Mystic Hearts (5 page)

“I
have plenty of questions, but not right now. You’re charming when you rant. And
to answer the last question, my investigative mind has left the building. I
have other matters I can’t ignore.”

Her
eyes shifted between his and she pulled her lips inward.

The
stress Charlene endured, mixed with the longing in her eyes, suggested he
should click off the lust running through him, and snap back into agent mode.
After another taste of her sweet lips, he would propose they move to opposite
corners of the room so they’d be able to talk. Sitting next to one another
wouldn’t work. He’d never keep his hands off her.

He
lowered his head, stopping a fraction from her lips, and waited to see how
she’d respond. If she moved away, he wouldn’t try to kiss her again…at least
not tonight.

She
rose on her toes and slid her tongue over his chin. A low, soft moan escaped
her precious lips.

He
went rock hard from want, not lust, for the third time within minutes. The
reason he’d kept his distance from Charlene: he couldn’t allow emotions to mix
with the idea of sex.

But
now, he tumbled into a dilemma he couldn’t reverse. As much as he didn’t want
to admit it, he knew he was damaged goods and wouldn’t be able to give Charlene
what she wanted or needed.

Still,
not able to stop from kissing the woman he’d dreamed of, he shifted. Their lips
touched. Just like minutes ago, the earth stood still.

She
kissed with such intensity he wished he could stay there forever.

He
wrapped his hands around the curve of her waist, the spot he’d wanted to touch
since she parked in the Manor’s driveway earlier, and pulled her closer. Her
breasts flattened against him.

Since
his father’s death, he kept his carnal thoughts concealed on the do-not-think
list, the place where he buried his grief.

Tonight,
he’d break the self-imposed rules and risk destroying the wall he erected. In
the past, changing his ways hadn’t been a concern. No woman had tempted him,
not until Charlene.

She
eased away. Her brown eyes searched his face. “How can you be tangible?”

He
rested his forehead against hers, debating if he should commence the
questioning.

“The
strobe light is on,” Charlene said, her voice raising decibels, as she lifted
her head away from his.

Her
comments and actions reflected someone taking illegal substances. He could no
longer put off asking. “Besides wine.” Stroking her arms, he watched her face,
monitoring her reaction to his next words. “Charlene, have you taken
something?”

“What?
I’d never.” She braced her hands on his chest and pushed. “How could you ask?”

The
world shifted. Their powerful, delicious moment had been squelched by his
investigative brain, kicking in. “I have to ask.”

“Why?”
She folded her arms across her chest, the sign no matter what he said, it
wouldn’t compute in her raging mind.

“There’s
no strobe light,” he said as delicately as he could.
 

“Yes,
there is.” She turned toward the darkened wall and grimaced. “I saw it.”

He
grasped her elbows, tugged her to him, but she stood firm. Either she drank too
much, which he didn’t believe, or his earlier thought resurfaced. She’d
ingested a narcotic, somehow. His mind churned with possibilities. Had Mathews
laced the wine? Is that why he watched her?

“Please
talk to me.” Her voice shook. Her sweet face, glowing moments ago from their
kisses, turned white. “The look on your face is scaring me.”

He
touched her back and nudged her toward him.

She
tightened her grip around his waist.

“I
don’t mean to.” Inhaling her peach scent, he rested his chin on top of her of
head and inched closer. No doubt she was aware of how much he wanted her.

“Ben!”
Charlene shouted, pointing at the window behind him. “They’re coming.”

Larry
crossed the room and gazed out. The neighbor’s outside lights glowed, casting a
light on their yard and part of Charlene’s. No one was there. He faced her.

Slowly,
she shook her head. “No one is there…?”

He
pressed his lips together. How could he tell her someone drugged her, that
everything she saw tonight wasn’t real, except for him?

Her
face turned whiter. Her eyes rolled back in her head moments before her body
went slack. Larry rushed over, caught her by the waist before her head hit the
coffee table, and laid her on the couch in the same spot he’d placed her
earlier.

On
the edge of the couch, he studied her angelic features. A slight smile covered
her face as short breaths escaped on a soft snore. Whatever she dreamed, it was
good.

He
slipped a blanket over her, and kissed her head before heading to the kitchen
to search for noodles to finish the soup.

****

Charlene gazed
at Larry, not believing he stood before her.

“You have to
know. I assume the human form once a year on this night,” he said.

She searched his
eyes. The honey color she’d glimpsed earlier had changed, and they’d darkened.
“I don’t understand.”

“Tonight, I’ll
break my tradition and risk losing the next five years for the brief mortality
I have on All-Hallow’s Eve by being with you.” He kissed her below the ear. “No
woman has ever tempted me to cave in and give up the one night that keeps my
hope alive.”

She tingled, yet
she didn’t fully comprehend what he was saying. She blinked, saw fireworks, and
blinked again. The colorful sparkles remained.

He leaned his
forehead against hers. “I’m not in the mortal form, at least not all the time.”

The strobe
twirled, light bounced off the walls.

He stepped away
and raked his hand through his hair.

“It’s an alarm,
isn’t it?”

“Yes. They’ve
arrived. I’d hope they’d abandon the idea and let me have one mortal night of
peace.”

What was he
talking about?

“You need to
leave before the battle commences.”

Her mouth
dropped open. “What? No. I’m not leaving.”

“They’ll kill
you.”

