Whispers

by Suzanne Rock

  She waited, but the kiss never came. She opened her eyes to find him studying at her.

  "You smell like Jonathan,” he observed.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I spoke with him upstairs. He said that you two were under a curse and bound to this house for eternity. I want to help you break the curse and set you free."

  "It's not exactly a curse.” He straightened and frowned. “But that doesn't matter much now.” He tilted his head to the side. “We don't scare you?"

  "No.” She lifted her chin. “The owner of this house hired me to get rid of you."

  "I see.” He turned his lips up into a sultry smile. “And you just agreed to do it out of the goodness of your heart.” His voice was thick with sarcasm.

  "No."

  He rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Then why did you offer help?” He ran his gaze over her body once more, causing her skin to warm. “You are young and most likely have better things to do than run around talking to ghosts. Why would you answer the crazy summons of an old woman?"

  "She's not crazy. You're really here."

  "But you didn't know that."

  She looked away from those all-knowing eyes. “People say that I can talk to ghosts."

  "And?” he asked when she didn't continue.

  "And...” She returned her gaze to him. “I didn't believe them."

  "And now?"

  She shrugged and walked over to the window. “Now I don't know what to believe. The rumors in London label me an eccentric."

  "You say that like it's a bad thing."

  "Isn't it?"

  "Not to me."

  "People say that my eccentric tendencies drove my husband to his death."

  "Did it?"

  Rose turned around and stared at him in shock. “No."

  "I'm sorry for your loss."

  "Don't be.” She turned back to the window. “He was a gambler and unfaithful. I refuse to mourn someone who was never mine to begin with.” She watched the moonlight dance across the bushes outside. “It was soon after his death that I attended a dinner party. The host said the house was haunted. I proved that the noises she heard were nothing more than air whistling through her drafty windows. Rumors spread, and soon I was called all over London to identify every little disturbance in the night."

  "You could always say no.” He came up from behind and stood close, very close. His body heat surrounded her and made her skin tingle with anticipation. “Why do you keep playing their game?"

  Rose had never been asked such things. No one had ever cared. Funny it should be Lionel, a ghost, who would be the first person in her life to show her any compassion. His attention made her feel special, wanted. After a lifetime of being used by others, it was refreshing to have someone take an interest without having a hidden agenda. His tenderness made her want to be honest with him and, for the first time, honest with herself.

  "When he died, he left me with a large gambling debt. Although meager, I do collect a fee for ridding the houses of ghosts."

  "You do it for money, then,” he said.

  "In part.” She hugged her arms around her middle. “I also do it because I'm lonely."

  "There are other ways to find companionship."

  She turned her head and looked up into his curious expression. “The dowagers and I have nothing in common, and no one would ever marry a woman with such a large debt.” Sadness sank into her chest. “And I refuse to whore myself out to ease the loneliness inside me."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's not proper."

  "Proper.” The warm glow faded from around his body as he walked over to the couch, then leaned against the edge. “The woman who is shunned by society still insists on being proper. How interesting."

  She shook her head. “It doesn't matter. I'm here to do a job, and that job is breaking the curse on this house so that both you and Jonathan can leave."

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “The curse, of course.” He studied her for a moment. “My dear, in order to break the spell, you must be able to touch us, and we you. I'm afraid that's quite impossible—"

  "Is it?” She turned her body and faced him. “Touch me."

  "What?"

  "You heard me. Touch me."

  He hesitated, then reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek. The touch was light, but its effect was immediate.

  Liquid heat shot through her center and caused desire to fan out over her skin. She became hyperaware of how close their bodies stood together, how his amber eyes darkened with something primal and hungry.

  "Amazing,” he whispered. The word rippled through the air between them, brushing over her ears like a caress. His eyes widened. “I can touch you."

  "That doesn't mean much. I can touch you too."

  "No, you're wrong.” He lowered his hand and seemed to recover. “We are apparitions. No human should be able to touch us, nor should we be able to feel anything in the real world. Some objects in this house can exist in both reality and the spirit world, but it has been a long time since we have seen a living thing be able to transverse both. It would take quite a bit of power to perform such a feat.” He took a step back and let his gaze slide over her body. Desire sparked as she saw the flash of hunger pass over his eyes. “Does Jonathan know about this?"

  "I'm not sure what you mean. I don't have any of this power you speak of, I'm just a woman.” Rose stared at him with curiosity. When she had first entered the room, Lionel appeared real, just like her. Now he seemed more transparent, his image flickering in the warm yellow glow that surrounded his body.

  "He must have figured it out.” He frowned. “It would explain his scent.” He met her gaze once more, his face becoming an expressionless mask. “And did he tell you how to break the spell?"

  Rose felt warmth rise to her cheeks. “We didn't exactly do much talking."

  "No, I can't imagine you would,” he murmured as he turned and strode to the bar. “Would you like a drink?"

  "No, thank you."

  He reached out, and a decanter filled with dark liquid appeared in his hand. He pulled a glass out from behind the bar and poured off some of the liquid. “Of course you do. Seeing ghosts for the first time might be quite a scare."

