Absolutely, Positively

yes.”

    “Well, I think that whoever set up that prank has just played another one on me.”

    “Bastard,” Harry whispered. He tightened his grip on the phone. “As bad as the first?”

    “It was similar to the first one, but I have to admit this one was a lot more effective. I don't think I've ever been so frightened in my entire life.”

    “Are you all right?” Harry was already out of bed, heading across the room toward the closet.

    “Yes, I'm fine. It was harmless. Just very scary.” Molly hesitated. Her voice dropped to a low, apologetic mumble. Sorry for bothering you. I don't know why I called you. I dialed your number without really thinking about it.”

    “It's all right.” Harry cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear while he yanked open the closet door.

    “I shouldn't have called at this hour.”

    “I said forget it. I'm on my way.” Harry pulled on the first pants he found, a pair of olive-green chinos. “I'll be there as soon as I get the car out of the garage.”

    “Thanks.” Relief was audible in Molly's voice.

    “This time we notify the cops.”

    “Now, Harry, I don't want to do anything rash. I'm sure this is just another practical—”

    “I'll see you in a few minutes.” He tossed the phone into the cradle, grabbed a shirt, slid his feet into worn running shoes, and headed for the door.

    He refused to think about the red king.

    The streets were empty. Within ten minutes of leaving his garage, Harry drove through the massive wrought-iron gates that guarded the aging monstrosity Molly called home. The gates had been unlocked from inside the house.

    He surveyed the old house as he shut off the engine. Light glowed in every window, including the peaked attic. Molly must have gone through each room and switched on every single lamp.

    Whoever had pulled this stunt had definitely succeeded in scaring Molly. The perpetrator had probably not counted on the secondary effect he'd achieved, Harry thought as he loped up the front steps. The bastard had not yet realized that he'd also gotten her consultant's full attention.

    He would not leave Molly here alone tonight, Harry promised himself. He didn't care how much she argued. She was coming back to his condominium until he could decide how to deal with the situation.

    The front door opened just as he raised his hand to pound on it. Molly stood there, silhouetted by the hall light. She clutched the lapels of an oversized white terry-cloth bath-robe in one hand. Her hair looked as though it had been through an explosion. Her eyes were huge and shadowed.

    “Harry.” She stared at him for an instant as though not quite certain what to do next.

    Before Harry realized her intent, she hurled herself straight into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder.

    He caught her close.

    She had called him. She needed him. She was right here in his arms. Where she was supposed to be.

    The dark longing gathered within him, seeking that which it could not have, that which it would inevitably destroy.

    Harry sucked in air. With a savage act of will he got a grip on himself and the wild emotions that threatened to sweep through him. He would not allow the hunger to gain control. There was too much at stake. He could not risk terrifying Molly. He must not lose her.

    “It's all right. I'm here.” Gently he set Molly away from him. It was not easy. Her arms seemed to be locked around his neck.

    Reluctantly Molly raised her face to look at him. “Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it. I shouldn't have bothered you.”

    “Forget it.” Harry searched her eyes and relaxed slightly. She was flushed, but not with fear of him.

    He saw that her robe had parted, revealing an incredibly innocent-looking white nightgown trimmed with a delicately scalloped neckline. Her breasts rose gently above the scallops. Her nipples, visibly erect, were pressed against the gossamer fabric. Harry flexed his hands and listened to his blood as it roared through his veins.

    Molly glanced down, blushed, and hastily secured the robe. “Come in. I'll make some tea.”

    Harry realized his fingers were trembling slightly. He stepped across the threshold and closed the door.

    “It's every kid's worst nightmare. The monster under the bed.” Molly poured tea from a white earthenware pot. The one thing she took care to prepare by hand was tea. There was something about good tea that demanded the personal touch. No machine, not even one