Madison ran to catch up with them. "Abby! What did you do to my baby?"
"Nothing." Abigail winced when Dolly tried to leap out. She quickly set the bag on the floor.
Dolly jumped out and scampered into the West Wing. Abigail chased after her, then halted at the doorway that led into the waiting room outside the Oval Office. Madison and Josh stopped beside her. Two Secret Service agents were stationed across the room, just outside the door to her father's office. Her heart stuttered when she spotted the mystery man halfway across the room, seated beneath a painting.
Dolly advanced toward him, growling and baring her sharp little teeth. He stood, his attention focused entirely on the dog. Abigail opened her mouth to tell Dolly to stop, but the dog suddenly collapsed onto the carpet, limp and silent.
"Dolly!" Madison ran to her dog and fell to her knees.
She lifted her dog's head. "Dolly, speak to me! Oh my God, what's wrong with her?"
"She's fine," the mystery man said, glancing back at the pair of Secret Service men, who remained quiet and expressionless. "I think she's . . . sleeping."
"Sleeping?" Madison repeated, her eyes wide.
Josh leaned over to inspect the dog. "She's okay. She's still breathing."
"Oh." Madison pressed a hand to her chest. "Thank God." She peered down at her pet with a perplexed look. "Poor baby. She must have worn herself out."
Abigail watched silently from the doorway, her gaze darting back and forth between the limp dog and the mystery man. A strange thought seeped into her mind, that somehow he had shut the dog up and caused her to fall asleep. She opened her mouth to question him, but then his gaze shifted to her.
And she forgot how to talk.
She'd almost fainted before from seeing him at a distance. Now that he was close, she could hardly think. Hardly breathe. Her heart pounded, and her mouth grew dry. She licked her lips, and his gaze flickered to her mouth, then back to her eyes.
His eyes were green, she noted. A grayish-green that reminded her of green moors shrouded with mist. Beautiful, but mysterious. And potentially dangerous.
He inclined his head, never taking his eyes off her. "How do you do? I'm Gregori Holstein."
Gregori? He pronounced his name in an Eastern European fashion, but his accent seemed American. Abigail bit her bottom lip, not certain how to proceed with him. Could he possibly possess some sort of strange psychic power?
"I'm Madison." Her sister scrambled to her feet, cradling Dolly to her chest and apparently unaware that Mr. Holstein had not been talking to her. "Josh, would you be a dear and fetch the dog bag?"
Josh glanced at the other two guards, then strode from the room to do Madison's bidding.
Abigail eased into the room. It was decorated in typical White House fashion: uncomfortable chairs grouped around antique tables, expensive draperies, paintings and ornate mirrors on the walls. She looked about nervously, pretending not to notice that the mystery man was still staring at her. But she was aware. Skin-tingling aware.
Madison eyed him curiously. "Did you say your last name is Holstein?"
"Yes." His gaze flicked to her, then back to Abigail.
Madison sidled close to her sister and whispered, "He can't be one of them. No self-respecting vampire would ever be named after a cow."
He grinned.
Good Lord, his smile. Abigail's pulse jumped into warp speed, but then she blinked and narrowed her eyes. His canine teeth looked very pointed. And his hearing was extremely good. "You - you saw us on the balcony?"
He nodded, his eyes twinkling with humor. "The next time you try to hide in the shadows, you should take off the white lab coat."
Oh, of course. Her cheeks grew warm. That was how he'd managed to see her. Although she could have sworn he'd been looking at her face.
"Are you a doctor?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"You are too," Madison whispered, then raised her voice. "She has a Ph.D. in biochemistry."
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Abigail couldn't tell if he was surprised or impressed, but he was certainly watching her closely. That alone was enough to make her pulse jump to warp speed six. "You seem to have excellent vision and hearing."
The corner of his mouth curled up just enough to show a dimple. "How kind of you to notice."
"Excuse us a moment, please." Abigail pulled her sister outside the door and glanced back at him. He turned politely away to study a painting, presenting her once more with a devastating view of his profile. Good Lord. No man should be that handsome.
"Do you realize he fits every item on your checklist?" she whispered to Madison. "Expensive taste, pale skin, extremely attractive?" She spotted his grin once again. Blast him! "His sense of hearing is downright scary."
Madison sighed. "I can see where you're going, but that guy's not a vampire. He doesn't sparkle. And he didn't fly here as a bat."
He turned toward them, chuckling, and Abigail ignored his dimples to zero in on his canines. His extra-sharp and pointed canines.
He squelched his smile.
Interesting. She strode back into the room. "There's a rumor going about that the Undead will be visiting the White House. What do you think, Mr. Holstein? Do you believe vampires could be living secretly among us?"
His eyes narrowed, and she felt an invisible crackle of tension as if the air between them had suddenly turned electric.
Warp speed seven. She lifted her chin. "Are you living a secret life, Mr. Holstein?"
His eyes gleamed a brighter green as he stepped toward her. "What about your secret life, Abigail?"
She blinked.
"You are Abigail Tucker, aren't you?" He stepped closer. "Why do you hide from the cameras?"
"I don't want attent - " She did a double take at the mirror on the wall. She was reflected, but he wasn't! With a gasp, she glanced back at him, but he'd moved out of the way. Very quickly.
Had she imagined it? It had all happened so fast. She looked at the mirror, briefly noting her own pale and shocked expression. Madison was also reflected. And her Secret Service man, Josh, who had just returned with the dog bag. They were too busy lowering Dolly into the bag to notice anything amiss.
She cast a nervous glance at Mr. Holstein. He was frowning, his mouth thin with annoyance. He adjusted his tie with an angry jerk.
"You could use the mirror to fix your tie," she suggested quietly.
He clenched his fists tight, then relaxed them.
He was nervous, she realized. He didn't want to be . . . discovered.
She gasped. His gaze cut immediately to her, the green of his eyes growing more intense.
Warp speed eight. Her heart thundered in her ears. Could it be true? No. She was a scientist, and all her years of study were clamoring in her head screaming no! She could not accept this.
"I don't believe it," she whispered.
He remained silent as he fiddled with his cuff links.
She moved in front of him. "You can relax, Mr. Holstein. I'm not going to accuse you of something that's not scientifically possible."
He arched a brow at her. "And what is scientifically possible, Miss Tucker?"
"Facts. What I can observe or measure."
"And what about the intangible? Do you believe in feelings? Anger, fear, love?"
"Of course. Love is actually scientific." She stuffed her clenched fists in the pockets of her lab coat. "It generally begins with physical attraction which triggers a chemical reaction that releases dopamine into the bloodstream - "
"Is that why your heart is racing?"
Her heart lurched. Warp speed nine. "I don't know what you're talking about. My pulse is perfectly normal."
His mouth curled into a slow smile. "Tell me, Abigail. Why does a beautiful woman like you hide in the shadows?"
She froze. If he was trying to throw her off her guard, he was certainly succeeding.
He moved toward her. "Do you go by Abby? Or Gail?"
"I - " Good Lord, she could hardly remember her own name with him so close. She lifted her chin. "Do you go by Greg? Or does Gori suit you better?"
His mouth twitched. "Do I seem gory to you?" He leaned in close enough she could feel his breath against her cheek. "Is that why your heart is pounding? Do you think I'm frightening?"
Could he actually hear her heartbeat? She swallowed hard. "I'm not afraid."