by Bekki Lynn
“You keep telling me this, but it doesn’t sound right.”
“Some things need experienced in order to reject it.” He laid fingers against her lips when she started to ask, reject what and why. “You’re cold. Come in to warm up.”
Inside the room, she watched him pull the door shut. “I’m going to change.” Maybe run for my life.
“Cassandra.” She turned around, expecting him to tell her not to run.
“You like vegetarian pizza?”
She stared at him as a lump began to form in her throat. Oh, god! He did have the same dream. “Yes.” Cassandra watched him, knowing there was much he had to tell her. Things his heritage led him to accept, to seek help from someone he trusted. She needed to know it all. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she resigned.
He nodded as if he never doubted she’d stay and see it through. She went to change, hoping she came out of this in one piece.
Chapter 6
Damn old man, Elan thought, staring after her. He had no right to involve her. Her grandfather had no right. Their scheme was ludicrous. He pulled the white screen down concealing the door, grabbed the camera and crossed the room. Using her to free them was the only way though he hated it. He retrieved the film from the camera, curling his fingers around it. He flipped the light off as he left the room.
Not everyone was open or understanding of the unknown, but Cassandra seemed to be more than most. However, if the shaman was correct, morning brings the end of the visions, end of the matchmaking attempt of their grandfather’s.
At the end of the hall, he went downstairs to the kitchenette. Beyond it, there were other rooms: his office, the dark room and the one he’d shut from his mind until now. It’d been the center of visions, as his bedroom had. Yet, while they must do the photos there, they were not having sex there. His home was the place to end it.
The pizza’s aroma drifted from the oven, causing his stomach to rumble. He set the camera along with the film on the small table before turning the heat off and pulling the box from the oven. Opening the little refrigerator, he reached for the bottle of water, and then changed his mind. They might as well finish off the champagne. It would relax them both. He didn’t like the jitters squirming through him.
Elan sat down, listening for Cassandra on the stairs. There were no sounds. The urge to leave was strong. It’d been in her eyes. He had to trust her need to want her life back.
With a flick of his finger, he awakened the laptop. Once he’d connected the camera via the USB cable, he proceeded to upload the photos from the digital camera. While the transfer started, he bit into a slice of pizza. Adrenalin raced through him as he viewed the thumbnails. He hadn’t been wrong in what he thought he’d seen.
When the transfer was done, he wiped his fingers and disconnected the camera, setting it aside. He set the photographs to show via a slideshow and watched as they faded one into another. Her eyes held a fiery passion laced with uncertainty. He’d shoved his physical reaction to her wholesome innocence while he photographed her, but now he didn’t try. There was no since in denying she had an aura about her that oozed sexual energy. It poured from her when he’d stood in her grandfather’s office and saw her concentrating on the gem, squirming in the chair. He took another bite of the pizza.
While he kept in mind the mystical connection entwined them the moment she passed the gems to him, he wanted to experience her in reality. However, he must use caution, not let the communion of their bodies overcome them. They must keep the outcome at the forefront of all they do from this moment and until they part when morning comes.
Absentmindedly, he pushed his empty plate aside. He couldn’t pull himself from the show. The camera made love to her, revealing her soul. Cassandra’s eyes were like ocean waters as he watched them from one photo to another. They drew him like dangerous waves pounding the rocks beneath the cliff. What else was behind those eyes? He knew a fiery passion awaited him, but what more. The urge to rush back to develop the film almost won out. He wanted to see what other secrets were revealed. He shouldn’t want to know, but he sensed she was intriguing on multiple levels. Too bad this was a one-night finale, but a woman didn’t have a place in his life.
He shook his head. Like someone said, once burned…and he’d definitely been burned to a crisp. Tuned back to the stairs there were still no sounds of footsteps. Elan hoped she hadn’t left. He’d hate to have to hunt her down to free himself. He took a long drink of the champagne and set the empty glass down.
