“Do you still have feelings for him?”
“Have you forgiven him?”
“Is he your lover?”
“If he’s not your lover, then he’ll be mine.”
Sweat beaded on Brynn’s forehead and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth while the women turned into snarling, sharp-clawed cats, hissing and spitting at each other. Wildcats. And they were ready to tear Cade to pieces.
She had to warn him! Save him! It was all her fault, and she hadn’t even been sure of his guilt!
Horrified by what she’d done, she leaped from the bed, nearly tripping over the covers that tangled around her legs. Her heart pounded and her head swam as she kicked free of them. She would need her keys to get to Cade before the intruders found him. Quickly she grabbed her key ring from the dresser. When she reached her door, though, she couldn’t open it.
The new lock! She had to follow those complicated steps. Why, oh why, had she installed it? Think, think. How was she supposed to do it? Turn this, press that. Ah, yes, then the numbers. Thank God she remembered the code.
Wasting no time at all, she threw open the door and charged down the hall.
6
THE QUIET BUT INSISTENT beeping of the alarm on his watch roused Cade from the first deep sleep he’d had since he’d left Colorado. It took him a moment to clear his head and realize the alarm had been triggered by the movement sensor he’d planted on Brynn’s door.
She had opened it. And his watch read 1:15 a.m. Was she sleepwalking again? Or had she changed her mind and decided to come to him? A surge of hope rose in him, then crashed head-on into another possibility. Was she opening her bedroom door to let someone in?
Fully alert now and tense beyond bearing, he sat up and listened. No, she’d left her room. Her footsteps thudded down the hall. Where was she going? Was she awake, or lost in some dream? She was headed in this direction. Would she stop at his door?
If not, he’d go after her. It was his duty to go after her. He couldn’t let her wander around at night—even if she was awake.
He made a move to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but keys rattling in his lock stopped him. The knob turned. The door opened. Relief washed through him in hard, cleansing currents. She had come to him.
“Cade.” She spoke in an urgent undertone as she shut the door behind her with both hands. “Oh, Cade!” She then launched herself toward the bed, wild-eyed, her dark hair streaming around her. “They’re coming for you.”
“Who?”
“The cats!”
He caught her as she landed on the bed. “Cats?”
“They’ll find you and tear you to shreds!” She was talking nonsense. She had to be dreaming.
Damn. “No, no. I’m good with cats,” he assured her. Throwing the bedcovers aside, he drew her to him.
“I called them.” She was trembling and cold. Terrified. “I’m sorry, Cade. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay.” He smoothed his hands over her back, pressed her body against his and pulled the covers up to warm her. “You’re just dreaming.”
“I’m not dreaming,” she insisted, surprising him. He hadn’t thought a sleepwalker could carry on a discussion, let alone argue. “They’re here, they’re really here, and they’ll tear you to pieces.”
“And…you called them, huh?”
She pressed her velvety cheek against his bare shoulder. “I shouldn’t have told them about you.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
She drew back and looked at him, her hazel eyes shining with regret, yet somehow not quite focusing on his. “Is it true? Is any of it true, Cade?”
“Nah. None of it.” He pulled her determinedly back into his embrace, wondering what she’d told the cats to make them want to tear him apart. And, more importantly, what made her regret it.
She pulled away, but only long enough to tug her nightgown up over her head and toss it aside. She then slid her arms around him, nestled her naked breasts against his chest and hugged him as if she’d never let him go.
His pulse drummed; his temperature soared. And the craving began. But he just held her. She murmured something incoherent. He felt as if he were eavesdropping through a keyhole, but he listened for anything else she might say.
“You’re my sexual adventure,” she murmured. And a few minutes later, with a restless turn of her head, “Just a carnival ride!”
He frowned. Was she still dreaming about him? Was she considering him in the light of a sexual adventure, a carnival ride?
