Dark Melody (Dark Series - book 12)

by Christine Feehan

  The band swung into a slow, dreamy song, and Dayan reached down and captured her small hand. “I need to dance with you.” He said it like that, starkly, without embellishment, without worrying about his vulnerability. He

  needed

  to touch her, to hold her close in his arms. He

  needed

  to know she was real and not a figment of his imagination.

  Corinne couldn’t have resisted him for any reason. She let him take her over, pulling her with exquisite gentleness to her feet, drawing her into his arms, close to his body. She held the palm of her hand over his strong heart. At once she could feel his heat, feel his solid, muscular frame. Her heart was beating overtime, and she felt strange. In another world. A dream world. Floating. He was taller than she was by quite a bit, yet she fit into him perfectly, as if she were made for him.

  He bent his dark head to hers. “Breathe.” He whispered the word against her skin, and her entire body came alive. Just like that. Every nerve ending. Every cell. His breath was warm and his arms were incredibly strong. He held her almost tenderly. It was a kind of magic, and she knew instinctively he was feeling it too.

  For just one moment she closed her eyes and let herself be carried away. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm as if they had been dancing together for all their lives. As if they were making love. Corinne bit her lip. It was the most intimate thing she had ever done in her life, yet she had been married. He seemed to be everywhere, surrounding her, his body hard and his hands gentle. A curious thing was happening. Her heart, usually so erratic, was struggling to match the more even beat of his. She noticed it because every detail was so important. She wanted to carry this moment with her for the rest of her life.

  The music moved through Dayan so that he became the music. The woman in his arms was already a part of him. He knew it with his deepest soul. She was the one, the only one. He could feel the struggle of her heart just as he felt her small, very feminine body imprinted against his masculine frame. But the situation was even more complex than he’d first realized. She was the only woman for him, yet there was a third heartbeat. He could clearly hear it racing as he held her to him. He could feel the life in her, the small mound beneath the loose clothing she wore.

  He brought her palm under his chin and held her even closer as he examined that discovery. She was carrying a child. Another man’s child. A human child. For a moment his mind was in chaos, a wild mix of jealousy, rage and fear, things he had never experienced. Breathing helped, and he focused on what was most important. If he gave her his blood, he could possibly fix her heart problem, but what would such an exchange do to an unborn infant? He could read her fear and her sadness. He moved with her, his body a hard, urgent ache, his mind a jumble of thoughts, his heart and soul truly at peace for the first time in his existence even while his brain worked on a solution to such a unique problem.

  The song ended, and he reluctantly allowed her to slip out of his arms, retaining possession of her hand so she couldn’t run. “My name is Dayan.”

  Corinne nodded her head, almost afraid to speak. He was leading her back to the safety of the booth. He moved easily through the crowd, keeping her safe beneath his broad shoulder. Dayan gave her the illusion of safety, taking great care that no one bumped her carelessly.

  “Are you going to tell me your name?” He asked it softly, his voice a velvet seduction in itself.

  Just the sound of his voice created a yearning to hear him sing again. “Corinne, Corinne Wentworth.” She didn’t look at him; it hurt, he was so good-looking. And sexy. That dark, dangerous sensuality she wanted no part of. They were close to the booth, to safety. She allowed herself to breathe again.

  “When is your baby due, Corinne?” he asked, his voice a gentle thread of sound. She had never heard a voice quite like his. Hypnotic; mesmerizing. A bedroom voice. It whispered over her skin until she burned.

  His words stopped her short, and she looked quickly, guiltily at Lisa, afraid she might have somehow overheard. For a moment she felt desperate. Lisa had her head close to Cullen Tucker’s and was laughing at something he was telling her. Dayan leaned down, his larger body shielding hers protectively, effectively blocking her from the rowdy crowd. It occurred to her that he was a celebrity of sorts and the crowd should have been clamoring to meet him, pushing forward at least for his autograph, yet somehow no one went near him. Not even the women.

  “Corinne.” He did something to her name, made it sound exotic with his strange accent. “You are very pale. Would you like me to get your friend for you and take you outside into the night air? There are far too many people in this building.”

  “She doesn’t know.” She blurted out the truth and then was horrified that she had done so. What was it about him? She had danced with a perfect stranger, merged with him so that they seemed as intimate as lovers. Normally a private person, Corinne had a compelling urge to tell him the most personal details of her life.

  Dayan changed direction immediately, gliding through the crowd once again toward the door, taking her along with effortless ease.

  She wanted to go with him.

  Corinne couldn’t understand that irrational impulse. The cold air should have cleared her head, but he moved his body very close to hers, shattering what little composure she had left. She couldn’t think straight with him so close to her.

  Dayan took her into the shadows. Everything in him rose up to claim her for his own. He wanted her, he needed her, and his body was going up in flames. She stood there looking up at him with her enormous green eyes, and he was lost. Knew he would be lost for all time. “Good — your color is coming back.

  Your friend seems to care very much for you. I cannot imagine that she would not be happy about the baby.”

