Tempting Nora (10 page)

"Do you need help climbing up?" Gideon's eyes flickered toward the
bed of the truck.

Help? Heck no. She was Nora Williams. She could climb with the best of them…Well, okay, maybe not with the best of them, but she could climb.

She tried to clamber onto the truck bed. A lot of grunting and sweating later, she finally managed to scramble up. It had been a lot harder than she thought. Chuckling in amusement, Gideon climbed up with a lot more grace. As he sat beside her, she found herself watching him yet again.

His dark hair
hung in his face and his caramel eyes glowed despite how dark the night was. She'd never realized it before, but there was something unnatural about Gideon's handsomeness. He looked almost inhuman. Even his faults—his nose was a tad crooked and his adam's apple was a bit too pronounced—only heightened the allure of his impossible good looks. It was near impossible to look at Gideon without feeling an electric current pulsing through her veins.

Just as she was about to look up at the sky
—it would make a great distraction—the other man turned his head and made eye contact with her. She was gone, floating in a sea of decadent caramel. It was his eyes that made him near impossible to resist. They were like the desserts she so loved—they tempted her, telling her to give in. Suddenly, she was so sweaty that her black t-shirt clung to her body. As she chewed her bottom lip, Gideon stroked her cheek. His thumb was warm and large.

This is wrong
, a voice whispered in her head.

Yet as wrong as it was, she found herself shutting her eyes when the other man leaned closer. When
his lips brushed hers, heat the likes of which she'd never felt before rushed through her veins. His mouth was warm and gentle against hers. She realized he was testing the waters, making sure she wasn't going to hit him. For a second her hand twitched as she had the fleeting urge to do so, but when he deepened the kiss, her arm fell slack at her side.

The man tasted like chocolate. And not just cheap, crappy chocolate. Oh no, he tasted like the good stuff; the kind
that she special ordered from France for occasions like her birthday. How could anyone resist a man who tasted like chocolate? She groaned against his lips, opening her mouth wider if only to taste him more. That was all the incentive that Gideon needed to stop being gentle.

In a display of full male power, Gideon
pushed her down onto the blanket. She gasped in shock. How the heck had she ended up on her back so fast? Before she could say or do anything more, Gideon's mouth covered hers again. This time, his lips were rough and demanding. His kiss, more glorious than any she'd experienced before, dripped with passion. Between the taste of chocolate and the fierce, all-consuming power of his embrace, she was left completely breathless.

Was this how kisses were supposed to feel? When she
'd kissed Kevin, Tyler, and Robert, she'd felt disgusted. Kevin's lips had been wet and his tongue had slapped against her cheek. She'd half wondered whether he was doing a Mr. Fleas interpretation. Then there had been Tyler. The man had been sucking on her bottom lip more than kissing. Not a great experience. And kissing Robert would always be wrong. He was simply not boyfriend material. 

But this was not disgusting or wrong. In fact, it was so, so right.

She found herself digging her fingers into Gideon's back, loving the way his hard chest pressed against her own. When he kissed her, he did so with his whole body. Beneath the weight of his form, she felt immobilized in the most wonderful of ways. He was all power, all masculine heat and intensity, which she discovered she wanted a lot more than she'd realized. And his mouth! Good grief, the man knew how to use his mouth. As his lips brushed over hers, she found herself writhing, half fearing she was going to float away due to the pleasure of it all.

That was when Gideon pulled back and grinned down at her.

"Wake up now," Gideon said.

"Huh?" She blinked stupidly.

"Wake up."

Nora awoke with a gasp, clutching her chest. At first she couldn't figure out
what was going on. There had been an awful lot of kissing, a little groping, and then…

"Wake up now."
Gideon's voice echoed in her mind.

She'd dreamed about Gideon. And it hadn't been just any dream. She'd dreamed he was kissing her—and she'd liked it.

"No, I don't want to kiss Gideon!" She gasped in horror.

Mr. Fleas, who'd been sleeping on the bed, leapt to his feet and gave her the dirtiest look she'd ever seen. In her half crazed state, she felt like the dog was
judging her. Even though she knew that the only one judging her was herself, she couldn't shake off her paranoia. She started to rock back and forth, trying to get her bearings straight.

"A nightmare," she
said. "Yeah, it was just a nightmare."

But nightmares w
eren't supposed to feel so good.

