More than a Mistress

"Why—why yes. She's fine, thank you."

"I'll bet you don't get to see her very often." Alex cleared her throat. "Why don't you take the station wagon and drive up for the weekend?"

The housekeeper stared as if Alex had lost her mind.

"The whole weekend, do you mean?"

"Yes. You could leave right now. Wouldn't you like to do that?"

"Of course. But..."

"But?"

"But in all the years I worked for your father and then for your husband, I never—"

"You don't work for them now," Alex said sharply. She took a deep breath. "Luisa. Take the station wagon and go wherever you like. I'm giving you the weekend off."

A while later, she heard the rumble of the front gates as Luisa drove through them. Alex rose and walked through the garden to the koi pond. Carl had added it, after her father's death. She watched the fat, golden fish swimming back and forth, as they always did, back and forth in their elegant, beautiful, perfect prison...

What on earth was the matter with her this morning?

"Get a grip, Alex," she muttered.

Moving quickly, she collected her breakfast dishes and entered the cool darkness of Thorpe House. The kitchen was pristine; even the coffeepot had been emptied, washed and dried. Alex did the same with her few dishes, then looked at the clock.

Could it really be only eight-thirty?

Well, that was fine. She could weed the garden. Carlos would probably scowl on Monday, when he saw she'd invaded his territory but this was her house, her kitchen, her life...

The door chimes rang. Alex froze, remembering her dream, and then she laughed. Black Knights didn't ride up to the castle doors and politely ring the bell. Besides, no one could get through the gates without a key.

Luisa must have forgotten something.

She hurried through the entry hall, the stones cold against her bare feet. She smoothed down the skirt of her long white nightgown, undid the bolt and opened the door.

“Luisa,” she said, smiling, “what did you…”

Oh! Alex slammed the door shut and fell back against it. It wasn’t her sour-faced housekeeper who stood on the steps, it was Travis Baron.

Bang!

"Alex?" The door jolted under the blow of his fist. "Alex, open this door!"

Alex stumbled away from the door, her eyes fixed on it. How had he found her? He didn't know where she lived. She'd never told him...

Bang! Bang!

"Open it, Alex, or so help me God, I'll kick it in!"

A whimper broke from her throat. She thought of the dream, of the Black Knight, and she began to tremble.

"Go away," she said, but the words came out a terrified whisper, lost under the sounds of Travis's fists beating against the door and the answering thud-thud of her own heart.

The door shuddered. She'd never thrown the bolt. She was afraid to go back and do it, now. What if the door flew open while she was just behind it? He'd be able to catch her, catch her and—and—

She blanked the terrible thought from her mind. Run, she told herself, run quickly and hide...

But it was too late. The door burst open, and Travis stepped inside.

Alex stared at him, transfixed, not believing what she saw. He was dressed all in black. A black T-shirt fit snugly across his broad shoulders and chest. Faded black jeans clung to his narrow hips and long legs. Black boots, dusty with use, peeked from under the jeans.

He looked wild, and dangerous, and magnificently male. He was not a dream. He was flesh and blood, and he had come for her.

He had come for her.

Terror danced along her spine. Terror... and something else.

His eyes met hers. "Alex," he said softly.

Be calm, she told herself. It was a dream, just a dream. Whatever else Travis Baron might be, he was a civilized man. And she was a civilized woman, who knew how to deal with uninvited guests.

Alex drew herself up. "You're not welcome here, Mr. Baron."

Travis laughed. He'd imagined a dozen scenarios on the way here but not one of them had featured Alexandra Thorpe in a virginal-looking nightgown, standing in the center of a room that looked as if it came straight out of the fifteenth century, facing him down as if he were nothing more than an unwelcome guest when she had to know what had brought him here.

Oh, yes, she knew. He could see it in the darkness of her eyes. In the leap of her pulse, just visible in the hollow of her throat. And in the tension that hummed between them, like electricity through a high-voltage line.

Travis smiled lazily and kicked the door shut. "Is that any way to welcome the man you're supposed to spend the weekend with, Princess?"

Run, the voice inside her said again, run!

But she couldn't. She knew better than to turn her back on a hungry beast, and that was what the man lounging against the door with such seeming carelessness reminded her of, not a Black Knight but a black jaguar, a hungry black jaguar on the prowl that would spring at her, devour her in a heartbeat, if she showed her fear.