The Hunter's Affection (Bloodwite Book 3) Read online

  That was when she saw him.

  Tyler Hayes. The jerk who’d cheated on Toni before she started dating Lawrence.

  And he was walking straight toward them.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he said. His tone was completely casual, as if he had no reason to suspect they might not want to talk to him. He gave them a cocky grin, full of unwarranted confidence. Charlotte had no idea how Toni had put up with him for so long.

  “Tyler,” she said, which was as close to a greeting as she’d allow him.

  He waited for Alessandra to greet him.

  Which she didn’t.

  “It’s a small town,” he finally said.

  “Meaning?” Alessandra’s tone dripped with disdain.

  “Meaning we’re bound to run into each other more often than not.” He smiled again, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Truce?”

  Alessandra raised her chin. “What do you want, Tyler?”

  “Just to patch things up between us after your fiancé’s buddy—”

  Hit him in the face.

  Charlotte only wished she’d been there to see it.

  “Kenton is not responsible for Lawrence Derrickson’s actions,” Alessandra said, not letting him finish. “And even if he was, you more than deserved it for what you said about Toni. How you could be so crude after—”

  “She did break up with me.”

  He didn’t seem very torn up about it.

  Alessandra rolled her eyes, not even attempting to hide her annoyance. “Anything else?” she said with plenty of attitude. “We were having a conversation here.”

  He looked around, as if judging whether anyone else would hear him, then said, “Something’s up with Zach, and I’d like to know what it is.”

  That seemed to surprise Alessandra as much as it did Charlotte. Zach Walsh, she knew, was the man who’d broken into Ye Old Curiosities, although the whole thing was a bit of a mystery. What would he do with a handful of mood-changing pens, anyway?

  “Pardon me?” Alessandra said.

  Tyler shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Despite what you may think, he didn’t break into the shop because of me. I wasn’t happy about it, and he’s been acting strange ever since. Whenever I ask about it, he just says I should stay away from the Derricksons. And from your boy, Kenton.”

  Alessandra sighed as if talking to him expended every ounce of her energy. Oh, her honesty was one of the things Charlotte loved about her. While Charlotte felt yoked to politeness, her friend felt no such need. Which was for the best, really. This jerk didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt.

  “First of all, I probably wouldn’t refer to Kenton as a boy, but that’s just me. Secondly, if you honestly think I’ve any contact with Zach or would know more than you do about the break-in, then you’re both a jerk and delusional.”

  Splotches of red appeared on Tyler’s neck. He just stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed, then said, “Your boys are the outsiders here. Don’t forget that.”

  With that, he turned toward the line, but his grand exit was ruined. There were too many people for him to step around, so he was forced to stand behind Alessandra for a moment, so close she could reach out and clock him if she was so inclined. Which she looked like she would very much enjoy.

  Turning her back to him, Alessandra made a face. Charlotte just barely managed to keep it together until Tyler walked away.

  “What the hell was that?” she finally burst out.

  “Who knows.” Blinking, Alessandra took a sip of tea. “I don’t want to give Zach or Tyler any more thought than necessary. So, what do you say? Dinner at our house at 6:00?”

  It was another brush-off, and she knew it. It made her less inclined to accept her friend’s invitation, even though she knew it was petty. Besides, she suspected the department chair position would officially be announced at Tuesday’s faculty meeting. She should be getting her ducks in a row for the promotion she wanted and thought she deserved.

  “Charlotte? Don’t you dare wimp out on me just because you were out with the town playboy until all hours of the night.”

  The town playboy. That’s exactly what Torr was, lest she forget it.

  Alessandra’s tone shifted to plaintive. “First we hardly see you—”

  “OK, OK,” she said, shaking her head ruefully. “I’ll be there.”

  Thankfully, he would not.

  Chapter 8

  “You’re sure about this?” Lawrence asked him for what had to be the twentieth time. This time he asked the question in front of the side entrance to Kenton and Alessandra’s home—the closest Torr had ever come to visiting their neighbors.

