Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(69)

She did sound edgy. He shouldn’t have been pleased, but he was. He could make her feel all those things when no one else had. “Well, at least life with me isn’t boring.”

She smiled just like he knew she would. She didn’t want to, and she hid it against her knees, but he caught the brief flash of her teeth and the curve of her mouth. “I should have told you I love your mouth. Every time I look at your mouth I want to kiss you.”

Dahlia wasn’t touching that. She watched the outline of an island take shape. “Is this the place?”

“If Gator drew the map correctly. What’s that noise?”

“Alligators calling to one another. They’re in love.”

They rounded a bend, and a small dock came into sight. The cabin was just back from the pier. Grass covered the ground surrounding the house. To his dismay, an alligator rested on the wooden dock and another in the yard. “Do you think they moved in while Gator was gone?”

“It’s very common on these small islands to have alligators share your yard.”

“Well get your flamethrower ready, we may need it.”

Dahlia burst out laughing. “You don’t give off enough energy to stoke the fires, Nicolas.”

He turned his head and looked fully into her eyes, causing her heart to jump wildly. “Little liar.”

Nicolas’s tone was so silky smooth, such a promise of passion and pleasure Dahlia shivered, her entire body aching in reaction. How in the world could he make her so aware of him not only as a person, but also as a male? It was silly. It was too dangerous. Someone had to think with brains instead of other portions of the anatomy. She sighed and stepped out of the boat, carefully avoiding the alligator as she tied the boat to the dock. “We’re just visiting,” she assured the creature.

“Don’t you dare pet it, Dahlia,” Nicolas warned, his heart in his throat. He wouldn’t put it past her. “You give me gray hair with the way you seem to have no fear.” He pushed a hand through his hair in agitation. “I think I’ve been more afraid since I’ve been around you than at any other time in my life. And it’s damned uncomfortable.”

She watched him shrug into his pack. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time, Nicolas.”

He didn’t answer but went past her to the cabin. A member of Gator’s family checked on it weekly, keeping the bayou creatures from invading, so the cabin was neat and tidy and the propane gas tank was full, allowing them to have hot water. Nicolas lit a few of the gas lamps rather than working on the generator. They were both tired and needed a hot shower and sleep.

In spite of the slight wound to Nicolas’s shoulder, he insisted Dahlia take the first shower. She was grateful for the warmth of the water as it washed the mud and grime from her body. There were gobs of mud in her hair, something she hated, and she shampooed it several times to make certain it was clean. Her arms ached when she lifted them to rinse the heavy mass of hair, she was that tired, and yet with the water pouring over her sensitive skin, she could imagine Nicolas’s hands and mouth following the trail of the small droplets. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the spray, hoping to wash the thought of Nicolas away. Needing to wash him away.

The door opened and she whirled around. The curtain was steamy but still transparent. Nicolas grinned at her, holding his hands up, a clean shirt in his fist. The smile faded from his face as he stood there looking at her. He cleared his throat. “I’m just getting the dirty clothes. I thought I’d wash everything and hang it up to dry. At least you’d have clean clothes. I brought you another shirt.” The entire time his hot gaze burned over her body, touched her in places so deep she thought she might melt.

“Go away, Nicolas. Right now.” She didn’t try to hide from his gaze. She didn’t want to. She wanted him looking at her, devouring her with his eyes. She was in dangerous territory, they both were, but when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t help but want him. Her voice was nearly an invitation.

“I’m going, Dahlia, but only because you’re so tired I can feel it. I’ll wash the clothes tonight. You crawl into bed, but leave room for me.” He didn’t want to turn away from her. It was hell having the ability to feel her emotions, to read how tired she was and how much her body needed to sleep.

“Do you think sharing a bed is a good idea?”

“It’s the only idea. If I can’t at least lie down beside you, I’m going to go out of my mind.”

“Have you considered that if we really made love, Nicolas, we could set the bed on fire?” Her fingers slipped over her breasts with the bar of soap. The water cascaded down to rinse the bubbles away.

Nicolas sucked in his breath. “You’re deliberately torturing me.”

“Probably,” she agreed.

He stood for a moment in silence, looking at her with far too much hunger, then he abruptly gathered up her soaked clothing and went out.

Dahlia slumped against the shower stall wall, staring after him, her body overheated and throbbing. She had no willpower when it came to Nicolas Trevane. She shouldn’t sleep in the same bed with him, dressed only in his thin shirt and nothing else, but she knew she would.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Dahlia woke to heat. To fire consuming her. The light fabric of her shirt almost hurt her ultrasensitive skin. Hands stroked her thighs, soft hair brushed along her skin. She felt the lick of heat as a tongue slid up her leg. If she were dreaming, her body thought it was real and was responding with a buildup of pressure she couldn’t begin to ignore. She turned her head and met Nicolas’s dark stare. Her heart jumped at the concentrated hunger in the depths of his gaze.