  Corinne lifted a hand to shove back the wild mass of her hair. “I shouldn’t have given you the wrong impression. Lisa will be happy about the baby for a lot of reasons. It’s just that I’m...” She trailed off, reluctant to reveal any details of her personal life to him. “It’s complicated.” Suddenly, inexplicably, she felt compelled to tell him everything about herself. He was looking down at her and his eyes were so —

  hungry. Lonely.

  She didn’t know what it was, but those eyes were impossible to resist.

  He made her feel as if she’d been cornered by a great jungle cat. His eyes didn’t blink, they simply watched her. Completely focused on her. At times she could have sworn there was a red flicker of flame in the very depths. “You have to stop looking at me like that.” The words left her throat before she could censor them, and she found herself laughing. She was a grown woman and ordinarily very logical. He was certainly getting a false impression of who she was.

  His smile was slow and very sexy. It started her wayward heart pounding again. A slow burn was smoldering somewhere in the pit of her stomach. “Am I looking at you?” His voice brushed against her skin, heating, tantalizing.

  Corinne tilted her head to one side and studied his perfect masculine features. “You know very well you are. You have that smug male look on your face. I can’t think straight when you’re looking at me like that.”

  “How am I looking at you?” He asked it softly, gently, a note of tenderness creeping in to turn her heart over.

  Like a hungry leopard about to pounce.

  The thought came unbidden. The smile climbed to his eyes as if he could read her thoughts, making her blush. “Never mind. Just stop.” She put out her hand as if she might hold him away from her.

  “You were going to tell me about the baby.”

  And the baby’s father. We do not want to leave him out of this conversation. You want to tell me.

  Shamelessly he “pushed” her, needing to know. The man was dead. Dayan could feel that. He read it in the lingering sadness in her eyes. She had cared for another man enough to bring his child into the world.

  Who was the man?

  He captured her outstretched hand, her left
hand, found the circle of gold, the symbol of human marriage, the mark proclaiming she belonged to another man.

  The thought triggered the dangerous aggression of his species, and Dayan fought down the rising beast. He would not chance frightening her. His thumb rubbed over the ring almost absently, back and forth, a gentle caress, persistent. Insistent. He brought her fingertips to his lips. All the while his black gaze focused completely on her, staring directly into her eyes.

  His look was hypnotic. Strangely exhilarating. Corinne’s breath caught in her throat as his teeth scraped along her finger, his mouth warm and moist. Butterfly wings brushed at her stomach. His teeth tugged gently at her gold wedding band. The sensation was so erotic, she shivered. She stared up at him for a long moment, completely fascinated, before remembering to pull her hand free.

  “Tell me about your baby, honey,” he commanded, his voice low, almost purring.

  He touched her mind very gently, with great care. She was fighting the compulsion to tell him what he wanted to know, but she was human and he was an ancient, one in a long line of dominating males. He was far too strong for her to resist.

  Corinne pressed her palm protectively over the baby.

  The wind whipped down the street, gusted leaves and debris into whirling eddies. Unknowingly, she moved deeper into the shelter of his body. “I grew up with Lisa and her brother John.” She stopped speaking abruptly, her throat closing on the name.

  John.

  The name pierced him like a knife. The way she said it, the pain reflected in her eyes, told him how much the man had meant to her .

  John.

  Dayan had never liked that name. He didn’t want to hear any more; he didn’t want to hear the sound of her voice when she said that hated name.

  Corinne twisted her wedding ring nervously. “The three of us had a difficult childhood, so

  I

  suppose we were closer than most. John and I were... different.” She stole a quick look up at him from under her heavy dark lashes. She didn’t want to explain to him what that word meant. She didn’t know him, didn’t know why she seemed to trust him when he was a virtual stranger to her. She didn’t know why her body seemed to know him.

  Crave him.

  Corinne shoved her wayward thoughts away, concentrating entirely on how much she could tell him... or not tell him.

  Dayan examined her mind, wanting an explanation of “different.” He caught a hastily censored picture. Telekinesis. She could move objects with her mind. Of course, she was psychic. She would have to be psychic if she were his true lifemate. Dayan had no way of explaining to her exactly what a lifemate was. How could he reveal to her he was of another species? That he had been on earth a thousand years? That he needed blood to survive?

  Dayan watched her fingers turn that small gold band. With every touch, every stroke, his stomach knotted tighter and tighter. He tried to force his gaze back to her face, but that small betraying movement fascinated him.

  Corinne shrugged her shoulders. “To make a long story short, John and I were married and he was murdered a few months ago. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I haven’t said anything to Lisa because... well...” She hesitated, searching for the right words.

  That brought his dark gaze back to her face. She felt the impact of his focused stare all the way to her bones. His hands covered hers, stilling the nervous play of her fingers over her ring. Her heart leapt, a curious sensation that alarmed her.

  His black eyes never left her face. Not once. And he still hadn’t blinked. She felt almost as if she were falling forward into those strange, hypnotic eyes. What difference did it make if he thought she was a basket case? She hadn’t asked for his sympathy, nor did she want it. She wasn’t telling him the story for sympathy. Why

  was

  she telling him her story? Her chin lifted and she looked at him almost defiantly. “I have a heart condition.” He could run like a rabbit and she’d be very happy. He was a complication, a fantasy, the worst sort of “bad boy,” and she wanted no part of him.

