Witchcraft

slapped a bar napkin over the wound. "We found Starke's jacket and knew it was you and not some deer who had triggered it. But we couldn't figure out where you'd gone at that point. When you broke into the winery you tripped another alarm, though, which pinpointed your location. We were right behind you. And then we started hearing all those bottles you were throwing around with such cheerful abandon." Cave naugh's mouth twisted wryly. "Some of my best Cabernet Sauvignon, by the way. I may send you a bill."
    "Of all the nerve!"
    "On second thought," Cavenaugh said consideringly , I think I'll just take it out of your sweet hide." He released her to bend over the young man in the robes. Fumbling beneath the flowing garment he retrieved the silver dagger. "Call the cops, Starke. And see if you can get hold of that Detective Cranston we've been working with."
    "Right." Starke picked up the phone and dialed. It was several hours later, nearly two in the morning, before Kimberly finally got to bed.
    Julia and Aunt Milly and Ariel had fussed over her while Mrs. Lawson fixed a soothing herbal tea according to Ariel's directions. Aroused by the hubbub, Scott had wandered sleepily downstairs to see what was going on. Cavenaugh and Starke dealt with the police, while concerned neighbors and guests asked countless questions of one another and of Kimberly. "Maybe you'll be able to work this into one of your plots."
    Mark Taylor said lightly at one point. "Mark!" Julia scolded. "Don't joke like that." But ultimately the guests and the authorities took their leave. The man in the monk's robes was thrust into the back of a patrol car and taken away, too. He had revived by then but to the best of anyone's knowledge he hadn't said a single word. Alone at last, aware of her own exhaustion but feeling too restless and wound up to sleep, Kimberly slipped into her T-shirt and crawled into bed. She lay in the darkness and reran the entire episode over an dover in her mind. It seemed to her that it would be a long time before she could get the image of that raised dagger out of her head. Every time she closed her eyes it was there, poised and ready to strike. Her body seemed periodically racked by fine shivers. It was just reaction , she knew, but she couldn't seem to control it. She was lying on her side, staring out the window when her bedroom door opened softly and then closed again. Kimberly knew who had entered the room without having to see his face. " Cavenaugh ?" "I told you I wasn't going to let you out of my sight again." She heard him undressing in the darkness and she turned slowly to meet his shadowed gaze. Her amber hair was spilled around her on the pillow, and the sheet was pulled taut across her breasts. Cavenaugh's possessive eyes moved over her as he slipped off his ruffled evening shirt. "What about the proprieties? What about the uh, awkwardness of my position as a guest in your household? What about your concern for my potential embarrassment?" She tried to make the words light and teasing, but the truth was she was incredibly glad to have him here and she knew it must have shown in her voice. "What about moving over?" he countered as he stepped out of the last of his clothes. "I may not have mentioned it the last time I slept here, but I happen to prefer the left side of the bed."
    "I'll keep that in mind." Obediently she moved to the opposite side. But the forced lightness in her words ended as he got into bed beside her. With a small cry she went to him, clinging to his reassuring warmth and strength. "Ah, Cavenaugh , I was so scared tonight."
    "I know how it feels, sweetheart," he rasped thickly. "Believe me, I know how it feels. God, you were brave." He stroked her hair, twining his legs with hers. "YOU looked like a warrior queen when I came through the door. I wanted to kill that punk on the floor. If you hadn't already knocked him out, I probably would have. It was too close, Kim. Much too close for my peace of mind. That's why I couldn't let you stay alone tonight."
    "I would have had nightmares," she confessed. "YOU think I wouldn't have had them, too? That little scene in the tasting room is going to haunt me for a long time." He continued to stroke her, not with passion but with long, soothing motions. "I can't seem to calm down," Kimberly whispered tightly. "All my nerves feel as though they've been plugged into an electric outlet."
    "It's reaction, honey, just reaction. Takes a while for your system to