Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [81]
He wanted her giving every part of herself to him, holding nothing back. He stayed still forcing her to look at him. She looked away quickly and then down at the floor. He gestured toward the stairs, with a small shrug. Judith took the lead and he deliberately brushed his fingertips over her denim-clad butt.
“You are one beautiful woman, Judith.” If she needed the subject changed, he would oblige. He had no compunction about returning on his own and finding out the things he wanted to know. She didn’t use her alarm system and he had been careful to commit the details of her home to the map in his mind. He would have no trouble finding his way around in the dark of the night where he mostly lived.
Instantly the tension drained out of her and she sent him a smoldering smile over her shoulder as she led him back into the kitchen.
“I like to have lunch on the balcony or in the garden when I’m not working at the store or gallery,” Judith explained. “It’s so beautiful outside, and the colors of the sky and forest along with the flowers always inspire me.”
Stefan unpacked the food containers and handed them to her. “That sounds good to me.”
He made certain that Judith forgot all about the uncomfortable moment standing in her hallway in front of the locked door. He got her laughing, kissed her thoroughly over and over and talked about creating kaleidoscopes, a subject he didn’t have to feign interest in. The afternoon melted away and when she glanced at her watch, he took the cue and stood up to leave.
ATTENTION to detail, meticulous attention to detail was the secret formula that kept men like Stefan Prakenskii alive. He noted every detail of his surroundings at all times. License plates, make and models of cars, animals and tracks, whether shades were up or down, the slightest detail was significant and could save his life. He’d learned such things in a hard school, where one small screw-up earned beatings that left him crawling across the floor, or out in the freezing cold snow and ice until he could no longer feel his body.
Those years of training, of enduring, had taught him to accomplish his mission no matter the hardship, to go on even when his body and brain protested and there was only his will driving him. Judith Henderson had become his mission. He would not fail in his objective. He was staking his claim and no one—no one—would stop him. Stefan knew only one way to play the game and that was life or death. For him, Judith was life and everything else was death.
Stefan pulled his vehicle through the gates with the birds following him every step of the way. The double gate swung automatically closed behind him. He drove toward the highway, surrounded by the forest, until he’d rounded several bends and knew if anyone from the farm was watching, his car was long gone from sight and sound. He drove off the road, into the heavy forest and parked in the shelter of the trees. It took him only minutes to change clothes and shoes and then slide weapons and tools into place. He had two visits to make tonight. The first to Judith’s locked studio and the second to his brother. In the meantime, he was going to sleep. He had learned to sleep anywhere at any time, even if for a couple of short minutes.
10
A single sound woke Stefan. His eyes snapped open, senses flaring out, one hand sliding to find the familiar butt of his Glock. Around him, the forest was dark. Overhead, clouds had formed, creating a series of rolling dark hills in the sky. Bats reigned supreme, darting here and there after the insects. Something heavy brushed along branches just once to his left. He had dismantled the interior light the moment he’d picked up the car from a lot, paying cash as always. He slipped outside the vehicle, not shutting the door