Mind Game (GhostWalkers #2)(63)
Author: Christine Feehan

There was a small silence. “The roof. I always feel better when I go up to the roof.”

Why did he hate the thought of her spending so much time in the middle of the night sitting out on a roof? He hugged her closer to him, scattered kisses through her hair. “Stay with me, Dahlia. Just lie in my arms and let me hold you. I’d say we’d leave the door open, but our friendly alligator is getting more and more passionate out there. I don’t want him to visit us.” Nicolas drew her back toward the bed. There was some resistance, but not much. She went with him, one slow step at a time, almost as if she were testing herself.

Dahlia went with Nicolas because she couldn’t resist him. He seemed to have a very negative effect on her self-control. She wanted to spend every moment with him because someday soon, she would be alone again. It was already too late to protect herself. It had never occurred to her she would find herself falling for him. The very thought of it made her slightly ill. She had learned to enjoy her solitary life. There were hundreds of benefits. She just couldn’t think of them when she was wrapped so tightly in his arms. When he was touching her with such tenderness she ached inside.

Dahlia allowed him to tug her into the bed beside him. She fit her body into the curve of his and instantly felt contentment. It shouldn’t have been that way, she should have felt just the opposite. She never allowed anyone to touch her, and she spent only short periods of time with people, yet she wanted, even needed to be with Nicolas. And that was terrifying.

His arms crept around her, his fingers tangling with hers. “Stop shaking.”

“Are you as afraid as I am?” Maybe it was admitting too much, but she had to ask. She had to know.

“Of course I am. This is new territory for both of us, Dahlia. I’m as vulnerable as you. I honestly don’t know how you got in, but I need you with me.”

“I’m not very lovable, Nicolas. I know that. I accepted it a long time ago.” When there was only Whitney standing in the dark telling her she was uncooperative and she wouldn’t ever get to have the things the others got. Even then, even as a child, she rebelled against that hard, absolute authority. She taught herself things didn’t matter. People didn’t matter.

Nicolas buried his face in the silken tangle of her hair and inhaled their mingled scents. “That’s not true, Dahlia. There was nothing wrong with you as a child, and there isn’t anything wrong with you now. Why do you think your nurse stayed all those years? Loyalty to Whitney? A pay-check? She was as isolated out in the bayou as you were, maybe more. She chose to stay with you, even if it meant deceiving you and living a limited life. She had no other children. I saw the earlier tapes, when you were a child. She was there, much younger, but she stood up to Whitney for you. And she was frightened by what he’d done.”

She rubbed her chin on his forearm. “You mean by the monster he created.”

“Not a monster, Dahlia. A GhostWalker. There are more of us than you know, and we are a family of sorts. You aren’t alone.”

She closed her eyes. She wasn’t alone at the moment and that was enough for her. Nicolas wanted to believe in fairy tales. She’d read her share, hoping for miracles, but in the end, there was no hundred-acre wood to play in with little stuffed animals. There was pain and crushing disappointment and betrayal. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she refused to shed them, holding Nicolas close to her and allowing the rocking of his body to soothe her to sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Someone’s outside,” Nicolas whispered, leaning across her to get his gun. How he managed to be on the wrong side of the bed again was beyond him. He felt the familiar butt of the Beretta in his hand just as the front door opened. He shifted to put his body between Dahlia and the open door of the bedroom. They had slept far too late for it to be morning. Sunlight poured through the window along with the heat.

“I know you’re holding a gun on me, Nico,” Gator’s voice called from the front room. “Put it away. It’s not very nice when I’ve been so hospitable.” Suddenly Gator was framed in the doorway, grinning at them, his black, unruly hair tumbling into his face and his piercing blue eyes bright with laughter. “Oh, I see you are most friendly with each other. And Lily was so worried.” He turned his head. “Ian, Tucker, come look at this. Our man has found himself a little kitty cat.”

“Shut up, Gator, or I’m going to shoot you.” Nicolas put the gun away and looked down at Dahlia. She had the covers pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were enormous and getting bigger by the moment as more GhostWalkers crowded into the doorway to gape at the sight of Nicolas, the loner, in bed with Dahlia.

“And you said he didn’t know what to do with a woman,” Tucker Addison accused the tallest of the group, Ian McGillicuddy.

“I stand corrected.” Ian gave Nicolas a small salute.

Dahlia made a small distressed squeak. Nicolas picked up the gun. “I’m going to start shooting if the lot of you don’t get out and close the door.”

“What a poor sport,” Gator groused. “And it’s my house.” He reached for the doorknob, winking at Nicolas as he closed it firmly.

There was a small silence. Dahlia groaned and pulled the cover over her head. “I’m never getting up again. Go away, Nicolas and take that motley crew with you. There is no way I’m going to face all those men.”

“There weren’t that many,” he coaxed, tugging at the cover. “At least they didn’t walk in, in the middle of one of our firestorms.”

“Nicolas, I don’t have any clothes.” She sucked in her breath, her eyes going wide. “You don’t think Lily is with them, do you?”

“No, I’m sure she stayed behind with Ryland.” Throwing off the covers he stretched, then turned back to her, gathering her into his arms. She was stiff, resisting him. Nicolas blew warm air against her skin. She shivered in response. He lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed his way up to her ear.

“That’s not fair,” she pushed at him. She was utterly annoyed that she sounded breathless. That she was breathless. “You can’t be doing that.”

“You’re getting upset, and that means energy is going to come storming into our bedroom. It’s all in the line of duty.” He found her mouth, taking full advantage when she opened it to protest.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his, her tongue sliding along his teeth, teasing his tongue, drugging his senses with her potent response. He thought himself so controlled, but she shattered his discipline every time. His fist bunched in her hair and his mouth fused with hers as he held her to him. There was instant, urgent need, a tidal wave of heat pouring over both of them. He felt her br**sts push against his chest. One leg wrapped around his thigh. He could feel her hot and wet and inviting. The need was beyond his ability to stop. He knew part of it was the fierce energy surrounding them and their sexual desires feeding one another, building too fast, too out of control, but it didn’t matter. Only Dahlia mattered with her petal soft skin and incredible heat.