Dark Possession (28 page)

She closed her eyes when her feet left the floor. He took her breath so easily, shaking her up until she forgot about being MaryAnn the counselor and became, wholly and completely, MaryAnn the woman. The hollow of his neck was warm and inviting, and she nuzzled his shirt aside so her face could rest against his skin. Her lips moved against him, tasting him, because she could. Because when she did, a shudder of pleasure shook his strong body.

The night was surprisingly warm. As he whisked her through the forest, she could hear all sound cease, as animals, birds and insects became aware of their presence. A shiver went down her spine as she realized they were sensing a predator. It was impossible not to feel alive with him. He created energy, both sensual and exciting, most of all dangerous, and wrapped her in his voracious sexual appetite for her, his need for her elevating her own needs and desires.

For all of that, his looks and his sensuality, it wasn’t her virtue in the most jeopardy, because he was a good man and her heart responded with the same passion as her body. The biggest risk was letting him into her heart. He gave of himself so quickly to others, without thought of consequences to himself, and no other trait in a man could appeal to her quite so much. He was starkly honest about everything, and that appealed to her as well. He showed her vulnerability when he told her about seeing and hearing things from another world. He let her inside of him without reservation.

And just like that you open your mind to me.

She felt warm, as if he’d enfolded her in a velvet wrap. “Did I?”

If she did, she hadn’t thought about the danger of opening her mind. Only her heart. She kept her face buried in the hollow of his neck, feeling safe as they moved through the sky.

Look now, MaryAnn.

“I’m afraid of heights.”

She was afraid of loving what he showed her. Afraid of loving this man and changing her life—one she’d worked so hard for—forever. She just really enjoyed her little niche. She knew she helped others; she was good at it, and she liked her independence. And there was that very frightening thing inside of her, something that terrified her, one she kept locked away, but it was drawn to this man. In the city, surrounded by people and the hustle and bustle of life, it stayed quiet and under her control. Here, with this man, she could feel it stretching and reaching inside of her, anxious for freedom. And she didn’t dare let it free.

His lips brushed the top of her head.
You will not be afraid, I promise you. You will see my world the way I see it.

She closed her eyes briefly and pressed tighter into him. That was
exactly
what she feared. She didn’t want to see beauty in the rain forest. She wanted to see the insects. Lots of nasty, biting insects. And leeches. They had leeches, she just knew it. When she looked, she’d dwell on that. It was the only way she could think of to stay safe. Armed with a picture of big, fat, blood-sucking bugs, she cautiously raised her head and looked around her.

They were in the canopy of a huge tree, vines tangling rapidly beneath them to form a solid deck. The vines continued to twist and climb, adding a solid railing so she could walk around in the treetops and feel as if she were on rooftops in her hometown. He slowly let her out of his arms, watching her turn her face to the sky.

MaryAnn caught her breath as she looked around her. Mist looked like diamonds falling across a midnight sky. Stars scattered and sparkled, tiny crystals glittering everywhere she looked. Up so high, she felt she might touch the moon. It wasn’t close to being full, but it was a magical sight. She crossed to the railing, holding firmly with both hands, and looked beneath her. She saw treetops, leaves shining silver instead of green, branches forming highways for animals; the flutter of wings, the moonbeams catching the colors of feathers as the birds settled in for the night. Tendrils of fog wound in and out of the tree trunks, adding to the mystery and beauty.

She turned back to him, resting against the railing as she drank in the sight of him. He belonged to the night. A lord or a prince. The strong bones gave his face a noble, masculine appearance, and that molded mouth held a hint of both sensuality as well as cruelty. Danger and passion. She pressed her hand to her stomach to quell the butterfly wings.

“It is beautiful, Manolito. Thank you for bringing me here.”

There was no smell of blood or death. No horror in the eyes of young women. There was only the night and Manolito.

She smiled at him. “I feel the mist, yet it isn’t cold and my clothes aren’t wet.”

“I am Carpathian. I can control such things.” He waved his hand, and the leaves began to tangle with flowers, forming a solid bed, thick and soft and inviting.

