Dream Man

Dane paused, holding himself deep within her. His powerful body was shaking. “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, and barely audible.

She couldn’t think what to say. She wasn’t having any empathic interference; her attention was wholly focused on her body. But physically she wasn’t certain she could bear it when he started thrusting. He was so big, and the slightest movement rasped along her inner nerve endings; the sensation hovered between ecstasy and pain. Her mind was a blank, and she couldn’t find the words to give him the reassurance he wanted.

He was a man, not a saint. His male flesh was throbbing inside her. He held himself rigidly still for a tense moment while he waited for her answer, but when none came his control shattered. A rough sound burst from his throat and he began thrusting with heavy power, reaching deep into her. The impact shook her entire body. Now she knew her answer, and clung fiercely to him as his hips hammered. The sharp slap of their bodies coming together mingled with his harsh breathing, and her own soft moans.

She had wanted Dane, and she had wanted this. Tightly she shut her eyes, savoring every moment. She loved his roughness, the savagery of his hunger. She loved the helpless groans that escaped him, the heat and sweat as his body coiled and struck. She had always felt apart, an oddity, but with Dane she was simply, and purely, a woman. Nothing interfered with the moment; they were male and female, mating with fierce and uncomplicated passion. She wished it could go on forever.

It didn’t, though. It couldn’t, given the urgency of his need. All too soon his rhythm quickened, and he reared back, pounding into her with heavy force. He pushed her legs high, lifting her ankles onto his shoulders. Gasping, she felt him getting even bigger and harder inside her. He gave a harsh cry, one last thrust, and began shuddering convulsively.

When he had stopped shaking, when the last small quake had rippled through him, she opened her arms, and he weakly let himself sink into them. His heavy weight crushed her into the mattress, but she was too tired to care. His heartbeat thudded slowly against her breast. His dark head, wet with sweat, rested beside hers on the pillow. His face was turned toward her, and his warm breath washed over her neck.

She stroked his back, loving the feel of his heated skin beneath her palms. He was becoming heavier as he drifted into sleep, but she didn’t care. She was limp with utter contentment. Only heaven could be better than this, lying in the aftermath of lovemaking, the man she loved sleeping cradled in her body and her arms. She wanted time to stand still in a place where evil couldn’t intrude.

It intruded with a sudden shrill beeping.

Dane reacted instantly, withdrawing from her and sitting up in the same fluid motion. He turned on the lamp and silenced his beeper, briefly glancing at the digital readout. Marlie lay frozen. Without a word he picked up the phone and punched in a number, holding the receiver cradled between his head and shoulder while he began putting on his rumpled clothes. “This is Hollister,” he said tersely. He listened for a moment, then said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Have you called Trammell? Never mind, I’ll do it. Radio back to the patrol officer and tell him to make damn certain the scene is secured.”

He depressed the button and got another dial tone. While he called the second number, Marlie got out of bed and fumbled for her robe. It was twisted, one of the arms turned inside out. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to straighten the garment and wrap herself in it, pulling the belt tight. Dane sat down on the side of the bed and began putting on his shoes.

“We have a victim,” he said quietly into the phone. “I’ll meet you there.” He didn’t glance at Marlie. “It’s 3311 Cypress Terrace.”

Cypress. Her stomach knotted into a cold lump. She had known, but this dispelled the last faint doubt.

He hung up the phone and went into the living room, shrugging into his shirt as he walked. Marlie followed him, as silent as a ghost, and stood in the doorway watching as he slipped into his shoulder holster. He tucked the big pistol into place under his left arm.

She didn’t approach him, and he didn’t come to her. He paused by the front door and looked back at her. “Are you all right?” he asked, but there was remoteness in his eyes and his voice, his mind already on the job awaiting him.

“Sure,” she said, burying the terror and pain and loneliness deep inside her. She couldn’t allow her weakness to delay him.

“I’ll be back when I can,” he said, and left.

She stood until the sound of his car had died away, then steadily went to the front door and locked it. Next she cleaned up the remains of their pizza, and washed the few dishes that were dirty. When she went back into the living room, she saw her panties in the corner of the couch and picked them up, wadding them in her hand.

She was very tired, but sleep seemed impossible. The delight of the night had been destroyed by a return of horror. She couldn’t allow herself to think of either right now. She sat down on the couch and quietly watched the minutes of the night tick away, as she held her own vigil.

13

LIGHTNING FLASHED IN THE DISTANCE, REVEALING THE UNDER belly of low, purplish black clouds. It would rain again before morning. Dane drove automatically, clearing his mind of everything. He couldn’t let himself think about Nadine Vinick, or the expectation might lead him to see similarities that weren’t there. He couldn’t think about Marlie, or his concentration would be completely shot. He tried not to anticipate anything about the scene he was about to see, tried not to remember how Marlie had described it. Again, he didn’t want to prejudice himself. He had to see everything clearly.