A hot current shot down his spine. He relaxed and turned to look toward the stairs. Cassandra stood watching him from the third step up. She hadn’t dressed, not in her clothes. He’d instructed a bathrobe be put in the dressing room. A test, a choice he guessed. She had the choice to dress and go, or not dress and join him. “I hoped you hadn’t left.”
“Sensibility said to, but I couldn’t. I want to know what you know.”
He saw brave fear in her stance. She needed bravery to help free them. Motioning for her to sit at the table, he told her, “We will talk. Tomorrow, before we part.”
She sat in the other chair with her hands in her lap and he turned the laptop to face her. “Elan, I can’t…” She stopped when she saw herself, watched with widened eyes, and parted lips. Lips, he recalled tasted like fresh honey and responded to his with interest and hunger. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered.
Good. She saw what he did—a woman who wanted a man, him. He moved to stand behind her when her eyes glistened. If he lost her now, they’d both be damned. “Camera’s see what we don’t want revealed. Often truth of untruth.” She wanted the man in visions. He wanted free of them. His hands rested on her shoulders. She trembled. Gliding his fingers into her hair, he began to take it down. The soft and silky texture beneath the spray set his pulse on rapid overdrive. While his fingers sifted to remove the surface stiffness, his groin jolted. No doubt his body was going to enjoy hers. Enjoy, but not love. He must be aware of what’s at stake.
Cassandra relaxed back into the chair. Her head rested against him. The contact added to the rising ache. He pulled away. “Drink, eat, I’ll be back for you,” he said as he left her there.
He had to get away from her. She threatened his composure. He was not taking her in the studio. Compromising his business wasn’t part of it, he reaffirmed. He went down the hall to the Boudoir room.
As soon as he hit the threshold of the room, he flipped the light switch, but didn’t enter. Something was different. The air was thick, charged. As if it knew the significance of its use.
He stepped in knowing what he must do. The room was set up for a shoot scheduled tomorrow, but the red satin on the bed wasn’t the color for Cassandra. He stripped the bed opting to go with the champagne set.
Stray thoughts ran through his mind. Flashes of her in nothing but the gems, a gem in her belly button, a toe ring—she should lay in a bed of them as she rose and fell into him. A growling sound came from him as he groaned and exhaled at the same time. He straightened, shuddering.
He flipped the top sheet over the bed, forcing his mind on the job. Stay steady and focused, he reminded himself. After he changed the pillowcases, he stood back, his heart thudding in his chest. Tightness crept up his spine and settled in his shoulders. Tension from knowing in moments they’d be in the center of the vision. Awareness of this gave him the upper hand. This knowledge was key to warding off the intense need.
Elan turned away to make sure the cameras were ready to go, and pulled a bottle of water from a small refrigerator. Pouring a half glass for Cassandra, he capped the bottle and set it near the tripod. It might help quench a thirst from the heat of the lights, but he was tempted to use the shower in the adjoining bathroom and cool the internal flames before bringing her back. No time, however. He left to get her.
She turned from the sink as if she known he’d come, attesting to the growing connection. The strained uncertainty on her face hit him square in the chest. Did she feel fo
rced into this? Was she frightened of him? The possible answer of yes to both, he didn’t like. Once they entered the room, there was no going back. He knew it deep in his soul.
The robe fell slightly open as she came toward him, revealing the soft, pale flesh of partial breasts. They beckoned to him. He wanted to sink his teeth into them.
“I can do the photos, but the…”
He ran the back of his fingers over the spreading blush of her cheeks. Her skin was supple, perfect. He looked into her eyes. Vulnerability and fear edged the blue circles. He conceded to tell her more.
“Our grandfather’s want us to marry. The gems came to you for them to pass through your hands to mine. The moment you touched them a spiritual rite began.”
Cassandra reached up and touched the necklace. “You’re saying my grandfather is in on this. They’ve put a matchmaking spell on these gems? A love spell? I didn’t think it was possible,” she said with a shaky quietness.
