“Are you certain that is what you want? It will not be easy.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t care. I want to try it.”
“It will be disorienting at first. You’ll have to get past your senses and hold on to mine. Your own body will fight you. The images will be in your mind. You will see things the way I see them.”
“I don’t care, as long as I see.” There was determination in her voice.
“You will have to merge your mind fully with mine. What I see and feel, you will also. If you are uncomfortable, pull away from my mind. You will have the control to do that. Have you noticed that your power and sensitivity to the environment around you is growing?”
“Why is that?”
“You are my lifemate. As our lives merge, so do our bodies. I made my claim on you, the ritual binding, and we are tied in heart and soul.” His smile was in his voice. “In this modern age, I suppose that sounds melodramatic and old-fashioned.”
“Not to me.” She hesitated, suddenly afraid. “What do I do?”
He went to her, recognizing she was close to tears. The intensity of her sexual need was overwhelming. Continually having to adjust the volume of hearing and coping with the separation without understanding why was daunting. He stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and held her to him.
Antonietta shivered. “You really can do this?”
He felt the small tremor that ran through her body. “I will be with you. Remember, you cannot see through your own eyes. You have to merge completely and see through mine. I can use Celt or any person I have a particular bond with to see, even from a distance. We have a strong bond. There is nothing to worry about. I can hold the merge, and you will be able to see.”
“I’m not certain I understand, but I want to try.” She sounded scared but determined. Her hands gripped his. “Tell me what to do.”
“Let yourself reach for me. You know the path. It is the same as making love, merging minds completely. Just let it happen.”
Antonietta forced air through her lungs to calm herself. She was terrified it would work. Terrified it wouldn’t. Very slowly she reached up and removed her dark glasses. Her fingertips touched her eyes. She felt him. Byron. Moving in her mind. Looking into places she didn’t want anyone to see. She jerked away from him.
“It is all right,
bella
, I am not looking for incriminating evidence. You are in my head as well. It goes both ways with mutual respect. Try again, and this time relax.”
Antonietta dug her fingers into the back of his hand and let go with her mind. Allowed her barriers down to merge. It was a peculiar feeling, not unpleasant, a blending of two personalities. She waited. Held her breath. Colors shimmered and danced. Raw. Vibrant. Too much so. She cried out and put a hand over her eyes. The colors didn’t go away.
“Just accept them and let them go.”
She tried. Her stomach roiled. She could make out something blurry in the distance. Byron was focusing on something. She strained backward, pressing against him. But she forced her eyes to stay open. She wasn’t certain it was necessary to do so, she could tell the vision came from him, not her, but she wanted to feel as if she were truly seeing. The edges began to clear. Her stomach lurched again. Everything tilted and spun.
“This isn’t right. I don’t think I’m doing it right. Everything is moving and spinning so fast.”
“Hold on tight to my hands. Anchor yourself. It is not your eyes, Antonietta. They are mine. You do not need your fingertips to tell your brain what you are seeing.”
Something dark danced on the walls. She ducked to avoid it.
“A shadow, the firelight reflected on the wall. You can put your hand through a shadow. Concentrate. I am going to narrow our vision to see one thing. Celt is lying peacefully beside your bed. I want you to see him.”
Antonietta fought a very real case of vertigo. She turned her head, and objects burst at her much like rockets. She cried out. “It isn’t working.” She pressed her hand hard against her churning stomach. “I’m going to be sick.”
“No you are not. We can stop if you want.” His hands held hers tightly.
“Just look at Celt. Only Celt.” She was a Scarletti. Her family never backed away from a challenge. “I can do it.”
She focused on the distant, blurry object. The borzoi lifted his head, and everything dipped and spun. She refused to look away. The image began to clear. Celt. Sprawled next to her bed. He was enormous, black, a noble head. She had no way of judging distances. Antonietta flung out her hand, thinking him close enough to touch.
“He is across the room.”
“He’s beautiful. I want to see your face. Show me your face.”
He used the small mirror in the vanity, staring at his own face. Her hands went to test for herself, moving over his face, mapping familiar territory. He was far too handsome, his eyes mesmerizing, his mouth sinfully kissable, his jaw strong. She loved his hair, even pulled back the way it was and secured at the nape of his neck.
They examined a variety of objects in her room from her four-poster bed to her stained glass windows. “I do not want you to get tired. I want you to see yourself.”
Antonietta shook her head. Byron was behind her, his body pressed very close to hers. She could barely breathe with wanting him. His mind was fully merged within hers, and the sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to keep her hands off him. Especially after seeing his face. And the idea of seeing herself visually was disturbing. Although she had to admit to curiosity.
“Do you know what a mirror is?” Byron persisted. “Do you recall from the days of your childhood? You can see your own reflection. I want you to look at yourself.”
Her mouth went dry. “I’d rather not.”
The visual belonged to Byron. Antonietta experienced her sexual reactions from touch, but he had all of his senses. He wanted her to feel what he felt simply by looking at her body. “Look at yourself, Antonietta. Do not fear who you are.”
“I’m afraid. Whatever I see will be with me for the rest of my life.”
“Trust me. Trust in the way I see you.”
She reluctantly lifted her head and stared into the full-length mirror. A stranger stared back at her. Her hair was wild, cascading around her, shiny and black. Flickering lights from the fire put a glossy sheen in it. Her eyes were huge and black. She could see tiny white scars near the corners of her eyes when she stared long and hard. Her mouth was wide and generous, curving upward at the corners. Her skin seemed flawless, glowing even. She had a woman’s voluptuous body.
Antonietta reached a shaking hand toward her reflected image. Then reached up and felt her own face in wonder.
She ran her fingertips over her face in an attempt to recognize her own features. She reached out again toward the mirror, touched the smooth, hard glass. She felt her own hair. “No one is that beautiful. I don’t look like that. That can’t be me.”
“That is how you look to me.” His voice was soft in her ear.
As deeply merged as they were, she felt his sexual excitement. The need to see her like this. He was aroused at the thought of her naked in front of the mirror. There was a heady power in the ability to make him want her so much. She was unbearably aroused already; to bring him to the same fever pitch was enthralling.
“Take off your blouse, Antonietta. See yourself the way I see you.” He was temptation itself. The devil with his arms around her. She could see him in the mirror, his black hair shining in the firelight, his features hard and angular. His eyes burned over her reflection, stamped with possession and promise.
Antonietta caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head and for a moment, the image in front of her wavered. She felt Byron’s breath leave his body. Her full breasts were encased in lace. It was an odd thing to be looking at herself, seeing and feeling through the eyes of a man. He was violently aroused. She could feel the thick length of him pressed hard into her buttocks.