Paranormal Heartbreakers Boxed Set

by Jeanne Rose

  Concentrating, he barely heard her next question.

  “I’m so fascinated by this place. Are you willing to show me the upstairs . . . your bedroom?”

  His bedroom. All senses alert, Val stared at her, meeting wide gray, willing eyes.

  He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t refuse her.

  Emptying his glass, he set it down on the mantle and picked up one of the candles. Then, pulse jagging through his veins, he held out his hand, “Come with me.”

  Lips trembling, she put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her up the stairs.

  THE CANDLE VAL WAS CARRYING pooled light across the stairs as they ascended. Imagination working overtime, Adriana felt as if she were being led to a secret chamber in an old Gothic novel. Nerves. Hers were jumping. They both knew why she’d asked Val to take her to his home. But now she was having second thoughts, analyzing her motivations, wondering if she was desperate to get closer to him as some kind of denial of death.

  Val wasn’t rushing to prove anything, and for that she was thankful.

  His consideration gave her time to breathe. To think. Her major reflection being: why was she so bereft every time she thought of him picking up and leaving town?

  One would imagine he’d put her under some kind of magic spell. Even now, she felt as if she were operating half in this world, half in a dream. A state that was becoming more and more familiar to her.

  While Val’s touch was cool, heat spread up her arm to make her entire body glow with warmth. And the deep longing she’d felt off and on since meeting him surfaced.

  “This way,” he said, turning to the right at the landing, the timbre of his voice penetrating her very being.

  They approached a door and she assumed his bedroom lay on the other side. Her breath quickened. All kinds of imaginings whirled through her head. Exciting. So very exciting. And equally scary.

  So when he opened the door and invited her in, she hesitated just a moment. But if she didn’t accept, she would never know what might lay on the other side. What they might mean to each other.

  Again, as he had when they’d entered the house, Val said, “Wait there while I see to some light.”

  And the fact that he didn’t mean electric lamps seemed the most normal thing in the world. She watched him move around, touching flame to myriad white candles of all thicknesses and heights.

  Soon she could see well enough to determine his private quarters were more fully furnished than any room she’d explored so far, as if he spent the most time here. All the pieces were antiques in prime condition. A dresser with intricate brass knobs. A chest of drawers. A chaise lounge. An armoire. A four-poster bed with heavy wine-red hangings that could be closed to shut out anything from disturbing the occupants inside.

  Thinking about being cocooned with Val started her heart pounding. She lowered her gaze to the mattress . . . and widened her eyes at the sight that greeted her.

  “Valentin?”

  “Yes?” he asked without turning from the candle he was lighting.

  “We have company.”

  A sleepy-eyed, black dog – a scruffy Lab mix – lay curled in the middle of the wine-red coverlet. When Val approached, the animal raised its ears, one of which had been recently battered, and sat up. All the while the dog whined through its nose and wagged its matted tail.

  “I thought we had this discussion before,” Val said sternly, gazing into the dog’s big brown eyes, “and decided you were not to make yourself at home up here.”

  Appearing dejected, ears and tail suddenly droopy, the dog slipped off the bed, dropping to the floor.

  “Try to remember that your bed is downstairs,” he told the dog, giving it an encouraging pat that raised its ears and made its tail wag. “And your food. Go on, now.”

  Eyebrows arched at the scenario, Adriana said, “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  “I don’t.”

  Like he didn’t have cats, either. “Then what do you call that?” she asked, as the animal left the room, limping slightly. “He was hurt,” Val said, sounding almost defensive. “I merely gave him temporary respite from the vagaries of the world.”

  Adriana grinned. So Val had a dog. She wondered how the cats liked the newest addition to the household. She chose not to ask. Why push it? Val wanted to believe that he was unencumbered, that he could pick up and take off for Hungary any time he wanted, but he simply had too many creatures depending on him. Subconsciously, he must want to stay. Eventually, he would come to terms with the fact.

  In the meantime, any doubts she’d had about being here with him melted away. Terrible temper or not, this was a man who gave a helping hand freely to others, whether human or beast. As for his not having an aura . . . being involved in black magic . . . Irina was going off the deep end with her attachment to anything metaphysical, Adriana decided.

  For, knowing the little she did about him, how could she distrust Val?

  The longing grew stronger.

  And in this room where time was suspended, being with Val more intimately seemed so right. She couldn’t think of anything else. He stood at the edge of the bed, barely a yard from her. She drew closer to him, taking in every detail of his face beneath the thick black hair that strayed across his forehead – high Magyar cheekbones, straight nose and a wide mouth that at times could be cruel, but at the moment was utterly sensual. As were the golden brown eyes driving into her, trying to read her thoughts.

  “Like what you see?” she whispered, stopping a heartbeat away from him.

  “More than you can imagine.”

  “Don’t be too sure.” Her pulse rushed through her. “I have a great imagination.”

  Right now she was envisioning what it would be like to be surrounded by him . . .

  . . . and as if he was actually inside her head, Val slid his palms over her arms. Her flesh responded, pebbling even when his hands continued on, his arms eventually encircling her back. His golden eyes slitted. Her breath caught in her throat. Then he was helping her – his mouth covering hers, he was breathing for her.