Her heart jumped in anticipation.

“Why do you wear your hair in such a tight braid? It’s so beautiful, all the curls and waves and the color of it shining in the moonlight. Let it down.” His hand went to the fastener holding her hair in some semblance of control.

She caught his hands to stop him. “I have natural curl, Manolito. In this weather my hair would be huge and kinky, and with no stylist around, I’d be in serious trouble.”

“It’s wild and beautiful.” His fingers were busy stripping the band from her hair.

“You don’t understand. It’s wild all right. I could use tons of products to hold it in place, but the mist would wash them right down my face and into my eyes and that would sting and streak and be a huge mess. So leave it.” She tried to sound tough, but it was impossible with the feel of his fingers tugging her hair out of the braid. She only succeeded in sounding breathless.

“I like the skirt. Thank you for remembering for me.”

She had put it on for him. She was giving too much of herself away, but she wouldn’t be less honest than he was being. The skirt and blouse were not only ultrafeminine, but made her feel sexy and desirable as well. She wanted to feel that way for him. She wanted him to see her that way.

“It’s one of my favorites.” Was that her voice? She sounded more seductive than he did, and she didn’t want that. She wanted to know him. She wanted a chance at—
everything.

Her hair was out of the braid now, flowing around her face and shoulders. He reached under it to cup the back of her neck, his thumb sliding over her skin, as if savoring the feel of it. There was an unexpected tenderness in his touch. She could feel heat all the way down to her toes. It was suddenly difficult to breathe.

“Does your leg hurt?”

The memory of his mouth on her leg, the feel of his tongue rasping over her skin, sent another wave of arousal washing through her body. She shook her head, afraid to speak, when his thumb smoothed over her ear and teased a shiver down her spine.

“Come lie down with me, look at the stars while we talk.”

She wasn’t certain she could speak when it came right down to it, not without babbling or, worse, pleading for his touch.

She sank rather gingerly onto the bed of leaves and flowers, trying to hold the image of leeches in her mind, but the flowers gave off a wonderful fragrance and the bed was as soft as the best mattress she’d ever lain on. Because she was afraid, she stayed in a sitting position.

Manolito caught her calf in his hands, drew down the zipper to her boot and pulled it off. “You may as well be comfortable, MaryAnn.”

There was a command in the firm touch of his fingers, but gentleness in his voice. She made no objection, just let him remove the boots and set them aside so she could draw her knees up. He sent her a faint, mocking smile and stretched out, fingers laced behind his head.

“I thought I’d be afraid up here,” she admitted, to break the silence. To find a safe subject.

“You are afraid.”

“This is an unusual situation.” She snuck a peek at him over her shoulder. He lay like an offering, casual and lazy and very deceptive when she could feel heat radiating off his body, when she could see the ripple of muscle and the bulge he didn’t bother to hide. His features were stamped with raw desire, his eyes devouring her.

He brought one arm down to his side, the fingers curling against her thigh, rubbing back and forth through the thin royal blue silk. “I am your lifemate, MaryAnn, your husband. There is no need to fear the things I want from you. Like your hair and your skin and whatever dwells within you, what is between us is as natural as breathing.”

“I don’t know you well enough to give you that kind of trust. A woman like me needs to trust a man completely to give herself to him like you’re asking.”

“I do not ask.” There was a faint smile in his voice.

For a moment she thought he was saying he didn’t want her, but then she realized he meant he would demand what he wanted from her. She rubbed her chin on the top of her knees, contemplating instructing him in human law.

The fingers along her thigh bunched in her skirt, continuing to slide up and down in mesmerizing strokes. “I am not human,
sivamet
, and more than anything else, I wish to bring pleasure to my woman. What is wrong with that?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“Maybe I don’t want that.”

His laughter was low and sexy, playing over her body with the same mesmerizing stroke as his fingers. “But you do. It is what you fear most, but it is also what you want most. As I know you are safe in my keeping, there is no reason to deny you what you want—or need.”

