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And now she was back in Vista Verde, California, with a failed marriage to her credit, a brother who was missing, and no family to lean on.
In an effort to shake off her melancholy mood, she studied the three-story monstrosity across the street. They didn’t build houses like that anymore. Heck, they hadn’t built houses like that in over a hundred years. She had always wanted to see the inside, but she had never been invited past the entry hall. As far as she knew, no one else in the neighborhood had ever even gotten that far. The owner, Mr. Thorne, had been willing to let the kids on the block swim in his pool during the day, but neither the kids nor their parents had been welcome on the property after dark, and none had ever been allowed inside the house. She had often wondered what he was hiding in there. Maybe Sam had been right. Maybe Mr. Thorne really had been a drug dealer. That seemed far more probable than his being a Mafia hit man.
Thunder rumbled across the darkening sky, promising rain before morning. She shivered as a cold breeze rustled the leaves of the trees alongside the house. She should go inside, she thought, make a cup of hot chocolate while she tried to decide what to do with Granda’s house, what to do about Harry, what to do about the rest of her life.
Harry wanted to marry her, but after one failed marriage, Sky just wasn’t ready to try again, nor was she certain she loved Harry Poteet the way he deserved. He had wanted to come to Vista Verde with her, but she had told him she needed some time alone. He hadn’t argued, just told her he loved her and would be waiting for her when she returned to Chicago.
Sitting on the porch, wrapped in layers of nostalgia, Sky wasn’t sure she would ever be ready to return to Illinois. Like it or not, Vista Verde would always be home. Stay or go back to Chicago? That was the question. But she didn’t have to decide tonight. She had three weeks vacation from work to make up her mind.
Wrapping her arms around her middle for warmth, she gazed at the house across the way again, blinked in surprise when the front door opened, and a tall man stepped out onto the covered veranda.
Sky leaned forward, squinting into the darkness. Could it be ... ? A shiver ran down her spine as the man descended the stairs and crossed the street toward her. Dressed in black from head to foot, he almost disappeared into the night that surrounded him.
“Mr. Thorne.” His name whispered past her lips as he approached her.
He inclined his head. “Good evening, Miss McNamara.”
“You used to call me Sky Blue.”
“You were much younger then,” he murmured with a faint smile.
Skylynn studied him in the glow of the porch light. She hadn’t seen him in eight years and he hadn’t changed a bit. He had appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties when she went away to college, and he still looked that way. His face remained unlined, his eyes were the same shade of dark, dark brown, his hair was still shaggy and black, his body long and lean and muscular. The faint scar on his right cheek, which should have detracted from his devastating good looks, only served to make him appear more mysterious. Standing there, with his arms folded across his chest, he exuded an aura of raw sensuality and masculine confidence.
“I was sorry to hear about your grandfather,” he said quietly.
“His passing came as a shock,” Sky murmured. “Or as much of a shock as it can be, I guess, considering his age.” Still, Granda had been in good health when she had seen him at Christmas only last year.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time for the funeral.”
Sky nodded. “Please, sit down.”
She had expected him to take the chair across from her. Instead, he sat beside her on the swing, his thigh scant inches from her own. His nearness prickled along her spine.
“Are you planning to stay in Vista Verde?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I can. I have a good job in Chicago. Friends.” And Harry was there. She blew out a sigh. “I hate to sell the old house, though.” Realistically, she knew she didn’t have much choice. She couldn’t afford to live in Chicago and pay the taxes and the upkeep on this place, too.
“Too many memories,” Thorne remarked. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
“Yes.” She laughed softly. “And too many goldfish and hamsters and birds buried under the palm tree in the backyard.”
His laughter, rich and deep and decidedly masculine, joined hers.
It felt good to laugh. “I guess you think it’s silly.”
“No.” He draped his arm over the back of the swing. “I keep that old house across the street for the same reason.”
“Don’t tell me your backyard is a burial ground for deceased pets, too.”
“In a way.” He gazed into the distance for a moment. “Did your grandfather leave anything for me?”
“Not that I know of. There was nothing mentioned in the will. Were you expecting something?”
“No, not exactly.”
She looked at him askance. “What, exactly?”
“Paddy had developed a rather unique vitamin drink for me that I found most beneficial. I’m very nearly out of it and I was hoping he’d left the recipe for me.”
“A vitamin drink?” she asked, frowning.
“More like a tonic,” he replied smoothly. “Something to thicken the blood.”
“Really?” Was that why Thorne and her grandfather had spent so much time in the basement? “I’m sorry, Granda never said anything about that.”
“Perhaps you’d be good enough to look around in his lab when you have a chance?”
“Sure. Granda told me you moved away shortly after I left for college.”
Thorne nodded.
“Quite a coincidence, your coming back here at the same time I did,” she remarked, though, in truth, she didn’t believe in coincidence.
“Sometimes life is funny that way.”
Sky nodded, although there was nothing funny about the way he was looking at her, or the way her whole body vibrated at his nearness. It was an oddly sensual experience, as if every cell in her body had suddenly awakened from a deep sleep.
Unsettled by the intensity of his gaze, she looked away. What wasn’t he telling her? She thought it odd that Granda had never mentioned the mysterious tonic. And odder still that Kaiden Thorne, who looked as fit and healthy as a young stud horse, needed a tonic in the first place.
“I should let you go,” Thorne remarked, glancing at the dark clouds overhead. “It’s going to rain. And you’re cold.”
