sland of Patmos, three months later...

Olivia Sotiris eased the back door shut. It had to be about one-thirty in the morning, she guessed, but her inner clock was still on Central Standard Time.

Her ferry had arrived in the port of Skala that afternoon, and her grandmother was there, waiting with a young taxi driver who just happened to be single. After driving them the short distance to the Sotiris home in Grikos, the young Greek had stowed her luggage in the guest room, then taken them to a local taverna.

The whole village had gathered there to gawk at Eleni Sotiris's American granddaughter. And according to Eleni, every eligible bachelor on the island was in attendance.

Olivia endured several hours of gentle scolding in broken English from the older villagers. Her crime: not visiting Yia Yia, her poor grandmother, for six long years. It didn't matter that she saw her every Christmas in Houston, where her family lived and her grandmother migrated for a few months every winter. Olivia was still guilty of breaking her poor old widowed grandmother's heart.

At the time, her grandmother was bouncing across the dance floor with a line of young men, happily yelling "Opa!" and breaking plates, so Olivia decided this was one guilt trip she could decline. She drank more wine than usual, hoping it would help her sleep, but here she was, two hours later, wide awake.

And once again she questioned her reason for coming. Her supervisor had insisted she take time off, but part of her argued that running away from a problem never solved it. She should have faced the monster again. She should have told him the game was over. No more sick manipulation. But what if running away just proved he was still pulling the strings?

A chilly breeze swept off the sea and up the rocky bluff to the courtyard of her grandmother's house. Olivia snuggled her white blanket tighter around her green cotton pajamas. She wouldn't think about him anymore. He couldn't find her here.

She breathed in crisp, salty air. It was wonderfully quiet, with just the sound of waves breaking on the beach and the breeze ruffling the tamarisk trees. So peaceful. Except that her feet were freezing on the tile floor.

She padded across the courtyard. It was much the same as she remembered. On her last visit, the summer after graduating from high school, her father had built the arbor that covered a small section on the left. The grapevines had grown, their branches curling like snakes around the wooden frame. In the dark shade of the arbor, she could barely see the familiar wooden table and four chairs.

The rest of the enclosed courtyard had been left open to the sky, and a half-moon shone down, reflecting off the whitewashed walls of Yia Yia's house and the waist-high walls enclosing the patio. Three large clay pots, each one holding a small lemon tree, lined up along the right wall. Around the base of each tree, green clumps of parsley and mint grew. In the far corner, a pot of red geraniums stood guard by the stone steps that wound to the beach below.

Next to the geraniums, she recognized the telescope her father had given Yia Yia for Christmas last year. An excellent present, she thought as she glanced up at the night sky. So many stars. They were never this bright in the cities back home.

She reached the far wall, leaned her elbows on top and peered down at the beach. The moon glittered on the dark sea and gleamed off the white sand.

"You cannot sleep, child?"

Olivia whirled around. "Yia Yia, I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm a very light sleeper these - " Her grandmother's eyes narrowed. "Are you barefoot?"

Before Olivia could explain that she'd forgotten to pack house shoes, her grandmother scurried back inside, muttering about scorpions. A minute later she reappeared with some bright red booties.

"These are one size fits all, which means they are too big for me." She tossed them on the floor next to Olivia. "Your brother, Nicolas, gave those to me for Christmas. What was he thinking? A woman my age in red boots?"

Olivia smiled as she draped her blanket over the courtyard wall, then leaned against it to pull on the boot-shaped house shoes. Her brother probably thought the same thing everyone in the family thought. Eleni Sotiris never acted her age, unless it got her something she wanted. Her hair might be gray, but it was still long and thick. Right now, it hung in a long braid over her shoulder. She was still active, her eyes still sharp, and her brain even sharper.

Eleni cinched the belt tighter on her blue terry-cloth bathrobe. "Tell me what's troubling you, child."

"I'm fine. Just jet lag and - " Olivia stopped when she felt a flash of anger emanating from her grandmother. "Sorry. I'm used to telling people I'm fine when I'm...not."

Eleni sighed. "I understand, but you should know better than to lie to me."

Olivia nodded, relieved that her grandmother's anger had quickly dissolved. She knew all about her grandmother's strange gift, for she was the only grandchild to inherit it. They could both tell when a person was lying. And they could sense people's emotions.