As she let out a groan, she tried to use logic in order to soothe herself.
First off, it wasn't that surprising she'd dreamed about Gideon. The man was gorgeous. Even she, who wanted to keep him at arm's length, couldn't deny that. Also, he was pursuing her. Last night, he'd been on her mind when she went to bed because of his phone call. It was only natural that she'd have some sort of dream about him. It wasn't like she could control the way she felt when she was asleep anyway. Just because she dreamed about kissing Gideon didn't mean she liked the guy or anything. It just meant that she was a human being capable of being attracted to somebody. As long as she didn't make a move in real life, she would be fine.

With a groan, she
tried to sleep again. Unfortunately, the moment she closed her eyes, she imagined Gideon's face looming closer.  Her eyes snapped open.

"Stop it
." She flailed in bed. "I'm not a pervert."

The next-door neighbor
, Henry, pounded on the wall. The man had heard her. As her blood ran cold, she buried her face in her hands. The last thing she wanted was for the neighbor to think she was a raging pervert. Clamping her hand over her mouth in self-disgust, she shook her head and retreated to the bathroom. She was going to punish herself with a freezing shower and then she was going to watch crappy TV until dawn to get her mind off of her dream.

****

At three o'clock in the morning, Nora's eyelids were heavy, but she refused to let herself fall asleep again. She couldn't risk having another dream about Gideon. Icky spiders, spooky ghosts, and bloody zombies were less frightening than the thought of Gideon pressing his mouth against hers. She shivered in horror and shook her head. No, she wouldn't let herself sleep again. At least, not tonight.

As she g
nashed her teeth, Chubby hopped onto the couch at her side. Mr. Fleas was nowhere to be seen, but she was ninety-nine percent sure he was snoring on the bed. While she watched TV, she petted the fat feline. The cat was furry, soft, and cold…Wait a second, cold? She leapt to her feet and looked down. Chubby stared up at her with a prideful gleam in his eyes. Between his front paws was a dead rat that she was pretty sure she'd just been petting.

As she gasped in horror, she grasped the couch to keep herself from falling over.

"Not a rat," she said.

Chubby cocked his head, appearing
offended that she didn't accept his disgusting gift with cries of joy.

"Gross, gross, gross, gross."
She squirmed in disgust.

She rushed into the kitchen, tempted to chop off her own hand. After all, she'd
just been petting a dead rat. The thing was probably more diseased than Gideon. Since she decided against self-mutilation, she scourged her skin until her fingers ached. After she'd cleaned her hands a good twenty times—her fingertips had even started to wrinkle—she decided she wasn't going to contract a deadly disease. Unfortunately, now she had to take care of the corpse.

Grimacing, she
seized a wad of paper towels and inched toward the living room as if the dead animal might rise and attack. Using the napkin, she grabbed the cold rat by the tail and whimpered. How had Chubby managed to catch the rodent anyway? He was so fat he could barely fit in his litter box, let alone manage to hunt down another creature.

With a sigh, she trudged to the kitchen and wrapped the carcass in six plastic bags.
After she was certain that there would be no skin-to-corpse contact on the journey to the dumpster, her shoulders slumped in relief. Didn't Chubby know that a dead rat wasn't exactly the best present to give to a lady?

Feeling her stomach curl in disgust, she headed for the door. The moment she wrapped her fingers around the knob, a loud yelp cam
e from behind her followed by an angry hiss. She whirled around, her eyes wide, just as Mr. Fleas charged out of the bedroom as fast as his legs could carry him. Loud yelps burst from his mouth as he rushed into the living room.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
Not this again. What the heck is going on?
The rat slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. She ran into the living room just in time to watch Mr. Fleas snarl in rage. The dog may have been tiny, but he was channeling the fierceness of a beast ten times his size. The Chihuahua leapt in front of her, growling at something in the corner she couldn't see. It was almost like he was trying to protect her.

As the dog's lips curled back over his tiny white teeth, she h
eard a deep, guttural growl come from Chubby. The cat's fur stood on end, making his fat body appear even fatter. The feline's ears were back as he watched something a foot away from her with his eyes narrowed.

The thing that frightened her more than the dog's loud barking and the cat's alarm
ed yowl was the fact that both creatures were staring at the same corner. It wasn't like animals could say to one another, "Hey, let's freak out our human by pretending to see something we don't." No, both Chubby and Mr. Fleas were frightened of the same thing. And now she was too.

