by Denise Agnew
With a dry tone he said, “Of a sort. But then so are you.”
She sighed. Nothing like being obtuse, the bastard.
His hot breath tickled her ear and he pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. His expression went harder, cooler. “I saw that redheaded man come to your door earlier.”
He almost sounded jealous. She frowned in disbelief. “You’ve been spying on me?”
“Watching out for you. I don’t trust that biped.”
“Biped?”
“He’s not to be trusted. Stay clear of him.”
She wanted to kick him in the nuts for his presumptuous manner. “Why you—this is ridiculous. I know Jim and he wouldn’t hurt me. I don’t know you from Adam.”
His eyes danced with returning amusement. “Of course you know me. And you’re going to get to know me a lot better.” Before she could make another indignant comment, he said, “I entered your room to make sure you were all right.”
“What were you doing?” She almost barked the question. “Listening at my door?”
“I have very good hearing.”
She could see from the gleam in his eyes that he wouldn’t give a better explanation. “It was just a bad dream.”
“I saw it. You dreamed of a dark tunnel.”
“What?” Shock made her pause. “How could you?”
“A secret for now. I’ll tell you later.”
His partial revelation compounded her belief that Ronan Kieran wasn’t your average, run-of-the-mill man. Frustration made her cheeky. “Tell me now, or I will scream.”
“No, you won’t.” His lips caressed the side of her jaw. “Or I shall do more than just this and give you a reason to scream?”
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t. But there are other screams.”
Another flush filled her face, and she tried to remember the last time she’d felt this out of control and excited. “Such as?”
His smoldering gaze coasted over her body in caressing assessment. “I could make love to you until you quaked in ecstasy.”
Wild thrills darted into her belly and moisture trickled between her thighs. “Oh God.”
“You feel it, don’t you? It is relentless between us.”
She shook her head, and his lips stopped torturing her jaw. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me and here you’re restraining me and kissing me against my will.”
“I would never take a woman against her will. But I could make your will mine.” His eyes went lambent. “I know you want me. I can feel it in the way you move, the way your pupils dilate, your skin heats, the scent of your arousal.”
Shaken by his blatant description, she couldn’t say a word. She shuddered against his big body, the heat and power tantalizing beyond reason. Apprehension and disbelief threatened to overwhelm her senses. She closed her eyes to avoid his intense gaze.
With this man, though, it didn’t seem to matter.
“Your feelings are open to me now with us so close together,” he said. “Sure, and I can understand your worry. You think I can read your mind all the time, don’t you?”
She kept her eyes closed. “What’s to stop you?”
A long pause almost made her open her eyes again, but she resisted. Maybe if she didn’t look into his strange, exciting gaze he couldn’t read her thoughts.
“I can read your mind when I wish, closed eyes or no.” His accent purred across her senses, seducing. “Most of the time I choose not to. Sometimes your mind is shouting it and I can’t help it.”
Indignant, she opened her eyes. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?”
“It is sometimes.”
Perturbed, she tried looking tough. Her actions drew another one of those scarcely there grins to his lips that disappeared like fog in a wind seconds later.
Ronan’s gaze left her face and moved with hungry attention down to her breasts and lower to her hips. When his attention found the area between her legs, a tingle built and grew. An ache pulsed, pulled and tugged at her loins. Her vagina throbbed and widened as if to prepare for a deep thrust.
“No,” she said to her traitorous imagination. I’ve lost my mind. I can’t feel this way.
When she gazed into the shimmering, continual fire in his eyes, Clarissa knew an intoxicating awakening that grew more intimate by the minute. Fighting against it didn’t seem to make a difference. Desperate, she pushed against his shoulders. He didn’t budge, his solidity like rock.
“Do you think desire and sex are impure?” he asked out of the blue.
“Of course not. But I don’t jump in bed with men I’ve just met.”
“Except, perhaps, me.”
Righteous anger threatened to override lust. She stuttered. “You—I can’t believe you.”
“Believe me. I’m real.”
She almost screamed. Almost. Until she saw the expression in his eyes.
His gaze devoured her breasts. Her chest heaved up and down with her quick breathing, and when he palmed her stomach she stiffened.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Fire curled in her loins as his big hand moved with the slightest caress over her bellybutton. Soothing, the motion also aroused. Her nipples tightened in response. An ache started in her core, her body longing to grip and hold a man’s cock. Her fingers gripped his shoulders tighter.
His touch slipped down, dipping under her waistband. For one frightening, yet thrilling second, she thought he might unbutton and unzip her jeans. And to her horror, she wanted his touch between her thighs, over her breasts. Anywhere she could imagine he would claim and give.
An image expanded in her mind, and she groaned as she arched her back and her eyes closed with delight. This wild, reckless man slid between her thighs, naked and willing. His cock probed at her wet folds, tantalizing her as she arched her hips. Oh, yes. Oh. Her lips parted as her breathing increased and her chest rose and fell.
Oh God, yes. She wanted desperately to feel his cock inside her, to know the mystery he provoked.
Clarissa’s eyes snapped open, her body trembling.