"I've known you all your life, but I've never seen you this...frazzled," Eleni continued. "You were happy and relieved when you arrived, then you were annoyed with me during the party."

Olivia winced. "Sorry."

Eleni waved a hand in dismissal. "No matter. That's what family's for. But there is something else troubling you. Something...dark. And hidden."

Olivia groaned inwardly. It was hidden. She'd been repressing it for months. "There is a problem, but I�CI don't want to talk about it." She took the blanket off the wall and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"It frightens you," Eleni whispered.

Olivia's eyes welled with tears. He frightened her.

Her grandmother looped an arm around her and pulled her close. "Don't be afraid, child. You're safe now."

She hugged her grandmother and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away. Yia Yia had always been the one she relied upon, the one she told her secrets to. When she was young and struggling to adjust to her empathic abilities, it was only her grandmother who understood.

Eleni patted her on the back. "Who is frightening you? Is it a man?"

Olivia nodded.

"Did the bastard mistreat you? I could send your brothers after him to teach him a lesson."

Olivia laughed. Her skinny younger brothers would have trouble intimidating a Chihuahua. As usual, her grandmother had chased away the tears.

"You just leave this to me. I'll find a good man for you." Eleni stepped back and tilted her head. "Did you like any you met tonight?"

Olivia groaned. "I'm not looking for a husband."

"Of course you are. What are you, twenty-four? I had three babies by the time I was your age."

Olivia grimaced. "I have a career. A master's degree."

"And I am proud of you. But nothing is more important than family. What did you think of Spiro?"

"Which one was he?"

"The very handsome one. He was dancing on my right."

Olivia thought back, but couldn't remember a man who stood out. They had all congealed into a greasy blob of testosterone. "I can't recall."

"He's a good boy. Goes to church every week with his mother. Very nice body. Does push-ups every morning in his underwear. Not too hairy."

Olivia cocked her head. "And how do you know that?"

Eleni motioned toward the telescope.

With a gasp, Olivia noticed the telescope was not pointed toward the sky. She rushed over and peered through the eyepiece. A whitewashed wall came into view with a large window. "Yia Yia, what have you been doing?"

She shrugged. "I'm old, but I'm not dead. Spiro is a beautiful young man. And he takes good care of his goats. You should go out with him."

Olivia wrinkled her nose. "What on earth would I do with a goat herder?"

"Make little kids?"

Olivia snorted. "I can't get married. I can't even date worth a darn. It always ends up badly. I can tell when the guys are lying, and unfortunately, that's most of the time."

"We just need to find you an honest man."

"I'm afraid those have gone the way of the dinosaur." Olivia pointed the telescope away from Spiro's home. "How did you find Grandpa?"

"I didn't. My parents arranged the marriage."

Olivia winced. "How old were you?"

"Sixteen. I was from Kos." Eleni gestured to the south, where the island of Kos was located. "I met your grandfather here on Patmos at our engagement party. I told Hector right away that he must never lie to me because I would know. And I would make his life miserable."

Olivia blinked. "That didn't scare him away?" Learning that she was a human lie detector had certainly made her high school boyfriend run for the hills.

"Hector was surprised, but then he said we should both be honest, because if I lied, he could make me miserable, too." Eleni chuckled. "And then he said I was the bravest, most beautiful woman he'd ever met. And I knew he was telling the truth."

"Oh." Olivia's heart squeezed. "That's sweet."

"Six months after the wedding, he told me he loved me, and that was the truth, too." Eleni's eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"And he never lied?" Olivia whispered.

"Once. When your father was young, he fell out of a tree and broke his arm. Hector told me not to worry, that he was certain our boy would be all right. But he was lying. He was scared stiff. So was I."

"That's not much of a lie. He was trying to comfort you."

Eleni nodded. "Not all lies are bad. It is the intent to deceive that is bad. Your grandfather was a good man, may God rest his soul." She crossed herself in the Orthodox fashion, touching her right shoulder first.

Olivia crossed herself, too, an automatic response that had been ingrained in her since childhood.

Eleni blinked away her tears and straightened her thin shoulders. "I'll make you a cup of chamomile tea. It will help you sleep." She hurried back into the house.

Olivia rested her elbows on the courtyard wall and gazed at the beach below. A breeze swept a tendril of hair across her face, and she shoved it aside. Most of her long hair was secured on the back of her head with a big claw clip, but as usual, there were always a few unruly strands that managed to escape.