  Rose noticed that the decanter, liquid, and glass all glowed pale yellow, just like Lionel. He returned the decanter to the bar and handed her the glass. “Here, it will steady your nerves."

  "I don't want it.” She held up her hands.

  "Take it.” He pushed it into her open fingers. The glass immediately solidified, and the glow faded.

  She stared at him. “What did you just do?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about. The items in this house can exist in both the spirit and real worlds. Perhaps...” He shook his head. “Drink."

  Rose stared at the glass, then raised it to her lips. The liquid was warm and sharp. She coughed and lowered the glass.

  "Not used to brandy, I see."

  "No.” She placed the glass on the small side table.

  He moved toward her until there was nothing but a sliver of air between them. “Tell me, did Jonathan do the same?"

  "Pardon?"

  "When you touched him.” He reached out and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. “Did he change, like the glass?"

  She thought back to their time together. “His glow didn't fade, if that's what you mean.” In fact, it became brighter. As she thought back to the incident, she realized he wasn't the only one who glowed. When she looked down and saw him between her legs, the light had spread over her skin and had started traveling up her waist. It hadn't seemed odd at the time, but now that she was thinking more clearly, she wondered if it was important.

  "What does it mean?” she asked.

  Lionel seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I'm not sure.” He leaned forward and glanced at her mouth. “All I know is that Jonathan and I are stuck in the spirit world. The owner of this house is in the real world, and the objects
placed within these walls can pass from one place to the other. I have never seen another human be able to do the same, however.” He met her gaze. “Until you."

  Tingles of sensation raced over her skin. Lionel's frame was large, and she had to tilt her head back farther than normal to see his face. She felt small and helpless next to so much strength. There was a flicker of fire in his eyes, a hardness in his jaw. Rose sensed he was holding something back. What would it be like to release all that pent-up emotion, to have it all directed at her? She should probably be afraid of such intensity, but she wasn't. In fact, it only increased the longing she felt deep within her core.

  She moistened her lips and flexed her fingers, eager to touch all those hard muscles before her. “Jonathan did change."

  Lionel paused. “Oh?"

  "If anything, he seemed to glow more after we touched, not less. Just like you."

  Lionel held himself immobile as some indefinable emotion flickered over his features. Rose began to squirm.

  "Where is he now, do you suppose?” Rose asked after a few moments.

  "In the house somewhere.” Lionel leaned back and picked up her hand. “Does it matter?"

  He pressed his lips to each of her knuckles. His touch was light, but the effect was staggering. Rose felt light-headed as he slowly worked his lips and tongue around her fingers. His hand wrapped around her wrist, then drifted up her arm, leaving a trail of fire on her skin in its wake. When his fingers reached her elbow, he paused and lifted his head. Uneasiness rippled through her as their gazes met.

  "What is it?” she asked.

  "You.” He tugged on her hand.

  Rose stumbled forward into his chest.

  "You.” He bent down and pressed his lips against hers. While Jonathan was gentle and caring, Lionel was more primal and animalistic. There was something wild about him that spoke to a need deep inside Rose's soul. She had played the part of the good girl her entire life, even marrying the wrong man to appease her parents. Since Lionel was a ghost, he wasn't bound to society like she was. He offered her freedom, acceptance. Rose wanted to grab on with both hands and never let go.

  She closed her eyes and slid her hands along the smooth muscle of his biceps. The kiss had turned exploratory, and he brushed his tongue along the inside of her mouth, coaxing the fire rising deep inside her core. Rose went weak as she lost herself in the onslaught of erotic sensations he was creating inside her body.

  When he finally pulled away, she tried to gather her wits and open her eyes. Their gazes met, and his amber eyes flared gold. Erotic tendrils rose up and wound over her muscles, tightening them with anticipation. She curled her fingers into his arms as he rubbed his thumb over her lips.

  "You're the one. I know it."

  She glanced at his kissable lips and wondered what made him pause. “The what?"

  "You can touch us.” He let go of her face, stepped back, and looked at his hand. “But nothing happened."

  Disappointment filled her as he put even more distance between them. It was difficult to think with so much desire fogging her mind. How could he turn off all that passion so quickly?

  Rose cleared her throat. “What did you say?"

  He flipped over his hand and stared at his palm. “I'm still a ghost."

  "What are you talking about?” Rose fought back the urgency racing through her body and placed the cool mask of propriety over her features. She didn't want him to see how much his attentions had affected her.

  He took her hand and led her over to the back of the couch. “Tell me, how do you feel?"

  She tried to ignore the rough pads of his fingers on her skin and focus on the question. “Energized.” Lionel's kiss had made her feel incredible, more alive than she had ever felt in her entire life. It was as if he and Jonathan could touch her in a place deep inside, a place she hadn't even realized she had. Now that they had found it, she wanted to bring it out to the forefront, explore it.

  This thing they had touched was her true self, she realized. Not what others wanted to see in her, but who she really was. That part of her had been imprisoned by her parents and society for so long she had forgotten what it felt like just to be herself. Rose realized she was freed by the touch of these men, and for that she'd forever be grateful.

