Incubus (6 page)

The doctor pursed his lips and smiled in a way that gave her the feeling she'd just been played by a master manipulator. “Very well. I'll inform his family. How much do you charge for your services?”

“I'll let you know when I'm finished with him. When I do, I'll expect to be paid in cash. No receipt. I'll start when he's feeling well enough.”

The familiar grumble of John's Suburban pulling up outside eased the tension in Caroline's chest. At the doctor's knock, Dash sprang up, tail wagging. Caroline felt like she could have done the same. She admitted John, who took one look at Neshi, then at Meical and then at her.

Caroline nodded. “This is Dr. Benemerut Neshi, Meical's physician and personal watchdog.”

If Neshi felt disparaged by her dig, he didn't show it. He stepped forward and offered John his hand. “Pleasure.”

“This is Dr. John Calvin,” supplied Caroline.

John shook Neshi's hand with a wry grin. “Glad to know Meical isn't all alone in the world like we thought.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Neshi returned.

John gave Meical a cursory examination and checked his pulse. “Got any Gatorade, Caroline?”

“Only the orange kind,” she replied. “It sucks.”

“Darlin', he'll be too thirsty to care.”

“Yes,” put in Neshi. “Dehydration is to be expected after what he's been through these past few days.”

How could he even have noticed Meical was dehydrated? He hadn't done a thing for him since his arrival, and what little he
had
done didn't constitute much of an examination. Something about Neshi just wasn't right. Caroline went to fetch the Gatorade, but kept her eye on him. She couldn't penetrate his emotions. His barriers reminded her of that big, black wall she'd come up against in Meical earlier.

A groan from the sofa hastened her. When Neshi and John propped Meical into a sitting position between them, she touched Meical's icy cheek, held the glass of Gatorade to his lips and spoke his name.

His pewter-gray eyes jerked open. His gaze lit on her and his eyes darkened. Hunger flooded out of him, hunger for everything inside her. He growled deep in his chest, clutched her face with both hands and dragged her mouth down to his.

 

He heard Caroline scream inside herself. He could taste her fear and outrage. But that was only part of her response. She moaned against his mouth, even as she tried to push away, showering them both with orange Gatorade when she let go of the glass she held.

No escape. He couldn't afford to give her one. If he was dying, so be it, but he wasn't going to die suffering like this. He had never spared his prey before.

And Caroline was his.

John tried to haul her off him. Neshi intervened before Meical swatted the good doctor. The red-faced
human was under a trance before his backside hit the chair the vampire shoved him into.

Caroline's dog paced and growled. Meical shot her a withering look. No time for patience. She retreated to the corner, but whined incessantly. Wrapping his shaking arms around Caroline, he kissed her until her inner screams were silent and her moans grew plaintive. Deep inside, she wanted him, but still she resisted.

He reached into her very soul and found the thread of thought she clung to.
Caroline, just let go and let me in.

She jerked in his arms, and her hands closed into fists, but she didn't hit him. She just pushed against him, even while she locked her mouth on his and deepened her kiss.

Get out of my head. Now. Nobody touches me like this. Nobody. Let me go.

I'm going to die if I don't make love to you.

I'm sure there are plenty of women that line will work on, but not me. Let me go.

Caroline…please…I don't have time to argue…

The warmth of her arousal turned to ice. She recoiled from him, mentally and physically. When she lifted her mouth from his and their gazes locked, her eyes were the dull black of an entranced human, but underneath the shadow, Meical saw the fire inside her.

There. That was what she was made of, this woman he wanted to feast on.

Her thoughts scalded him inside.
I won't let you hurt me. No one will hurt me again. Not you. Not anyone.

I swear I won't hurt you.

Meical caressed her face with both hands and pushed her toward an abyss of complete compulsion. He watched her fight, felt her grapple for her control. She was so strong she almost surfaced from beneath his power, but he opened up to her and let her feel exactly how devastating his hunger for her was. He made it her hunger. He'd make it hers all night long.

She gasped and arched against him, eyes wide, mouth open in a perfect little “oh.” Between one breath and the next, he exploited her sudden weakness and dragged her under.

“Well done,” Neshi said from across the room. “She'll wake to think you're completely insane and be smitten with all sorts of professional pity on your behalf—exactly according to plan.”

Meical snorted. “What plan? I'm dying.”

Neshi examined John's staring eyes. “Not
yet,
you aren't, but you're not helping yourself by trying to survive on foreplay. You never settled for tidbits as a vampire, did you?”

“Don't tell me you were watching us while we—”

“You are the test specimen, Grabian, and she is my lab.” Dragging John Calvin out of the chair, Neshi lifted the doctor onto his shoulder. “Feed properly, and I may require less observation in the future.”

Neshi opened the door without touching it. The soft, cold night wind blew in, sweetened by the scent of pine. Outside, the plopping noises of snow falling from trees in the yard dented the quiet night.