Nothing wrong with that, he told himself. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to be considered a sexual adventure by a beautiful woman? Still, he found himself unaccountably tense as he listened for more clues to her thoughts. But her breathing soon grew deep, slow and rhythmic.
He would do nothing to wake her. She would sleep in his arms, by God. Just sleep. All night.
And in the morning, when she woke up, they’d have a long, serious talk. And maybe, just maybe, he’d take her on that carnival ride.
SO HER EXPENSIVE NEW LOCK hadn’t worked.
She knew that without even opening her eyes. She recognized Cade’s night scent—a musky mix of soap, mint and man. She recognized the feel of his body curved against her back. Solid. Warm. Silken hair over toned muscle. She recognized the tensile strength in the arms holding her, the morning stubble on the chin resting against her ear and the callused hardness of the man-size palm cupping her breast.
Her bare breast.
Keeping her eyes shut despite the insistent morning light, she allowed herself to savor his physical nearness. How pleasing it was to lie with him. To wake up in his arms. She felt safe and coddled. Languorous, yet sensually charged. The merest tilting of her hips, the slightest arching of her body, the lowest purring in her throat, would pull him from his sleep. Bring tension to his muscles. Quickness to his breath. Purpose and drive to his hands.
Fighting the urge to undulate against his muscled thighs, Brynn forced herself to think beyond the moment, beyond her sensual compulsion to arouse him.
She didn’t have to guess how she’d ended up in bed with Cade. He couldn’t have gone to her bed. The door had been locked. She’d gone to his. She searched her memory, retrieving only vague, dreamlike images and emotions that made little sense. Most vivid was the feeling of impending doom. The need to hurry. Cade was in danger. She had to get to him.
Clearly, she’d succeeded.
Another fleeting memory returned: of tugging her gown over her head, whipping it aside…cuddling skin to skin…basking in the warmth, the safety, the sweet drowsy comfort. Cade. She’d known where she was, all right—exactly where she’d wanted to be. Damn that sleepwalking!
Damn, damn, damn. But since the damage to her pride was already done, and she felt this compulsive physical need with no other man, and the panic of her dream had reminded her that time with Cade was definitely limited…
She allowed her body to move. Just a little. The very slightest of motions. A subtle swish of her hips, like a whisper beneath the sheet. A brush of her buttocks across his pelvis, across his intimate heat. She turned her face and rested it against his jaw. Slid her hand along his hip. His sleek, bare hip.
He was naked. Although she’d known that, felt that, a moan gathered in her throat, a moan she couldn’t quite contain.
She heard the rhythm of his breathing falter. Felt tension steal into his body. His hand tightened on her breast, and his muscles flexed in direct response to her seductive movements. She arched into him. Hardness burgeoned between his thighs, against the sensitive crevice of her backside, and he inhaled sharply.
“Brynn.” The whisper heated her ear. “Are you awake?”
She smiled, ridiculously glad to know he cared. “Pinch me,” she murmured, “just in case I’m dreaming.”
He did exactly that—pinched her lightly, teasingly, on her bottom. He also sucked her earlobe into his mouth, sending tingles down her neck.
He then traced the path of those tingles with a hot, wet swirl of his tongue.
She lost all restraint, allowing herself wanton moves, strokes and groans. He kneaded her breasts and worked his hand between her legs. Her pleasure grew hot and urgent while his erection pulsed to an awesome thickness between her legs.
She wanted him. Wanted him to go deep and hard. Energized by a needful heat, she angled her hips to take him in. His fingertips stilled among the curls between her thighs, on the most sensitive part of her feminine mound, and pressed there—an even, steady pressure—while his arousal pushed up and in, probing for entry. The sharp, stunning sensation created by those two forces took her breath away.
A loud, sudden knock shook the door, rudely startling her. “Cade, are you in there?” The voice was Lexi’s.
Brynn expelled a gasping breath and struggled to make sense of the intrusion. Cade crossed his dark, muscled arm between her breasts to hold her fast against him, like a hostage in a holdup. “Don’t answer,” he breathed into her ear. “We’re not stopping, Brynn.”
