In the shadows in the corner of the room, a dark figure stirred.

The rapid throb of her blood roared in her ears. She pressed herself back as she gulped down a deep breath.

He pushed himself up, away from the wall and stepped into the light. As his golden gaze trapped hers, recognition slammed into her. The man from her dreams, and an unwanted heat flooded her body at the memory.

Please God let this be a dream.

Under the sheet, she pinched herself viciously on the thigh. She didn’t wake up.

Bugger.

It looked like this time he was all too real. Even so, her terror diminished until she could study him objectively.

Holy crap.

He was stunning. His black hair was pulled into a ponytail revealing a face full of hard angles and shadows, sharp cheekbones, a mouth held in a stern line and those amber eyes that glowed golden.

The rest of him was just as impressive. Tall, at least six-four, and broad shouldered, his long legs encased in black leather pants, an ankle-length leather duster coat over the top, he looked lean and mean and dangerous. And familiar.

Something unwelcome fluttered in her belly and she had to force herself to look away. She licked her dry lips. “Who the hell are you?”

He remained silent, assessing her.

“And what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” She peered sideways, hunting for her cell phone.

“We need to talk.” His voice, dark and low, like crushed velvet rubbed against her skin.

“Like hell we do.” She found the phone at last and brandished it like a weapon. “You need to get out of here before I call the cops.”

He took a step closer, his lips curling as Lily pulled the sheet up around her neck, clutching it tight in her fingers.

“Tell me, Lillian Palmer, why did you visit Taryn Carnack?”

Her breath caught. She’d never heard the name before, but she had no doubt where he meant—the standing stones. “I—” She clamped her lips closed. What was she supposed to say—that she’d had a dream? He’d think she was crazy. Then she could add that she’d also had dreams about him, about the two of them together… and he’d know she was crazy.

So she remained silent. He pursed his lips as if considering his next move. “Get out of bed,” he said softly.

“No way.”

He reached inside his coat and pulled out a pistol. A big one.

Lily’s heart pounded against her ribcage and sweat broke out on her palms.

He held the gun casually, so it appeared almost an extension of his arm, and he pointed it straight at her head.

“Get out of bed,” he repeated.