RED NIGHT ~ VAMPIRE FILES TRILOGY (Book 1)

7

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Adam watches me with hooded eyes that smolder in the dim lighting of the patio. My mouth is hanging open when he nods at me. Tonight he's wearing jeans and a black long-sleeved knit shirt that hugs his broad muscled chest and arms.

Please don't forget he's a stalker, and possibly something worse, Sam.

Closing my mouth, I change directions and head out to his table. He stands as I approach, his gaze slowly traveling up and down my body.

I think I look pretty good in my boots, flowy skirt, and cropped denim jacket, but certainly not worthy of the look he's giving me now.

Since he could be homicidal, I wish I was wearing sweats and a ball cap.

"What are you doing here?" I get right to the point, putting one hand on my hip.

"I'm having a beer. Would you like to join me?" he asks as he pulls out a chair. I look between him and the chair.

Oh what the heck.

I have no other way of learning who he is, and I need a last name. Maybe I can get him to answer some of my questions before I ask Sean to pull his bar tab so I can get it off his credit card.

Sitting down, I toss my long strawberry waves off my shoulder so that I can take a sip of my beer. "Did you follow me here?"

He responds with a question. "What would you do if I said yes?"

I blink at him, thrown off by his response.

"I'd say you're a stalker. Why are you following me?" I cross my arms over my chest. My action does not go unnoticed by him.

"If I recall correctly, it was you who followed me first. If that is the criteria used to judge me, what does it say about you?" he says with a steady gaze.

I roll my eyes at him. "You know what I do for a living, so stop sidestepping my question."

"I'm merely stating a fact and making a suggestion. But since you did make yourself known to me, I'm now curious about you. I would like to know you better." He leans forward in his chair, already in my personal space again. Does he mean know me or know me?

I scoot my chair back several inches, turn myself to the side, and cross my legs. Anyone with half a brain can read my body language and know that I'm not happy, comfortable, or inviting at the moment.

Unfortunately, Adam is not deterred. He simply reaches over, grabs the leg of my chair with his boot, and pulls me closer with little effort. I'm shocked by the ease with which he does this. I'm sure it shows on my face. I'm a solid 130 pounds.

Our legs are now touching—I glare at him and he stares back.

"Look, you can't keep following me, and you have to stop invading my personal space! Does your country not believe in personal space? Where are you from, anyway?" I ask, getting annoyed again.

I'm not sure if it's because he keeps pushing all the normal boundaries or because he seems to know how to get under my skin.

I reach for my beer and he grabs my hand and holds it firmly, ignoring my questions. His touch feels like an electrical current that shoots right up my arm and ends with my stomach doing flip-flops. I try to pull it away from him, but he doesn't release me. We are surrounded by people, so I'm not completely freaking out—yet.

"How do we become acquainted if we do not spend time together?" he asks as he gently strokes my hand with both of his thumbs. He leans forward and stares directly into my eyes with such intensity I feel naked. I squirm on my chair, still trying to pull my hand away without making a scene.