It was a strange
feeling to fear something invisible. She wondered if it was crazy that she was so scared tears threatened to burst from her eyes.
I have to get Mr. Fleas and Chubby out of here.
Maybe she could have escaped by herself, but her animals were like her children. If there was something in this apartment to be frightened of, then she sure as heck wasn't going to leave Mr. Fleas and Chubby inside with it.

"Come here, Mr. Fleas," she said.

Mr. Fleas was hopping back and forth, his ears pinned to his head as he growled. He paid no attention to her.

"Mr. Fleas,
come," she cried.

When she took a step forward to grab Mr. Fleas, the dog darted out of her reach and charged at
the corner. Several events happened in quick succession—a shadow darted across the wall, a picture fell off the desk with a thud, and then everything grew still. Mr. Fleas let out one last yap and then shook himself off, his sides covered in sweat. Chubby let out a frightened mew and headed over to her, his orange eyes wide.

She
felt sick to her stomach. It was near impossible to fathom what had just happened.
Maybe the shadow was a figment of my imagination,
she thought hopefully. She knew full well what her imagination was capable of when she was all alone in the dark. After seeing something scary, she was often plagued by her own mind gone berserk. She'd spend the night in bed, convinced she was about to be beamed into an alien ship or slaughtered by a masked murderer. She hoped what she'd just seen, like her other horrible imaginings, was all in her mind.

Yeah, right.

The evidence of what had happened was right in front of her. The picture that had been knocked down still lay on the floor. Chubby was standing beside her, meowing in a distressed way that was unlike him. Mr. Fleas was no longer attacking the invisible force, but he looked like he was on his guard in case the intruder came back. Something had happened, no matter how much she wished to deny it.

I should call Robert,
she thought, then froze mid-step. No, she couldn't call him. It was almost like…like…she'd seen a ghost or something. If she tried to explain that to Robert, he'd think she'd gone insane. While she would rather blame what she'd witnessed on her own insanity—anything was better than the invisible presence being real—that wasn't possible.

With her stomach churning, she slid down the wall and fought down the urge to cry. Her entire
adult life, she'd never minded being on her own. She'd always been able to handle herself just fine. But now, she was scared—and she realized just how horrifying having nobody to turn to could really be. 

Chapter Eight

That afternoon, Nora sat in front of her laptop, drumming her fingers on her desk. Mr. Fleas was gnawing on a large bone she'd bought him because of his bravery. Who knew that her small, quivering Chihuahua had the heart of a lion? Since Chubby couldn't be left out, the cat had received a bunch of kitty treats. Even now, the fat feline sat on her bed, chewing hungrily as he stared at her. Despite their rewards, both animals seemed on edge. It was just as well. She was on edge too.

"Okay." Nora
chewed her bottom lip and opened her laptop. "Just because I do research on what I saw doesn't mean I believe in any of this paranormal stuff, right?"

She wasn't sure who she was directing her question to, Mr. Fleas or Chubby. Either way, Chubby blinked twice and Mr. Fleas stopped gnawing
on his bone long enough to lick her ankle. She was going to take that as an affirmative.

As her jaw tensed
, she went to a search engine and typed, 'Black shadow, seeing things, and animals being frightened.' Sure enough, she had zillions of results. A couple of links were comical. One website even suggested that she had a gnome living in her closet. Luckily, she managed to find a resource with less iffy information. She clicked the website link and saw information dedicated to demonic hauntings. Normally, she would have laughed, but after what she'd witnessed last night, she was accosted by chills. She read through the first page and chewed her bottom lip.

Demonic Hauntings

Demonic hauntings are a rare and dangerous type of haunting.
This type of paranormal activity is caused by a spirit that is not human and has never been human. These demons, otherwise known as fallen angels, blame the humans who dwell on the earth for their fall from heaven. Their sheer goal is to hurt as many people as possible to get revenge. Their hateful nature is what makes this type of haunting the most frightening.

A fallen angel will appear as a black shadow, unlike all other types of hauntings that usually appear as a flash of light or an orb.
Victims of fallen angels will often be scratched and maimed while they sleep. Demons will use profanities, hiss, speak in foreign tongues, kick, hit, and manipulate humans. They will also torture animals since they find harming all life forms to be amusing. Oftentimes these demons will first reveal themselves to you in small ways—knocking over objects, whispering. As time goes by, the attacks will grow more violent. Keep in mind that a person can be haunted just as easily as a house. In order to prevent a demonic haunting, people are urged to refrain from using Ouija boards, as they are particularly dangerous.

