In the Midnight Hour (13 page)

“I’m just tired.”

He stared at her long and hard, before letting the subject go with a shake of his head. He settled into a chair and fixed his gaze on the TV, Pringles on his lap, while Ronnie stretched out across her bed, closed her eyes, and replayed the conversation with Val. The proposition.

She smiled. While Valentine’s help was for a higher purpose—to help her pass—it would also fulfill more personal needs.

The dream flashed in her mind, the feel of his hands on her body, the heat pooling in her stomach.

Geez, she had it bad. She was attracted to a
ghost
.

Mmm … As crazy as the idea sounded, it also excited her. Sacrificing her time and effort on a man when she should be concentrating, on her future was one thing. But this … this was different. Val was different. He wasn’t a man.

He was a ghost.

Handsome, sexy, and risk-free. She didn’t have to worry about falling in love, about being lured away from the path she’d chosen for herself by love, sex, or a combination of both. He was simply a ghost. Here one minute, gone the next.
Safe
. As safe as Danny, but definitely more exciting.

Val helped her, she helped him. He crossed over to the Afterlife, she aced Guidry’s class and graduated, and moved on to the rest of her career-driven life.

No getting sidetracked with a messy relationship.

She sighed and rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

“
Close your eyes
, Rouquin,” the voice whispered, and her head jerked to the side to find Danny fixated on the television. She turned the other direction and drank in the empty expanse of bed to her left. She didn’t see Val.

But she felt him.

“What about the lessons?” she whispered.

“
We’ll start tomorrow night.
Sleep well
.”

“Now how am I supposed to sleep well knowing that?”

“Did you say something?” Danny shot her a glance.

“Uh, I said I’m sleeping. I’m sleeping well.”

“Great, you need it. You’re acting punchy. Look, I’ll let myself out in a little while. Alex is about to do Double Jeopardy.” He grinned. excitement flashing in his brown eyes. “The category is ancient Egyptian rivers.”

“My personal favorite.” She closed her eyes. Not to sleep, but to think, anticipate,
feel
the warmth and heat so temptingly close. Val …

Tomorrow night
.

Chapter Seven

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Ronnie slid the top button into place and glanced in the floor-length mirror.

The ugly brown dress—an eighteenth birthday present from her Aunt Mabel and one of the few mementos Ronnie had kept from her past life—buttoned from neck to ankles, the sleeves long, concealing everything but Ronnie’s head, hands, and feet. She’d always hated the dress, but she’d loved her aunt, who’d passed on shortly afterward.

A housedress, her aunt had called it. Undoubtedly because it was large enough to fit a nice two-bedroom, two-bath, maybe even with a double-car garage.

“I’m just the student, mind you, but it seems to me undressing would be more appropriate to my paper topic. Or at least some skimpy lingerie. Something sexy. We’re talking about attracting the opposite sex, not repelling it.”

“
Exactly, and sex appeal is not about what a woman wears. It’s about the way she feels inside. Feeling sexy is the first step to ultimate sexual fulfilment. What you think here
—” Val tapped his forehead “—
sets the stage to attract the opposite sex. If you feel attractive, men will sense it. It will lure them quicker than an eyeful of cleavage
.”

“Have you been flipping the television to Dr. Ruth while I’m asleep?” She shook her head. “What am I saying? You’re the Doctor of Delight, according to those letters. You certainly don’t need a sex therapist to tell you the score.”

He frowned. “
Do you always talk so much?
”

“Actually,” she smiled, “it’s one of the things I do best. That, and I’m a whiz at receivables.”

“
That’s admirable, chérie, but neither is likely to help you pass your love course, and you’re wasting precious time. Back to the subject. Now close your eyes
.”

She obeyed. The warmth at her back grew stronger as he moved closer. The dream flashed in her mind, the sheets drifting down, his hot, wet mouth trailing over her skin. She shivered. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“
You’re jumping ahead, and even if you weren’t, I still would not kiss you
.”

Her eyes popped open. “But we have a deal—”

“
Which involves my
tutoring
you, not kissing you
. I
will tell you everything you need to know
.” He indicated the fresh notebook she’d left on the kitchen table. “
And you will write everything down
.”

“But my paper requires more than just a theory. I need documentation to support what I’m proposing.”

“
The love letters are written proof that my methods work
.”

And how. Several graphic scenarios flashed in her head and she blushed. “True, but they’re old. I have to prove that your methods work today, in the nineties. For that I need current experiments.”

“
So conduct an experiment
.”

“How can I if you don’t kiss me?”

“Not an
experiment with you as the subject, dear. I’ll tutor you and you find your own subject
.”

“Me go after a man?”

“
That would be the obvious choice, unless you’re a bit more daring than I imagined
.” His warm chuckled chased goose bumps down her arm.

“A man will do just fine.”
This
man, her dream-obsessed hormones insisted.

The trouble was, he wasn’t a man.

Val was just a ghost. Albeit a good-looking, charming, tantalizing, sexy ghost, but still a spirit, and Ronnie needed the real thing.

The dream rushed through her mind, the hot mouth working at her nipple, the purposeful fingertips tantalizing her bare flesh. If a ghost could stir so many feelings inside her, a real man would be even better. And he wouldn’t fade once three a.m. hit.

And that was the problem in a nutshell.