She took a deep breath, savoring her solitude. There were times, like during the party that evening, when the constant bombardment of everyone's emotions became hard to bear. It would feel like she was drowning, her own emotions submerged under the flood of those around her to the point that she feared losing herself entirely. She'd learned over the years to handle it, but still, every now and then she had to escape the maddening crowd.

Being an empath had certainly helped with her job. Unfortunately, her unique abilities had also caused the monster to become obsessed with her. Don't think about him. You're safe here.

A movement far to the left caught her eye. She turned toward a grove of tamarisk trees, but only saw them swaying with a breeze. Nothing strange there.

Then she saw him. A lone figure emerging from the dark shadow of the trees. He was jogging along the beach. At this time of night? He reached a clear, sandy expanse where the moon shone brightly, and Olivia forgot to breathe.

His body was beautiful, and she suspected his face was, too, but it was hard to tell at this distance. Dressed in dark jogging shorts and a plain white T-shirt, he moved quickly and easily along the beach. His skin seemed pale, but that could be caused by the moonlight.

She sucked in a deep breath as he came closer. He was a big man. His T-shirt was stretched across wonderfully broad shoulders, the short sleeves tight around his biceps.

If only she could see his face better. Her gaze drifted over to the telescope. Why not? She rushed over, pointed it in the man's direction, and peered through the eyepiece.

Oh, yeah, he did not disappoint. His eyes looked sharp and intelligent. Pale, though she couldn't tell the color. Green, she hoped, since that was her favorite. He had a straight, strong nose, a wide mouth, and a strong jaw with a sexy hint of dark whiskers. There was a grim expression on his face, but it didn't make him unattractive. Quite the opposite. It added to his aura of masculine power.

He passed by the house, and she admired his sharp profile for a few seconds, then lowered the scope to his body. His chest expanded with each deep breath, and she found herself matching her breaths to his. Even lower, she noted his muscular thighs and calves. His white running shoes pounded on the sand, leaving a steady trail.

He continued down the beach toward the rock known as Petra, giving her a glorious view of his backside.

"Opa," she muttered as she continued to spy on him through the telescope. She'd seen plenty of fit men during her training days for the Bureau, but this guy put them to shame. While their muscles had seemed forced and clumpy, this guy looked completely natural, moving with an easy, graceful control.

She was still focused on his rump when she noticed the attached legs were no longer moving. Did he run out of steam? He hadn't seemed tired. His jogging shorts slowly turned, affording her a long look at his groin. She gulped.

She raised the scope to his chest. Oh dear. That huge expanse of chest was now facing her direction. Surely, he wasn't...She lifted the scope to his face and gasped.

He was looking straight at her!

She jumped back, pulling her blanket tight around her. How could he see her? The courtyard was dark and the walls reached to her waist. But then the walls were whitewashed and she was cocooned in a white blanket, and the moon and stars were bright. Maybe he could see this far. Surely he hadn't been able to hear her? She'd barely spoken over a whisper.

He stepped toward her, gazing at her with intense eyes. Oh God, he'd caught her ogling him with a telescope! She pressed a hand against her mouth to keep from groaning out loud. Apparently, the smallest of sounds was carrying across the beach.

He took another step toward her, and the moon glinted off his hair. Red? She hadn't met any redheaded men at the party. Who was this man?

"Olivia," Eleni called through the open door. "Your tea is steeping."

She strode into the kitchen and waited impatiently for her mug of tea. "There's a man on the beach."

"Are you sure? It's almost two in the morning."

"Come and see. Maybe you know him." Olivia wandered back to the courtyard and peered over the wall.

He was gone.

"He - He was there." Olivia pointed south toward Petra. There was no sign of him anywhere.

Eleni gave her a sympathetic look. "You're exhausted and seeing shadows. Drink your tea, child, and go to bed."

"He was real," she whispered. And the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Dear God, please let him be real.

Bloody hell, she'd better be real. Robby sprinted up the stone steps to Roman's villa. He'd hate to think that three months of forced boredom was causing him to see things. Lovely things like an angel dressed in white, gazing down at him from an ivory tower.

He strode around the pool and Jacuzzi to enter the whitewashed house. It was an old house, but thoroughly renovated with all the modern amenities. Carlos was in the family room, lounging on a sofa, watching a DVD and munching popcorn.

Robby waved at him as he passed into the kitchen. He retrieved a bottle of synthetic blood from the fridge and silently cursed his great-great-grandfather.