“My people have ways.”
“Why would they do this to us? My grandfather wouldn’t, he couldn’t have.”
The urge to comfort her almost won out, but they didn’t have time for such a deviation. “We must follow the plan of the vision. When morning comes, we separate to end it.”
“In spite of the dreams effect on us, we’re strangers.”
“It’s the only way.” He closed his eyes when she trembled beneath his touch. If she refused, he was lost. They would both be lost. Lifting his lids, he saw her watching him with tears in her eyes. “We fulfill the vision and part, it will end.”
“Elan—”
“We’ve seen we’re good together.” Her breath hitched. “It’s your choice.”
“If I didn’t have some understanding of your people, I wouldn’t still be here. Can’t we go to your grandfather with the gems and plead for our freedom.”
“He’s an old, stubborn man—set in his ways.”
“It’s my sensibilities, self preservation…You’re sure there is no other way?”
“I wish it weren’t.” She took a deep a breath and looked away from him, but he didn’t miss the flash of pain before she hid it. “Cassandra,” he said with a calm quiet.
“I guess we do this, then my grandfather is going to get an ear full,” she said when she looked up at him.
He brushed a tear from her cheek. “As mine has gotten before.” She lifted a brow and he grinned. Her fingers reached out and touched his cheek.
“I find this dimple sexy. I wanted to touch it before when I saw it, but not this way. I don’t know—”
He tipped her chin up and caressed her lips with his. They were sweet, spicy and…She responded with gentle passion. He drew her against him, opening his mouth over hers, and she matched him. She wound a hand around his neck and moved closer to him. He held her away from him. “Let’s get started,” he said, a huskiness filling his voice.
He watched her take deep breaths and fought the need to haul her back against him as he willed his own lungs to calm. “Ok?” he asked. She nodded. He took her hand and led her back to the room, her fingers gripping his.
Cassandra entered ahead of him and stopped, facing the bed. The room stirred, though nothing moved. The air held a potent energy. An electrifying current went through him. He saw her shoulders pull.
“I didn’t expect to feel anything,” she said, turning around. Looking up at him, she tilted her head, giving him a good view of her eyes.
They were glassy, aroused, curious, but not fearful as before. Her eyes were going to be the window of her heart. Caution needed used.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“We both envisioned us here. Yes. Its connection to us is strong.”
She averted her eyes and a frown creased her forehead. The wall drew her and she touched it with her hands. Yes, the portal where he’d seen someone, her, while making heated love to her. Turning to face him, he’d seen she’d gone pale and eyes grew huge. All he could think was, don’t run, see it through.
“Sounds led me down a tunnel made of the peridot. The hollowed out section I said should be checked.” She faced him, still speaking. “Your mouth, your hands were all over me and I felt it as if you were doing it to me in the tunnel.”
“We were here on the bed.”
“I heard knocking, begged for whoever to wait. I needed to…your knocking on the office door pulled me out. Sounds crazy, but it happened.”
He ignored the thumping of his pulse in his neck and told her, “I put the gems away, showered and there we were, on my bed. Potent. They found a way to do what shouldn’t have been done.”
“Why this room? Here?”
The breathless quiver in her voice assured him they needed to move on. She was becoming more aroused though she wanted it all rationalized. He couldn’t. He reached for the sheet he’d left folded on a table and told her, “We won’t bed here. This is my place of business. When it’s time, we go to my home.” Her breasts rose and fell and he heard the small sound of a whimper. Handing her the sheet, he told her, “Knot it at the cleavage.” She took it and ran her tongue over her lips, causing a twitch behind his zipper.
She swallowed and studied him as she reached for the belt on the robe. “Don’t! In there.” Elan hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but his own desire was rising. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Not until he had to.
The click of the bathroom door gave him a moment to refocus. At least it’s what he tried to do. It was difficult when he knew she’d stand bare to the eye for a moment behind the door. He wanted to see her, touch her with his hands and his mouth. He wanted to hover over her and feel her hands on him, hear her sounds of pleasure. He ran his fingers through his hair. Focus, he reminded himself.
