In the Midnight Hour (28 page)

“
You know I do not eat mortal food
.” His voice came out as little more than a hoarse whisper.

“I wasn’t talking about the ice cream.” She winked and touched her tongue provocatively to the decadent dessert before swallowing the bite.

With a long, deep, pleasurable groan, she gave up the spoon for a larger one and scooped ice cream into a bowl, then reached for the fudge syrup. A huge drop dribbled down the side, slid over her fingers. She caught the thick sauce with her tongue. “Mmm,” she murmured, licking the chocolate free of her skin and watching him swallow. Hard. “I think I’ve found my next fantasy.”

“
No more fantasies
,” he groaned.

“Ah, but I think this will be my best one yet.” One determined to send him over the edge, because she was tired of waiting on Valentine Tremaine. She was frustrated and she wanted relief.

She scooped a dollop of sauce with the tip of her finger and slid it into her mouth. “Mmm,” she murmured, suckling as she watched him. And he watched her. And the air around them sparked. “Ahhh,” she pulled her glistening finger free. “I just love my sundaes with warm, thick fudge sauce.” She scooped more sauce and suckled. Scooped and suckled. Scooped and—

“
We’ll move on to touching. Just
—” he grabbed her hand and pulled it free of her mouth, his skin burning into hers “—
don’t do that. Please don’t do that
.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Pretty please?”

He let her go abruptly. “
Damn woman, but you’re maddening
.”

“And you’re stubborn.”

“
Infuriating
.”

“Bull-headed.”

“
Aggravating
.”

“A pain in the—” she started, but his voice cut her off.

“
Truce,” he growled. “Let us call a truce and get on with tonight’s lesson
.”

“Touching,” she declared triumphantly.

“
Hand-holding
,” he corrected.

Hand-holding? That wasn’t what she had in mind at all. “I’d rather have a sundae.” She reached for the can of whipped cream. A press of the nozzle, and foamy sweetness squirted on top of the ice cream. “You know,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips, “I’ve always wanted to try this stuff on more than just ice cream—”

“
Forget hand-holding
.” He snatched the can from her before she could demonstrate the “more.” “
Real touching
.”

She put her hands on her hips and eyed him. “How real?”

“
We’ll pick up where we left off after the kissing. Ear nibbling, then the neck lick, then
…” He swallowed. “
We’ll move down from there
.”

“You mean move on.”

His eyes gleamed with a wicked light. “
I mean down
.”

“Oh.” Heat flooded her cheeks despite the fact that this was what she’d been asking for. Hoping for.

Her gaze caught with Val’s and she saw the heat simmering in his gaze, the desire, the want, the … hesitation.

She wanted to ask him why, but something in his eyes, a deep sadness, a fear, kept her from opening her mouth. The less she knew, the less she would care, and she couldn’t care. Not real
caring
.

Lust. Just lust.

“You don’t have to break your No Virgin rule, Val.” What was she saying? That as much as she wanted him, she didn’t want him to break a vow that obviously meant a great deal to him. “We’re talking touching, not deflowering. I might be inexperienced, but I know enough to know there’s a world of difference between the two.”

“
Just touching?
”

“Touching,” she reassured him. Before she could dwell on her sudden change of heart, Danny’s loud singing voice carried from the bathroom. Ronnie’s gaze shifted to the closed door. “No more using Danny. You’re the tutor, so you do the nibbling and licking.”

He nodded.

Worry furrowed her brow as Danny launched into a rather loud version of the Rolling Stones’ “Start Me Up.” “He’s all right, isn’t he? I mean, he lives for classical music.”

“
He still likes classical, he’s just discovering his wild side
.”

“Danny doesn’t have a wild side.”

“
He does now. One of the side effects of possession
.”

“Side effects? His head isn’t going to start spinning around, is it?”

“More
like twitching
.” An all-male grin curved Val’s handsome face as he slid back into his sexy, charming self. “
And growing and throbbing and
—”

“I get the picture.” Ronnie’s cheeks flamed. “So this wild side is courtesy of your possession?”

He nodded, his smile fading into tired acceptance. “
During the possession, I must suppress his spirit with my own. The entire process is very tiring for me, more so because when I exit his body, in my weakened state, it’s impossible not to leave some of my energy behind
.”

“Like paying rent.”

“
In a way
.” He collapsed into a nearby chair. “
I get the pleasure of a physical form, and he gets a boost of energy when I leave
.”

“Will he remember tonight? The kiss?”

“
The kiss isn’t his memory, love. It’s mine
.” One Val wasn’t likely to forget for a long, long time. Unfortunately.

Veronica smiled at him. “Because you want me.”

“
Because I am a dedicated teacher
.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, and then a pillow caught him in the chest.

His eyes snapped open and he frowned at her. “
What was that for?
”

Fire danced in her eyes. “For tricking me and for taking advantage of poor Danny.”

“
I saved you from the worst kiss of your life
.”

“It’s a wonder your head isn’t as big as that bed. You’re so full of yourself.”

Danny sang louder and Val barely suppressed the urge to cover his ears. “
Actually, I’m not nearly as full as I usually am. Your friend is now enjoying my energy
.”

She cast another glance at the closed bathroom door, and a frown worried her brow anew when Danny launched into a very loud, very off-key version of George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex.” “So what’s going to happen to him?”

“
Well
,” Val said, settling back in the chair, arms folded over his chest, a cat-who-got-the-canary smile on his face, “I’d say about three or four inches.”

