Steven Macklin wakes up in a ditch one morning in foul, wet weather with no idea where he is or how he came to be there. Seriously injured, he struggles across bleak heathland to find shelter. The only house he finds is weather-beaten and deserted, although he's too sensible a guy to fall for the cliche of a haunted mansion.<br><br>Isn't he?<br><br>When he collapses and is taken in by the handsome Eliot, Steven finds himself in a very disturbing situation -- and  in the bed of this strange, possessive man.

His Gift

The man was, in popular speech, sex on legs. I’d always laughed at that phrase when I heard it aloud. It was trite and embarrassing. And never true! But facing its personification now I understood its power. This man wouldn’t be humiliated in any way by such a description—he’d surely revel in it. 


“There’s no need for fear,” he said. 


I flushed. I’d almost forgotten my sharp, angry questions as I examined him. 


“I’m Eliot and you’re here now.” His voice was calm and low. Amusement rippled beneath it. I thought him a similar age to myself, and despite my underlying nervousness and shock, his arrogance annoyed me.


But he’d helped me, right? I drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit confused. Um…Eliot. Look, thanks for your help, I just need to get in touch with someone to come collect me, take me back.” 


Back where? My mind was still reaching for memories that mischievously eluded me. Where had I come from, where was I headed?


Chapter 4