  “Val,” she murmured.

  Adriana.

  Without speaking, he called her name and she heard.

  The longing deepened, her mind becoming thick and fuzzy with her building desire. She’d never felt like this before. Not about anyone. She couldn’t define the thing that consumed her, the need that went beyond her experience. She only knew that Val was the only one who could help her assuage it.

  Suddenly, he ended the kiss, whipped his head away and shoved her from him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her upper arms.

  “You are free to change your mind,” he told her.

  “I don’t want to change my mind.” She wanted to be cocooned in the four poster, Val taking her to heights of ecstasy she’d only dreamed of before.

  “You must be sure . . . must change your mind now if you will . . . or I do not think I can stop.”

  She lost herself to his gaze. “Then don’t.”

  His arms flashed around her again, his mouth working magic. He kissed her lips, her nose, her chin. He laved her throat, lingering there for a moment before moving lower. Her breasts strained through the thin material of her dress; his teeth teased them until the nipples hardened into sensitive peaks. Pressing her to him, he lifted her skirts, and with his free hand explored the exposed flesh above the sheer stockings held up by a lacy garter belt.

  Val’s hand on the inside of her thighs made Adriana quake inside. He set to examining the simple maze of her undergarments, found and breeched the edge of the lace covering her. She moaned and pushed forward until he easily insinuated a single finger into her heated center. Her knees weakened and she clung to him, her back and neck arching, her long hair streaming free behind her as he moved his hand, plundering her with sensation.

  His mouth connected with her throat. He worked his magic there as he ripped away the restricting lace below and allowed the undergarment to drop to the floor. A
gain he found her wet warmth, and she raised a leg, curling it around his thigh and knee so she would be more open to his pleasuring her. Rocking against his hand, she made soft whimpering sounds as the pressure inside her built, through a sensual haze wondering why he didn’t stop so they could both undress.

  “Open your eyes,” Val commanded in that hypnotic tone. “I want to see your pleasure.”

  Panting now, she forced her lids slowly open as he increased the tempo of his hand. “What about your pleasure?”

  “No need to rush,” he answered. “Besides, you are very pleasing, indeed.”

  His words allowing her to give over to the demand he created. But a minute more, and she was crying out, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside her.

  With a triumphant growl, Val removed his fingers from her heated flesh and used them to unzip the back of her dress. Consumed by the dizzying force he’d brought forth in her, she was of little help. The dress dropped to her ankles, and she stood before him clad in nothing but a lace-edged camisole, the matching garter belt, stockings and shoes.

  He lay her back against the bed and removed only the shoes, letting them slip to the floor unheeded. And when she gripped the edge of the camisole, he said, “No. Leave it on. Let me imagine your full beauty a while longer.”

  Obeying, she relaxed as best she could, watched him do a male strip-tease. His golden eyes were hot on her as he kicked off his own shoes while slowly removing his jacket and shirt. She noted his chest and shoulders and upper arms were firmly muscled, his waist tight and trim. He dropped the trousers and her gaze lowered to where he strained against his briefs. Then, they, too, were discarded, and he stood before her nude and definitely ready to take his pleasure.

  Once more, she tried removing the camisole, once more he dissuaded her, this time physically. Climbing onto the bed, he inserted himself between her knees and caught her wrists with his hands. His fingers felt like iron manacles as he pulled her hands over her head.

  “Open for me,” he commanded softly, and she spread her legs wider.

  Without any preliminaries, without the use of his hands to guide himself, he unerringly found her, impaled her so swiftly that her back arched and she pushed at him in response.

  “You are so smooth, so welcoming. No wonder I could not resist your invitation.”

  And she had invited. Had been waiting for this nearly since the moment they’d met. Him inside her, thrusting harder. Her lifting her hips, wrapping first one leg, then the other around his back, so as to give him complete access. With each stroke her excitement rose so that she grew restless. Needing. Wanting.

  He suckled her breasts through the satin and lace, the garment’s texture increasing the excitement of his mouth. Then, with a nip that left her gasping, he allowed his mouth to wander higher, over the swell of her breasts, up the expanse along her collar bone and around to her jaw. He suckled the flesh directly below her left ear.

  She throbbed all over. Inside and out. She arched her neck, crying, “More. Please, more!” Not even knowing exactly what more she wanted.

  With a groan, he complied, thrusting faster inside her, sucking harder on the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. Her heart pumped, her pulse raced. She turned inside out with wanting, was teetering at the pinnacle, and still she knew she could climb higher.

  “Do it! Do it now!” she demanded hoarsely, pressing her neck harder into his mouth.

  Val’s body tensed and he bit down on her flesh. Tiny pricks of pain pushed her over the phantom edge. Blood flowed through her at a neck breaking speed as she cried out. This time the pleasure was multiplied. She was reeling. Floating. Unable to speak . . .

  And Val released a roar that made her tremble inside. Was that ecstasy she heard?

  Or agony?

