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.