Ten
. Danny shook his head the next morning and stared down at the monster erection that had greeted him the moment he’d opened his eyes. He was a solid six and a half after a really good wet Wanda dream, maybe seven after a few hours of sitting beside her and smelling her perfume. But ten? And after a night of sound sleep?

He slapped the ruler onto the nightstand, grabbed the bottle of Excite and Energize, and stared at the ingredients. An all-natural herb and vitamin blend. No steroids or testosterone supplements. Nothing but good, old-fashioned Mother Nature.

As happy as he was at this morning’s discovery, he was even happier when things calmed down a bit. After all, knowing the equipment worked properly and conducting a demonstration for his entire mechanical engineering class were two different things. It was enough to know he was capable.

The knowledge made him stand a little taller and put some strut into his walk. Danny Boudreax strutting?

Hell, stranger things could happen. Like Terry Lynn Wilhelm, the hottest babe in his physics class, could smile at him.

She smiled at him throughout the entire lecture, and approached him at the end of class to ask him out for coffee at the Student Union Building.

Coffee? Yes! No woman had ever asked him out for anything, except Bebe Larue, freshman year, who’d needed help on her biology project, then Janie Freeman, who’d asked him to be her lab partner in sophomore chemistry, and Wanda, who’d needed a tutor. But coffee? As in being seen together socially? As in
date
?

“Maybe some other time,” he found himself saying, despite the sudden twitch in his groin area and his libido chanting
Go for it!

He would, but not with Terry or any of the other women who made a point of smiling at him or saying hi or accidentally brushing up against him.

Tonight was his first date with Wanda. Probably a fluke on her part, but Danny intended to make the most of her moment of temporary insanity. As attractive as he found other women, as much as he enjoyed their sudden attention courtesy of his new vitamins, he only wanted one. Wanda.

The question was, did she want him?

She wanted his dessert.

He sat by and watched as Wanda took a bite of his chocolate-covered cheesecake.

“This is so good. I love cheesecake. Unfortunately, it loves me. My thighs anyway.”

“I can see why.” His gaze traveled to her pink miniskirt, carefully molding to her sleek legs.

“Are you flirting with me, Danny?”

“I’m just telling the truth. You’ve got great legs. Almost as great as your eyes.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you have really great eyes. They … sparkle.”

She actually blushed. Confident, every-man-wants-me Wanda blushed. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. What I mean is, most guys don’t make it above the neck, if you know what I mean.”

“I can’t believe that. You’re beautiful, but you’re also intelligent. That’s what shows in your eyes.”

She smiled. “Say that again.”

“Beautiful.”

“No. The other part.”

“Intelligent.”

She closed her eyes as if savoring the word. “You know, I almost believe it when you say it.”

“You should. It’s true.”

“You really think so?”

“I’ve always thought so. You’re smart, Wanda. You just don’t know it, and knowledge is power.”

The smile she gave him was worth the hundred bucks he’d shelled out for dinner. It was worth the numberless nights he’d spent keeping his eyes open so he could drag himself over to her dorm room and play the devoted tutor. Just that smile, meant for him, only him, meant more than if she’d stripped herself naked, climbed onto his plate, and offered herself up as dessert.

Okay, so he wouldn’t go that far. He was, after all, a guy, and he’d dreamt of her for too long to be content with a smile. But the night was young and Danny was determined.

He wanted her to want him more than those thick-necked jocks she dated. More than his chocolate-covered cheesecake.

More
.

Every woman wanted Valentine Tremaine.

Val replayed that all-important fact throughout the evening while he waited for Ronnie to finish up her shift at the library. Last night, he’d managed to put off their first “touching” lesson thanks to her friend Danny, who’d been singing so loud that old Mr. Weatherby had knocked on the door to complain that the noise was making Pringles nervous.

By the time his sweet Veronica had managed to placate the old man and send her jubilant friend home, it had been nearly three a.m. Val had made the excuse—a very real excuse, after the draining possession—of being exhausted, and so the lesson had been put off until tonight.

He alternated between pacing the room, picking up after Veronica, and staring at the TV.

Every
woman, he told himself again.

It was a fact of nature. Like the earth being round. The sky being blue. Ronnie’s interest in him shouldn’t be so … unsettling. Arousing. Exciting.

He’d spent a lifetime being the object of female attention, the fuel for their desire, the star of their fantasies, and never once had the knowledge affected him as it did now.

Of course, he hadn’t been celibate for one hundred and fifty years back then. He’d been used to women wanting him and was grateful for it, intent on using it to his advantage. To make a precious child. He’d been merely determined back then. Not desperate, and deprived.

That had to account for his temporary memory loss, for the blurred images of his past. He tried to recall hot, erotic memories, and, while the situations came forth, he didn’t see the women with whom he’d shared the pleasure. He saw Veronica Parrish.

In his bed.

Down by his river.

Stretched out on the velour seat of his carriage.

Sprawled on a bed of soft hay in his barn.

Standing in her miniature kitchen, eating an ice cream sundae as if she’d never tasted anything better.

Desperation. That was it, because no way could Valentine Tremaine, a man who’d slept with … How many had he slept with again?

A lot, he finally concluded after a few minutes of intense, futile contemplation. Numerous.

And he had proof. Dozens of letters, written by women whom he’d bedded, faces he couldn’t remember, names that lingered just beyond his mind’s recollection.