Nora froze, feeling like she'd been kicked in the face. Fallen angels? That was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard! And yet she couldn't forget the fear she'd seen in her dog's eyes as he chased down the shadow. Chubby had been terrified as well. Then there were her emotions. She felt like she was being watched constantly. Maybe when she thought she was being stalked by a man, she was being stalked by a demon.

A hysterical laugh burst from her lips
. As she tried to stifle herself, she heard somebody ring her doorbell. For a moment the image of a demon with cloven hooves filled her mind, but that was a ridiculous thought. If the arrival was really a fallen angel, would he bother to use the doorbell? Yeah, right! Her paranoia was getting out of hand.

She hopped to her feet and headed to the door. Mr. Fleas
followed behind her, his tongue lulling out of his mouth. Chubby hopped off the bed, but instead of accompanying her down the hall, he lingered in the living room. When she opened the door, she froze when she saw Gideon standing on her welcome mat. He looked as gorgeous as ever in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt that clung to every last flawless muscle, and a leather jacket. She was painfully aware that she was in torn pajama bottoms and a shirt with a chocolate stain on the front.

Why is he here?
she thought. Then she remembered. Oh crap. The date. As Gideon's smile shrunk several molars as he examined her clothes, she swayed awkwardly.

She began,
"Gideon, I forgot—"

Mr. Fleas
leapt through the door and took a flying leap at Gideon. The dog sunk his teeth into the man's pant leg and started to tear the fabric.

"No, Mr. Fleas.
" She seized the dog by the middle and pulled him away, but the deranged canine was still snapping and snarling.

Gideon stared
down at his pants as if he wasn't quite sure what had happened.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Mr. Fleas squirmed in her grip, trying to attack Gideon at all costs. "I'll put him in his travel kennel."

She rushed inside as Mr. Fleas flailed wildly. He wasn't being himself. Yeah, the dog always barked at strangers, but this was the first time he'd ever tried to chew off somebody's limb. She rushed over to her hall closet and retrieved the travel kennel. As Mr. Fleas squirmed in desperation, she forced the dog inside.

"I'm s
orry." She hated locking Mr. Fleas up, especially after how valiant he'd been last night.

The dog ignored her and continued barking. Gideon must have come inside
because she heard footsteps behind her. She straightened up just in time to hear Chubby make the same strange yowling sound he had last night. The cat tried to wedge himself behind the flower pot for the second time. The pot tipped over, showering the floor and the animal with soil. Chubby, covered in dirt, lay down as if hoping his mountainous form would go unnoticed.

Last night had taken a psychological toll on her animals. Both her dog and cat were acting
crazy—well, crazier than usual.

She clamped her hand to her
forehead. A migraine was coming on.

"What a day," she groaned.

"I take it you weren't expecting me," Gideon said. "I did tell you that I was coming over no matter what, didn't I?"

"I know. I was expecting you, but…"
She shook her head. "I had a heck of a night, okay?"

"
What happened?" Gideon raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

"I—I—" Oh, for heaven's sake, she couldn't tell Gideon what she'd experienced.
He'd heckle her non-stop. "I'll tell you later."

Or never.

"Okay." Gideon nodded.

"I'm going to get dressed," she said. "
I'll be right back."

Before he could respond, she headed into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. The sound of her do
g barking could still be heard.
What on earth is going on in that dog's mind?
Shaking her head, she headed over to her closet and pulled out a pair of jeans.

After
she gave an exhausted sigh, she pulled off her pajama bottoms, embarrassed to no end that Gideon had seen her in her less-than-sexy sleepwear. Normally, she would have asked him to leave, but the truth was, she was going even crazier than her animals. She knew after her web search, she was going to be seeing dark shadows everywhere, whether they were there or not. As much as she and Gideon didn't get along, she wanted to escape her apartment, if only for a few hours. Maybe then she'd feel better about the situation.

At least, she hoped so.

After she dressed, she tied her hair into a ponytail. She could have put on makeup, but she didn't want to leave Gideon in the living room with her deranged pets any longer. Plus, she didn't want him to think she was trying to impress him. The last thing her fringed nerves needed today was an abundant amount of teasing. And if he made one comment—
one
—about anything inappropriate, she was going to smack him.