  Dayan touched her mind very gently. He caught an image of hospitals, machines, endless tests. Her asking about a waiting list for a heart. Doctor after doctor shaking their heads. She had severe allergies. She bled easily, too much. The specialists were amazed she had lived as long as she had. Dayan rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, his eyes intent on her face. “So the baby is a danger, then. Lisa would not like that.”

  Corinne let out her breath. It was almost a relief to tell someone. “No, Lisa won’t like it all. She’ll be so frightened.” Corinne had waited until there was no possibility Lisa might try to talk her out of having the baby. She wanted a baby. Her little girl. Long after her death, after John’s death, their daughter would live and breathe, run and play, and hopefully lead a perfectly normal life. Corinne had absolute faith that Lisa would cherish and love the baby. She pulled her hands away from his to place them protectively over the small mound where the baby rested.

  “You are very small. How far along are you?” Even as the words left his mouth, he marveled that he could say them. In all his imaginings, he had never thought to be asking such a question. Heat blossomed and spread. A sense of belonging. Strangely, he felt as if he had a family already.

  “The doctors are a little worried about that, but she looks good. She’s growing fine. They’ve told me it’s a girl. I’m six months along.”

  His breath hitched in concern. She was tiny. “Are the doctors concerned about your heart problem also? Do they view this pregnancy as risky? Perhaps very dangerous?” His voice was still as gentle as ever, yet it had an effect on her she couldn’t seem to shake. He sounded almost as if he were reprimanding her in some way and assessing what he was going to do about the situation.

  Corinne felt compelled to answer him, although it wasn’t what she wanted. “My heart has enough trouble working for just me, let alone a child too,” she conceded reluctantly. Her fingers once again found the circle of gold and began to twist, a nervous habit betraying her inner turmoil.

  Dayan nodded his head even as his entire body knotted in protest against that small action. “And your husband — “ He forced the words out despite the fact they wanted to stick in his throat. “Why was he murdered?” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and caught her hand, pulling her palm to his chest, right over his heart, effectively stopping her from touching the ring again.

  Corinne’s gaze flew to his. Electricity arced between them. The air sizzled with the charge. She found it difficult to think with his black eyes mesmerizing her and his touch scattering her senses. Discussing the murder of her husband with him should have been impossible, yet she found the words tumbling out. “The police haven’t come up with a motive. The killers didn’t even take his wallet.”

  “But you have an idea.” He made it a statement.

  Corinne felt that same desire to confess every detail. Normally, she confided in Lisa and no one else, yet Corinne hadn’t said a single word to Lisa about the baby or her own suspicions about John’s death.

  Why on earth was she telling a virtual stranger her every secret?

  “John could do things that weren’t considered normal. About a year ago, he went to a university and told someone there about his talent. From there, he was directed to a center where psychic ability was tested. The Morrison Center for Psychic Research. John believed he might be able to help people in some way, using his unique gift. Almost immediately after his appointment at the center, he told me he thought he was being followed.” She withdrew her hand. “This is hardly something you would want to hear about.”

  “On the contrary. I’m extremely interested. Everything about you interests me.”

  Chapter 2

  “Corinne!” Lisa burst from the club with Cullen one step behind her. She was obviously upset, her beautiful face betraying her anxiety. “Rina, are you ill? I’m so sorry, I should have been paying more attention.” She clutched Corinne’s purse pro
tectively to her.

  “I’m perfectly fine, Lisa,” Corinne answered immediately. She stepped away from Dayan, but somehow he moved too in a ripple of power so that he was sheltering her body from the rising wind. Corinne looked up at his chiseled features and found her heart in her throat again. What was it about him? How could he so easily rob her of her breath and sanity with only a look? A movement?

  “We were just talking away from the noise,” Dayan drawled, smiling lazily, his teeth very white in the darkness. He raked his hand carelessly through his shining ebony hair, managing to tousle it more. Strands fell in disarray across his forehead, yet he looked more attractive than ever.

  The two women exchanged a quick glance, rolling their eyes in complete accord while Corinne stifled a groan. How could any man be real and look and act like he did? Corinne mouthed “bad boy” at Lisa, making her laugh.

  Lisa leaned close to whisper, “Only you could look at a man too sexy to be on earth and reduce his incredible beauty to bad boy.”

  Corinne felt herself a fraud. Lisa didn’t think Corinne was in the least susceptible to Dayan’s dark sensuality. But she was more than susceptible. She was enthralled, under a spell of enchantment. She even briefly wondered if his songs, or his voice, might have somehow hypnotized her.

  Dayan reached out and casually removed Corinne’s purse from Lisa’s hand, then gave it to Corinne. He would have been amused at her thoughts had her heart not been stuttering again, a laboring that bothered him immensely. How could he fix it without harming her child? His eyes moved possessively over Corinne’s face as he watched her pull a small container from her purse and swallow a tiny pill. With the same easy strength he always exhibited, he shackled Corinne’s bare wrist and brought it up for his inspection. “Why are you not wearing a medical bracelet? In an emergency it would alert strangers how to help you.”