Angus must have guessed he intended to escape this forced vacation, 'cause by strange coincidence, this house had suddenly become everyone's favorite vacation spot.

Roman Draganesti and his family had visited the last week of August and the first half of September, accompanied by their bodyguards, Connor and Howard. Since Connor and Howard both worked for MacKay Security & Investigation, they reported straight to Angus. And Robby had been unable to slip away.

Then Jean-Luc Echarpe and his family had stayed for the last half of September, accompanied by their bodyguards, who also worked for Angus. Then Jack and Lara dropped by for a few weeks. Then Ian and Toni, and now Carlos. And of course, they all worked for MacKay S&I.

Jailors. That damned Angus was using his employees as jailors to keep him on his island prison. He stuffed the bottle into the microwave and punched a button.

"What's up?" Carlos wandered into the kitchen with an empty popcorn bowl.

"Nothing." Robby leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest.

"Something's up. I've been here two weeks, and every single night, you go out for a run. Then you come back, give me a dirty look, and growl that I should call Angus and tell him you're in great shape and not crazy."

"Did ye call Angus?"

"No. They don't have a clue where Casimir's hiding. You might as well stay here and enjoy yourself."

Robby sighed. Angus could make better progress locating Casimir if he wasn't sending some of his best employees here to babysit.

"Something's different," Carlos continued. "Tonight you came in with no scowling or growling. Why the change?"

Robby shrugged one shoulder. "I'm trying to convince you I'm no' crazy. If I kept doing the same thing when it wasna working, would that no' be crazy?"

"Good point." Carlos rinsed the bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. "So you're trying a new strategy tonight."

Robby removed the bottled blood from the microwave and filled a glass. "Tonight I saw an angel."

Carlos's eyes widened. "And you're still trying to convince me you're not crazy?"

Robby snorted. "No' a real angel. No' unless they've taken to watching the mortal plane with telescopes."

"Ah." Carlos grinned. "You caught a babe, scoping you out. Was she hot?"

She was a goddess, a beautiful Greek goddess, but Robby didn't feel like sharing that news with the Brazilian shape-shifter who could meet people during the day, while he was dead to the world. "She was all right."

"Just all right? I thought she was an angel."

Robby ignored the comment and took a long drink from his glass of synthetic blood.

"Did you talk to her?" Carlos asked. "Get her number?"

Robby frowned at his half-empty glass. "No." He'd heard her whisper in Greek, so he wasn't sure she understood English. "There's no point in pursuing her. My prison term will be over in three weeks."

Carlos rolled his eyes. "You're not in prison, muchacho. Besides, a lot can happen in three weeks."

Robby finished his glass. He wasn't the sort of man who could indulge in a casual fling. When he was attracted to a woman, there was nothing casual about it. And he was definitely attracted to this woman.

The minute he'd laid eyes upon her, the world had screeched to a halt around him. He'd forgotten he was on vacation and due to leave soon. He'd forgotten it was the wee hours of the morning and not a proper time to approach a lone woman. He'd forgotten he was a stranger dressed in sweaty gym clothes and likely to frighten her. Hell, he'd even forgotten he was a vampire and had no business getting involved with a mortal. He'd simply been drawn to her.

And then, suddenly, she'd disappeared. He'd sprinted all the way home, wondering if he'd just imagined her. After all, he'd jogged down that beach every night for the past three months. If she lived in that house, why hadn't he seen her before?

"If you see her again, you should talk to her," Carlos said as he strode from the kitchen. "A beautiful woman might be just the therapy you need."

"I doona need therapy," Robby grumbled. He just needed revenge. Three months of exercise had whipped him back into shape, and he was ready to go. Ready to leave this wretched island and hunt Casimir down.

The angel's lovely face floated back into his mind, erasing the image of his enemy. She had to be real. A mere dream couldn't have affected him this strongly. He had to see her again. Even when there were a dozen reasons why he should avoid her, he'd still try to see her again.

Maybe he did need therapy after all.

It was past three in the morning when Olivia finally fell asleep. Unfortunately, it was Sunday morning, and her grandmother woke her at dawn so they could go to church. Apparently if she didn't go, everyone in Grikos would say bad things about her.

