Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(55)

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about. It isn’t worth getting more upset over.”

“People have upsetting thoughts, Dahlia.”

“I know. Believe it or not, I’m a person, and I actually do think about things. I even have regular emotions. I once saw a man kick a dog, and I got so upset three houses behind him caught fire. I was nine years old.” She glanced up at him, checking to see how he took it. Telling him something important. Something they both had to know. “Can you imagine if I ever got into an argument with my husband? He’s silly enough to disagree with me over the amount of milk that goes into tea or some other inconsequential thing. Poof. He goes up in smoke.”

When he looked down at her, she was already looking beyond him to the river. “What happens when you feel pain?”

“From the overload?”

“No, just regular pain. You stub your toe. You get a cold. You get punched by some man in the street because I’m too slow on the trigger.” There was a hiss of anger in his voice. It came out of nowhere, that slow smoldering burn that seared his belly and flared with a dark heat that threatened to consume him. His palm slipped over her stomach and lay there gently. The touch was meant to be impersonal, to soothe her. To take away the pain. It turned into something altogether different. Not sexual, but intimate. And her skin burned through the thick material of the dark sweatshirt. Or maybe it was his skin. He shouldn’t have been able to feel her, yet he did.

She closed her eyes against the emotions swamping her. Or maybe it was energy, she honestly couldn’t tell anymore. She wanted to run away from him. Away from everyone. Her head pounded and her skin itched and felt too tight for her body.

“Don’t try to run out on me, Dahlia,” Nicolas cautioned, reading her easily. His voice roughened, sounded edgy. “You’re so busy trying to keep an emotional distance you’re forgetting what we’re doing here.” He pulled her from in front of the window where her face could be reflected and drew her around the side of the building, pushing her back into the heavy shrubbery.

Her black eyes blazed at him. “Of the two of us, you’re far more afraid of emotional commitment than I am. I may have limits, but at least I put myself out there. You’re so busy taking care that nothing disturbs your perfect tranquility that you’ve forgotten to live your life.”

The air fairly crackled with electricity. Nicolas could feel the rising energy beginning to surround them. It fueled the raw emotion building inside of him. He also glimpsed their quarry walking along the street toward a small blue Ford that was parked a block up from them. The man seemed to be in no particular hurry, almost sauntering as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

He glanced around, saw a taxi parked close to a restaurant. Certain the cab was waiting for customers, Nicolas had a twenty-dollar bill in his hand when he signaled. He kept a firm grip on the nape of Dahlia’s neck, keeping them connected. He told himself it was because he needed to stay close to her to keep the energy at bay, but the truth refused to stay in the back of his mind. He was the one that needed the connection. They were at odds, and he needed the reassurance of physical contact.

“You’re dragging me.” Dahlia pointed it out with a little bite in her voice.

Nicolas actually snapped his teeth together, inwardly swearing. It was insane the way he was always so off balance around her. Insane, and damned uncomfortable. The worst of it was, she could walk away from him. She might not like it, and she might even fantasize over him now and then, but she could do it. And she was the emotional, fiery one. He couldn’t walk away. He had no idea how it happened, how she had managed to crawl inside of his lungs until he couldn’t breathe properly without her.

“Get in the cab.” He made it an order knowing she hated orders.

He didn’t know how it happened. He had been perfectly fine without her for years. He’d never given much thought to finding a woman to share his life. He lived a life of solitude, going where he wanted, not tied to anything emotionally or physically, and it was his preference. Until he found himself in Louisiana with a woman who could shake him up with one look.

Dahlia slid onto the backseat of the cab. The pressure welling up in her chest was amazing. Anger was hot and furious. Just like the intensity of the passion she shared with Nicolas. She dragged air into her lungs. They fed off each other. There was no other explanation. When she touched Nicolas, he cleared outside energy away from her. When they formed the arc of energy between them, they built the strength and passion of it together, one feeding the other’s intensity.

She cleared her throat as Nicolas folded his much larger frame into the backseat beside her. She waited until he gave the driver instructions before sliding her hand into his. She waited to see if he’d pull away from her. The waves of anger were still rolling off of him, but his fingers tightened around hers.

“We’re amplifying each other’s emotions.” She said it in a low voice. Starkly, without embellishment, staring out the window while she did so.

Nicolas closed his eyes briefly. She was right, and he’d known it all along. The knowledge that he’d been aware of it on some level, yet allowed his emotions to be amplified anyway bothered him almost as much as his need to be with her. What did he really know about her, after all? He looked down at her. She was everything he’d ever wanted, he just hadn’t known it. What the hell was he going to do about it? He rubbed his thumb along her fingers in a small gesture meant to soothe.