Val was Val. A ghost. Just this side of her imagination.
Safe
.

But she needed real.

Or did she?

A smile tugged at her lips as an idea hit her. She could be the subject, or rather a creation of her own mind. A Madame X. She could document Madame X’s journey into the realm of sexual fulfillment. But she would still need experiments.

Her gaze zeroed in on Val. Although he looked determined now, Madame X could change his mind.

“
What are you thinking?
” Val eyed her suspiciously.

“Don’t you know?”

He stared at her a full minute more before shrugging. “
Sometimes. When your defenses are down
.”

“And they’re up now?”

He nodded and she smiled. The last thing she needed was him noseying around in her thoughts all the time.

“
So what is going on in that stubborn little
mind of yours?
”

“Just that you’re right. I do need a man. If you can make me flush hot and cold, imagine what a real hunk can do.” She shivered in anticipation.

Val frowned and snapped, “Are
you ready to begin?
”

“Shoot.”

“
Don’t tempt me
.”

“Why so touchy all of a sudden?”

“I’m
not
touchy,” he muttered, so low she wondered if she’d just imagined it. “
That’s the problem
.”

As in, he
wanted
to touch her.

Of course he did. He’d endured a century and a half of celibacy. He probably salivated at the sight of one of those exercise shows, drooled while glancing through the Victoria’s Secret catalogue. He didn’t stand a chance with Madame X, the poor guy.

Ghost
, she reminded herself as she snapped her eyes shut. “Now what?”

“
Think of the first time you exploded beneath a man’s touch
.”

“But I’ve never—”

“Mais oui,
you have
, Rouquin.
In your dreams
.”

Yes, the dream.

“
Remember
.” His deep voice rumbled in her ears, stirring her senses the way his hands had brought her to such sweet ecstasy. “
Are you remembering?
”

“Yes.”

“
Good. Now tell me exactly where you are
.”

“I’m in my bed.”

“
My bed
,” he whispered.

“My bed,” she countered, and though she couldn’t see his smile, she felt it. The tension that emanated from him eased for the space of two heartbeats and his warm chuckle slid along her nerve endings before the sound faded.

“
So you’re in the bed
,” he murmured. “
Tell me what you smell
.”

She took a deep breath. Oddly enough, she didn’t smell the musty aroma of mothballs from the old brown dress. A sweet, seductive scent spiraled through her nostrils and made her chest heave.

“
Tell me
,” he urged.

“Leather and apples and something … a freshness, like water … cool water on a hot day.” She took several deep breaths and the mingling of scents wafted through her head. “It makes my nose tingle and my heart beat faster. Makes me breathe a little deeper, as if I can’t get enough.”

“
Now tell me what you feel
.”

“The soft mattress at my back,” she murmured. “A cool, cotton sheet slithering down my bare legs.” She shivered, goose bumps chasing up and down the legs in question.

“
What else, love?
”

“Incredibly hot fingertips brushing my cheeks, my collarbone, my breasts. I…” Her breath caught as she felt the sensations, the memory as intense as the dream itself. “I feel a moist heat on my—” she swallowed and summoned her courage “—my nipple.” She gasped at the memory of the fierce suckling. “I-I can feel it Right here. Right now.”

“
Can you
, chérie? Can
you feel the sweet heat stealing through your body, stirring an ache deep in your belly? A hunger?
”

She nodded.

“
Tell me what you want
.”

Nothing
. The denial poised on the tip of her tongue. Veronica Parrish wanted nothing except an accounting degree and a successful career.

Usually.

But at that moment, she wanted something entirely different, and, for the first time, she couldn’t deny what she felt, no matter how much she suddenly wanted to.

“
Tell me
,” he urged, his voice so compelling it overrode her defenses.

“To be touched,” she admitted, licking her lips. “To be tasted, just like in the dream. I want it so much. I…” Her words drowned in his sharp intake of breath. Banked tension held his body tight.

His voice, usually so deep and smooth and seductive, came out raw and ragged. “
Open your eyes
.”

Her gaze collided with his in the mirror and she saw the heat in his eyes, the desire so fierce it took her breath away.

“
Look at yourself
.”

Her gaze went to the woman staring back at her, and this time she didn’t notice the ugly dress, but the woman beneath it. Her eyes appeared heavy-lidded, her lips parted, the bottom slightly more prominent and slick from the slow glide of her tongue a moment ago. She looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed after a night of …

Dreams
. Delicious, intoxicating, erotic dreams.

“
See how your mouth quivers, how the blush colors your cheeks. Feel how your nipples press achingly against the dress. You’re beautiful, Veronique
,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Desirable. Sexy.”

And for the first time in her life, Ronnie felt sexy, and it was okay. For the first time in years she stopped worrying about burying her sexuality where it couldn’t interfere with her career plans. The knowledge made her stand a bit taller and forced her gaze to meet his.

“
You must recognize the passion in your soul before you can share that passion with someone. You’re a woman, an Eve
in
the Garden, a gift to mankind. The most precious, passionate, delectable gift a man could receive
.”

Desire blazed in his eyes and she felt the tension rolling off him, as if he fought hard to keep from reaching out.

She turned to face him. “So now are we going to kiss?”

“Mmm,” he murmured as his head dipped toward her. He stopped a fraction shy and she parted her lips, begging him forward.

Bam. Bam. Bam.