Isa came out of her bathroom, toweling the wetness from her hair—and froze.
Chance was in her bedroom, one hand resting on her end table while the other stroked the fabric of the overstuffed chair he was sitting in.
"You don't lock your windows," he said chidingly.
Unbidden, her gaze went to the window and then back to him. She was on the fifth floor of a brownstone condo, and the fire escape had long been broken. How in the world…?
"Are you a freaky cat burglar or something? Well, sorry, because everything I've got is tied up in the restaurant."
He ceased stroking her chair with a half-smile. "I'm something, but it's not a cat burglar."
It occurred to Isa that the proper thing to do was call 911. Or scream for help. Or run into her bathroom and lock the door while doing all of the above. After all, this was a man she'd just met two days ago. He could be a mass murderer for all she knew. Maybe her grandmother had gotten him involved, but that didn't mean he was safe.
"So what are you?" she asked instead, tightening her robe around her. Good thing she hadn't just strolled out naked. That would have made this even more disconcerting than it already was.
Chance gave her a very serious look. "You're not ready to know what I am, so don't ask me that question when you don't really want a truthful answer to it."
Arrogant man. Where was her purse full of testosterone-repellent when she needed it?
"I could have you arrested for breaking and entering," she said, dropping the towel from her head.
Chance shrugged. "Go ahead, but then Robbery will hear I was in your house and he'll insist you stay with him. I don't think you want that, do you?"
Clever jerk. That's exactly what would happen, and no amount of Vagisil in the world would stop it. No, Isa didn't want that, and for some strange reason, she didn't think she was in any danger from Chance, so she wasn't going to call the police.
"All right. What do you want bad enough to break into my home for?"
"A chance to talk to you," he replied instantly. "It's so much nicer when—what did you call them?—Bowling Ball and Smelly aren't around to interrupt us."
A gorgeous, mysterious man broke into her bedroom because he wanted to talk? Isa rolled her eyes. Yep, that sounded like her luck.
"Well, Chance, it's two A.M. and I'm tired, so make it quick."
He stretched, rippling his muscles from shoulders to knees in one sinuating motion. Isa just stared. Wow. That was something she'd like to see again.
From the new tug at his mouth, he'd guessed her thoughts. Oh well. Isa was sure she wasn't the first woman to find that impressive.
"I'm going to stop this wedding and get your brother back unharmed," Chance said as mildly as if he were commenting on the weather. "But I'll need you to keep up your pretense of being Robert's fiancée in the meantime."
Yet another person to tell her that. Isa hadn't liked hearing it from her brother over two weeks ago, and it didn't sound any more enticing now.
"Of course you are. Then you're going to give me multiple orgasms and pay off my mortgage too. I saw this movie, pal. It was in the fantasy section."
The grin he flashed her was decadent. "Do I get to pick the order in which these things will occur? Because I do have a preference, Isabella."
There was that hint of green in his eyes again. It made her heart speed up, and when he gave her a slow up-and-down appraisal it made her feel warm all over. Like she was being caressed.
Chance inhaled with a long, deep breath that somehow seemed as intimate as a kiss. Self-consciously, Isa brushed her hair back from her forehead. Yes, it was definitely getting warmer in here.
"And just how are you going to get my brother back without getting him—and possibly me—killed in the process?" she asked, to distract herself from counting how long it had been since she'd had sex. Ugh, if she counted good sex, then she'd have to break out more of her old calendars than she cared to count.
"I'm going to find out where your brother is, and once I get him safely away, then I'm going to convince Robert that it's in the best interest of his health never to bother you or your family again."
Isa snorted in a very unfeminine fashion. "How? Are you a world-renowned hypnotist?"
Chance didn't laugh. "Something like that."
She stared for a different reason this time. He was serious. Good Lord, maybe he was a dangerous crazy person. Where had her grandmother dug him up from, anyway?
"You should go now," Isa said slowly. "And once again I'm going to tell you to stay out of this. You don't understand what Robert's like if you think you can hocus-pocus your way around him. He'll kill you. He'll bury you right next to Jimmy Hoffa and no one will ever find your body, got it?"
Chance sighed. "Would a demonstration make you feel better?"
Demonstration? "Um, of what, exactly?"
"My hocus-pocus abilities, as you call them."
Isa shifted. This was getting weirder by the minute. "Look, why don't you just go…"
"You can open your eyes now."
Isa blinked—and then jerked back in shock. She was on the chair with Chance. On his lap, to be more precise, with her arms around his neck and her mouth mere inches from his. Holy shit, how the hell did that happen?
Chance watched Isa scramble off him, her knuckles white as she clutched her robe. She backed away several feet, looking around her bedroom as if expecting to see someone else there.
"What did you do to me? How did I end up on your lap?" she demanded.
It would be so much easier to tell her the truth. To show her the truth, since once he said, "I'm a vampire," she'd just insist on proof anyway. But the suspicion in her gaze stopped him. Well, that, and the simple fact that he wanted Isa to get to know him better before she found out what he was. Chance had lived long enough to recognize what was stirring in him—and to appreciate that it didn't happen often.
Sure, he'd been attracted to her since the first night he watched her, then he'd grown to like her for her spunk and bravery, but that wasn't what was rare. It was the additional feeling she inspired. The one of connection, like she was someone who should be part of his life. Some people called it chemistry, others called it infatuation, some even called it fate. Chance didn't care what name was stuck on it. He only knew it was real.
And she felt something for him, too. He could smell it in the way her scent changed around him, the way her heart beat faster when he stared at her, and the way her body leaned toward his even as her eyes were rimmed with caution. Oh, part of that was just the attraction of a compatible woman to a compatible man, but there was more as well. Chance intended to find out how much more, and then he'd show her what he was, because he wasn't going to hide himself from her for much longer.
"I used my hocus-pocus and hypnotized you," he replied. It was mostly true. He just wasn't going to elaborate that his power was derived from being a vampire.
"You hypnotized me?" she repeated. "With what?"
He shrugged. "My gaze and my voice." Again, true enough.
Isa began to pace. "This is too weird. You're some kind of wacko David Copperfield and my grandmother hired you to abracadabra my brother safely back?"
"I told you this wasn't about money," Chance corrected.
"Whatever!" Isa said. Then her gaze narrowed. "You didn't do anything perverted while I was on your lap, did you?"
Chance folded his arms across his chest. "If you think I'm some lowlife scum who'd coerce a woman into doing something sexual against her will, then I suggest you do call the police. I had you come over to me because it proved that I can do what I claim I can do. You certainly wouldn't have perched on my knee of your own inclination just then, would you? But that was all you did, Isa, and my hands remained at my sides the entire time."