Wicked Ways by Kate Hoffmann

Author:Kate Hoffmann [Kate Hoffmann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459278370
Publisher: Harlequin

“WHAT IS wrong with me?”

Hallie sat up in bed and groaned, covering her face with her hands. She’d had the dream again, the same dream that seemed to recur every time she fell asleep.

With a soft curse, she untangled her legs from the twisted bedsheet and unwrapped her nightgown from around her hips. The room seemed unnaturally hot and a thin sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She crawled out of bed and walked over to the radiator, certain that it must be throwing off more heat than usual. But it was cool to the touch.

Fanning her face with her hand, she paced the floor at the end of the bed. This had to stop, these disturbing dreams of a man she could never have. She didn’t need him! She didn’t want him!

Then why couldn’t she put him out of her mind? What was this power he seemed to hold over her? Hallie stopped short and ran her hands through her hair. Slowly she turned and hurried to her dresser. Tris’s socks were exactly where she had left them. Hallie pulled one out, then shoved the drawer shut.

The parlor was dark and eerily silent as she tugged on her boots and shrugged into her jacket. The mantel clock chimed and Hallie counted along. Midnight. What better time to take care of such business? She grabbed her flashlight, then opened the front door.

A damp wind off the Atlantic sent a shiver coursing through her limbs as she stepped off the front porch. She made her way around the corner of the house, then tried to find the exact spot in the garden where she and Tris had stood together last.

Hallie made an educated guess, then bent and scooped up a handful of dirt. She carefully funneled it into the sock. “It may not be from a vampire’s grave, but it’s as close as I’m going to get tonight,” she murmured to herself.

She snatched up the flashlight and headed toward the bluff. This was all her fault. If she’d have told Edward Tristan to leave when his two weeks were up, maybe she wouldn’t still be so preoccupied with the man. But like a fool, she’d agreed to let him stay on at the Widow’s Walk.

Was it really because she wanted the extra income? Or was there another reason, a reason she couldn’t even admit to herself? Sure, she found him attractive, as would any woman whose sexual drive had been stuck in “Park” for as long as hers had. But this obsession of hers had gotten out of hand! She hadn’t slept through the night since he’d arrived.

“It’s not my fault,” she said as she approached the bluff. “He’s the one who is doing this to me.”

She held the sock filled with dirt in her hand. Then, with a swift and sure movement from her stoneskipping days as a child, she threw it out over the bluff and into the roiling surf below. Backing away from the rocky edge, she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer.

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