Page 20 of Autumn Ritual

That line of reasoning didn’t lull the logical side of my brain.

“I don’t know if he was even here last night.”

It had been years since I sleepwalked. Dreams were sometimes so vivid that I mistook them for reality. And since I couldn’t find any physical evidence, I was inclined to think I wasn’t crazy enough to have mind-blowing sex with the masked man.

Not that he’d worn a mask last night.

I wanted Cam. Badly enough that I could have made the whole thing up.

Once I used the bathroom and slipped into a robe, I trotted downstairs. My glasses had been on the nightstand where I usually kept them. So that piece of evidence didn’t line up with the dream. I distinctly remembered them falling on the living room rug.

I was about to dismiss the whole event as a crazy, wine-induced fantasy, when I pulled up short in the kitchen.

The black roses were real enough.

I blinked hard, willing them away.

But there they were.

And I knew without a shadow of a doubt who’d left them.

“Well, if he wants to visit me without revealing himself, I won’t call him out,” I said lamely. There was no point “unmasking” him. I was curious to see where this thing went, because…I knew it was far from over.

Chapter 9 – Cam

Coming from the already pitch-black yard, I strolled into the kitchen of Raven Manor and snatched the cup of coffee waiting on the island. The butler shot me a calculated look but decided against stopping me. With a smirk, I tipped the cup back. The tiny drink was barely a swallow.

“Hey! That was mine,” Lucian grumped as he pushed through the swinging door of the dining room where he’d finished his supper.

I smirked. “Thanks.”

My first cousin rolled his eyes. “I’m your boss; show a little respect.”

And I could gut him before he blinked. That was the delicate balance of our relationship.

“Vaffa,” Lucian muttered. He drummed his fingers against the counter. With a sigh, he changed the subject. “The Russian is ready for you.”

I dropped the cup on the tiny saucer and walked toward the backdoor. I’d only come into the house to mess with him.

Lucian’s next question stopped me cold. “Was that you? At the harvest ball with Sara Caputo?”

Hand on the doorknob, I stiffened. Cold tingled through my veins. “It was.”

“Nice of you to take the invalid,” Lucian drawled.

His title as boss be damned. I balled my fists to resist drawing my gun. “She hasn’t been sick for years. She survived—” because she’s a fighter “—and now, she’s thriving.”

Lucian shrugged. “My father let her leave because he said it was what she deserved after the hell she’d been through. But now, she’s back. Why? Is she sick again?”

I ground my molars. “No.”

Lifting his hands, Lucian smoothly delivered another blow. “But there’s always a chance she could be.”

“Careful, signore,” I spat. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.”

One dark brow lifted. “Your girl?”

I slid my hands into my pockets before they wrapped around his thick throat. “Mine.”