He turned off the room light and crossed over to the far side where he flipped a switch, lighting up the area they’d work in first. The wall lit up with a projection of the bed. He checked the lights and camera angle since she was a good six inches shorter of the five foot nine inch homemaker he was shooting tomorrow.
* * * *
Cassandra looked around the teal blue bathroom, amazed at the size. She’d expected a half bath, but this was larger than most full bathrooms. Did he take photos in here? Did naked women stand behind those frosted shower doors while he photographed their silhouettes or the door was open to the camera? Heat flooded her face at the thought of women, strangers, being so bold.
She exhaled and undid the belt of the bathrobe. He was waiting and she needed to get this over with so she could go bask in a bath to cleanse away the wrongness of sleeping with a man she didn’t know, much less love. Ok, so she did have feelings for him, but they stemmed from over stimulation of night-after-night of him ravishing her in some form. She hung the robe on the hook she found on the back of the door.
When the sheet was in place, she reentered the room surprised by the darkness. Elan stood across the room within the lights focused on the wall. She stared at the projection of the bed, finding it odd to see it done. She’d dismissed it in the dreams as funny stuff the subconscious does when it has no real knowledge, but never…Her belly quivered as need swirled through her. She walked across the room toward him, watching him. His back was to her, but she knew his mind was on the photo angles. Despite the position they’d been put in, he valued his professionalism. She had to respect his integrity as much as she had to respect this room was some sort of nexus. Why else had their dreams centered here?
The hair on her arms prickled. Her stomach tightened. Her nerves jumped and the wetness between her thighs seemed to ease down her thighs. Her lungs seemed to breathe in air full of electricity. She stopped a few feet from him, for fear of combusting if she came too close to him. It wasn’t her, him, but the room’s connection to the gem. “Elan,” she croaked.
He turned around and his eyes roamed over her face and then downward. She watched him come closer. The fiery need rushed through her as she remained where she was, intent on him. She hated he was so hard to read and
wished for more time to learn. He knelt before her, tugging at the sheet here and there.
Lowering her eyes, she watched him while he straightened the overlap of the sheet to his perfection. When she saw his eyes blink and his chest rise and hold before it fell again, she held her breath. Could he smell her arousal? The thought of him being close enough for his senses to notice had flames rising up her neck and into her face.
Before she knew it, the sheet fell to the floor. She froze, and his eyes moved up her body, lingering over the scrape covering her heat, over her breasts, the hard tips wanting his attention. His gaze finally met hers. His throat moved and the look in his eyes sent her heart racing. Pure adulterated desire replaced the dispassionate façade he’d worn. Seconds passed and neither spoke or moved. She wanted him to say the hell with the path they were to follow. To reach out and touch what was his to take. To use his mouth and take her with the same fury he’d done night-after-night.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gruff. He picked up the sheet and wrapped it around her heaving breasts.
Part of her body screamed in frustration. It didn’t matter if he was doing this for greed of freedom, need of ridding himself of erotic nights leaving him hungering for more. She needed him on the most primal level.
The consolation was the way his hands shook as he tied the corner of the sheet and tucked the ends between her breasts.
“There, it should hold,” he said, staring into her eyes.
Her fingers curled into her palms for fear of touching him, tangling her fingers around his hair and not letting go. The wetness increased, running down her inner thighs. She’d never, ever had this with Rick. He never aroused her as this man did in fantasy and now in reality. Her heart lurched at the raw hunger in his eyes.
Elan yanked her against his chest, moving his soft lips over hers with urgent hunger. Their mouths took and gave and she opened at the gentle probing of his tongue. Her middle quaked and she arched into him. She grasped his forearms when she wanted to wind her arms around his neck and sift her fingers through his hair. She wanted to drink him in until she overcame the aftershocks of the orgasm begging for release by his touch.
