Dark Dichotomy

by Aubrey Ross

  “Yes.” Torral stepped up beside her and motioned to the next portrait over. “That’s Evan and Joseph.” With model-perfect features and contrast coloring, the younger twins bore a striking resemblance to their older brothers.

  “Have you ever tried to paint yourself?” She moved toward Ryan’s portrait.

  “There are far more interesting things to paint.” The smoldering heat in his gaze intensified as he looked at her.

  Her body responded with an echo of sensation, melting, swirling—intoxicating. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Family is obviously important to you. Have you ever felt trapped by their expectations?”

  “Not at all. My brothers are very supportive of my ambitions.”

  “Even when they differ from theirs?”

  “Are we still talking about my family? Did your parents expect you to become a doctor or something?”

  “That transparent, am I?” His smile was gentle, so she went on, “My parents are both career Marines. They consider my life frivolous and wasted.”

  “You’re independent and well respected, and more importantly, you’ve found a way to make a living doing something you love. If they can’t see the value in that, it’s their loss.”

  His affirmation pleased her more than she cared to admit.

  “How did you become interested in period architecture?”

  “I spent the summer with my aunt when I was twelve. She’d just bought a turn-of-the-century farmhouse and needed help with the renovation. I was fascinated by the entire process.”

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  “Are you kidding? My mother used to call me her charming inconvenience. Little wonder I spent more and more time with my aunt.”

  “I’m sorry.” He gave her upper arm a gentle squeeze, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Children should be protected and cherished. Anyone who doesn’t see it that way should be sterilized at puberty.”

  His vehemence made her smile and she let the past slip back into the shadows.

  Beyond the portraits rested a group of interior scenes. Set inside a bar or nightclub, the paintings depicted small clusters of people in candid poses. Four men congregated around a pool table. Their pale skin and piercing eyes were a striking contrast to their somber clothing. Menace radiated off the painting, menace and sexuality.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s called the Carousel.”

  Each painting had a distinctly different mood. Kendra was amazed by the emotion he evoked with each brushstroke. “These are wonderful.”

  He pulled one of the scenes forward so she could see the one behind. A beautiful dark-haired woman stood behind the counter of a circular bar. The backdrop for the bar was an elaborate carousel, complete with mythological creatures.

  “This is the owner, Evette.”

  A weight dropped into the pit of Kendra’s stomach. “Is she your…”

  “Cousin, nothing more. She’s happily married and the club is in Virginia. I was showing you the carousel.”

  She sighed, refusing to consider the relief rushing through her system. It didn’t make a difference to her if he had romantic entanglements all over the country. “A carousel is an unusual centerpiece for a nightclub.”

  “It’s an unusual nightclub.” His secretive smile hinted at all he wasn’t saying. He returned the paintings to their original position and motioned her toward the desk in the far corner of the room. All playfulness left his expression as he said, “This is the real reason I brought you up here.”

  She didn’t reply. The sudden change in his demeanor was making her nervous as hell. He rolled the chair back from the desk and indicated that she should sit. After a moment’s hesitation, she took the seat and rolled her legs under the desk.

  A large sketchpad was centered on the desk. He opened it in front of her then stepped back. “I started these sketches three weeks ago.”

  The first page was a collage of images, a shadowed profile, a closeup of a woman’s eyes. Kendra turned the page and sucked in a breath. The second page of sketches was more detailed, revealing more of the woman’s face.

  “Where did you get my picture? I avoid cameras like the plague.” Each page she turned made it more obvious that she was the subject of his drawings. Even the clothing depicted in the sketches was hers.

  “I had no idea who this was until I walked into the salon tonight.”

  That brought her head up. “You’re very talented, but I’m not amused. Were you…following me?” He turned to the next page and Kendra gasped. Her image stood beneath a shower’s spray, arms raised to her sudsy hair. The tile work at her back was identical to her bathroom. “There are no windows in my bathroom. How…” He’d even marked a tiny mole on the underside of her left breast. “Do you have my apartment bugged? Why would you do this?”

  Shoving away from the desk, she shot to her feet and headed for the door.

  “Kendra, wait.” He reached for her arm, but she jerked away. “I haven’t been stalking you.”

  “Then how do you explain those sketches?” She stopped within easy reach of the door handle.

  “I drew the last picture yesterday. Would you please look at it?” He stayed back, his gaze determined yet caressing.

  She had no way of knowing when he’d drawn the pictures, but it seemed farfetched that he’d developed some random obsession with her. “Keep away from me.” Staying well out of his reach, she returned to the desk and flipped the page.

  The last image depicted the back of the lake house. She stood at the window bathed in golden sunlight, her expression serene. “The window looks out over the lake. You couldn’t have… Were you on the far shore?”

  He approached cautiously. “I sketched that yesterday. I’ve known you were coming for almost a month, I just didn’t know how you would enter our lives.”

