Steve blinked and shook her head in disbelief. "That's it? Business as usual? Listen, pal, I just aged twenty years because of that last little trick." As her temper rose, she started pacing back and forth in the protected entranceway. "How silly of me to think you had secrets before. I hadn't seen anything yet, had I? I don't even want to know anymore. I don't understand any of it, and I'm scared to death that knowing would be even worse! She came to a decision and turned to confront him. "Okay. I'm going home. Have a wonderful life. I hope I never run into you again."
Grabbing her bag, she strode down the sidewalk with hopes of finding a cab. What the hell time was it anyway? They had climbed onto the yacht around two, so it must be about eleven o'clock now.
"Steve."
Falcon's raspy voice brought her to a stop more effectively than his hand on her elbow. It vibrated through her like a kitten purring against her breast. He should not be allowed to do that!
"Please, do not go. I need your help." And you, he added to himself.
Steve fought to reinforce her resolve. Apparently, he thought he could dissolve her into a mindless pool of gelatin with his sexy, pleading voice and the pained expression on his handsome face, and the way his thumb caressed her elbow, and ... Oh, damn! He was doing it to her again.
She took a deep breath, stepped back, and crossed her arms in front of her. "Explain." To make sure she did not give in without getting an answer from him, Steve stared at a building in the distance instead of his eyes.
His words came out haltingly, and he hoped she could not tell he was making it up as he went along. "I have a few psychic abilities. I was afraid it would frighten you if you knew."
"So, I'm frightened and not terribly surprised by that news flash. How did we get here from the yacht? And how did you zap back and forth like that?"
"My ring is... an experimental transportation device. Very few people are aware of its existence."
"Let me get this straight. You expect me to believe that some brainy scientist figured out how to dematerialize and transport people across thousands of miles in a matter of seconds, using a fake opal ring. Then he decided to test it with an Interpol agent." Falcon's eyebrows raised a notch. "Don't look so shocked. I've seen every episode of 'Star Trek.' I know all about things like dematerialization. I also know no one in this time period has invented it. Of course, you could have come here from a future time. My, God! That's it, isn't it?"
Falcon's face relaxed into a smile. He wondered, if she could accept his being a time traveler, could she accept his being from another world? His intuition responded negatively. He would allow her to believe whatever she was most comfortable with. "No one must know where I am from, Steve. Will you keep my secret?" At least he had not actually lied to her.
Steve's excitement had her pacing again. "I can't believe it, but I do. How can I not after everything you've done? Will you tell me about the future, Falcon? Where, I mean, when are you from? Is it fantastic? Do we find a cure for cancer? Does the ..."
Falcon stopped her by placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Please do not make this more difficult for me. I can tell you no more than you already know. I am here on a mission for my people. Will you continue to help me find Gordon Underwood and not speak to anyone about my being here?"
Steve's smile vanished as she removed his hands and stepped away from him. "On one condition." Keeping both her eyes and voice lowered, she stated her terms. "Stop seducing me. You don't need to do that to get my cooperation."
Falcon was momentarily confused by her demand and her reasoning. He sensed that her desire for him had not lessened, and she seemed fairly satisfied with his explanations. He reached out empathically for understanding and felt the answer—her pride was bruised. When he tried to take her hands, she retreated another step. "Steve, with the exception of what happened earlier this evening, I have worked very hard at trying not to seduce you. I would not use such a method to obtain your cooperation, even if it resulted in something I wanted very much. But if that is your condition for keeping my secret, I promise to do my best not to entice you. If you will be honest, though, I should make the same demand of you."
If she had to be honest, they were equally guilty when it came to seduction and rejection. But when he referred to something he wanted very much, why did she still wish that she, not Underwood, was that something? Regardless of his meaning, his secret had just put the seal on her resistance to his charms. Any hour he would be gone, not only from her life, but from her time.
She needed to get back on track. "I appreciate your promise, and return the same to you. Now, why do we need to get into this building?"
"When we were in the office on the yacht, I overheard a telephone conversation between Underwood and King."
"What? You never picked up the phone."
"It is one of my abilities, Steve. When I touch objects, I can sometimes see and hear things that have occurred a short time before. You are doubtful, I see. If you do not want to hear the answers, I would rather you not ask the questions."
"Sorry. Go ahead."
"I told you what I learned. I neither heard nor saw anything that revealed where Underwood was during that conversation. I have deduced that the secretary here knows where he is. She was too suspicious to let me near her before, and now I am sure she would be more so. We do not know how many people Underwood has instructed to stop us. If we could gain access to his offices when no one is around, I am sure I would discover a clue to his whereabouts."
"Why can't you just zap yourself in there with your trusty ring?"
Falcon smiled in spite of her sarcastic tone. "I do not have an exact floor plan or a signal to home in on. I would not care to transport myself into a wall or piece of furniture. I had the exact coordinates of this location since it is where I originally arrived, and, although I had calculated the houseboat's position, this was the one I thought of first when it became necessary to leave the yacht immediately. You see, I recognized King's aura as he approached the office."