  Torr gave his brother an exaggerated look of surprise that made Toni laugh.

  “Brother,” he said, winking at Toni. “I do know how to act cordial. Even in the company of our enemy.”

  “Your enemy,” Toni gently reminded him. “And you promised to behave yourself.”

  He had. The thought of seeing Charlotte again had outweighed his good sense. When he’d learned his family planned to attend this dinner party, he’d decided to tag along. He hadn’t been invited, exactly. Indeed, everyone had been astonished when he’d suggested it—himself included.

  “Very well. No mention of Alec. Or any of the times Kenton and his brothers have attempted to slaughter us.”

  This time he got a look from both Lawrence and Toni.

  “Trust me.”

  Reluctantly, Lawrence turned and knocked on the door. Laria had gone over earlier to help Alessandra and Kenton prepare dinner. Which he would have enjoyed witnessing since his sister had never been known for her culinary skills.

  He could smell the meal, garlic bread and maybe pasta with red sauce, before the door was opened. Despite Alessandra’s welcoming smile, none of them entered. “Come in . . . oh.”

  She faltered for a moment when she saw him, but recovered quickly.

  Lawrence and Toni stood with him even though they could both enter.

  He, on the other hand, could not. Torr had never been inside Kenton’s home and would need to be invited first.

  Alessandra hesitated for the briefest of moments before saying, “I’m surprised to see you, Torr. But you are welcome inside.”

  Though her tone wasn’t exactly friendly, it didn’t need to be. Her words gave him the permission he needed. With that, all three of them entered as a group. Moving through the entranceway, Alessandra led them into the front room known as the red room for its red walls, it boasted a full bar tucked in the corner. It was richly appointed, complete with . . . a bartender?

  No sign of Charlotte.

  “I thought we’d have a drink while waiting for dinner.” Alessandra glanced at the young man standing behind the bar. “Kenton insisted. He would have hired an entire staff for tonight if I’d allowed it. This is apparently what a simple dinner party with friends looks like to him.” She laughed, turning to order them drinks, their maid nowhere to be seen.

  “He’s accustomed to being spoiled,” Lawrence said.

  Torr smartly held his tongue.

  To her credit, Alessandra knew exactly what each of them wanted.

  “Torr!”

  His sister had come up from behind, clearly surprised to see him.

  “Evening, sis.”

  “Where’s Kenton?” Toni took her drink from the temporary employee, who looked slightly uncomfortable. No doubt this was the first time he’d been hired to serve a grand total of seven people. Seven if Charlotte was still coming. Had she cancelled?

  He really shouldn’t care, but Torr had thought of little else since the evening before. Still, he had no intention of making a move on her. He knew better than to do that.

  Right. And that’s why you’re enduring Kenton Morley to be here right now.

  “In the kitchen with Mary.”

  Every single one of them stopped and stared.

  “I know, crazy, right? But I told him this was our dinner
party and that we should cook.”

  “He did try to use me to get out of it when I showed up,” Laria said.

  Torr must be living in some alternate reality. Kenton Morley, the great Earl of Rockford, was . . . cooking? With help from Laria, no less, who had once called him “the spawn of Satan.” Or maybe it had been Kenton’s brother Rowan who had said that about Torr. Either way, there was no love lost between any of them.

  “I’m not sure what surprises me most,” he mumbled, causing his sister to swat his arm.

  “Everyone have a drink?” Alessandra surveyed the group. “Dinner should be ready soon.”

  Drinks in hand, they left the red room, and Alessandra led them down the hall to a dining room, which would have been filled with light two hours earlier. One wall was completely covered in windows. The other boasted black and white pictures of Stone Haven in gold frames. It appeared as if they’d kept the furniture and décor, and the dining room was certainly big enough to accommodate guests.