“Neshi,” Meical called.

The vampire turned, his eyes agleam with hunger.

“Don't damage her friend. She depends on him.”

“He won't know what hit him. I'll leave him on his own front porch, and I'll even end the evening with some professional chitchat.”

“What about his car?”

“He'll believe I've given him a ride home. He'll come for his vehicle tomorrow.”

Meical fixed his gaze on him. “All things considered… I should thank you for giving me back the sun.”

Neshi's smile turned his blood cold. “Thank me if you live, Grabian.”

Neshi disappeared into the night, and the door clicked shut behind him.

If he lived.

Meical shifted Caroline in his arms and looked at her. Her eyes were dilated and velvet black with arousal. His mouth watered. Pulling her close, he floated to his feet, deposited her in a chair and knelt in front of her.

“Caroline, can you hear me?”

She blinked at him and nodded with a half smile.

“I want you to put aside all your inhibitions. Do you understand? There are no obstacles between us.”

“No obstacles.”

“Good. When I let you wake, I want you to do the first thing you feel like doing. Don't think. Don't question. Just act on your very first impulse.”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

His heart pounded. “You can wake up now.”

She blinked again and stared at him. Her half-choking gasp and scarlet face told him she'd remembered what had just happened, but without her inhibitions to stop
her, she was as good as his. He readied himself to take her in his arms and love her as she'd never been loved before, to feed until he was utterly satiated, to glory in her arousal, to—

He hardly saw her hand move. She'd slapped him twice before he recovered from his surprise. Then all he could see was her dainty finger at the end of his nose and her eyes aglitter with rage.

“Never—ever—invade me like that again!” she yelled.

She bounced out of her chair, hopping on her one foot, and shoved him backward onto his back. Hands on hips, she balanced there and glared down at him.

“Understand this, Meical Grabian. You are my patient. I am your doctor. You will show me respect.”

Her hands plucked nimbly at the buttons of her blouse. Meical watched, mesmerized. No inhibitions. None. “Yes, Caroline. Of course.”

She whipped off her blouse and plopped down beside him. “I won't have any of this sneaking in and out of my mind like that anymore. Got that?”

His “Yes, Caroline” was swallowed by her kiss. She filled her hands with his hair and pulled, nibbling his lower lip until he wanted out of his jeans.

With a groan he rolled her over and kissed her mouth. “Whatever you want from me, it's yours. Anything. Just tell me.”

“I want you to make love to me.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to…”

He paused in his kisses and looked down at her. “Yes?”

Her eyes glinted and narrowed. “I'm not afraid of you.”

He fought to keep a straight face. “Evidently.”

“But I should be.”

“Should you?” he whispered. He bent and kissed her cheek, clinging desperately to the last vestiges of control that enabled him to parody a harmless human. “I won't hurt you.”

“You…I…”

“Yes, that just about sums it up.”

“Wait.”

Meical hung in breathless despair, dangling from that one word. No. Not yet. Not when he was so close.

Caroline was coming out of her trance.

Breathing hard, Meical shook his head against her soft shoulder and scraped his fisted hands on the floor. He couldn't bring himself to back off, so he remained as he was, poised over her, and waited.

The silence in the room stung his ears.

“Look at me, Meical.”

When he did, he saw no recrimination in her eyes, but her face was as white as the snow outside. “What are you?”

M
eical smoothed her hair out of her eyes. “I'm someone who needs your healing. Someone who needs
you.
Right now.”

Her brow rose. “You
are
an empath, right? Like me?”

“Actually, I'm nothing like you. And considering what you've been through, I'm the last person on earth you should think of as your friend.” Meical hardened his heart. “But I need you.”

Her lower lip trembled, and her hands fell away from his face. Her eyes were dull again, but not from any preternatural trance of his. He could feel her struggling to hold on to who she was. “Look, if you've got a clinical addiction to sex,
this
isn't going to help. Get off me, and we'll talk.”

An addiction. That was a tempting, easy lie. But he couldn't lie to Caroline. He just couldn't. “There's no way I can explain it to you. And since it doesn't matter whether you believe me or not, I—”

“It matters to me.” She scowled. “I'm a psychologist. I want to understand your problem, okay? Is it like a need for emotional contact that can only be resolved through intercourse? Is it a compulsion? What?”

Meical caught the scent of desperation on her skin, mixed with that of her arousal. The combination stoked his hunger and pushed him closer to the edge. He let his gaze wander over her and watched the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath her shirt. He heard her breath catch in her throat and her heartbeat leap into a charge.

He met her gaze again. “It's nourishment, plain and simple. I need to feed. On you. On your pleasure.”

The skeptical arch of her brow and her calm, nonjudgmental tone told him how hard she was clinging to the solace of her professional jurisdiction, all the safe, sane, familiar things that people used to combat the unexplainable. But that wouldn't see her through this. No. There was another way.