Steve pushed down her next dozen questions with a groan. "Okay, but there's no easy way to get into that building once it's closed, and it won't be open until Monday morning, at least thirty hours from now. In the meantime, you're welcome to stay at my house. I can only offer the couch tonight, since Mom and the kids are asleep by now. Tomorrow I'll rearrange them a little to give you a bed."
She did not wait for his acceptance before going on, "My car's still at the airport. We'll take a cab out there, then head to the house. I may as well warn you. My son is an early riser, so I'd suggest you get what sleep you can as soon as we get there. He has no sympathy for adults who sleep in late."
After picking up her car at the airport, the trip to Kensington was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Steve was too tired to try to get Falcon to satisfy more of her curiosity about him, and he had closed his eyes minutes after they got in her car. Whether he was sleeping or deep in thought, she decided to leave him alone.
After tiptoeing into the house, she found him a pillow and blanket and retired to her room. She was positive she would never sleep after everything that had happened, but her head met the pillow and exhaustion drove her straight to dreamland.
Falcon tried every possible position, but it was impossible. The couch was too short, he could not sleep fully dressed, the lenses had been in his eyes so long the drops no longer helped, and he had too much on his mind. Since he sensed Steve was asleep, he went into the bathroom, removed the lenses, and cleaned them. He desperately needed to leave them out of his eyes for a few hours. Deciding the blanket was cover enough, he shed his clothing. Both the lenses and his clothes could be replaced in time if he made a point of programming himself to arise as soon as the first person, probably the boy, began to stir—if he ever fell asleep at all.
By propping the pillow under his neck and resting his head on the cushioned arm of the sofa, he was able to extend his legs fully. If only he could cleanse his mind as easily as the lenses, the la
st obstacle between him and Morpheus would be removed.
His thoughts were not exactly unclean. They were just tormented with images of a small scrap of white satin—a fabric that took second place to the delicate softness of Steve's skin. And he had touched so much of it. With no effort he recalled the tangy fragrance that was Steve's alone, and the salty-sweet taste of her tongue. How close he had come to discovering the ultimate human pleasure when they had been on the houseboat after the fight. He had meant to protect rather than hurt her by refusing to answer her questions. At that time he had had no way of foretelling that she would discover some of his secrets anyway.
Falcon tried not to dwell on how differently things might have been between them had he known that she would accept a story as unusual as his being a time traveler. But even if he had thought of that lie instead of her, he would not have expected her to believe it.
And now that his secrets were no longer a barrier, he had promised not to seduce her.
Would once have been enough? Or, after his first release within her body's grasp, would he have needed to repeat the experience over and over again, until he had made up for countless years of abstinence?
If he had been uncomfortable before, his present state was bordering torture. The harder he tried not to think about her, the harder he became. He could not stop himself from imagining what it would be like to be completely enveloped by Steve.
Steve's dream mechanism shifted into high gear. Falcon had appeared fleetingly in another dream, on another night, but its content had been forgotten upon awakening. Tonight's dream was so much better. They were back on the houseboat, lying together, kissing, touching. This time she did not stop him or get up and leave. This time she wore nothing at all.
He moved over her, positioning himself between her spread thighs. With one long, slow drive, he entered her body. The low simmer of sensation flared into frenzied need. She could feel him throbbing, holding back. Didn't he understand? She didn't want him to hold back. Her body was ready, waiting breathlessly to be carried over the edge of the rainbow. She opened her eyes to convey her urgent need. Two flames of golden fire leapt from his eyes to hers, blinding and burning her in a climactic burst of passion.
Steve bolted upright, her chest pounding furiously. There was no man in her room. It had been a dream. Her nightgown was bunched up around her waist, her inner thighs were damp and sticky, and her body trembled. She had never experienced a dream so intense, so erotic ... so real.
She got up from bed and walked down the hall. She had to assure herself that Falcon was asleep on the couch. In the darkness she could make out his form. His breathing was strained, erratic, as if he was struggling for air.
Not certain if he was ill or having a nightmare, Steve stepped cautiously toward the couch. "Falcon?" Then her own breath became a strangled gasp that exited in a frightened whimper. It was Falcon. And it wasn't. It was a being with inhuman eyes— glittering, golden eyes with black, marquis-diamond pupils that reflected her face like twin mirrors.
Falcon jumped up and grasped her upper arms. Steve's eyes had adjusted well enough to see that he was naked and aroused, and her fear escalated to terror when he touched her.
"Please. My children. My mother."
He gave her a rough shake. "Stop it! Stop the fear, Steve. There is nothing to be afraid of." He tried to pull her into his embrace to comfort her, but it only frightened her more, and when she began struggling in earnest, he gentled his hold without releasing her. Holy stars! Her fear was directed at him! "Tell me. What has frightened you?"
Steve was confused. He sounded the same, he felt the same ...
"Your eyes. My God, Falcon. What are you?"
What am I? He could not think past her paralyzing fear. He raised one hand to her temple.
