cool and dim, a refuge from the burning rays of the sun.
Sheltered by the darkness, he climbed the stairs to his room and closed the door.
His first thought, upon waking, was for Kara. He pushed it aside, determined to forget the young woman with russet-colored hair and dreamy blue eyes. She was an infant compared to him, a child with her whole life ahead of her. A creature of light, she had no need for a man who wore darkness like a shroud, a man who was not like other men.
He wandered restlessly through the empty rooms of his house, unable to concentrate on any one task, his thoughts constantly turning toward Kara.
Leaving the house, he blended into the shadows of the night. Muttering an oath, he began to run, tirelessly, effortlessly. Mile after mile he ran, his feet hardly touching the ground. But no matter how far he ran, he could not outrun the desires of his own heart. He returned home long enough to change clothes and wrap up one of his books. Certain he was making a mistake, but unable to resist the lure of seeing her again, he left the house.
Outside, he closed his eyes and sent his thoughts toward Kara. Her sister and her grandmother had been there earlier, but now they were gone, and she was alone. And lonely.
And thinking of him.
I'm coming, Kara.
He willed his words into her mind. A short time later, he was at the hospital, in her room.
Her smile of welcome, warm and genuine, filled his heart nay, his very soul with sunlight.
"Good evening, Kara."
"Hi."
"You look much better."
"I feel much better."
Reaching inside his coat, he withdrew a parcel wrapped in white paper. "I hope it doesn't give you nightmares."
"You remembered! Thank you." She tore off the paper and stared at the cover. It depicted a raven-haired man bending over a woman's slender neck; the light from a full moon glinted off his fangs. "The Hunger," she said, reading the title aloud. "Sounds a little gruesome."
"Not as bad as some I've written."
"Would you autograph it for me?"
"Of course."
She handed him the book and a pen, then watched as he opened it to the title page.
He wrote for a moment, then closed the book and handed it back to her. "Perhaps you shouldn't read it at night."
"That scary, huh?"
"I've been told my style is dark and heavy-handed."
Kara frowned, remembering the other book she'd read. "Well, your style is definitely dark," she allowed, "but I didn't think it was heavy-handed. Actually, I thought the book I read was really very good. I mean, it was supposed to be scary, and it certainly scared me."
"Which one did you read?"
"The Maiden and the Madman."
"One of my earlier works. I think you'll find The Hungerfar less grotesque."
"This cover's quite a bit different from your others."
Alexander nodded. "Actually, this is more of a love story than anything else."
"Really?"
He shrugged. "An aberration, I assure you. The plot for my next book is filled with enough murder and mayhem to please the most bloodthirsty of my readers."
"You won't mind if I don't buy it?"
"Not at all."
Kara looked into his eyes, and forgot everything else. She had heard of love at first sight who hadn't? But she had never believed in such a thing. She had met other handsome men and felt varying degrees of attraction, but nothing to equal what she felt now, an allure that was almost spiritual, as if her soul was reaching out to his. Did he feel it, too? Never before had she understood how a woman could throw away everything for the love of a man, but she had the sudden unshakable feeling that if Alexander asked her to follow him to the other side of the world, she would say yes without a second thought. It was most disconcerting, and a little frightening.
With an effort, she drew her gaze from his. "How long does it take you to write a book?"
"Not long. Three months, sometimes four."
"How long have you been writing?"
"About twelve years." He smiled at her as if he knew she was asking these questions because she feared another lingering silence between them. "Enough about me. Will you be going home soon?"
"Not for another few days. And then I won't be able to go back to work right away."
"How do you feel?"
"Fine."
"I'm glad. I should go now. You need your rest."
"That's what everyone says."
"Then it must be true."
He stood up, knowing he should go, yet reluctant to leave her. She was like