But Lexi rapped on the door again. “If you’re in there, Cade, wake up. It’s important.”
They remained absolutely still and stared at the door, dismayed and disbelieving.
“Cade?” yelled Lexi. “I wouldn’t bother you, but Brynn is missing.”
Brynn squeezed her eyes shut and laid her head back against his shoulder. Cade let out a dry laugh that sounded like a curse.
“She didn’t show up for work,” Lexi explained through the wooden panel. “Her bedroom door was left open, and the covers were dragged off her bed. Things were knocked off her dresser. Her purse is still here, and so is her car, but—”
“I’m here, Lex.”
The silence following Brynn’s announcement was rife with astonishment. “Oh,” Lexi finally said, sounding dumbfounded. “Sorry to bother you, then.”
Brynn glanced at the bedside clock. Eight thirty-five! Long past time to start work. “I’ll be right down,” she promised, consumed with guilt, yet incredibly frustrated at having to leave Cade’s bed just now.
“Take your time. No need to rush,” Lexi assured her. “I’ve got everything under control.”
Nevertheless, at the sound of her receding footsteps, Brynn pulled out of her intimate pose with Cade and sat up to reach for her nightgown on the floor beside the bed. A masculine hand clamped around her arm, detaining her.
“Where you going? Lexi said not to rush.”
The strength of Cade’s hand on her arm, the impatience in his expression, the flush of arousal lingering beneath his tan, all revived the sensual heat that had been simmering in Brynn. “But I can’t neglect my duties,” she said, her voice throaty and hesitant. “We can talk later.”
“Let’s talk now.” He pulled her down against the pillows. “As much as I love your company, and as welcome as you are in my bed—anytime—we’ve got to do something about your sleepwalking.”
She caught her lip between her teeth. He had a point.
“It’s dangerous, Brynn. Assuming that my bed is the only one you’ve visited so far, think about what might happen if you did go to someone else’s.”
“I won’t go to anyone else’s.” She felt strangely sure of that.
He laid his hand alongside her face and searched her gaze, as if trying to determine whether the statement was true. Warm emotion pulsed between them—the kind that always left her hungry for his kiss. “I’d like to believe it,” he said with feeling, giving their conversation added meaning. “But you can’t be sure what you’ll do in your sleep. You might even leave the inn.”
“No, I’d never do that.”
“Dangerous people are out there. Didn’t you hear the broadcast about the abductor snatching women from their homes? And he’s just one of the scumbags lurking around. How safe do you think you’d be, wandering outside in your sleep?”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. I’d love to stop sleepwalking. Do you think it’s fun, waking up somewhere other than where you went to bed?”
A teasing light entered his gaze. “You mean, like…here?” His voice had gone husky, and he ran the back of his fingers up her bare arm.
“Okay, maybe it can be fun,” she allowed with a breathless laugh. Goose bumps followed the path of his fingers, making her hotly aware that the two of them were essentially naked beneath the covers…and lying flush against each other. Not the easiest way to carry on a rational conversation. Trying nonetheless, she said, “But you must know that if I’d been making logical decisions, I wouldn’t be here with you.”
He nodded, as if that fact didn’t bother him in the least. “My point exactly.” A tiny muscle moved in his jaw, though, at odds with his nonchalance.
“So what can I do? Chain myself to the bed?”
“There’s an idea. I could help you make sure you’re bound securely. I’d have to stay there with you, of course, in case of a fire. But I wouldn’t mind. Especially if you’d wear a little leather. And high heels, maybe.”
Using the corner of the sheet, she whipped him across his brawny biceps.
He winced at every slash, though a wicked grin lit his eyes. “I surrender. Take me, punish me, oh mistress of the night.”
“Careful, or you’ll find yourself gagged.”
“And handcuffed?”
“Without a doubt. Now, pay attention.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They didn’t smile at each other—in fact, they frowned as though still in character—but shared the enjoyment of the moment.