Blazing with seductive light, his eyes drew her into a world containing only them. He licked his lips. “I see what you see, Clarissa. Is this what you want? Do you ache as I ache? I want to know what your wetness feels like tightening around my cock. I want to know what it feels like to slide in and out of you slowly, then fast until you scream in ecstasy.”
Although some of the glowing yellow temperature subsided from his striking eyes, his gaze held a lambent, sensual haze that made her want to writhe in pleasure rather than fear, but she couldn’t relinquish power to this stranger. Had she gone insane? What if he was the serial killer?
When she squirmed with panic, his lips touched her brow with tender deference. “Hush. Easy. Easy. I’m not a serial killer.”
“How do I know that?” Her voice trembled. “Only a crazy man invades a woman’s room and forces himself on her like this.”
“Well, in truth I’ve been called a crazy man before.” When she continued to struggle, he said softly, “Calm down. What do you feel in your heart?”
In her heart she sensed heady sexual turbulence, a raging need almost out of control, but never with the intent to injure or humiliate.
“That’s it.” His voice dipped even lower, a balm on her tender nerves. “Stop and listen to me. You honestly believe I would’ve saved you last night if I wanted to rape and murder you?”
It didn’t make much sense, but neither did his actions now. “What do you expect me to believe? You turn up at my bedside, you kiss my…my jaw. You lay on top of me. You start fondling me. I don’t even know you.”
An arrogant, sultry smile covered his lips. “You will know me. Very well. In your dreams, in your fantasies we are intimate. As I read your mind earlier, I saw your vision of me between your legs, ready to thrust inside you.”
His words burned her, heating her to overwhelming need. Clarissa’s breathing quickened as his words tu
rned her on.
“Is it of things to come, sweet Clarissa? Do you see the future? For it is surely not the past.” The mysterious man removed his touch from her stomach, sliding his fingers under her sweater to rest between her breasts. “Your heart is pounding but not from fear.”
Damn his black Irish heart.
She rarely used crass language in anger, but the words erupted in desperation. She pushed against his shoulders again. “Fuck you.”
He laughed, throwing back his head. Rich and deep, his mirth served to excite her so much she couldn’t help the restless little squirm she made with her hips.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Make no mistake. I do want to fuck you.”
She blushed like a schoolgirl and hated it. “How dare you?” Enraged by his overblown ego, her anger overran previous trepidation. “You bastard.”
To her surprise, regret and maybe even shame touched his gorgeous face for one moment. Then it disappeared like a light bulb extinguishing. He moved off her and stood near the side of the bed. As she levered into sitting position, she tugged her sweater over her belly.
“I’ve frightened you.”
“I’ll say.” She sat on the edge of the bed and jammed her feet into her boots. She laced them in a hurry. She wouldn’t get caught barefooted if she had to make a quick escape. As she glanced at the digital bedside clock, she groaned. “It’s almost nine o’clock in the morning.”
“To be sure my timing is off, but this can’t wait.” He reached in his pants pocket and withdrew a piece of paper and handed it to her. “Erin Greenway’s number. You can call there anytime today.”
Silence hovered like a shroud, dark and somehow filled with apprehension.
“And?” she asked.
He cocked one dark eyebrow. “They want to see you. Would you have dinner with me—with them—tonight? We’ll meet at Erin Greenway’s home.”
The ire simmering in her blood cooled. “All right. I’m busy today until about six.”
“What are you doing?”
Ronan’s nosiness astonished her, but it shouldn’t have considering his earlier behavior. “Again, that’s not your business.”
His eyes brightened, the fiery yellow tempered by warm brown. For the first time she realized his long leather jacket lay on a chair by the desk. A blood red sweater enhanced the burnished red highlights running through his chocolate hair. Black wool gabardine pants fit him as if specially tailored. All his clothes looked Italian designer, expensive and right for his powerful body. In the graveyard he’d looked dangerous and incredible, but casual. Now his attire screamed confidence. He didn’t wear any jewelry, and for some reason she liked that. Maybe because the last man she’d dated had been obsession with gold necklaces and earnings she didn’t appreciate.
She tried to remember, despite her annoyance with him, if she’d ever seen a more striking male specimen in her life.
No.
As she perused Ronan his gaze stirred hotter and appreciative. While she’d been looking him over, he’d done the same with her. He licked his lower lip and the sensual gesture jolted like electricity in her belly. Desire sparkled, refusing to react to her displeasure and concentrating in her loins.
Oh, man. If he could read her thoughts right now—
He took a step forward, and the movement startled her. She stood up, ready to run.
Instead Clarissa found she couldn’t move. Ronan’s potent gaze pinned her to the spot.
What’s happening?
He whispered in her mind. We are happening.
She shivered. “No. You aren’t in my mind. I must be losing it.”
As a comforting glow surrounded her body like a blanket, he said out loud, “Please don’t be afraid.”
“What are you? Who are you really?”
“You’ve asked me that before.”
“And you didn’t answer.”
In the blink of an eye he seemed to move several feet. He stood right in front of her with almost no inches to spare.
He reached out and she flinched. Instead of retreating he brushed his fingers over her cheek. “You feel it, I feel it. There is something between us.”