  His magic wrecked havoc with her senses even after they collapsed into each other’s arms. Everything seemed unreal. And wonderful if a little distant. Her vision was blurred. Her concentration negligible. She was content merely to exist, to float forever.

  The myriad candles set around the room seemed to multiply, making the room seem enchanted. Definitely romantic. And undeniably erotic.

  Sometime later, she stretched and spoke as if in a dream. “I never realized it would be like this between us.”

  And Val rolled over, scooping her to his side. “You have no idea of what it really might be like.”

  She thought to question that curious statement issued in such a serious tone, but she couldn’t summon the energy. Her body felt so light, as if she could rise and leave it behind. Or, perhaps, float in truth. Fly. She’d had tons of dreams of flying as a child – probably true of most everyone – but hers had never quite gone away.

  Smiling, she snuggled closer to Val, seeking his warmth, but his flesh wasn’t heated and sweaty as hers still was. His skin was dry and barely warm to the touch. She was surprised that he’d cooled off so fast.

  Her neck throbbed where he’d nipped her and she set the flesh against that of his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Mesmerizing.

  Realizing she wasn’t exactly coherent, Adriana gave it up and let her mind drift, suspecting that, despite the fires that still burned deep inside her, despite the intense feelings she wanted to share with Val, she was having a difficult time keeping her eyes open.

  She focused on Val’s handsome, enigmatic features, wanting them to be the last thing she saw before she slept and the first thing she saw when she awakened.

  ADRIANA WOKE, muzzy and disoriented, restless after having an intense erotic dream. Or was it? She remembered asking Val to take her to his home, remembered him leading her up the stairs to his bedroom, remembered . . .

  “Val?” she murmured, but received no response.

  She stretched out, searching the bed with a lazy hand. Empty. Eyes adjusting to the first gray preceding daybreak, she realized she was in her own room, her own bed.

  But how had she gotten there?

  She sat up, concentrated. Remembered making love. More than once.

  Or had she been in the thrall of erotic dreams all night long? Val certainly wasn’t around, though her body told her he had been . . .

  And where was her beloved cat, who always slept with her, if not on her?

  “Phantom?” she called, but heard no responding meow. Through bleary eyes, she searched the room until she spotted the black ball of fur tucked into a corner. She stumbled out of bed. “There you are.”

  Then stopped short when the wide-eyed cat fluffed herself up and growled deep in her throat.

  Concerned, never having seen Phantom acting anything but loving toward her, Adriana stooped and held out her hand.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” she murmured soothingly. “Aren’t you feeling well?” She wasn’t feeling so well herself, but she tried not to panic, thinking the cat might be sick. “C’mon here, Phantom.”

  The quizzical lightning-split face tilted and the cat stared at her suspiciously, sniffing the air as if her mistress were a stranger.

  “Hey, sweetie girl, it’s me. C’mon,” Adriana urged her. “C’mon.”

  Making up her mind, the cat carefully inched forward, and as if realizing that this was, indeed, the mistress she loved, finally relaxed and rubbed against the extended hand. Adriana smoothed down the fur along her spine and Phantom responded as always. She wasn’t hurt. Her nose was cool and wet. And her purr-box was working perfectly well. She was vibrating like an engine.

  Relieving Adriana greatly.

  So what had all that silliness been about? Then it hit her. Phantom must have been put off by Val’s scent on her . . . and, more unusual, the scent of their lovemaking. She hadn’t been with a man since finding the cat, so this was new and maybe scary to the animal.

  Maybe Phantom was simply jealous.

  Picking her up, she squeezed and kissed the silly furball. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  The faint smell of coffee tempted her and she knew Jennifer would be up having breakfast, getting rea
dy to leave for work. Deciding she would surprise her sister and join her, Adriana set down the cat and rose, swaying with the abrupt movement. What in the world? Surely she wasn’t coming down with the flu or something. Her world righted and she realized she was stark naked.

  She found a robe and drew it around her, wondering why everything that happened after entering Val’s bedroom the night before was one big blur, a confusion of vague images and memories.

  Wonderful, scintillating visions.

  She might think their lovemaking really had been one long series of dreams if her body didn’t feel so thoroughly and deliciously ravished. Not one inch of her flesh had been neglected. And every inch longed to be touched again. She sighed.

  Then vague memories floated through her mind. Val helping her to dress . . . bringing her out to a waiting taxi . . . seeing her to the elevator and to her door in the middle of the night. Curious that she didn’t remember the security guard Henry saying anything to them. Could he have not noticed or had she forgotten?

  Adriana hadn’t any more of a clue than she did as to the time she’d arrived home.

  A glance in the mirror brought her back to the present. Her hair looked like a fright wig. Adriana picked through the long strands, untangling the knots, then found a brush and worked on it till the wavy strands shone. She gathered the heavy mass behind her, thinking to clip it back, then noticed the marking on the left side of her neck.

  Though the room was still shadowed in the gray pre-dawn light, a closer inspection in the mirror revealed a slight bruising . . . and were those breaks in the skin?

  Her pulse began to thrum.

  She dropped her hair and stepped back from the mirror, frowning.

  Vaguely remembered urging Val to do something . . . then feeling him bite her.