by Dee Davis
She let out her breath with a whoosh and laughed at herself. Of course there was nobody in here. This room must be a part of her own, the second room in a suite. If not, the adjoining door would have been locked, wouldn't it? Calmed by the fact, she moved around to the side of the bed.
"If you're going to invade my chamber, why no' join me in the bed?"
Katherine froze. The dark voice was warm, like brandy or whisky. It filled her, caressing her with its smoky resonance. She peered into the shadows, trying to find its source. Faltering, she took a step back, her eyes locking on the dark shape moving within the confines of the bed. Her heart was pounding again.
"Excuse me, I—"
The sound of her voice sent a shiver chasing down Iain's spine. What manner of bewitchment was this? He'd seen her for only a moment, illuminated by the moonlight filtering in from the adjoining room. It had silvered her long hair and caressed the soft curves of her body. But then she had moved, disappearing into the shadows. He'd thought her a figment of his imagination. The last vestiges of a fantasy. But now she stood by his bed. A living, breathing thing. His body tightened, responding to her nearness, to the sound of her voice. He needed to touch her. To assure himself that this wasn't a dream.
Katherine swallowed and took another step backward, but before she could retreat, he was standing in front of her, his strong arms encircling her waist. She sucked in a breath, inhaling the spicy scent of male. With a start, she realized she was pressed against hard muscle and velvet skin. Even as she thought to be afraid, she felt a curious warmth spreading through her body, an aching, tingling feeling. She looked up, trying to see his face. It was shadowed in darkness, but she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, see the white of his teeth as he smiled. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words died as his mouth found hers. He brushed her lips with his and then tugged softly at her lower lip. She tensed, thinking to push him away, but her body rebelled at the thought, and of their own volition, her lips opened to his kiss. It began as a curious exploration, slow and invading, but as their tongues met, sparks ignited and the kiss deepened.
Iain's arms tightened around her. She was so soft. Her hair felt like silk where it brushed against his skin. He had only meant to touch her, to see if she was real. He had wanted to stop her retreat. But the feel of her breasts against his chest had stirred a longing deep within him, a hunger that increased in magnitude as the kiss they shared deepened. His hands, with a will of their own, traced the line of her shoulders and back, reaching down to cup her buttocks and pull her closer against the hardness of his groin. He felt her hands on his face. Then they moved to tangle in his hair.
Katherine pressed even closer to him, a whimper escaping from deep in her throat. She felt the hard muscles of his chest and arms and the harder bulge that pulsed against her thigh. This was crazy. She should be afraid, or incensed, or something. Instead she was on fire. She couldn't get enough of him. Dream lover. The thought ran through her mind even as she pushed it away.
Iain wanted more. Still kissing her, his hand found the soft swelling of her breast. He cupped it gently, feeling it react to his touch. She arched against him. He growled low in his throat and bent to touch her with his tongue. He circled the rosy crest through the fabric of her night shift, feeling the nipple harden into a tiny taut bud. She moaned, trying to push her breast into his mouth. He smiled slightly and greedily began to suck, drawing in more of it. He felt the ache in his groin grow deeper, hot fire singing through his veins. God's blood, he needed her—wanted her. Without moving his mouth, he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
Katherine knew she should move, say something, but the fire inside her was spreading too fast and the bed was so cool and soft. In contrast, he was all hardness and heat. He moved against her, his body touching hers. She ran her hands down his back, massaging, pressing. Her heart slammed in her chest. She felt him kissing the pulse at her throat. Again she wondered what madness had overtaken her. She felt his hand on the inside of her thigh, warm and strong. Where was her nightgown? She struggled to remember.
Suddenly, his fingers found her. All rational thought fled as she rocked with sensation. Never had she felt like this. She moved against his hand. He stroked her slowly. She wanted more, but wasn't sure exactly what it was that she wanted. She felt a long finger slide deep inside her, moving in and out, in and out. His mouth again found her breast. She felt wild as the fire continued to spread and an inner throbbing seemed to overwhelm all her senses.
Iain struggled to hold on to his control, but she was so hot, so wet. He wanted her as he had never wanted a woman before. She was a vision, an angel, his angel. His lips moved back to hers. He kissed her almost savagely. She returned his passion with her mouth and her hands. He felt her quiver deep inside and knew a moment of deep satisfaction when her body contracted around his thrusting fingers.
Katherine's thoughts spun out of control. The world seemed to splinter into color and light. It felt so good. His fingers were magic. He was taking her higher and higher. She strained, wanting more. She shuddered with pleasure and suddenly her body exploded, overwhelming her. He shifted. His hand was gone, replaced by something bigger and stronger. Instinctively, she moved her legs apart, wanting more, wanting him.