As Nora
grimaced, she headed into the dining room. Gideon was leaning over Chubby's quivering form.

"Easy," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Chubby—possibly the sweetest cat in existence—did something she never thought possible. The fat feline gave a mighty hiss and clawed Gideon's hand.

"
Whoa." She may have thought Gideon was a major thorn in the side, but that didn't mean she wanted him to be mangled by her pets. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Gideon stared sadly down at his
fingers.

"Chubby has never done that before," she
said.

The cat mewled, wearing an expression of utmost fear.

"It's not his fault." Gideon shook his head. "This happens to me all the time."

"It does?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, animals hate me," he said.

"Well, it's odd that my pets hate anybody," she said. "Especially Chubby. He's pretty much the gentlest cat in the world."

Except for when it comes to Gideon and black shadows, apparently.

Even a
t the thought of black shadows, she cast a fearful glance over her shoulder. She didn't see anything, but she could still remember the words from the website:
Demons will use profanities, hiss, speak in foreign tongues, kick, hit, and manipulate humans. They will also torture animals since they find harming all life forms to be amusing.
Still she found herself more fearful for Chubby and Mr. Fleas than she did for herself. She gnashed her teeth and stared at the cat who slinked into the bedroom.

When she turned her attention back to Gideon, she saw he was watching her with a concerned expression.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gideon asked. "You look exhausted and, well…"

"Well, what?" When Gideon paused mid-sentence, it couldn't be good.

"Scared," Gideon said. "Right now, you look scared."

She threw back her head and laughed, though it sounded fake to her own ears.
Despite the fact she was still alarmed by her pets' behavior, she didn't want Gideon to see her as weak. The last thing she wanted to be was a poor, defenseless female in need of rescue. She didn't need a gallant prince to come save her—she could free herself from the tower and slay her own dragon.

"I'm fine," she said. "A little
tired, but that's all."

Gideon obviously didn't believe a word
she said. In fact, the man looked, if possible, even more worried.

"Please d
on't look at me like that," she said. "I hate it."

Every day in the orphanage people had looked at her with
a similar worried expression. That was why she loathed it.

"Stubborn as always," he said.

"Not nearly as stubborn as you." She forced a grin on her face. "Now are we going or what?"

"I'm shocked," he said. "I
thought I'd have to tie you up and drag you from your apartment. Your willingness to go on a date is more than I expected."

Of course he had to
heckle her…

"
I can change my mind in an instant, you know." She crossed her arms. "One more comment and I'll decide not to go."

"Okay, okay." The guy winked at her. "I'll wait to tease you until you're in my truck and the door is locked."

"You'd better have your mouth shut even then." She glared at him.

With a grin, Gideon
pretended to zip his mouth shut.

When she
focused on his lips, she remembered the dream from last night. His mouth on hers had been great. No, it had been better than great. It had been completely earth shattering. She could still remember the way it felt to have his hands tangled in her hair with his big, masculine body pressing against hers. Heck, her mouth started to water at the memory of his chocolate flavored kisses.

Suddenly, she realized she was ogling. Again.
What on earth was she thinking?

She clapped her hand
s to her face in horror. No, she would never, ever think about that dream again. Not in this lifetime. For heaven's sake, she didn't even like Gideon. The only reason she spent any time with the man was because she didn't have another choice.

She
gnawed at her bottom lip as her sanity frayed. After everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours—the kissing dream, the shadow's appearance—she felt like she was being punished for something. Maybe she was the victim of karma. 

"
I was a mass murderer in my past life, wasn't I?" she yelled, shaking her fist at the ceiling.

Oops. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"I was going to take you to a bakery, but I think a trip to the doctor would be more appropriate," Gideon said. "Why the heck did you scream like that?"

"I was just kidding."
Or not. "Let's go."

She headed over to the
travel kennel and picked it up.

"You're taking your dog on our date?" Gideon looked like he
wanted to shoot himself.

"I'm taking both of my pets over to my neighbor's apartment while I'm gone," she said. "
My neighbor is a little old lady who lives all alone. She adores Chubby and Mr. Fleas."

If her neighbor watched the animals
, then she wouldn't have to worry about the shadow coming back while she was gone. No matter what, she had to protect her pets from the invisible force.