“I’m afraid that may take some time.” His touch was light, but the heated silk against her skin made her muscles bunch in reaction.

“I do not think so, MaryAnn. When you lie beneath me, when my body is in yours, you trust me more than when we are apart.”

Color swept up her neck and into her face before she could control it. She couldn’t deny it. She would have done anything he asked of her. She
had
and more. But it was too much, too soon. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. “I’m not ready yet.”

“Fair enough.”

His answer was so unexpected she turned to look at him. It was a mistake. His black eyes glittered with possession, with raw lust.

He patted the mattress of flowers. “Lie down beside me. We’ll talk.”

There was no hint of compulsion in his voice, at least she didn’t think so, but she still found herself lying down beside him. Thigh to thigh. Hip to hip. She stared up at the sky and watched the mist sparkling above them and searched for a topic that would lead to a real discussion, one that might reveal more of who and what he was.

“Do you like living here?”

“I have grown to call this land home. I love everything about it. The rain forest, the cattle ranch, the people, even the horses. I was not the best of riders when we first began ranching.” He laughed softly at the memory. “I have not thought of that time in years. We knew nothing at all, but wanted to appear human. Fortunately, we had the Chavez family to aid us. We had the money and they had the knowledge. We have worked closely ever since.”

“I would have liked to see your first ride on a horse.”

“I did not spend a lot of time in the saddle. I wished to be macho like the Chavez brothers so I didn’t use my mind to control the horse.”

She relaxed a little, laughter bubbling up. “I wish I’d been there.”

The pads of his fingers traced the shape of her thigh. “I am very glad you weren’t. Unless you had controlled the animal for me.”

“That would have been interesting, and very tempting, although I have no idea why you think I have psychic ability.”

“Because you do.”

“If I do, how can I not be aware of it, yet everyone else is? What exactly do I do psychically?”

His fingers once again began that steady caressing through the silk of her skirt. “You are actually quite powerful. You gather energy and use it when you need it. I think you have been doing so all of your life, probably since you were a child, so it is normal to you. Completely natural. Like your hair.” His hand slid up to the intriguing curls. He tugged gently, just enough to bite at her scalp.

She felt the pull through her body, a flash of heat she couldn’t deny or control. “I don’t do that.” She didn’t think she did. “How would I even use something I don’t know about? How would it work?”

His hand slid from her hair down her arm to her wrist. He circled it lightly as if his fingers were a living bracelet. “If I knew that,
päläfertiil
, I would never be concerned about you knocking me on my rear.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.” He brought her hand to his mouth to scrape his teeth over her palm. “It was a good jolt, too. I was proud of you—once I got over the fact that my woman had slapped me down.” His tongue swirled over the exact center of her palm, easing the tiny sting of his nipping teeth.

“You’re very oral, aren’t you,” she said, tugging at her hand. He didn’t let go, and the sensation of his mouth, hot and moist, closing tightly over her finger sent flames dancing across her skin straight to the junction between her legs.

“Very,” he admitted, his voice dropping low, his black gaze burning through the thin material of her blouse to her full breasts as they rose and fell with the fast tempo of her breathing.

She licked her lips again and stifled a groan when his gaze jumped to her mouth. “Stay on track here, Manolito. I really want to figure out how I could be psychic.” Because she was fast losing her ability to think with her brain.

“Of course you’re psychic. You can read people, and you know exactly what to say to them to help them find their way.”

She laughed. “I was hoping for a real revelation, not fantasy. I went to school a very long time to become a counselor. Whether or not I’m any good has nothing to do with being psychic. I’m trained and I have a lot of experience.”

“You are able to get inside their heads. You think it is instinct, and maybe that is another word for your talent. You act a lot on intuition.” He turned her hand over and bit gently at her knuckles. “We could use a little instinct right now.”

“I don’t think psychic ability is much good if you don’t know how you’re using it,” she protested. If she really did have some talent, it would be kind of cool, but not if she couldn’t wield it properly. “I can connect with you because of the blood thing, but can’t really do much else.”