But before he was able to complete his task, his senses were bombarded with her, with the rhythm of her breath, the heat of her complexion, the explosion of jasmine blended with the scent of the wind in her hair. He was engulfed in life. Life, so sorely missed, flowed through him. Her life.
Before the rapture of it tempted him never to leave her, he tore out of the back of her and disappeared over the wall and into the surging sea.
Chapter Two
Magnolia Montgomery spunaround on her heel and searched the air for the thing that had gone through her and left her shaking. She hugged herself, shivering against the biting cold he left behind. It covered him in icy chains. She felt the weight of it all. The danger of the hatred and unforgiveness of what remained of his heart, seeped deep within her.
Her teeth chattered.
The Ghost of Graven. She knew of him. She’d been raised in the States but she’d been hearing of him for the last six years since she moved back to England. He was believed to be Lord Oliver Gracehaven, Earl of Harwich, husband of Lady Eleanor Montgomery, Maggie’s great-grandmother, six times removed.
Normally, Maggie found no interest in such fancy tales. But when it had become known to her that she was the only living descendant of Lady Eleanor, thereby granting her title and ownership of Graven Fortress, she dedicated her life to learning everything about it, including about its ominous ghost.
She had no idea why she had been able to see him earlier. She’d never seen a spirit before. She believed that what she felt and smelled while he went through her was an illusion meant to frighten her. She would have either fainted or wept for such a sorry soul. She might have offered him her sympathy if he hadn’t intruded on her like a virus. What right did he have to barge through her, to go where no other man, or any human for thatmatter, had gone, and without her consent? Why had he done it? It was like the most extraordinary kind of intimacy. It left her wanting to feel it again. It angered her for the same reason. She glared up at the sky, then below to the sea. He was somewhere.
Bastard.
“Miss Montgomery?” She almost stumbled as she turned around. It was the foreman, Dave. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and managed a smile, then stepped around him to head back inside. She was shaken to her core, and she felt…wet. She shivered and wiped her hands over herself as if something unwanted covered her.
She hurried down the stairs with Dave the foreman chasing behind her.
When she reached the first landing, she paused, seeing at least fifteen men carrying ladders and various heavy tools filing into the broken-down hall.
“Those are the carpenters,” Dave informed her from behind. “Over there, are the electricians, and the masons are outside setting up the scaffolding.”
She was going to be here for the next three months with that ghoul. It was all she could think about. Though Graven technically belonged to her, because of the number of generations that had passed, there was no proof besides the claim of a mysterious person known as T. Ashmore that they would deliver birth records from over a dozen centuries proving that Maggie was Eleanor’s relative. The fortress was placed in trust. That’s when she returned to England, proved her citizenship and landed a job at Essex Trust.
The restoration of Graven Fortress was her project. She’d worked hard and tirelessly to see this endeavor through. She’d fought for the grant, built an online site where people could donate funds with incentives. She trudged over the city applying for all the licenses she needed. And that was all before the grantcame through and she had to hire everyone. She was exhausted but elated to see all her hard work coming to fruition. Her heightened mood had to be the reason she’d seen a gorgeous, vampire-looking guy working hard to get her to leave, to give up on Graven. Never.
She looked up the stairs behind her. Soon, the repairs would begin and the stairs would be cut off. Would the Ghost of Graven leave the battlements and enter the fortress to haunt her—haunt everyone? Work would never get finished.
She’d read about all the failed attempts at restoration due to workmen and -women quitting soon into starting, claiming a ghost threatened to kill them.
She stomped her foot. He better not come down here and try to scare everyone. Sure, she was afraid of him at first but she’d stopped being afraid when she realized he might truly be real and planned on scaring her men away.
“There she is!” Henry Hyde, who’d been with her on the battlements first, hurried forward, followed by four other men. Henry was the senior head manager at Essex Trust and had insisted on overseeing this project, his reasons more than professional. But Maggie didn’t care if he was on the project or if he wanted to ask her out. She would decline. Everyone in the office knew Maggie didn’t date. She’d been dubbedThe Frozen Flower of Essex.If Henry thought he was any different, he’d be severely disappointed.
“Tell them you saw the Ghost of Graven,” Henry urged, reaching her.
“I’m not sure what I saw,” Maggie let him know.
“What?” Henry’s expression faltered. “You told me you saw him. I saw him too,” he let her know. “He was swollen and his skin had gaping holes in it from being eaten by fish and—”
“Enough,” Maggie scolded, holding up her palms. “There are no such things as ghosts—and even if there is, he’s not going to take Graven from me.”
She moved around Henry and almost stepped right through the brooding apparition from the battlements. So then, he wasn’t confined to the wall.
His arms were crossed over his chest while he dripped water on the floor around him.
She looked up at his face, into his eyes. She knew she shouldn’t have. She was afraid to see the dark rage that filled him, but he only stared at her with lavender eyes. Or were they blue? They pierced through her as deeply as his body had. She looked away and walked around him, pretending he wasn’t there. The last thing she wanted was for the men to see her interacting with a dead guy. They’d all quit.
She had to stop short again to avoid walking through the slightly transparent spirit blocking her path again. “Leave me alone,” she warned in a hushed whisper between her teeth. She waved her hand in front of her, swatting at the air. “Flies,” she explained when she noticed the men watching her.
A box to her left slid across the floor as though it had been kicked. Everyone looked at it.
“The rumors about this place are true,” one of the men said and backed away.