  The Henry Hutton Mansion, named after the man who’d built it, the founder of Stone Haven University, had been a bed-and-breakfast for years before Kenton purchased it. The Addy Hutton Mansion next door, which now belonged to Lawrence, had been commissioned by Henry for his daughter.

  “You’re doing great,” Toni whispered to him as they moved toward the table.

  Laria chuckled. “He knows how to behave like a gentleman,” she whispered, as if he weren’t present. “Torr just typically chooses not to.”

  “I’ll thank you not to talk as if I’m not standing right here,” he said, noticing the dining room was empty. Still no sign of Charlotte.

  “Sit anywhere you like,” Alessandra said, pointing to the impeccably set table, the white china contrasting starkly with the black and gold accents.

  “But leave room for me—oh!”

  It had only been one night, but he already knew that voice. His failure to sense her approach told him how much she threw him off his game.

  As the others began to sit, Torr turned toward the entrance.

  Yesterday, he’d have seen only her crisp white button-down and perfectly straight blonde hair, not a strand out of place.

  Today? Torr noticed the look she tried to hide when their eyes locked. She was happy he was here but didn’t want to show it. And he couldn’t deny he also noticed her dark blue leg-hugging jeans, perfect for the occasion but more casual than was typical of Charlotte.

  At least, what he had assumed was typical of the Southern belle turned Pennsylvania school teacher.

  When no one sat next to him on his right, Torr tempted fate and pulled out the ornate, high-backed dining room chair. She hesitated only briefly before she accepted his invitation and sat in it.

  “Thank you.”

  Certainly not the voice of a woman whose ass had been pressed against him, her arm slung over his neck as he struggled to maintain some semblance of sanity.

  “You’re welcome.”

  It was only when he sat down beside her that he noticed everyone was watching them. Which was the exact moment Kenton chose to enter the room.

  “Mary is all set—” He cut himself off, no doubt surprised to see Torr preparing to sit between Charlotte and Laria, but he recovered quickly. Rather than comment on his unexpected—and unwanted—guest, Kenton cleared his throat and said, “And it looks like everyone is here, so I’ll tell her to get started.”

  “I’ll help you guys,” Alessandra said, hurrying after him.

  When Kenton Morley came back into the room carrying salad plates, of all things, Torr almost laughed. When had his life become an absurd comedy of itself? But instead, he merely lifted his cup to his lips and sipped his whiskey.

  “Ma’am, a drink?”

  The bartender had rolled his drinks cart into the dining room, having apparently been instructed to follow them from room to room.

  Leave it to Kenton to insist upon such a luxury.

  He could hardly blame him, if he were being fair. Unlike his brother, Torr did also enjoy the benefits of unlimited wealth. If he were to stay in one place, actually buy a home, he’d likely hire an even larger staff than Kenton kept here.

  But Torr despised the thought of being confined in such a small town. Or, really, any confinement at all.

  “White wine, please,” his dinner companion said.

  “Have you ever tried whiskey?” he asked, already guessing her answer.

  “I have.” Charlotte made a face. “Don’t like it.”

  Torr held his glass up.

  “Try this.”

  She did, making a funny face that told her the expensive vintage had done nothing to change her assessment. “Hmmm.”

  When he leaned closer to take the glass back from her, their legs touched. Torr waited for Charlotte to pull back, but she didn’t.

  And neither did he.

  “Guess who I ran into today,” Alessandra asked the group, now all seated and eating their salads. Torr had little appetite, especially for a salad made by Kenton Morley. The scent of jasmine, maybe a hint of bamboo, brought him back to the last time he’d smelled that very same scent.

  To Noir Nights.

  “Tyler?” Charlotte took a sip of wine.

  “Good guess, being that you were there.” Alessandra looked at Toni. “He spouted some nonsense about the burglary catching him by surprise, although Zach is still very much employed by him. He also said Zach has been acting strange. Almost as if he’s afraid of . . .” She looked around the room. “Well, all of you.”

