Her voice had lost its breathiness now, and as she appeared to relax, Malory detected the faintest hint of twang.

“Anyway, Carly’s been gunning for me for months. I guess the invite, seeing as she didn’t get one, put her nose out of joint. Next thing I know, she’s saying there’s twenty missing from the till. I never stole anything in my life. Bitch.”

She took another, more enthusiastic gulp of champagne. “And then bam! I’m out on my ear. Doesn’t matter. It’s not going to matter. I’ll get another job. I hated working there anyway. God.”

It mattered, Malory thought. The sparkle in Zoe’s eyes that had as much fear to it as anger said it mattered a great deal. “You’re a hairdresser.”

“Yeah. Hair and skin consultant, if you want to get snooty. I’m not the type who gets invited to fancy parties at fancy places, so I guess it’s a mistake.”

Considering, Malory shook her head. “I don’t think someone like Rowena makes mistakes. Ever.”

“Well, I don’t know. I wasn’t going to come, then I thought it would cheer me up. Then my car wouldn’t start, again. I had to borrow the baby-sitter’s.”

“You have a baby?” Dana asked.

“He’s not a baby anymore. Simon’s nine. He’s great. I wouldn’t worry about the job, but I’ve got a kid to support. And I didn’t steal any goddamn twenty dollars—or twenty cents, for that matter. I’m not a thief.”

She caught herself, flushed scarlet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Bubbles loosening my tongue, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dana rubbed a hand up and down Zoe’s arm. “You want to hear something strange? My job, and my paycheck, just got cut to the bone. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. And Malory thinks she’s about to get the axe at her job.”

“Really?” Zoe looked from one face to the other. “That’s just weird.”

“And nobody we know was invited here tonight.” With a wary glance toward the doorway, Malory lowered her voice. “From the looks of things, we’re it.”

“I’m a librarian, you’re a hairdresser, she runs an art gallery. What do we have in common?”

“We’re all out of work.” Malory frowned. “Or the next thing to it. That alone is strange when you consider the Valley’s got a population of about five thousand. What are the odds of three women hitting a professional wall the same day in the same little town? Next, we’re all from the Valley. We’re all female, about the same age? Twenty-eight.”

“Twenty-seven,” Dana said.

“Twenty-six—twenty-seven in December.” Zoe shivered. “This is just too strange.” Her eyes widened as she looked at her half-empty glass, and she set it hastily aside. “You don’t think there’s anything in there that shouldn’t be, do you?”

“I don’t think we’re going to be drugged and sold into white slavery.” Dana’s tone was dry, but she set her glass down as well. “People know we’re here, right? My brother knows where I am, and people at work.”

“My boss, his wife. Your ex-boss,” Malory said to Zoe. “Your baby-sitter. Anyway, this is Pennsylvania, for God’s sake, not, I don’t know, Zimbabwe.”

“I say we go find the mysterious Rowena and get some answers. We stick together, right?” Dana nodded at Malory, then Zoe.

Zoe swallowed. “Honey, I’m your new best friend.” To seal it, she took Dana’s hand, then Malory’s.

“How lovely to see you.”

Their hands were still joined as they turned and looked at the man who stood in the archway.

He smiled, stepped inside the room. “Welcome to Warrior’s Peak.”

Chapter Two

FOR a moment Malory thought one of the warriors from the gate had come to life. He had the same fierce male beauty in his face, the same powerful build. His hair, black as the storm, waved back in wings from that strong, sculpted face.

His eyes were midnight blue. She felt the power of them, a flash of heat along her skin, when they met hers.

She wasn’t a fanciful woman. Anything but, she told herself. But the storm, the house, the sheer ferocity of that gaze made her feel as though he could see everything in her mind. Everything that had ever been in her mind.

Then his gaze left hers, and the moment passed.

“I am Pitte. Thank you for gracing what is, for now, our home.”

He took Malory’s free hand, lifted it to his lips. His touch was cool, the gesture both courtly and dignified. “Miss Price.” She felt Zoe’s fingers go lax on hers, then Pitte was moving to her, lifting her fingers in turn. “Miss McCourt.” And Dana’s. “Miss Steele.”

A boom of thunder had Malory jolting, and her hand groped for Zoe’s again. He was just a man, she assured herself. It was just a house. And someone had to get everything back on an even keel.

“You have an interesting home, Mr. Pitte,” she managed.

“Yes. Won’t you sit? Ah, Rowena. You’ve met my companion.” He took Rowena’s arm when she came to his side.

They fit, Malory decided, like two halves of a coin.

“By the fire, I think,” Rowena said, gesturing toward the fireplace. “Such a fierce night. Let’s be comfortable.”

“I think we’d be more comfortable if we understood what’s going on.” Dana planted her high-heeled boots and stood her ground. “Why we were asked here.”

“Certainly. But the fire’s so lovely. There’s nothing quite like good champagne, good fellowship, and a nice fire on a stormy night. Tell me, Miss Price, what do you think of what you’ve seen of our art collection?”

“Impressive. Eclectic.” With a glance back at Dana, Malory let Rowena lead her toward a chair near the fire. “You must have spent considerable time on it.”

Rowena’s laugh rippled like fog over water. “Oh, considerable. Pitte and I appreciate beauty, in all its forms. In fact, you could say we revere it. As you must, given your choice of profession.”

“Art is its own reason.”

“Yes. It’s the light in every shadow. And Pitte, we must make certain Miss Steele sees the library before the evening’s over. I hope you’ll approve.” She gestured absently at the servant who entered with a crystal champagne bucket. “What would the world be without books?”