Clarissa swallowed hard. “Huh. If that isn’t the biggest line I’ve ever heard.”
“Line?”
“You know what I’m talking about. A come on.”
He grinned and the overwhelming sensuality in his face made her heartbeat pick up the pace. “It is, isn’t it? I’ll give you full disclosure down to the last desire. Emotional and physical reactions, thoughts, needs, desires. Would that ease your fears?”
All suitable retorts flew out the window. She didn’t have much experience with men revealing their inner thoughts to her, especially not on short acquaintance, but maybe if she knew more about this mysterious Irishman she could decipher his game.
“Right now? I have somewhere to be,” she said.
He gave a slight bow at the waist, an old-world gesture she found charming. “My apologies, Clarissa. I’m not always at my best during the day. I’m a night owl.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
He laughed, the sound brushing over her erogenous zones like a lover’s caress. For an unfathomable few seconds she sank into the odd but pleasant sensation. She shivered with a finely drawn ecstasy she could only describe as a peak experience. In one moment she felt cherished, protected, and loved.
How ridiculous. I don’t even know him and I’m weaving these elaborate feelings and fantasies. Insanity.
A secretive smile touched his lips, then disappeared so fast she couldn’t be certain she even saw it. “Whatever happens between us will be natural. Nothing malignant.”
“The only thing that’s going to happen between us is you explaining what this is all about. This mind reading thing, how you got into my room and so forth. You’ll cough up answers or I’m kicking you out right now.” She rustled up courage. “I will call the police.”
Ronan took a step closer. Despite her independence and ability to take care of herself, something about him made her feel feminine and delicate. Standing so near, his presence drew her closer and closer. She inhaled deeply as her heart pounded. As she breathed in his tantalizing scent, a strange dizziness overtook her, and she let out a little gasp. A vision clouded her sight, and as her knees weakened she felt his arms go around her waist in support.
“Clarissa.” His voice went husky with worry. “Clarissa what is it?”
His voice faded as she slipped into a dream world where she could see Ronan dressed in colonial garb like that worn by men during the American Revolution. As they marched into battle against the Redcoats, another man walked alongside him, a skinny fellow with a narrow face and small frame. She could smell sweat and urine, the vile stench of human fear as men walked towards certain death. Shivering, she suffered a deep, sorrowful ache for those who wouldn’t survive. Seconds later Clarissa realized she resided in Ronan’s body and saw what he saw, felt what he felt. His heart didn’t pound with fear, nor did he flinch at danger. He knew what he would do and how he would do it. He understood the thin man beside him would back him up.
She hardly registered Ronan’s rough Irish accent coaxing her from the vision. “Clarissa. Wake up. Wake now, darlin’.”
Her eyes snapped open. He sat on the bed with her cradled her in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder. The whole episode shook her to the core. Struggling out of his grip, she immediately stood and looked down at him. Her breath sluiced in and out of her lungs and her heart continued to pound. Everything, including her attraction to Ronan, moved way too fast for comfort.
He frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. I just…you may think it’s insane, but I have visions sometimes about people or places. It’s nothing to worry about.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did you see?”
“The American Revolution. You were there, and I could see through your eyes part of the time. There was a skinny man next to you.�
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When he remained sitting on the bed, looking at her like she might have grown a second head, she burned with embarrassment. On the other hand, if he believed her to be a couple chess pieces short of a set, maybe he’d leave her alone.
He stood and it brought him too near again. “Sorley. He’s a friend in this life.”
“So you believe in reincarnation.”
“I do.” He shifted, his gaze penetrating and asking her things she didn’t think she wished to answer. “We’ll have to take more time to talk about reincarnation.” Again his attention caressed her, his eyes warm and filled with definite male interest. “After we’ve taken the edge off what is happening between us.”
She jerked from the sensual haze threatening to overwhelm her common sense. “Nothing is happening and nothing will happen between us. Like I said, I can call the police if you don’t leave.”
He shrugged one shoulder insolently. “If you called the police it wouldn’t matter. I’d disappear and they wouldn’t find me no matter how hard they’d try.”
A new worry formed inside her. “You make a habit of running from the police?”
“No.”
“Are you a criminal?”
His irreverent grin made her angrier. “If I was, would I tell you?”
She sniffed. “Considering your impudence, yes, I think you’d admit it.”
“All right, here’s the truth. I’m not a criminal nor at any time in my life have I been a criminal.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
“You can ask Lachlan Tavish and Erin Greenway. Call them before we have dinner tonight.”
Her fears eased, though the danger she sensed circling him didn’t relieve her trepidation one hundred percent. “You’re assuming I’m having dinner with them.”
“Of course.”
Flabbergasted by his arrogance, yet more and more curious, she sighed. “Right. If I was some mysterious woman who entered your room at night without knocking first, would you trust me?”
“Depends on her proposal. It’s been awhile since a mysterious woman has been in my bedroom. Once you’ve talked with Erin and Lachlan, you’ll trust me. Now is not the time for elaborate explanation, Clarissa. Tonight I’ll explain some of it.” His fingers slipped over her cheek again, the touch so light and caressing. “Then you’ll understand.”
