a deep, fortifying breath as she watched her sister leave the room.
"Now, missy," Nana said, "tell me what's going on between you and Mr. Claybourne."
"Oh, for goodness sakes, Nana, what do you think's going on?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."
"Nothing's going on. I just met the man!" Kara shook her head in annoyance. She loved her grandmother, but sometimes Nana's old-fashioned ideas of right and wrong made her want to scream. "I'm in the hospital, for heaven's sake. Hardly a fit place for an affair, should I decide to have one."
"Kara!"
"I'm sorry."
"It just seems odd, his coming here."
"What's odd?" Gail asked. She handed a paper cup filled with black coffee to her grandmother.
"Nothing." Nana sat back and sipped her coffee, listening while Gail told Kara about her day at school. A few minutes later, the chimes that signaled the end of visiting hours sounded throughout the hospital.
"Are you still coming home tomorrow?" Gail asked.
"Yes."
Gail turned toward her grandmother. "Can I come with you to get Kara?"
"No, you have school."
"I could miss a day."
"No. Tell Kara good night. We must go."
Gail hugged Kara. "I never get to do anything," she complained.
"When I'm feeling better, we'll go shopping."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Good night, Kara," Nana said. "I'll be by tomorrow about ten."
"Good night, Nana."
Kara lay back on the pillows. Now that she thought of it, it was odd that Alexander Claybourne had come to see her. After all, she had donated blood to the Red Cross on several occasions, but she had never known where the blood had gone. And even though she had often wondered who had received it, and if it had perhaps saved a life, she had never gone looking for the recipients.
So, maybe he was just more curious than she was. Or maybe he had some sinister motive. . . .
Kara shook her head. It wasn't like her to be suspicious. Nana often said Kara was too trusting, too gullible, for her own good, and maybe she was. But she preferred to think the best of people instead of the worst. She knew there was evil in the world, but she saw no point in dwelling on it just because the six o'clock news couldn't talk about anything else. After all, there was good in the world, too. And Alexander Claybourne proved it. He had donated blood to a total stranger, and then come by to see how she was doing.
She frowned as she stared at the flowers he had brought her. How had he found out who had received his blood anyway? Wasn't that information confidential?
She plucked the red rose from the vase and sniffed its fragrance. Whatever else he was, he was the most generous man she had ever known. The flowers must have cost him a small fortune, she thought. Roses from a florist were never cheap, and there were at least three dozen buds, all perfectly formed.
They were beautiful, she mused. Then she smiled. He had said she put them to shame. It was one of the nicest compliments she had ever received.
Smiling, she put the rose back in the vase and reached for his book, eager to discover how the romance between the vampire and the mortal woman ended.
Chapter Four
Kara quickly grew bored with staying home. She was used to being on the go. As a consultant, she often traveled to nearby towns to advise large companies on redecorating their offices. She had been returning from just such an assignment when the accident happened. One minute she'd been driving on the highway listening to Billy Ray Cyrus; the next thing she remembered, she was in the hospital swathed in bandages with no memory of how she'd gotten there. She was lucky to be alive.
She flipped through the TV channels. Soap operas and talk shows, talk shows and soap operas. With a grimace, she clicked off the set and picked up Alexander's latest book. She had asked Nana to buy it for her. Unlike The Hunger, which had had a strong romance and, much to her delight, a happy ending, this book, titled Lord of Darkness, was strictly horror. It was a frightening story, and yet, when she tried to analyze it, she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that made it so scary. The horror wasn't lurid. The bloodletting wasn't so gory that it was disgusting. Perhaps it was the fact that it all seemed so plausible, so real.
Alexander had been right about one thing, though. She didn't read his books at night.