Her stomach
tightened.

The rate at
which the light spun grew wild. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed long,
furry ears curled down, as if to wave. She faced it. The rabbit from
Alice in
Wonderland
smiled from beside the
woodstove. “You’re late, you’re late, you’re late for a very important date,”
it said and jumped out the closed window.

Shaking her
head, she turned toward him. “Nothing is as it seems.” She met his serious eyes
and bit her lip.

“During this
time,” he said, “I’m mortal, which happens once a year. A group wants me not to
exist between the two worlds. If they kill me during All-Hallow’s Eve, I’ll
disappear forever.”

Her heart
dropped, fell flat to her feet. She should pick it up, but his gaze bored into
hers, fixing her in the spot. She’d get it later. “Wh-what?”

The light spun
like an angry tiger. She closed her eyes before one chased her and she peed her
pants.

“The light
signals the intruders’ arrival. I cooked chicken soup to cover up my scent. In
years past, I hid in the hay, around cows…goats. I hoped they wouldn’t find
me.”

Cows? Goats? She
twisted to look out the window to find one. Maybe they could go cow-tipping.

On the horizon,
lights came forth, indicating the imminent battle he referred to. Fear rushed
through her. “Look!”

“They’re on
their way. We have some time before they reach us.”

The light spun
faster, flew off the pedestal.

She ducked.

The ball
shattered against the wall, killing the lamp’s glow. The moon’s beam seeped in,
giving her enough light to see his face.

Someone wanting
to fight him terrified her. She didn’t want to lose him to some stupid Hallow’s
Eve nonsense. “Let’s hide.” She tore through a few boxes and found two paint
cans and tossed him one. “Spray paint the window. They won’t be able to see
us.”

“That works.”

With each pass
of the can, the hissing expelled a pungent odor. The spray passed over the
window. The light flittering inside disappeared.

“Now what?” she
asked.

He turned on a
small lamp. “The last moment of immortality lends me strength to make it
another year. I’m savoring each second. I refuse to let this time end without
touching the woman of my dreams.”

A hand fisted
her heart and squeezed. The fireworks at the end of her vision vanished. His
face grew clearer: the sweet smile, the gentleness of his eyes. Her insides
stirred.

In the corner,
flowers from the rose bush filled a vase. He chose one and approached. “I have
an idea.”

She eyed it,
wondering what he had planned. The sexual glint in his eyes stimulated her
nether regions.

He guided her to
lie down on the chaise. The scent of the flower flowed through the air much
like the white patch had. The pedals glided down her forehead, down her nose.
When he reached her mouth, she kissed the petals.

“I want to feel
the silkiness…on my skin,” she breathed.

“Your wish is my
command.”

Their clothes
disappeared.

Standing beside
her, the deliciousness of his glorious toned body urged her to run her fingers
along the ridges of his pectoral muscles and lower. She shivered at his
sensuality.

“Not yet.” He
grasped her hand and placed it back on the chaise. “Let me spoil you.”

The flower,
floating on its own, slid along her neck.

He trailed the
flower, nibbling on the delicate area beneath her ear before pulling it into
his mouth. The sensation felt so good, she craved more and arched her back.

He rose and
observed the petals sweep the area where she longed to feel him, her breasts.
She moaned. The intensity in his gaze, pleasing and wanting, made her wiggle.
“I like you watching.”

“You’re
gorgeous.”

The flower
caressed her stomach, inched toward the spot she ached to be touched.

“I want you.” He
covered her body with his, his warmth stroking her from chest to legs.

“I have to keep
reminding myself you’re not real, you’re a ghost.”

“Hmm.” He kissed
the tip of her nose. “Nothing is as it seems.”

The door crashed
in.

Chapter Four

Charlene
bolted upright, panting. Sweat covered her body and her head ached. A white
dresser lined the wall on the left, her favorite piece of furniture, an
upholstered bench, on the right.

Her bedroom
.

She
pulled her legs inward, keeping the sheet over her waist and legs, and rested
her arms on her knees. Last night’s memories came in bits and pieces: locking
her keys in the car, a white patch…a rose…a man.

Larry.

Memories
rushed forward. The way he caressed her body with the flower’s soft petals,
sending sexual tingles to the areas that hadn’t reacted to a man’s touch in a
long time.

Charlene
froze.

The
silky, coral nightgown she bought, but never wore, covered her.

Her
mind reeled with ‘oh, no she didn’t.’ The erotic encounter of soft petals
stroking her skin slammed into her memory, which meant…she and
Larry…“No-o-o-o!” They couldn’t have slept together. She would have remembered.

Sex on the first
date? Who does that?

Technically, it
wasn’t even a date…

Charlene
scoffed, dropped her head on her knees and closed her eyes. “What have I done?”
Many nights flew by on fantasies of sleeping with Larry. Not once had she
dreamt she’d act the slut, nor be intoxicated.

A
wooden spoon oddly moving in circles seeped into her mind. No hand grasped the
handle to force the movements. She shook her head as a hand waving in the
window flashed in her mind’s eye. Nothing that happened last night was factual.

She
lifted her head and set her chin on her knee. If that was true, then the petals
that brought her body to life didn’t exist.

Was Larry real?

She
touched her lips, reliving their electrifying kiss. No illusion tasted or felt
that good, nor could it bring her home, put her nightgown on, and help her to
bed.