"You can't know how many times I've thought about how it would be to be here like this with you," he said against her throat.
She speared her fingers through his hair. "You really missed me, Sweetwater?"
"No." He framed her face with his hands. "I was obsessed with you."
She smiled. "I can see where a lawsuit might have that effect on a man."
"I pay lawyers to deal with lawsuits. Believe me, the legal garbage had nothing to do with it. This was all about you."
He kissed her heavily, silencing the possibility of any more teasing.
She raised one knee. The robe fell back, exposing the inside of her thigh. He stripped off the silk panties and slid his palm upward along bare skin until he could feel the dampness of her arousal. Three months ago he had never dared touch her so intimately. He had known that if he went this far, he would not be able to resist the temptation to make her his completely. He had told her the truth earlier. He'd sensed that she might forgive a few kisses, but if he had made love to her under false pretenses there would have been hell to pay.
She drew a sharp, unsteady breath when she felt his hand on her. She was already wet and full. He was damp, too, sweating with the effort required to hold himself in check until she had come for him at least once.
He found the tight little bud of nerve endings above her cleft and worked it gently with his thumb, pushing under and then up until she started to lift herself off the bed.
"Cruz." She clutched at his shoulders.
He hooked two fingers into her and pressed upward again, searching for the sensitive, slightly swollen place just inside.
"You are so hot, so tight," he whispered. "Incredible."
She dug her nails into him. "Now. Do it right now."
He used his thigh to force her legs wider apart.
"Come for me first," he said.
"Damn it, Cruz. Cruz."
Her climax blossomed through her. She shuddered in his arms, one leg wrapped around his hips. She cried out, sounding half-astonished and half-euphoric. The energy of her release soared across his senses, nearly shattering his control. But he held on. This was too important. He had to get this right.
When she had just begun to go limp beneath him, he settled more intimately between her legs. Bracing himself on his elbows, he eased carefully inside her. She shivered, and he knew it was because she was very sensitive now.
"Wait," she whispered. Her hands flattened on his chest. "I think I need a little time here."
"Don't worry," he vowed. "We'll take it slow. We've got all night."
"You don't understand," she gasped. "That has never happened before. Not unless I used a small personal care appliance. But, oh, my, this was different. Really, really different."
He smiled. "In a good way?"
"A very good way." She took a few recovering breaths. "But it was a little over-the-top."
"I'm a Sweetwater. I do over-the-top."
She was laughing when he pushed gently into her, an inch, no more. She stopped laughing. He withdrew just as slowly. He could tell that she was tensed for possible discomfort. He was determined to give her only pleasure.
Gradually she relaxed, trusting him not to hurt her. After a while she began to tighten around him again.
"Cruz?"
She did not cry out his name in passion this time. She sounded startled. Unnerved.
"Don't worry," he said. "I've got you."
When she went taut and desperate beneath him a second time and started to tremble through another climax, he finally released the chains of control that had bound him for what seemed like forever.
He poured himself into her, hard and fast and exultant. His senses were still flung wide, and he knew hers were, too. She bound him tightly to her, her arms and legs snug and possessive around him.
He heard the amethyst charms clashing melodically in the night. A thousand shades of psychic fire burned in the shadows.
Chapter 15
THE FEATURELESS, SOUNDLESS VOID OF THE DREAMSCAPE was terrifying. She had to escape. Instinctively she pushed energy through the charms on her bracelet. .
The nightmare broke up into fragments.
She came awake on a surge of adrenaline that left her damp and shivering. She sat up quickly, breathless, pulse racing.
The first thing that struck her was that she was alone in the bed. Cruz was gone. Everything inside her went cold.
Vincent drifted across the quilt toward her. He huddled close, making anxious little chittering noises. She picked him up and cuddled him, taking comfort from his furry little frame.
"I'm not alone, am I?" she whispered. "I've got you, pal."
"Are you okay?" Cruz asked from somewhere near the window.
Shocked, she turned her head and saw him silhouetted against the pale green night light spilling through the window. The lines of his sleek, powerful shoulders and back were sharply etched, but his face was hidden in the shadows. Suddenly she was warm again.
Of course he was here, she thought. She would have known if he had left in the middle of the night. She had been so disoriented—so panicked—by the nightmare that she had not been paying attention to her senses.
"Bad dream," she explained. "I've been having them a lot lately." She hesitated. "But not usually at night. This one was different."
"You have dreams while you're awake?" he asked.
She drew a breath and let it out slowly. "More like hallucinations, I'm afraid. I know, I should probably see a para-shrink. I've been thinking about it. The thing is, most of the time I feel so damn normal. I can't bring myself to believe I'm going crazy."
"You're not crazy, Lyra."
"Something's going on, that's for sure. I've been telling myself that it's just stress. But after what happened tonight, I have to face the fact that the waking nightmares are getting worse."
"Tell me about them."
"Don't be ridiculous." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got to her feet. "There's nothing more boring than listening to someone else's dreams."
He came around the foot of the bed, reaching her just as she was pulling on her robe. She saw that he was back in his trousers.
"Getting ready to leave?" she asked, managing somehow to keep the pain out of her voice. "There's no need to sneak out. I won't be filing any lawsuits this time."
"I wasn't leaving. I was thinking." He tipped her chin up with one finger. "I've discovered that when I'm around you, I think better with my pants on."
From the beginning he'd had a way of making her feel like the sexiest woman alive. She allowed herself to relax a little.
"That's an interesting observation," she said.
"Tell me about the dreams."
She tried to see his expression more clearly, but in the shadowy room his face was all hard planes and angles.
"You're serious?" she asked. "You really want to hear about my weird dreams?"
He stroked his thumb along her bottom lip. His eyes were pools of fathomless darkness.
"Yes," he said. "Start with the one that just woke you up."
She swallowed uneasily. "That's the one that was different. Actually, it was more or less a repeat of the hallucination that hit me earlier tonight when those two men attacked us. It was as if my senses had been muffled. I couldn't see or hear anything. There was no up or down, just this endless thick fog."
He cupped her face in his hands. "That was me, Lyra. I did that to you."
"What?"
"You asked me about my talent earlier. Well, that's part of it. Makes it easier to hunt."