she asked.
“It was pouring in Cambridge when I left. The Old Yard was terribly flooded.”
Ann swallowed, wondering what it must be like to be so familiar with Harvard and its surroundings. What would it be like to offer her family the protection of Harvard’s name—and money?
“And you may call me Carl, if you please,” he said. “No need for this doctor business, not anymore.”
“Thank you, Carl.” What did he mean, not anymore? Had they decided on her? She cleared her throat, trying not to count unhatched chickens. “So, are you giving a presentation this trip?” she asked. “Or do you have a poster in one of the sessions?”
“Neither.” He shook his graying head and gave her a small smile. His blue eyes were bright and young in defiance of his posture. “I’ve stepped back from research these days, left it for you younger scientists.” He tapped his forehead. “Keeping all the proteins straight isn’t as easy as it once was.”
“I doubt that very much,” Ann said. “I’m sure you’ve forgotten more than what these experts know.”
“You’re being kind.” He shook his head with a rueful expression, his hairy eyebrows high. “I’m here to watch presentations this year. Two people in particular have my attention.”
Ann smiled with what she hoped looked like confidence. She understood him perfectly. He was going to watch her and her competition, then decide who to hire. Perhaps the safety of her family remained within her reach—if she could avoid the predator. “Well, I hope you see something you like.”
“I’m certain I will.” He plucked a tiny pastry from a passing waiter and ate it with a satisfied expression. “Exquisite,” he said. Then he wiped his fingers on the napkin and met her eyes. “I’ll be at your talk with my colleague from the West Coast, and my money’s on you to outshine the competition.”
She had picked a berry off her plate, and she put it down now. “That is the nicest compliment I’ve received in a long time.”
“You deserve it. Your work is remarkable.” Carl smiled. “At my age, I’ve learned it’s nice to have admirers.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “It is.”
“And do you have any with you? Admirers, that is.”
He wasn’t hitting on her; he was trying to determine if she had an attachment. All else being equal, universities preferred to hire someone single, someone who’d never take time off for marriage or child care.
“No,” she lied. For once she felt glad her lover insisted on secrecy. She’d always suspected he’d exaggerated the need to appear single, but now…“I’m here alone.” She handed her plate to a passing waiter, the blackberries untasted.
Stoller nodded, his expression too closed to read. “That’s a shame,” he said. “I understand the party at the end of the meeting is quite grand. Almost like a wedding reception. It’s much more entertaining to attend with a friend.”
“Perhaps you’ll save me a dance then.”
“I was hoping for more than a dance.” His blue eyes met hers. “Would you accompany me?”
“I’d find that very enjoyable. I look forward—” But fear choked her words to a stop. That perfume. The predator had found her—and stared even as she nodded good night to Stoller. “I look forward to it,” she managed to say as she savored the fragrance against her will.
Across the spanning patio space, she saw dark pupils gleaming, bringing to mind hot, hot mouths and hungry caresses. The tall man, his hair black as a Percheron’s coat, radiated power…and danger. He made her think of a stallion scenting a mare, his nostrils dilated.
“Are you well?” Dr. Stoller asked, looking in the direction of her gaze.
Ann couldn’t answer.
A tiny woman with a pixie haircut stood next to the dark-haired man, a calm look in her eye. With a slow nod, the man curled his broad fingers around the woman’s neck, her hip resting familiarly against his thigh.
“I’m fine.” She dragged her eyes back to Dr. Stoller, trying to make her words true.
“Then I hope to see you at Dr. Reinhart’s talk,” Stoller said, with a careful wink. “We’ll certainly be there, listening carefully.”
Ann nodded. Even through her distraction she realized Carl was naming her competition. The dark-haired man turned more fully toward her, wrapping his long fingers around the neck of the tiny woman, and Ann knew she needed to leave. Now. The longer she bathed in this brooding scent, the harder it would be to disentangle herself.
She wanted to push the tiny woman with the auburn hair into the waterfall and take her place, placing the predator’s fingers around her neck and begging him to squeeze. As it was, she barely resisted the temptation to throw herself into his arms.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice weak. Maybe she could ask Dr. Stoller to escort her to the lobby? “Dr. Stoller—”
“Please.” He held up his hand. “Call me Carl. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see someone with whom I must speak.”
“Thank you, Carl,” she said, knowing she couldn’t ask him to take her to the lobby now. “Good night.”
He walked away, leaving her alone in the crowd.
She exhaled, trying to find some core of strength. She needed to run, get to her hotel room, away from the being who would ruin her life—but she couldn’t move.
In a swirl of subtle fragrances, lust pulled her eyes toward her enemy. It woke a craving in her, a craving too dark to bear. Her sisters had gone so willingly to their deaths, strangled by predators’ hands. And now the predator’s hand reached across the auburn-haired woman’s throat, and desire coiled in Ann’s belly.
He could close his powerful fingers around her tiny neck and snuff the life from her. He could claim her last breath, that final whispered gasp, for his own. He could free her soul into the balmy night.
The beauty of his power spun its spell, leaving Ann’s wrists longing for his lips, leaving her tongue hungry for his.
Ann could so easily be in the tiny woman’s shoes. The unnatural scent floating between them made her crave the attention the other woman received—even if it meant Ann’s own death. A predator always killed his prey, eventually.
This predator didn’t kill now, though. His fingertips purposefully traced the line of the tiny woman’s collarbone, his eyes still locked on Ann’s. His sexuality was so blatant—so dangerous—that her heart pounded. She could almost imagine him as the alpha stallion pawing the ground, shaking the earth beneath his hooves with his lust.
And the fragrance made her want to submit to his will, his strength.
She exhaled, anger winning the war against fear and lust—at least temporarily. If he thought she was some filly, some weak thing with whom to trifle, he was wrong. He could no more crush her neck in his palm than he could sprout wings and fly.
She could protect herself. She might not have the strength to fight, but she could run. Ann turned and walked through the door, her eyes on the elevator.
Ann.
What was that? Pain tore through her head, leaving her stunned. Leaning against the wall, she pushed her temples to try to counteract the searing pressure.
Anemone, honey. I need you.
Mom? She must be imagining this. She hadn’t heard from any family member in fifteen years. Mom?
I’m here. You have to listen to me. The predator has found you. You must stop him. The pressure in her skull lifted as her brain relearned the mindlink of her childhood.
Oh, Mom, I love you. In a haze of pain and shock, she remembered