Visions in Death (In Death #19)(23)

An icy tongue of panic licked up Roarke's spine. Her eyes were wide-open, blind with shock and pain. He wasn't completely sure she was breathing. "I said wake up! "

Her body arched, and she sucked in air like a drowning woman. "My arm! He broke my arm, he broke my arm."

"No. It's a dream. Oh, baby, it's a dream. Come back now."

He trembled as much as she did as he rocked her. Catching a movement, he snapped his head up as Summerset rushed in. "No. I've got her."

"Is she injured?"

He shook his head, stroked her hair as she wept against him. "Nightmare. A bad one. I'll take care of her."

Summerset stepped back, then stopped at the door. "Get a soother in her, whatever it takes."

Nodding, Roarke waited until Summerset went out, shut the door behind him. "You're all right now. I'm right here."

"They were all there, all around me in the dark."

"It's not dark now. I've got the lights on. Do you want them brighter?"

She shook her head, burrowed into him. "I didn't help them. I didn't stop him when he came in. Like he always comes in. Her arm was broken, the little girl's arm was broken, just like mine. And he broke mine again. I felt it."

"He didn't." Roarke kissed the top of her head, eased her back even when she tried to cling. "Look here now. Eve, look here. Your arm's fine. You see?"

Though she tried to cradle it against her body, he drew it out, ran his hand gently from wrist to shoulder. "It's not broken. It was a dream."

"It was so real. I felt..." She bent her arm at the elbow, stared at it. Echoes of that phantom pain still rolled through her. "I felt it."

"I know." Hadn't he heard her scream? Hadn't he seen the glassy shock in her eyes? He kissed her hand, her wrist, her elbow. "I know. Lie back down now."

"I'm okay." Would be. "I just need to sit here a minute." She looked down as the cat wormed his way between them. Her hand wasn't quite steady when she stroked along his back. "Guess I scared the shit out of him."

"Not enough to make him bolt. He was with you, banging his head against your shoulder. Doing what he could, I'd say, to wake you."

"My hero." A tear plopped on her hand, but she was beyond being embarrassed by it. "I guess he rates some fancy fish eggs or something." She breathed deep, looked up into Roarke's eyes. "You, too."

"You're having a soother." Even as she opened her mouth to argue, he cupped her chin in his hand. "Don't argue, and for Christ's sake, don't make me pour it in you. We'll compromise this time, and split one. I damn well need it as much as you, or close to it."

She could see it now. He was so pale his eyes were like blue fire against the white of his skin. "Okay. Deal."

He got up, went over to the AutoChef, and ordered two short glasses. When he came back, she took the one he handed her. Then switched them. "Just in case you got sneaky and tranqed mine. I don't want to go out again."

"Fair enough." He tapped his glass to hers, then downed his portion. After she'd done the same, he set both glasses aside.

"I might point out, that I know you, every suspicious and cynical inch. And if I'd tranqed one of the glasses, I'd have held onto it, knowing full well you'd switch them."

She opened her mouth, shut it again. "Damn it."

"But I didn't." He leaned forward, kissed her nose. "Deal's a deal."

"Scared you. Sorry."

He took her hand again, just held onto it. "Summerset said you got home a bit before five."

"Yeah, I guess. Needed the zees." She glanced toward the window. "Must've gotten some. It's going dark. What time is it?"

"Nearly nine." He knew she wouldn't sleep again, not now. He'd have preferred it if she would. If he could just lie beside her, holding her close, while they both slept off the dregs of the nightmare.

"You could use a meal," he decided. "And so could I. Want to have it in here?"

"That works for me. I could use something else first."

"What do you want?"

She laid her hands on his face, eased up to her knees to press her lips to his. "You're better than a soother. You make me feel clean. And whole, and strong." She slid her fingers into his hair when his arms came around her. "You make me remember, and you help me forget. Be with me."

"I always am."

He kissed her temples, her cheeks, her lips. "I always will be."

She slid into him, swaying a little as they knelt on the wide bed in the half-light. The storm had passed, but something inside her still quaked from it. He would calm that. He would make it right again. She turned her head, her lips brushing his throat as she sought the taste, the scent of mate.

And finding it, she sighed.

He understood her needs, what she sought from him, sought to give him. Slow, tender, thoughtful love. There were aftershocks trembling inside him yet, but she would quell them.

His lips skimmed a line along her jaw, found hers, then sank dreamily in. Deep and quiet. And she, his strong, troubled woman, melted against him. He held her there so they drifted together into the peace, mouth to mouth, heart to heart. This time, he knew, the flutter of her pulse signaled contentment.