Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz

Gift of Fire (42 page)

BOOK: Gift of Fire

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Mercy hesitated, trying to figure out the safest course of action. “Not far. Walking distance.” Once they were out on the street she would have a chance of calling at

tention to her situation, if she indeed was in a situation. Outside there were cars and pedestrians and other shopkeepers closing up for the night. She would feel much safer. “If you care to wait outside, I’ll just be a minute.”

He nodded again, that single, economical movement of his head, and then turned, walked to the end of the aisle and disappeared.

Mercy stared after him, holding her breath as she waited for the bell to sound, indicating he had actually left the shop. She couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy after all. The part of her that was convinced she was in jeopardy was still sending bursts of fight or flight signals through her nerves. But another part of her was perversely disappointed to see the stranger leave. She had never met a man who had such an instantaneous ef

fect on her senses. It was a strangely beguiling, if per

ilous experience.

The bell didn’t tinkle and she didn’t hear the door open or close, but Mercy knew she was alone in the shop. Cautiously she walked to the end of the aisle and glanced out the window

The dark stranger was out on the sidewalk, lounging easily against the fender of a black Porsche. His gaze was centered on the shop door as he waited for Mercy to emerge. His brand of patience was that of a hunter waiting for its quarry.

Mercy sucked in her breath and set down the books she’d been holding. She darted toward the door, reach

ing for the dead bolt. Once she had him locked out she could either slip out the back way or call the police.

As if he had read her mind, the man moved, reach

ing the door before she did. The knob turned, the door slid open just far enough to admit the toe of his boot, and Mercy knew she had lost the short race. The bell overhead tinkled this time, which was absurdly reassur

ing for some reason. That shot of confidence united with the adrenaline in her blood to make Mercy abruptly angry.

“If you don’t mind,” she snapped, shoving the door against his foot, “this is my shop and I would like to lock up for the night. Get out of here.”

He stared down at her assessingly. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say you aren’t the sort of customer I like to encourage.”

“It’s all right, Mercy Pennington, you have nothing to fear from me. I just want to see the book. Ι won’t hurt you.”

Mercy opened her mouth to tell him that under the circumstances he could hardly expect her to believe that, but when she met his eyes the protest died in her throat.

For some groundless, totally illogical reason she
did
believe him. Somehow, she realized, she would know if she were truly in danger from him. The information would be there in his gleaming hazel eyes. At the mo

ment she was safe. Mercy didn’t know how she could be so certain of that, but she was. The strange sensation of having communicated with this man on a subliminal level went through her again, providing reassurance even as it raised odd questions.

Tense seconds ticked past as her gaze locked with his. Neither of them moved. There would be no harm in simply showing him her precious copy of
Valley,
Mercy thought suddenly. Her hand fell away from the door.

“I’ll get my purse,” she muttered and turned back to

ward the counter. He stepped out onto
the sidewalk as she moved away from him. It was the lack of music from the bell rather than the sound of it that warned her he was gone again.

When she emerged onto the sidewalk a moment later and closed the door firmly behind her, the bell chimed as brightly as ever. Her unusual customer spoke as she turned the key in the lock.

“Doesn’t that damn bell annoy you?”

She glanced at him in surprise. “It lets me know when someone’s entering or leaving the shop. It’s not an annoyance, it’s a warning.”

“I would find it a definite nuisance. It’s unnecessary. The sound it makes isn’t even very pleasing. And there are other ways of knowing someone’s around.”

She had known he was around even though the bell hadn’t rung when he had entered the shop the first time, Mercy reflected. She frowned. Then she dropped her keys into her red leather shoulder bag, letting them jan

gle as she did so. The small action was deliberate. She just knew that he would never jangle a set of keys. They would slide silently into his pocket.

“What I would like to know,” Mercy announced with a touch of aggression as she set a brisk pace down the street, “is why that bell didn’t make any noise when you were entering or leaving.”

“I told you,” he said, moving silently along beside her, “I don’t like the sound it makes.”

Mercy glanced at him sharply but he wasn’t paying any attention. He was examining the deliberately quaint, tree-lined, unmistakably prosperous street. Most of the boutiques and shops were closed for the day. The storefronts were elegantly rustic, the goods in the win

dows discreet and expensive. The few cars that were still parked at the curb tended to fall into the BMW-Volvo-

Mercedes category. The people on the sidewalk were casually dressed in polo shirts with little animals em

broidered on them, designer shorts and name brand sport shoes. They looked sleek and healthy.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” Mercy pointed out.

“My name is Croft Falconer.”

“Where are you from, Mr. Falconer?”

