“Wait, I’m just fleshing her out. She’s ambitious, full of nerves, highly sensuous without being fully aware of it.” He could see her eyes change, growing as dark as the sky above them. “She’s caught in the middle of something she can’t explain or understand. Things happen around her and she’s finding it more and more difficult to distance herself from it. And there’s a man, a man she desires but can’t quite trust. He doesn’t offer her the logical explanations she wants, but the illogic he offers seems terrifyingly close to the truth. If she puts her trust in him, she has to turn her back on most of what she believes is fact. If she doesn’t, she’ll be alone.”

He was talking to her, about her, for her. Lee knew her throat was dry and her palms were damp, but she didn’t know if it was from his words or the light touch on the ends of her hair. “You’re trying to frighten me by weaving a plot around me.”

“I’m weaving a plot around you,” Hunter agreed. “Whether I frighten you or not depends on how successful I am with that plot. Shadows and storms are my business.” As if on cue, lightning snaked out in the sky overhead. “But all writers need a foil. Smooth, pale skin—” He stroked the back of his hand up her cheek. “Soft hair with touches of gold and fire. Against that I have darkness, wind, voices that speak from shadows. Logic against the impossible. The unspeakable against cool, polished beauty.”

She swallowed to relieve the dryness in her throat and tried to speak casually. “I suppose I should be flattered, but I’m not sure I want to see myself molded into a character in a horror story.”

“That comes back to fate again, doesn’t it?” Lightning ripped through the early dusk as their eyes met again. “I need you, Lenore,” he murmured. “For the tale I have to tell—and more.”

Nerves prickled along her skin, all the more frantically because of the relaxed hours. “It’s going to rain.” But her voice wasn’t calm and even. Her senses were already swimming. When she started to rise, she found that her hand was caught in his and that he stood with her. The wind blew around her, stirring leaves, stirring desire. The light dimmed to shadow. Thunder rumbled.

What she saw in his eyes chilled her, then heated her blood so quickly she had no way to keep up with the change. The grip on her hand was light. Lee could’ve broken the hold if she’d had the will to do so. It was his look that drained the will from her. They stood there, hands touching, eyes locked, while the storm swirled like madness around them.