Iain tangled his hands in her hair. He felt the heat of her and took a deep breath. He wanted to plunge into her, deep inside her, feel her surround him. She moved her legs, shifting to open for him. With a small cry, she lifted to him. He pushed into her with one strong stroke. He felt resistance and vaguely wondered at the sensation, but his need was great and he had to have her. She felt so tight, surrounding him with her heat. He held still, deep within her, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him. He strained with the effort to hold back. Slowly, he began to move again.
Katherine's eyes were wide, her heart pounding. She felt him moving deep within her. At first, there had been pain, but now... now it was pain edged with a fierce pleasure. She began to rock against him, feeling the motion, striving for a rhythm. He pulled away and she cried out, but just as quickly he was back, deep inside. She felt the sensations building again, stronger this time. She met his thrusts with her open, welcoming body and the fire began to grow again inside her.
Iain felt all control slip away as he climbed higher and higher, taking her with him in a dance older than time. He shattered into a million joyous pieces. He felt her shudders and knew that she, too, had found this magical place. Tightening his arms around her, he held her, even as she held him, safe in the circle of what must surely be love.
*****
Katherine's eyes flickered opened. She stretched, content in the warmth of the bed. Slowly she turned her head to look at the man sleeping next to her. The room was growing lighter with the hint of the coming dawn. She could make out the hard angles and planes of his face. Even in sleep, his strong features held a certain sensuality. His cheeks and chin were dark with the stubble of his beard. His long hair tangled about his shoulders, shining blue-black, soft and satiny. His arm, thrown possessively around her waist, was powerfully muscled. A scar, puckered and red, ran across his upper arm. Long healed, it served as a reminder of what must have been a painful wound. She could feel the strength and warmth of his thigh against her own. His breathing was even. He slept deeply.
She reached out to touch him, her fingers brushing gently across his cheek. He was incredible. Reluctantly, she pulled back and rolled away, untangling herself from his arms. She stood quietly by the bed, watching him sleep. She knew she should be mortified. She had given herself to a stranger. She ought to feel embarrassed or ashamed, but right now all she could feel was the heat of the magic they had created. Still, her logical mind knew that with dawn the magic would end and the beauty of last night would become tainted by reality. Better to leave now, she thought, and let the memory remain intact, a moment outside of time.
With a sigh, she drank in the sight of him, memorizing his powerful features. The
word "warrior" popped into her mind. It was an apt description of the man. Yet she knew that, despite appearances, there was gentleness in his strong hands and in the firm curve of his lips. With a last quick look, she turned to go. Her foot touched the soft silk of her nightgown. She slid it over her head, and resolutely walked to her room. Crawling into bed, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
*****
Iain sat up, staring at the door connecting his chamber with hers. She was gone. He had pretended to sleep, but it had taken all of his willpower to keep from reaching for her as she moved away. Now, he sat in frustration, staring at the closed door. He wanted her still. He felt his body stir and tighten. Remembering the passion of last night, he closed his eyes, savoring the memory. He had been her first.
That was why he had pretended to sleep, allowing her to leave. He had wanted to give her time to adjust to their joining. With a groan, he realized that perhaps he had been wrong. Now was not the time to be apart. Last night had been more than a bedding; it had been a pledge. They belonged to each other as surely as if they were wed. He smiled a little at the turn of his thoughts. He had not considered himself a romantic man. Experience had left him wary and cynical. Suddenly, he knew that he must not lose what he had found last night. He could not let her go.
His mind made up, he rose from the bed and hurried to the connecting door. It swung open on quiet hinges as he strode into the chamber. The light was brighter now, the first pale rays of sunshine washing over the empty bed. He stood there, unable to move. Empty ... it was empty. He quickly scanned the chamber. Where was she? He tried to pull open the door leading from the chamber into the passageway. It held fast. His brain finally registered the fact that the bar on the inside of the door was firmly locked in place. Frustrated and strangely alarmed, he returned to his chamber. Was it a dream then? His heart slammed painfully in his chest and he felt his body tighten in fear. Surely not. It had felt real. No—it was real.
He frantically pulled the bed coverings aside. In the center of the mattress he saw a small brownish stain. Blood—it must be her blood. She had been a maiden. He felt a rush of triumph and an overwhelming sense of tenderness. But the feelings faded as he thought about the bolted door. There was no other way to leave the chamber, and real people didn't disappear into thin air.
With a frustrated gesture, he pushed his hair out of his face. She had to be real. He couldn't begin to believe otherwise. He didn't know where she had gone, but that no longer mattered. He would find her. He had to. In one night, with one act, she had irrevocably become his world. He sat on the bed, running his hands over the mattress, searching for an indentation, traces of her warmth, something that proved she was real.