“Call me Croft or Falconer if you prefer, but skip the mister. I’m from Oregon.”

“I see. Then you really haven’t come such a long way for
Valley
after all, have you? Oregon is just a three- or four-hour drive.”

“Not all distances are measured in terms of miles.”

She couldn’t quite decide how to respond to such a cryptic comment so Mercy decided to change the sub

ject. She was aware that she was no longer afraid of him, but she was very definitely feeling wary of the man. He didn’t fit into any category of male she could identify and label. That fact was as intriguing as it was unsettling. “What about your car? Are you sure you want to leave it here on the street?”

“It should be reasonably safe for a while, don’t you think? Ignatius Cove doesn’t look like the sort of place where gangs start stripping cars on the main street five minutes after the sun sets.”

“Well, no, but—”

“Don’t worry about the car, Mercy.”

“I won’t,” she assured him tartly. “After all, it’s yours, not mine.”

Mercy led the way for two blocks, past the small plaza and fountain at the end of the street, and then turned left, away from the view of the cove, to climb the hill toward her apartment. By the time she reached the end of the rather steep street, she was breathing a little heavily, as usual. The walk home was definitely some

thing of a workout. As she stopped in front of her apart

ment
building she was well aware that Croft’s breathing hadn’t altered. The knowledge irritated her. The man must have
some
weakness, she rationalized.

“What is your field of interest, Croft?” she asked as she dug the keys back out of her purse.

He gave her a quizzical look. “My field of interest?”

“Your book collection,” she said impatiently as she walked up the single flight of stairs that led to her second-story apartment. “You’ve come all this way to see
Valley,
so you must be a collector. What’s your chief area of interest?”

He smiled for the first time. It wasn’t much of a smile, just a faint lifting of the corners of his firm mouth. Mercy got the impression he didn’t have a lot of experience in smiling. But it was a genuine smile and she was rather pleased with herself for having drawn it from him.

“You mean you want to know why I’m trying to ob

tain
Valley of Secret Jewels?”
he asked in mild amusement.

Mercy gave a small cough to clear her throat and opened her front door. “Well, it is a rather unusual spec

imen.”

“It’s erotica, pure and simple,” he stated flatly. “Some of the best ever written.”

“Yes.” Mercy wasn’t quite certain what else to say. Uneasily she remembered her earlier image of meeting Croft in a darkened bedroom. Talk about erotica. De

liberately she made herself ask the logical question. “Is that what you collect? Erotica?”

“No, Mercy. My interests lie in another direction.”

“Which direction?” She turned just inside her door

way to face him, aware that she was feeling nervous again. She quickly tried to analyze her reactions and came to the conclusion that, while she wasn’t physically afraid of him, she simply couldn’t shake the dangerous frisson of sensual awareness he seemed to evoke in her.

She reminded herself that ghosts, even the ones that weren’t actually threatening, always sent chills down the spine.

“I suppose you could say that my main field of inter

est is the philosophy of violence.”

He walked through the door and closed it behind him before Mercy could assimilate the meaning of his words. She stepped back, automatically giving him room. Her eyes widened.

“Violence?” she whispered.

“I’m something of an expert on the subject.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The author of over 50 New York Times bestsellers, JAYNE ANN KRENTZ writes romantic-suspense, often with a psychic and paranormal twist, in three different worlds: Contemporary (as Jayne Ann Krentz), historical (as Amanda Quick) and futuristic (as Jayne Castle). There are over 35 million copies of her books in print.

Building on the success of her Arcane Society Series, Jayne is kicking off three new paranormal series in 2012.

The Dark Legacy books are set in present day Washington state and delve into the paranormal crystal mining world and the Coppersmith Family. The first book, COPPER BEACH is available now.

The Ladies of Lantern Street novels are set in Victorian England and follow the adventures of the Flint and Marsh Agency employees. These ladies are not your average paid companions. The first book, CRYSTAL GARDENS is available now.

The Rainshadow novels started, unofficially, with the release of CANYONS OF NIGHT. These stories are set on a small island on the planet Harmony in the not so distant future. The second novel in this series, THE LOST NIGHT, will be available in September 2012.

When she's not writing, Jayne can be found on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/JayneAnnKrentz

You can also learn more about Jayne at her website, http://www.JayneAnnKrentz.com

MORE BOOKS BY JAYNE ANN KRENTZ

eBooks

Gift of Gold

Shield’s Lady

Midnight Jewels

Contemporary (written as Jayne Ann Krentz)

Copper Beach

In Too Deep

Fired Up

Running Hot