Family Man

north of Seattle to this desolate section of Oregon. Nevertheless, Katy suddenly could not wait to get back into her car and scurry home. She did not care if she had to drive all night. She wanted this unpleasant expedition completed as soon as possible.
    “I assume you're Luke Gilchrist,” Katy stated. She had learned long ago to be assertive around Gilchrists. They tended to turn lesser mortals into road kill without even noticing the thump.
    “I'm Gilchrist,” Luke said. “Who the hell are you?”
    “Katy Wade, your grandmother's personal assistant.” Katy tightened her grip on her briefcase and tried not to notice the way his dark voice ruffled her nerve endings. What was the matter with her? she wondered. Gilchrists never had this effect on her.
    “Ah, Ms. Wade,” Luke drawled softly. “I thought you might show up sooner or later.”
    “I've been trying to reach you for weeks, Mr. Gilchrist. I've left no less than twelve messages on your answering machine. I also sent four Express Mail letters and two telegrams. I know you received the letters and the telegrams. I have receipts showing that they were delivered. You signed for them.”
    “So?” Luke propped one sleek shoulder against the doorjamb and regarded her with the patented Gilchrist vampire stare.
    Katy had to admit that Luke did the look better than anyone else in the family. She found his alarming green eyes far more disturbing than those of the rest of the clan.
    There was something literally mesmerizing about his gaze. Katy had a sensation of vertigo, as if she were about to fall into pools of emerald fire. A curious thread of unfamiliar excitement began to uncoil within her.
    Desperately she tried to focus on something besides his eyes and wound up examining his attire.
    He was dressed in a snug-fitting black crew-neck sweater, black chinos, and low black boots. The clothes emphasized the natural elegance of his lean frame. All Gilchrists seemed to have an affinity for the color that best suited their difficult personalities. They all favored black.
    And they all had nice white teeth.
    “So, you have not given me the courtesy of a response, Mr. Gilchrist.” Katy held tendrils of her wind-whipped red hair out of her eyes as she glowered up at him.
    “I never respond to people who call on behalf of Justine Gilchrist or Gilchrist, Inc.” His eyes raked her from the top of her red head to the toes of her very yellow high heels. “Nothing personal.”
    Katy felt herself blushing furiously under his intent examination. For an instant she was certain there was something disturbingly sensual about the way he was watching her. In the next breath she told herself it had to be her imagination. No Gilchrist would ever be attracted to her. She was definitely not their type.
    And they certainly weren't hers.
    At that moment the dog, which stood nearly thigh-high to its master and had a broad head that reminded Katy of a snake's, whined hungrily. The beast's lips curled around the bowl clamped in its teeth. Saliva dripped from its mouth.
    Katy got hold of her scattered senses and squared her shoulders. “Look, Mr. Gilchrist, would you mind if I came inside? It's starting to rain.”
    She started boldly up the steps, knowing that if she waited politely for an invitation, she would probably end up standing outside for the duration of the conversation. Gilchrists were quite capable of exercising a near-lethal charm on occasion, but they only did so when it suited them. Katy guessed Luke Gilchrist didn't consider her worth the effort.
    Luke and his dog both hesitated as she strode toward them. Then with a shrug Luke stepped back into the hall.
    “What the hell. You're here now, and you don't look like the type to leave without a struggle.” Luke glanced down at the dog. “Out of the way, Zeke. Looks like the lady's coming inside.”
    Zeke gave Katy a glowering glance. He whined softly one last time, displaying enormous fangs. Then he reluctantly turned and padded down the hall. He vanished around the corner into what must have been the living room.
    “Why does he carry that dish around like that?” Katy asked uneasily.
    “Zeke never goes anywhere without his dish.”
    “I see. What type of dog is he?”
    “Damned if I know. He wandered into the yard a couple of years ago and stayed. He's got most of the qualities I require in a housemate. He doesn't make a lot of noise, doesn't have to be entertained, and doesn't borrow my stuff.”
    “Yes,