  “You’re saying you can draw the future?” She shook her head as disbelief rolled through her. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “There is nothing supernatural about my art. I just draw what my visions reveal.”

  “You have visions?” She scoffed then looked at the picture again, trying desperately to explain how he’d done it. “You knew Ryan was going to take me down to the lake house and you saw what I was wearing as we left this house.”

  “I drew that yesterday.”

  “How do I know that?” She licked her lips and pushed back from the desk, restless and uneasy. No one could see into the future. It wasn’t possible. “Just for the sake of argument, let’s say you did predict my arrival. What is the significance of the prediction?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  She stood and moved out from behind the desk. “That’s not an answer. Why did you show me the drawings?”

  “So you would believe in something you can’t explain.”

  “But I did explain it.”

  He chuckled. “It’s easier to believe I developed an irrational obsession with a woman I’d never met than to accept that I see visions of future events?”

  “Perhaps not easier, but more rational. Psychics don’t exist.”

  How about telepaths?

  “Oh my God! How did you do that?”

  His expression sobered and their gazes locked. “I need you to believe in my visions because my visions warned me that you’re in danger.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.” She backed toward the door, refusing to turn her back on the madman in front of her.

  “You have nothing to fear from me. Harming you is the furthest thing from my mind.” His dark gaze caressed and his tone soothed, encouraging her to believe his claims.

  “Then who means me harm? As far as I know, I don’t have enemies.”

  “We do.”

  The simple statement sent chills down her spine. “Your enemies would punish me for doing business with you? That seems a little extreme.”

  He took a step toward her and then another. “What do you feel when
you look at me?”

  Her heartbeat leapt in response to his whispered question. Ryan had asked her what she felt when he touched her. Torral didn’t seem to need touch. He had her aching with just the power of his gaze.

  “I think you’re extremely handsome. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “I look very much like Leos. Did your heart pound when you looked at him?”

  “My heart pounded when I looked at Ryan. It’s not just you.” His smile caught her off guard. She’d hoped to dissuade him with the comment.

  “Ryan is part of me. It’s natural that you find us both attractive.” He caught her wrist and pulled her toward him, pressing her hand to the middle of his chest. “Touch me. Tell me how this makes you feel.”

  She splayed her fingers against the firm contour of his pectoral muscle. His shoulders were broad, but his chest tapered dramatically to lean hips. Heat radiated through his casual shirt and her fingers tingled.

  As if in a trance, she raised her other hand to his chest as well. Anticipation wrapped around her and curled through her. Reality melded with fantasy, accelerating her arousal. She stroked him from neck to waist over and over, while erotic images swirled through her mind. Caressed, surrounded, overwhelmed, she longed to revel in decadent pleasure.

  She squeezed his shoulders and explored his upper arms, hungry for the warmth of his skin. Her hands found the hem of his shirt and slipped beneath. She groaned and tugged the offending material upward, caressing him with her lips.

  His fingers pushed into her hair. “Is your reaction to me unusual?”

  She’d forgotten this was a test, a sort of experiment. “I’ve never felt like this, not even with Ryan.”

  “I’m the dominant twin. My effect on you is bound to be stronger.”

  Easing back without depriving herself of his flesh, she looked into his eyes. “What’s happening to me? Do you feel this too?”

  He guided one of her hands to the apex of his thighs, pressing her palm over the distinct ridge of his erection. “I want you more than life itself.”

  She snatched her hand away, not yet ready to surrender. “I’d suspect you of drugging me, but I didn’t eat or drink anything before I walked out to the lake house with Ryan. Do you exude some sort of pheromone?” Her passion-muddled brain tried to reason through her longings. She enjoyed sex as much as the next person, but she’d never wanted to strip a stranger naked and jump his bones, let the consequences be damned!

  “It’s complicated and you’ll think more clearly if you let me touch you.”

  Before she could unravel his suggestion, he swept her into his arms. His mouth pressed over hers, firm yet patient. Her head spun and the ache in her belly erupted into forceful pulses.

  Lost in a storm of raw lust, she clung to him, returning his kiss with shocking boldness. She’d never been sexually aggressive before, but she couldn’t restrain herself. Her tongue played with his, her breath coming fast and shallow.

  He pressed her against his chest, his hands stroking from her shoulders to her butt. Her legs parted, straddling one of his thighs. Sensation burst within her pussy as she rocked against his leg. “Oh…” she moaned, unable to halt the restless rhythm. “Oh God!”

  “Easy,” he whispered against her parted lips. “I’ve got you.”

  His fingers found the hem of her skirt and tugged the material up along her legs. She felt boneless, weightless, yet utterly focused on his touch. Tugging her stockings down onto her thighs, he found the opening of her panties and eased his hand inside.

  She went still in his arms, needing release more than she needed breath. Her hands clasped his upper arms as his touch grew bolder.

  He stroked the damp curls between her thighs. “So hot.” His middle finger sank between her folds with a gentle sawing motion.