  Maybe because I told him he’d forfeit his life if he ever again spoke about the shop or the Cheld?

  “Ugh, can we talk about something more pleasant than my ex?” Toni asked, scrunching her nose.

  Lawrence didn’t look thrilled about the subject of choice either, not that Torr blamed him. They both had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to the people they loved.

  “Allie, tell them about your research.”

  At Kenton’s prompting, Alessandra told the group about a new project at work, a collaboration with another professor commissioned by the Stone Haven Visitors Bureau. The history of a small town like this one, barely a blip on the map, was hardly fascinating. But he kept a straight face, for his siblings’ sake.

  In truth, his attention was very much elsewhere. He pressed his leg closer to Charlotte’s, wanting to confirm the touch had not been accidental.

  She responded by clearing her throat.

  Torr had never been a cautious man.

  Transferring his drink to his left hand, Torr slid the right one beneath the table.

  Time to find out if Charlotte truly had been under the influence of a few glasses of Death in the Afternoon last night. If ever there was a time for her to be cautious, it would be here, at the dinner table with her friends.

  Lawrence is going to kill you.

  Torr shrugged off the thought. His brother was welcome to try.

  His hand moved with purpose, only stopping when it had reached Charlotte’s upper thigh. And then he waited for her reaction.

  Other than an intake of breath Torr would have missed had he not been watching her closely, she didn’t react at all. Nor did she push his hand away.

  He took a slow sip of whiskey while simultaneously running his hand down her leg, toward her knee.

  “Sounds exciting,” Toni said about Alessandra’s research, although any fool could tell she didn’t mean it.

  Alessandra didn’t take offense. “History can be fascinating . . .”

  He stopped listening altogether, leaning closer to the table to mask his movements. He nearly lost his impeccable composure when Charlotte’s mouth lingered just a bit too long on the tines of her fork after she popped a crouton inside.

  She did it on purpose.

  So it wasn’t the alcohol. Interesting.

  Torr forced himself to look away before anyone noticed.

  Let’s see for sure.

  Continuing his exploration, he f
eathered his touch back up her thigh. Her inner thigh. Moving upward until—

  “Charlotte, are you OK?”

  He pulled his hand back now that all eyes were on them. But he’d reached his goal long enough to be sure of her interest in him. No pink had surfaced on Charlotte’s porcelain-like complexion, but there was no doubt he’d cracked her composure.

  “Better than OK, actually.” She smiled.

  One point to Charlotte.

  The rest of the meal passed without incident. But he had his answer.

  And he meant to find out exactly how different his dinner companion was from the proper schoolteacher he’d first met.

  Tonight.

  Chapter 9

  Charlotte stared in the mirror after reapplying her lip gloss.

  Deep breaths.

  Dinner had been a disaster. She’d intended to stay away from Torr, knowing she lacked control around him, only to spend the entire meal seated beside him. She’d barely noticed the morsels she’d consumed, all her attention focused on the illicit pats and touches under the table. And then he’d touched her there.

  She wanted him, no question about it. If only she could risk being seen with him.

  He’d instantly established a reputation for himself as the town’s visiting bad boy. If she was seen with him, her reputation would take a nosedive, something Charlotte couldn’t afford.

  No, she’d already built herself up after one fall from grace. She wouldn’t survive two.

  After her father and his business partner had been caught embezzling money from their software company—the one the two of them had built from the ground up, making both families millionaires—things had come crashing down so quickly that even now Charlotte could hardly believe the sudden turn of events.

  They’d gone from one of Charleston’s most influential families to nearly broke, virtually overnight. With a father in prison. Sometimes, she wondered if perhaps the material change had been good for her, if not for her mother. Had the Harris family not tumbled from grace, she’d likely have turned out exactly like her mother.

  Her life’s goal would have been to find a man to take care of her.

  Instead, she’d gotten a college degree, worked at a respectable job, and built a reputation based on her own merits rather than her family’s wealth.