Afterward, Olivia was put to work in the kitchen, helping her grandmother cook an enormous amount of food, and then, surprise! Two of Yia Yia's best friends showed up for dinner with their eligible sons. Olivia was cordial, but disappointed that neither of them had red hair. Luckily, their English was as limited as her Greek, so she didn't have to talk much. Her mind kept wandering back to the man on the beach. Who was he? Would he be back tonight?

By nine o'clock in the evening, jet lag and sleep deprivation caught up with her, and she stumbled off to bed. As she pulled the blanket up to her chin, she told herself she'd only take a short nap. She'd be in the courtyard at 1:00 A.M., waiting for the mysterious jogger to pass by.

She blinked awake when sunlight poured into her window. "Oh no!"

She sat up and looked at her bedside clock. Eight-thirty in the morning? Damn. She slipped the red booties onto her feet and shuffled into the kitchen.

"There you are, sleepyhead." Her grandmother was stirring something on the stove. "I've already been to the bakery. There's fresh bread on the table next to the honey jar. I'll bring you a cup of tea."

"Thank you." Olivia sat down and cut off a thick slice of bread. As she reached for the honey jar, she noticed the narrow vase in the center of the table with a single red rosebud. "I didn't know you grew roses."

"I don't. You can't eat them." Eleni set a cup of tea on the table and regarded her with a gleam in her eye. "I think you have a secret admirer."

Olivia blinked. "Me?"

"Who do you think he is? Giorgios or Dimitrios?" Eleni referred to the men who'd come over the day before.

"I don't know." Olivia's mind had immediately snapped to the mysterious jogger with red hair and intense eyes. Could it be him? She reached out to touch the soft red petals. "You didn't see who delivered it?"

"No." Eleni planted her hands on her hips and frowned at the flower. "There was no note with it. I swept the courtyard early this morning, and while I was sweeping off the steps I found it halfway down to the beach. It was lying there, pinned down by a rock."

Olivia's heart raced. "Then whoever left it came from the beach." It had to be from him.

Eleni gasped. "Of course! It's from Spiro! He lives just down the beach." She clasped her hands together, grinning. "My beautiful Spiro and Olivia together, right here on Patmos. Oh, the beautiful babies you'll have."

"Wait a minute. I'm not so sure it came from Spiro. And I don't want you getting your hopes up about me living here. I specialize in criminals, and I seriously doubt if Patmos has enough of those to keep me in business."

Eleni sat at the table with a huff. "We do have criminals. Last year there was a boy from Hora whose bicycle was stolen. Right in front of the monastery, too. It was shocking."

Olivia shook her head as she drizzled honey on her bread. "Not bad enough."

"Humph. Why do you need criminals? Can't you help normal crazy people? Patmos has plenty of those. There's a goat herder in Kambos who talks to his goats."

Olivia sipped her tea. "It's not unusual for people to talk to their animals."

"Ah, but in this case, his goats talk back. And the solid black goat speaks Turkish."

Olivia stifled a grin. "He's the worst case you've got to offer?"

Eleni tilted her head, considering. "Well, there's the old widower in Skala who was caught peeping in Maria Stephanopoulos's window. His son started taking him to the nude beach at Plaki once a week, so he's much better now."

Olivia nodded. "I'm afraid that Peeping Tom syndrome is contagious. I heard there's a widow woman in Grikos who uses a telescope to spy on a nearby goat herder."

Eleni scoffed. "I'm not a Peeping Tom! I'm just admiring Spiro. He's a work of art. It's like I'm going to the museum. And I've never seen him naked. That wouldn't be right, not when I want him to marry my granddaughter."

Olivia winced, then took a bite of bread. Maybe her grandmother had a point. Not about Spiro, but about her work with criminals. Her life could be so different if she played it safe and lived here.

Who was she kidding? She wouldn't last two months before boredom drove her absolutely bonkers. She thrived on the excitement that came with her work at the FBI. At least she had until her job had brought her into contact with one criminal in particular. The monster, Otis Crump. She didn't have to worry about him sending roses. That sick pervert preferred apples. Big red apples.

"Hmm." Eleni drummed her fingers on the table as she glared at the rose. "I don't like secrets. I want to know who this admirer is."

Olivia sighed. If dreams could come true, her secret admirer wouldn't be Spiro, Giorgios, or Dimitrios. He'd be the mysterious man who jogged along the beach in the middle of the night. Could he have left the rose?

Her heartbeat raced at the thought. One way or another, she'd find out tonight.