Steve pulled her head away. "No! Don't touch me!" Her voice was a frantic whisper, torn between a desire to scream and a prayer that her family would not awaken and leave the safety of their rooms.
Falcon would not relinquish his hold. He was desperate to reach beyond her fear. "Steve. It is me. Falcon. I have never hurt you, have I? Think! Let go of the fear and think. I have kept my eyes masked only because they are different. I could not afford to call attention to myself. I am still the same person you have been with all week." He closed his eyes. "Look at me now, Steve. What do you see?"
Calling upon her long-established courage, she lifted her head. As long as she could not see his catlike eyes, she could tell herself he was Falcon. Her terror subsided, leaving her shaking in its wake. Steve raised one trembling hand to his cheek. Her fingertips confirmed his identity. "I don't understand," she murmured quietly.
Falcon took a slow, deep breath. Perhaps the Noronian code of honesty was the best policy. He found he could not bear any more lies. "I will tell you the truth, if you are sure you want to know it. Would you prefer that I replace my lenses before we talk? They irritate my eyes. I removed them, thinking you were asleep."
"I... Ill be okay now. Leave them. I just wasn't expecting it... on top of the dream." She prepared herself for a second look as he raised his eyelids. When she looked at his eyes this time she was not frightened. In fact, she had to admit, his eyes were even somewhat fascinating.
Falcon let her take as long as she needed to get accustomed to his real appearance. He had never had anyone react to him that way. Aster was a Terran, but when she met him, she had already accepted the incredible fact that she had been transplanted to a strange world in the center of her planet. All things considered, his eyes probably seemed rather insignificant to her.
He knew Steve was no longer afraid of him, but she was still wary. "You said you had a dream. Was it a nightmare? Is that what brought you to me?"
Steve slipped from his arms and turned away from him. "No, not a nightmare. It was so real. I thought you were ... Never mind. It's not important."
Falcon suddenly realized what had awakened her. If she had not been so terrified, he would have smelled it immediately. The musky aroma of sex surrounded her like a cloud. Somehow his fantasy about her must have invaded her sleep and become her dream.
He stared at her stiffly held back. The modest nightgown could not prevent him from seeing her as nature had formed her. Perfect. Beautiful. Instantly, he regretted using his talent for seeing through objects, as his body responded against his wishes. "It was not real, but my thoughts were very explicit. I had no idea they would affect you in your sleep."
Steve jerked her head toward him as she absorbed his words. He gave her that dream? Glancing at his condition, she immediately turned around again. "Please cover yourself. Then I want to hear the truth."
Sitting on the couch, he drew the blanket over his lower half. "Please sit with me."
After making sure he had done as she asked, she sat gingerly on the opposite end of the sofa. She was getting used to his strange eyes, but she had lingering doubts about the rest of him.
"Steve. Come closer."
"No. I can hear you from here."
"Halfway then. Close enough to hold my hand." She did not move. "I will talk when I have your hand." It was a way of keeping her there until she had heard everything and accepted it. He longed for the contact. When she scooted only the minimal distance required to place her hand within his reach, he knew he was right for insisting.
"You're not a time traveler, are you?" Steve stated to get him started.
"No. I am a tracker, not so different from you. I come from Innerworld, where a thousand people died and a female vanished due to Gordon Underwood's criminal behavior. He stole a ring like the one I wear, and my assignment is to retrieve it before he causes more damage."
Steve listened intently, without interruption, as he told her of the world in the inner core of the Earth, of the doorways, and accidental transplants of Outerworlders. He spoke warmly of Aster, a female Terran, like herself, who recently joined with his friend, Romulus, who was the governor of Innerworld; how Aster had been his guide on two brief vi
sits to Outerworld, and why they had needed to come out.
It was as if he had been storing up conversation all week, and it all came out at once. He finished by detailing the events that led up to his present mission. At least now she understood why Underwood needed Nesterman's assistance.
"I don't know what to say," Steve said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I shouldn't believe anything so outlandish, but I do. Are you doing something to my mind to make me believe you?" she asked suspiciously.
He squeezed her hand once. "No. Only if I touch your temple, can I plant information in your mind. I have told you the truth."
"Can you read my mind?" Steve frowned at the idea.
"By the same method, yes. Except with you, when your emotions are exceptionally strong, I discovered I can pick up an occasional word, without touching you.
"What do you mean, 'except with me'? When did you discover this?"
Falcon saw no reason to keep the rest of it from her and explained his empathic powers and the gifts he'd always had. He revealed how his talents had expanded slightly in the last few months in Innerworld, but that powerful new abilities had abruptly come to him in the short time they had been together.
Steve was so pleased that he was finally talking openly to her, she did not allow herself to judge the content of his statements too harshly. "In other words, you're going through a kind of mental change-of-life."
The analogy made Falcon grimace. He needed to tell her all of it. "It is physical, also. My strength has increased, and there has been another change which I will tell you about, so that you can understand some of what has happened between us. As an empath, I never experienced emotions of my own. Shortly before we met, my emotional side began developing unexpectedly. Contact with you stimulated the growth that much faster."
Topaz Dreams Page 15