His hand stopped, closing around something small and cold. He held it up, turning it in the strengthening light. It was a stone of some kind, hanging on a small golden circle. The smoky amber crystal glimmered in a shaft of sunlight. He examined it closely. The workmanship was fine. He flicked the fine gold loop with his finger and was surprised when it opened. He smiled with recognition. An earring. Her earring.
She was real.
*****
The sunlight danced upon the counterpane as it filtered in through the bedroom window. Katherine woke groggily, turning to shut off the incessant buzzing of her travel alarm. She lay for a moment in sleepy silence. She felt stiff and a little sore and for a moment wondered why. Then, with a rush, memory flooded back. The other room. The stranger. No, she thought, hardly a stranger. She had never known anyone more intimately. She was and always would be a part of him. She had given him something she would never, could never, give again.
She marveled at the realization that she wasn't sorry. She should have been, but she wasn't. Even now, safely ensconced in her own room, she had to admit there was a rightness about it that couldn't be denied. It struck her that she was ashamed of her hasty exit from his room. She owed him and herself more than that. She got out of bed, marched resolutely to the connecting door, and before she had time to chicken out, pushed it open and walked into his room. She stopped, confused. It wasn't his room at all. It wasn't even a bedroom. It was a bathroom, and a small one at that. With a frown, she walked back into her bedroom, forcing herself to take a good look at it.
The window was deep, but the glass was plain and it was definitely not set in an arch. Against the adjacent wall, in the corner, there was a battered wingback chair and a rusty radiator. The plastered wall behind them showed no signs of ever having held a fireplace. The bed was tiny, about the same size as an American twin bed. Katherine sank to the floor, her hands absently closing into the nap of the carpet.
Carpet.
Her head whirled. She looked frantically for another door. There were only two. One she recognized immediately as the door to the hallway, as it sported the expected sheet of paper enumerating check-in and checkout times, along with various other hotel policies. The other, the one she had just opened, was small and unadorned. And it was flush to the wall, not set in an archway.
A dream. It had all been a dream. The most wonderful moment of her life was an illusion. Pain seared through her. No. Impossible. It had been so real. She felt bereft, as if someone she loved deeply had died.
She curled on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. No, no, no. She huddled there for what seemed an eternity, until there were no more tears. A dream, all a dream. Her heart still cried no, but her mind, searching for a logical conclusion had already accepted it. There was no other explanation.
Katherine sucked in a ragged breath and wiped angrily at her tears. She was behaving like a fool. There was no sense in crying over a fantasy. She stood up, automatically beginning to braid her heavy hair. She frowned, instinctively recognizing that something felt wrong. She raised both hands to her ears, checking for her earrings. One was missing. With a sigh, she headed to the bed to look for it. As she moved to pull back the covers, her nightgown slid off her shoulder, the silky blue fabric dropping almost to her elbow.
With a mumbled curse, she reached for the recalcitrant gown, then stopped short, sinking down onto the bed, staring down at herself. She sucked in a breath and held it. Stunned, her eyes traced the line of her shoulder to the curve of her bare breast. There, on the soft peak, was a small reddish mark, a mark that surely had been left by a lover.
Check out these books by Dee Davis:
Time Travel:
Time After Time Series:
Everything in its Time
Wild Highland Rose
The Promise
Romantic Suspense:
Last Chance Series:
Endgame
Enigma
Exposure
Escape
Liar’s Game Series:
Eye of the Storm
Chain Reaction
Still of the Night
A-Tac Series:
Dark Deceptions
Dangerous Desires
Desperate Deeds
Daring
Deep Disclosure
Deadly Dance
Double Danger
Dire Distraction
The Random House Books:
After Twilight
Just Breath
Dark of the Night
Midnight Rain
Dancing in the Dark
Paranormal:
Devil May Care Series:
Hell Fire
Hell Fury
Women’s Fiction:
The Matchmaker Chronicles:
A Match Made on Madison
Set Up in SoHo
About Dee Davis
Award winning author Dee Davis worked in association management before turning her hand to writing. Her highly acclaimed first novel, Everything In Its Time, was published in July 2000. Since then, among others, she’s won the Booksellers Best, Golden Leaf, Texas Gold and Prism awards, and been nominated for the National Readers Choice Award, the Holt and two RT Reviewers Choice Awards. To date, she is the author of twenty-two books and five nov
ellas. When not sitting at the computer, Dee spends time exploring Connecticut with her husband and daughter.
Visit Dee at http://www.deedavis.com or catch up with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/deedavisbooks or follow her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/deesdavis
Photo: Marti Corn
