Chapter 1

Rosalyn tucked a stray wisp of auburn hair into her tight chignon as she watched the elevator doors slide open. Only eight a.m. and she already felt as if she were falling apart.

Something seemed wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She hesitated as she eyed the crowded interior of the elevator car. No way am I climbing six flights in these heels, she decided as she squeezed inside.

The cloying scent of mingling perfume, cologne, after-shave, and deodorant made her want to pinch her nose shut. Rosalyn didn't understand the overwhelming need of most people to cover up their natural scent. Cleanliness and a light touch of deodorant or lotion were more acceptable to her than bathing in chemicals. She stifled a cough, wondering why it bothered her so much today, then turned to face the doors as they opened again.

She saw him for the first time.

Incredibly handsome, almost beautiful, he was tall and lean. Rosalyn thought he probably looked normal to everyone else. But he caught her immediate attention with his air of arrogance, his hunter's attitude, danger emanating from every pore. His neatly trimmed hair gleamed under the artificial lighting – a rich, mahogany brown with deep gold streaks strewn throughout and a hint of gray at the temples. With a firm upper lip and full sensuous lower one, his mouth reminded her of Elvis. His deep brown eyes were mature and knowledgeable when they met hers as he stepped into the empty space beside her. He towered over her. More than six-foot tall to her barely five-foot height.

Rosalyn felt overwhelmed. Goose bumps crawled up her arms. He held her gaze. Perspiration beaded her upper lip in spite of the early morning chill lingering in the office building. He gave her a half smile and she would swear he winked at her. Rosalyn quickly turned away, but felt forced to shift nearer to him when several passengers behind them attempted to exit at the next floor. Her elbow brushed his sleeve and tingles ran up her arm, a slight gasp escaped.

He's the one. But it's not possible – it's not time for him to come yet.

She went stone still as she caught a snippet of conversation from the women behind her.

"Yeah, Benny has it planned as a Valentine's Day surprise, but his sister told me all about the reservations." The woman giggled like a teenager. "Imagine, tomorrow night I'll be wined and dined..."

Rosalyn tuned out the rest, caught up in her own tumultuous thoughts. Valentine's Day – how could I forget? Tomorrow? How could February the fourteenth sneak up on her? How could she have ignored all the ads and the cards, the hearts and flowers plastered on everything?

She needed to make plans, fast, before it's too late.

Stealing a quick glance at the tall, dangerous-looking man near her, a terrified thought crossed her mind. I've already left it too late.

The elevator whirred to a stop at the sixth floor. The doors slid open with a gentle whoosh. Rosalyn hurried forward to escape the emptying elevator. The man jostled against her as they both stepped toward the opening at the same time.

He grasped her arm to steady her. Rosalyn felt her nerve endings contract with terror at his touch. He was definitely the one. He had come for her.

"Excuse me," he said, smiling down at her. The smile sat easily on his lips, but his eyes held a cold, hard glint deep within, just for her.

"Not your fault," Rosalyn responded as she quickly withdrew from his grasp. But she didn't believe it and knew he didn't either. He wanted her to be aware of him. She just wanted to get away.

Quickly exiting the elevator car, she tried to escape, to avoid him until after midnight tomorrow when she would be safe once more.

He caught her arm, stopping her flight to ask, "I need to see Mr. Norbett. Do you know where I can find him?"

"That way... Just... Go that way," she answered, pointing with a trembling finger as she tried to move away.

This can't be happening to me. I can't do this. Rosalyn shook her head slightly to get rid of the fear taking over her mind. How can everything around me be so normal with him here?

"By the way, allow me to introduce myself..." The handsome man stepped nearer to her side, close enough for his fine wool suit sleeve to abrade her overly sensitive skin. "I'm Varian Sanderson. I'm sure you know why I'm here," he added in a deep, silky purr.

Rosalyn felt the color drain from her face and it seemed the blood in her veins turned to ice water. This one is different. He's actually warning me. I'll stay at home tomorrow. I'll call in sick and lock myself in. I...

Varian caught her arm again. "Are you all right? You've gone quite pale." One thick brown eyebrow rose in question. His eyes stared intently, accusingly into hers.

His touch burned her elbow and she jerked away.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped sharply. Seeing two associates down the hallway stop to stare in her direction, she lowered her voice to hiss, "Stay away from me. Don't come near me again."

Rosalyn escaped behind a door marked Women. She thought she heard a low laugh follow her as she turned the lock.

Shaking from head to toe, she leaned against the lavatory to draw in deep breaths. Nausea threatened, but she swallowed it down, pushed it away. She must think. She survived last year – and the four years before that. She could do this, just as she had for the last five Valentine's Days. But this one frightened her more than any she'd faced thus far.

He wanted her to know him, to know why he was here. What if...?

No, I won't go there. It's exactly what he wants. He wants to feel my fear. He wants me to panic and do something stupid. Maybe he – what was his name? Varian? Is that Latin for 'changeling'?

Her brain sought further distraction from the terror, but found none. No, I'm doing it again, losing control. I refuse to give in. I will not panic.

Cold water splashed repeatedly on her face helped Rosalyn gain enough composure to seek out her supervisor. She didn't bother to ask, but hurriedly stated she needed to take a couple of sick days.

Perhaps it was Rosalyn's pasty white face, the look in her eyes, or her unusually abrupt manner, but she received no argument.

Surprising from a boss who normally expected attendance from employees even during childbirth or major surgery.

Rosalyn gathered up her jacket and purse before striding cautiously to the elevator. She smelled Varian before she saw him. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled in warning. Funny how her senses became so acute at this particular time of year.

As she punched the call button, he sidled up behind her. His scent called up memories of too many flowers crowded into one room – like one found at a mortuary. A faint whiff of formaldehyde, a lingering haze of mold, with a hint of rotting meat – death. That was it, he smelled of death.

"Leaving already, Rosalyn?" he whispered near her ear. "It won't do you any good. I'll find you. But I do enjoy a challenge. At least try to make it interesting." Varian chuckled when she hurried away down the hall. He softly called after her, tauntingly, "See you later. Valentine's Day starts at midnight tonight, you know?"

Rushing into the stairwell, Rosalyn kicked off her heels then grabbed them up. She raced down the stairs, heart thudding against her chest walls, while she bit back the desperate desire to scream for help. Her shredded hose clung around her feet by the time she reached the lobby, but she kept going. Out the front door and down the street, barefooted, she ran to the safety of her car.

Teeth chattering from the cold of the cloudy February day, she started the engine before wrapping her jacket around her shoulders. What am I going to do now? She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, fighting against the tears, until the car warmed up enough to leave.