Blooming in the Wild (27 page)

He’s found the woman of his dreams—in the midst of his worst nightmare.

© 2012 Raine Weaver

Carlotta Phelps never considered herself special, except for a peculiar ability to control the course of her dreams. Other than being a handy cure for nightmares, it's a pretty worthless talent. Until she’s recruited for the One Hundred, a team of lucid dreamers whose combined visualizations have been proven to affect reality.

With a giant asteroid hurtling straight toward Earth and the scientific technology to avert it iffy, the dreamers are the fallback—the last line of defense. And the man who’s been assigned as her bodyguard is messing with her focus, big time.

Ex-Special Ops soldier Parker Munroe has no idea why he’s been assigned to protect the luscious, gentled-eyed Carly. She’s a frustrating temptation, but he’s a hard-core realist. The only power he believes in is brute force.

Then he learns that his charge, who practically lives in lacy negligees, wields an awesome power—and an even bigger responsibility. She and her kind are being hunted by an enemy he can’t even identify, against which all his skill with weaponry is useless. If he can’t find a way to protect her, the world is as doomed as the heart he’s already lost.

Warning: This title contains a hero who packs a really big gun, government conspiracies, hot-buttered murder, witch hunting, and drop-your-drawers-there’s-a-newsheriff-in-town-and-she’s-carryin’-cuffs kinda sex.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Lucidity:
He touched me
.

Not in a protective way or to chastise her, and not to get her into motion as he did when a threat was imminent. He’d actually touched her as a man intrigued by a woman might.

Carly licked her lips, trying to calm the nervous fluttering of her stomach. Such silliness. She couldn’t let such a simple gesture affect her. He was probably horny, and she was feeling vulnerable. Loneliness and isolation were the only things drawing them together.

She could only be so honest with him, after all. Against orders, she would talk about the experiment, the One Hundred, and the worldwide danger to them all. But to tell him how much more she really wanted from him, that she could barely sit this close without wanting to jump his bones, was courting complications. And they had enough to deal with already.

Besides, she’d never agreed with her superiors about keeping this secret from the populace. And this man who regularly risked his life for her certainly deserved the truth.

“I am what’s called a lucid dreamer. That is, a person who, while dreaming, is not only aware that they are, but they’re often able to control the dream itself.”

He gave her a long, blank stare, as if waiting for her to get to the real point. Okay, this was not going to be easy if he couldn’t believe this
was
the point. “The gift wasn’t produced in a laboratory. It’s not unnatural, not even all that unusual. A significant percentage of the general population has the ability.”

“Do they?”

“Yes. Haven’t you ever found yourself in the middle of a dream and—”

“I don’t dream.”

“Of course you do. Everyone does.”

“Then I guess I don’t remember them.”

She blinked, at a loss for what to say. Most people experienced dreams for at least two out of every eight hours of sleep, three to five per night. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be totally unaware of such a huge part of one’s existence. “I’m sorry. How very sad for you.”

“Sleep is for resting. Anything else just disturbs the process.”

“Dreams are part of the process, whether we like it or not. They give us a chance to let our imaginations soar, to live in different worlds, learn the secret language of our minds, our spirits.” She paused, feeling his detachment as dead space between them. Lord, she didn’t want to start lecturing the man. But how was she supposed to reach someone who’d so firmly grounded himself in denial? “I could teach you. It would be fun! Remembering and understanding them just takes a bit of practice. Honestly, Parker, with a little instruction and some relaxation techniques, I think you’d love it, lucid or not. Once this is all over and everything’s returned to…” Her voice dissipated, and she swallowed hard.

What made her think anything was ever going to be normal again?

“My nocturnal fantasies are probably best left forgotten,” he muttered. The gruff tone of his voice and his sharpened gaze made her think he was probably right. “Go on with your story.”

Not an easy request to grant when he was so much a part of her dreams. “Five years ago, I took part in a research project. It was at Stanford University, right here in the USA. I couldn’t afford to go to college on a cashier’s salary, so it seemed interesting to have them pay
me
. The researchers advertised for ‘lucid’ volunteers. Just average, everyday folks with a weird little gift, a common interest. You know, sort of like a gathering of those people who go to comic book conventions, or the ones who collect Pez dispensers.”

“Pez?” His eyebrows beetled in confusion. “Are you fucking with me?”

Sadly, no. But wouldn’t he be stunned to know how often she thought of doing just that. Too much, in fact, when her energy should be focused on her duties—and surviving. “Seriously. It was a sort of ‘dream tank’, manned by idealistic scientists and students genuinely interested in exploring the creative mind. It was
glorious
. I made so many friends there. People who didn’t believe in boundaries, just learning. Pure magic, Parker, a Disneyland for dreamers. But, after a few weeks, things got more serious.

“From the original group, the researchers culled one hundred test subjects. Those they considered gifted. The ones who could imagine most vividly, maintain the strongest control over images and outcomes. Months of follow-up studies showed each of them not only had the ability to direct the course of their dreams, but, when given a real-life situation to focus on, they actually seemed to affect
that
as well.”

“Okay, freeze.”

“What?”

Parker glared at her, shaking his head. “Such wide-eyed innocence. You know goddamn well you’re freaking me out. You just took a giant leap from ‘hey, that sounds interesting’ to ‘nice buzz, what’s the street value of your drugs?’ You’re telling me you honestly think someone can suggest a scenario to you, and when you dream about it, that thing becomes reality?”

“I’m afraid so.”

He laughed softly, stretching his long frame in the little chair as if someone had just pulled his leg. It was a lovely rumbling sound from deep in his diaphragm that made her want to tickle his abs. With her tongue. And work her way down. “You think I’m joking.”

“I
hope
you’re joking.”

“I’m afraid this is as serious as it gets.”

His eyes narrowed to slashes of steel. “You do realize how that sounds?”

“I realize what most people choose to ignore. That there is so much more to us than some animated bit of clay suspended on a frame of fragile bones.”

She was so excited to finally be able to tell him the truth—to tell
someone
— that she reached across the table to pinch his arm to illustrate her point. And couldn’t grab hold. Jesus, the man had biceps the size of canned hams and twice as firm.

“Not that all bodies are fragile,” she continued distractedly, watching the triangular tattoo ripple as he reached for his mug. She could imagine her name inked possessively across that hard muscle as it did push-ups over her bucking body… “But the creative mind is capable of amazing things.”

“That’s crazy talk.” Parker tossed back his coffee and grimaced. “There are those who’d say genetically altered coochie would be more believable.”

“Yes, I know how it sounds, but it is the truth. The evidence was undeniable. As individuals, on a small scale, it was little more than an oddity. Penny-ante stuff that didn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things. But the old adage is right. There’s strength in numbers. We kicked ass when we worked as a unit. So, the researchers began to wonder…what if all of us focused, concentrated—dreamed the same dream at the same time?”

“And so was born the infamous, elusive One Hundred.”

“Exactly.”

He chewed his bottom lip, eyeing her skeptically. “You’re telling me you people actually believe you can dream away the catastrophe?”

“Yes.” From the moment they first worked together, she’d believed it to be true. But now, facing the doubt of this man she respected so much, there was a quaver of uncertainty in her voice. “So? What d’ya say, big guy? Do you believe me? Want to help me save the world?”