  "Good.” He grasped her shoulders and turned her toward the back of the couch. “Stay put."

  "What are you doing?"

  "And don't talk."

  "But tell me—"

  He slid his hands under her arms, stopping her words. A flicker of heat centered between her legs as he slid his hands around her sides and cupped her breasts. She moistened her lips as he gently brushed his fingers over her mounds, her dress the only barrier between them.

  "They're beautiful, you know.” His deep, masculine voice hit that sweet spot inside, creating ripples of want like a stone splashing into a lake. She wanted this, wanted Lionel to strip her down and possess her just like Jonathan did a few short hours ago. Ever since she first stepped into the townhouse, she had felt the tingles of anticipation over her skin, the longing deep inside her body. She knew now that her body was responding to the call of these men, to their plight, their desperation for human contact.

  She reached up and covered his hands with her own. Together they rubbed his palms over her nipples, the friction causing them to harden painfully underneath her dress.

  "So responsive.” He pinched her delicate tips between his fingers. She gasped as pain sparked and blossomed throughout her body. She stiffened, but then he resumed rubbing, caressing. He had made her more sensitive, and now his gentle touch evoked an intense pleasure she didn't feel before.

  His spicy exotic scent drifted up and tickled her nose, surrounding her in masculine heat. Rose closed her eyes and took a step back in his warmth, eager for more. His hard chest pressed against her back, his erection into the soft globes of her backside. Her body softened, molding against his.

  He cradled her in his arms as he eased one hand down her torso and then spread his fingers out over her abdomen. He explored and caressed her stomach, stroking the fire burning deep inside her body. She closed her eyes and let the erotic emotions he created wash over her body, lifting her spirit to a place of pleasure and excitement. Slowly he inched down, each movement filling her with anticipation. She moaned as he dipped lower and rested his hand over her mound. She shivered as he curled his fingers, the warmth from his body feeding her desire and making her underclothes damp. He pulled her closer and pressed his cock deeper against her backside. She raised her arms up, reached behind, and wrapped them around his neck. The act made her arch her back and push her breast deeper into his waiting hand.

  "Please,” she whimpered. He curled his fingers into her skirt and slid his fingers against her opening. Smooth cloth rubbed against her sensitive skin, making her desperate and needy. Her dress was too much of a barrier. She wanted flesh on flesh, hard against soft, and yet his hands held her immobile. He continued to touch and tease, building her hunger until she ached with longing.

  She turned her head and touched her lips to his. He invaded her mouth and ran his tongue over hers. She kissed him back with everything she had, and soon their tongues were locked in the intimate dance of lovers. She blanked her mind to everything but her desire as he started to gather the fabric of her skirt in his lower hand. Slowly he slid her skirt slid up her legs. Cool air brushed over her skin, reminding her how scandalous they were behaving and making her feel wanton.

  He lowered his wicked fingers from her breast and began to gather fabric with them as well. Soon her skirts were bunched up around her waist. He broke away from her mouth and kissed her neck, the soft press of lips awakening every nerve ending in her body.

  Rose tilted her head, granting him better access. She drove her fingers into his hair as he kissed a hot, sensual trail along her neck. She held him close and focused on the way he slid his lips and tongue over her skin, placing soft kisses on her shoulder.

  "Y
ou're glowing,” he whispered as he straightened. Rose didn't miss the awe in his voice.

  "Glowing?” She glanced at her hands and confirmed what he saw. Why was she glowing? She turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. Their gazes met, and she focused on the intense yellow light around his head. It highlighted the flecks of gold in his amber eyes. “You are too."

  Something dark and primal flashed through his eyes, and Rose turned away as a sudden wave of longing swept through her. She tried to process her emotions but couldn't think past the strong ache between her legs. What was happening to them?

  Lionel straightened, then placed his palm in the center of her back. With a gentle but firm push, he lowered her upper torso, bending her at the waist. Rose brought her arms up in front of her as she fell forward, and she braced herself on the back of the couch.

  "Stay,” he murmured as he ran his fingers along her spine.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Don't move.” He raised the gathered skirts up to the center of her back. “Ah, you don't have any of these cumbersome frills of the ton. Good."

  Rose felt the warmth rise to her cheeks as he helped remove her drawers. She wanted to explain that she normally wore such things, but then his fingers brushed over her skin, and rational thought left her. She stood at a right angle, which put her backside on display. What was he going to do? Tension built as he ran his hand over her backside.

  "So pale, almost translucent,” he murmured.

  Rose had always hated her fair skin, but Lionel's words weren't spoken with disdain, but with awe. Her heart melted at the soft ripple of his voice. “You like it?"

  "Very much. I should like to see it become pink sometime.” He slapped her backside. Pain vibrated up her back and fanned out over her skin. It didn't hurt much, but it sensitized her nerve endings. She dug her fingers into the couch as he rubbed the spot he hit, soothing away the pain.

  "But not now. Another time, perhaps.” He stood to the side as he rubbed her globes and studied her face. “I don't think you're quite ready for it yet.” He retreated, leaving her wondering what he thought she was ready for. Excitement bubbled through her, and Rose moistened her lips in anticipation.