Then the tone subtly changed, with the sweep of his gaze across her mouth, and Brynn drew in a much-needed breath and forced her mind to the matter at hand. “Seriously, though,” she managed to say.
“Seriously.”
The sensuality in his stare was too distracting. “I bought the most expensive lock on the market,” she said, determined to get them back on track, “and had it installed on my bedroom door. I thought it would prevent me from leaving the room.” She lifted her hand in a helpless gesture. “I must have opened it in my sleep.”
He contemplated that in silence for a moment. “So, what you’re saying is, not even the most sophisticated lock on the market could stop you from coming to me.”
She let out an exasperated huff. “Oh, puh-leeze.”
“Only stating the facts, ma’am. Just the facts.”
Her lips shifted to the side in wry objection.
“Don’t distract me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across her chin, “by doing things with your mouth.”
Erotic warmth flushed through her. Holding on to her determination by a thread, she said, “Maybe I can get a dog. He could wake me up if I got out of bed. Oh, but if he barked, he’d disturb the guests.”
“And how would you train him to know when you’re dreaming? You argued with me in your sleep. I know damn well you’d order him to sit or stay, and you’d go on your merry way.”
“I argued with you in my sleep?”
“You swore you weren’t dreaming. I tried to tell you, but, as usual, you wouldn’t listen. You were just too stubborn to acknowledge my superior wisdom.”
“You’re making that up.”
“The argument, or my superior wisdom?”
“Both.”
He shrugged. He clearly enjoyed having inside information to lord over her. “The point is, a dog would be bound to get confused, not knowing when to obey you or when to drag you back to bed. Could get pretty annoying if you had to leave your room at night for an emergency.” He paused, then added in a sultry tone, “Like an urgent compulsion to come to my bed.”
“Oh, you’re impossible.”
“Not at all. Actually, I’m easy. Give me a try.”
“Be serious.”
“You don’t think I am?”
“This is all your fault, you know. If you would lock your door with the security dead bolt like you’re supposed to, I couldn’t come in.”
“Now why the hell
would I want to lock you out?” He frowned at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“To help me stop sleepwalking.”
“What makes you think you’d just go back to bed?” He shook his head and tightened his arm around her. “No, no. If you’re walking in your sleep, I want you to end up here. Right here. With me.”
His protectiveness—or maybe it was possessiveness—spread warm, feminine gratification through her. But then she realized he’d probably meant it for purely sexual reasons. Which made her warmer in a distinctly different way.
“Think about it, Brynn.” He shifted onto his elbow and rose above her to peer into her face. “There must be a reason you’re coming to my bed.”
She cocked her head to one side and smiled into his now-serious brown eyes. He really was irresistibly gorgeous, with his morning stubble shadowing his jaw, his ebony hair disheveled, his body taut and strong against hers. “You think?”
“Know what I think?” His tone had gone soft and throaty. “I think that deep down, beneath all the reasons you’ve found to keep me at a distance, you want to make love to me.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She recognized the truth when she heard it.
“And I believe,” he softly continued, “that you wanted to make love to me back in our college days, too.”
“Oh, I did,” she agreed, relishing the heat growing between them and the feel of his large, muscled body moving into a more provocative alignment with hers.
“I’m no psychologist, but I think the only way to stop your sleepwalking is to satisfy the unmet need that’s causing it.”
“Unmet need,” she repeated, sliding her leg between his, certain now that she was, indeed, going to kiss him—
A knock rattled the door again, and Lexi called, “I’m so sorry, Brynn, but the pool man is here, wanting to be paid. And Professor Goldman said you ordered tickets for a concert this afternoon. And a sorority girl from next door dropped by and said she’s got to talk to you about her date last night. I think she’s the one whose mother died last year. I told her you were busy, but…”
“I’ll be right down, Lex. Ten minutes, tops.”
Sex and the Sleepwalker Page 8