  Trembling uncontrollably, she feared her knees would buckle. His eyes stared into hers, endlessly black and consuming.

  “Don’t fight it, love.” He circled her clit, driving her quickly toward release.

  Her inner muscles contracted in a staggering orgasm. She threw back her head and clenched her jaw to hold in a scream. Pleasure burst then flowed outward, leaving her limp and tingling in his embrace.

  For a long moment he just held her, his hand cupping her sex. She didn’t miss the possessiveness in the touch or in his eyes. “What have you done to me? I’m not like this. I never… This isn’t me.” She tugged his hand away from her creamy slit and frantically righted her clothing.

  Torral felt bereft as soon as his fingers left her silken flesh. Unable to resist the temptation, he raised his hand to his mouth and licked her cream from his skin. Her taste was faint and only served to whet his appetite for more.

  “You never what? Surely that wasn’t your first orgasm.”

  “Well, no, but I generally develop a relationship with a man before orgasms enter the equation.”

  He blew out a frustrated sigh and cupped the side of her face. “If we’d met under different circumstances, I would have given you all the time you needed or at least all the time your body would allow.”

  “That’s what I don’t understand. Why are we so…turned on?”

  “I could explain, but I don’t think you’re ready to accept the truth.”

  Her gaze narrowed and she smoothed down her skirt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “The truth is harder to believe than the existence of psychics or telepaths.”

  “Let me guess,” she drawled. “You’re an alien?”

  He traced her lips with his thumb. “That’s widely debated among my people. Some believe our origin is extraterrestrial, others think we’re a genetic offshoot of the human race.”

  She twisted out of his embrace and raked her hair back from her face. “An offshoot? As in you’re no longer human?”

  “I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Tell Ruth I won’t be staying for dinner. I’ve had enough of Burton hospitality.”

  He made it to the door a step ahead of her and leaned against the closed panel. “If I let you leave, the urgency will become unbearable long before you reach San Francisco.”

  “Move out of my way.” Her voice was calm and assertive, but her eyes were glassy, the pupils dilated.

  “I’ll make you a deal. Agree to stay the night and I won’t touch you unless you instigate the interaction. If you make it until morning without asking for more, Ryan will escort you home.”

  “I don’t need an escort and I’m leaving right now.”

  “There is someone out there, waiting for you to leave, hoping you’ll be foolish enough to set off on your own. I can’t let that happen.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. You have my word.”

  She stared at him, clearly torn. “Do you know who’s trying to hurt me?”

  “No. I only know he wants to destroy my family and he’ll use anyone who crosses his path.”

  “Why me? What would he gain by harming me?”

  He bit back the words, knowing the truth would only frighten her. “Why would I lie about this? I have nothing to gain by deceiving you.”

  “You want to sleep with me.”

  “What I want has nothing to do with sleep, but I’m more concerned about your safety.”

  “People know where I am. If anything happens to me—”

  “Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”

  She looked out the window for a long moment then said, “I want my own bedroom.”

  Chapter Five

  Torral paced his bedroom floor, fists clenched at his sides, heart pounding. Kendra was on the other side of that wall, languishing in a bubble bath. He heard the mechanical rumble of the jets and forced himself to breathe. He couldn’t touch her. He’d given his word. Even so, this was going to kill him.

  Sweat dotted his upper lip and the tension cramped his abdomen. Was she aching like this? Was she using fear to fight back the hung
er?

  He found himself in front of the bathroom door. She’d demanded her own bedroom, but he’d never agreed to that condition.

  Without warning, he opened the door and strode into the misty bathroom. She gasped and ducked chin-deep into the water. “What are you doing here? You promised to leave me alone!”

  “No. I promised not to touch you until you admit that you want nothing more.” He tore his shirt off over his head and bent to remove his shoes. “Are you enjoying your bath? Is it relaxing?”

  Her lips pursed and her nostrils flared as she glared back at him. “How much worse will this get?”

  “I don’t know. How miserable are you now?”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts and fidgeted against the tub’s sloping back. “I can’t make it stop. Ignoring it is impossible and anything I do ultimately rebounds.”

  “Say the word. Free me from my promise.”

  “Explain what I’m feeling first. Tell me everything.”

  He sighed and dragged his gaze away from her rosy face. “You won’t believe me until you’ve seen me change.”

  “Change into what?”

  Kneeling beside the tub, he trailed his fingers in the swirling water and looked into her eyes. “We’re not twins. We’re different sides of the same being. Our race is called the Dichotomy. My physical form exists at night and Ryan materializes during the day.”

  Suspicion widened her eyes. “Where is Ryan right now?”

  “At dusk he releases his hold on his physical form and I absorb his energy. The reverse happens at dawn.”

  She was silent for a long time, her expression tense and speculative. “Are your brothers twins?”

  “No. Daniel is Leos’s day-dwelling half and Joseph is the other side of Evan. Technically, there are only three of us.”

  After another pause, she asked, “What does this have to do with our attraction?”