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She remembered the smile, too. "Thank you," he added, and gracefully sat down in the chair she had
drawn out.
She snatched her hand off the back. "I wasn't inviting you," she said helplessly, caught between
indignation and embarrassment. "What were you doing hanging around outside Bonnie's house?"
He smiled. In the candlelight, his black hair shone almost like liquid, too soft and fine for human
hair. His face was very pale, but at the same time utterly compelling. And his eyes caught her own and
held them.
" 'Helen, thy beauty is to me/Like those Nicean barks of yore/That gently, over a perfumed sea…' "
"I think you'd better leave now." She didn't want him to talk anymore. His voice did strange things
to her, made her feel oddly weak, started a melting in her stomach. "You shouldn't be here. Please."
She reached for the candle, meaning to take it and leave him, fighting off the dizziness that threatened
to overcome her.
But before she could grasp it, he did something extraordinary. He caught her reaching hand, not
roughly but gently, and held it in his cool slender fingers. Then he turned her hand over, bent his dark
head, and kissed her palm.
"Don't…" whispered Elena, stunned.
"Come with me," he said, and looked up into her eyes.
"Please don't…" she whispered again, the world swimming around her. He was mad; what was he
talking about? Come with him where? But she felt so dizzy, so faint.
He was standing, supporting her. She leaned against him, felt those cool fingers on the first button of
the shirt at her throat, "Please, no…"
"It's all right. You'll see." He pulled the shirt away from her neck, his other hand behind her head.
"No." Suddenly, strength returned to her, and she jerked away from him, stumbling against the chair.
"I told you to leave, and I meant it. Get out – now!"
For an instant, pure fury surged in his eyes, a dark wave of menace. Then they went calm and cold
and he smiled, a swift, brilliant smile that he turned off again instantly.
"I'll leave," he said. "For the moment."
She shook her head and watched him go out the French doors without speaking. When they had shut
behind him, she stood in the silence, trying to get her breath.
The silence… but it shouldn't be silent. She turned toward the grandfather clock in bewilderment
and saw that it had stopped. But before she could examine it closely, she heard Meredith's and
Bonnie's raised voices.
She hurried out into the hall, feeling the unaccustomed weakness in her legs, pulling her shirt back
up and buttoning it. The back door was open, and she could see two figures outside, stooping over
something on the lawn.
"Bonnie? Meredith? What's wrong?"
Bonnie looked up as Elena reached them. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Oh, Elena, he's dead."
With a chill of horror, Elena stared down at the little bundle at Bonnie's feet. It was the Pekingese,
lying very stiffly on his side, eyes open. "Oh, Bonnie," she said.
"He was old," said Bonnie, "but I never expected him to go this quickly. Just a little while ago, he
was barking."
"I think we'd better go inside," said Meredith, and Elena looked up at her and nodded. Tonight was
not a night to be out in the dark. It was not a night to invite things inside, either. She knew that now,