He bent and took her succulent earlobe in his mouth and teased it with his tongue. Her feeble protest ended in a soft moan. Her arousal flared, shoring up his flagging strength. When he was sure his blow would be swift and clean, he took her mouth in his again and plunged her into sleep so deep she wouldn't be able to come out of it without his help. Her sudden whimper tore out his heart.

But he had no heart. Best remember that.

Meical gave her a moment to drift off, then rose and carried her to the bed. He laid her down and undressed her gently, aching over the beauty of every cream-and-ivory inch of her that he unveiled. All the while, he struggled for a way to make the night sweet for her. He wanted it to be unforgettable, a truly healing experience. He wanted to give her something more precious to her than the pleasure he knew he could give her.

He took off his clothing, slipped into bed beside her and drew the covers over both of them. Pulling her into his embrace, he ignored his body's immediate reaction and took strength from the sleep-veiled undercurrent of desire that throbbed inside of her.

Somewhere in her mind, surely, there lay a conception of what Caroline wanted lovemaking to be, a fantasy she craved. If he couldn't find it, he would invent it. Strengthened by her closeness, he delved into her imagination with care. Where did she keep her secrets? Her prizes. Her joys and dreams.

He found a haven deep inside her where she'd tucked away a thousand images. All from books. Books, books and more books. His gaze rose to her paperbacks on the mantel and in the bookcase.

It would be so terrifyingly simple. If the Regency was what she longed for, he could give her this and more. He could create a dream out of her imaginings, endow it with the authenticity of someone born in that age and salt it with her favorite heroes and heroines. And when he'd wrapped her in the solace of her dream, he'd make his loving part of it.

Meical grimaced. Incubus, for sure.

But Caroline must believe she was the one in power; he must, in every respect, appear to be the powerless one. That was the only tonic for her fear of intimacy. Meical lifted her onto him and conjured the dream with care.

 

She'd always been here in this room. Hadn't she? No past. No future. The present was a thousand miles away from her.

Caroline breathed in the fragrances of heliotrope and roses and opened her eyes. She blinked in the sunlight that filtered in through an open window on her right. The light was so bright that it made a haze of everything. As in a dream.

She stood in the middle of a room she'd seen a thousand times in her dreams. But it was so real this time. Old oriental rugs on the hardwood floors. Beamed ceiling. The Chippendale furnishings, the reading nook at the window, the portraits of people whose faces she recognized from her nighttime wanderings.

All so real this time. She shivered, then broke out in a sweat, trembling while her body throbbed. Her breasts tingled, and an ache charged into her loins that made her slick and warm between her legs. She gasped in the hushed, golden room and wrapped her arms around herself.

No…those were his arms…embracing her…

Caroline turned around and stepped back. Meical stood there. Her questions were halfway out of her
mouth when the butterflies rampaging inside her cut them off.

Gorgeous man. She drew a fluttery breath, looking him over without a thought for what he might think. His golden hair curled over the open collar of his loose, flowing white shirt. He wore the tight-fitting breeches and Wellington boots of a British gentleman. Perfect.

He indicated the room with a wave of his hand. “How did you do this?”

Uneasiness turned her butterflies to razor blades. “I was just about to ask
you
that.”

His gray eyes gleamed. “I've done nothing. It's you.”

“I…I'm dreaming…”

He took a step closer to her. “You've brought me here to be in your dream?”

She took another look around. “No, I…”

“Then what am I doing here?”

She ran a hand through her hair and tugged at her bangs. “Just let me think. I've dreamed about this room before.”

He lifted a hand to touch the white satin ribbon on the bodice of her nightgown. “It seems real.”

It did. The huge four-poster bed in the corner seemed real. The voluminous old-fashioned linen nightgown she wore seemed real. The fire in Meical's gray eyes seemed real.

“But it isn't,” she murmured. “See, this is just a reaction I'm having to…”

His gaze rose and swallowed hers. “To?”

To him. To her attraction to him. After weeks of
subjugating her desires, of hiding from her need to reach out, her natural attraction to Meical was bringing all of it up and out of her subconscious in the form of a lucid dream.

Meical took another step closer to her. Caroline's mouth went dry when she caught the scent of his cologne. It was an old scent, green, masculine, earthy and totally Meical. He looked so perfect. So big and beautiful and right for this dream.

She smiled. “Look at you. You look wonderful. I did good.”

His eyes twinkled, and he motioned her toward a full-length mirror. “No, sweet. Look at
you.
”

Pleased, Caroline walked to the mirror. No hobbling or limping, of course. In her dreams she always had both her legs.

She stood before the mirror and turned this way and that, admiring her nightgown. It fell in yards around her, all the way to the floor. Her bare feet peeked out from beneath its hem, identical twins, pink, healthy and whole.

Meical joined her. “You're a powerful dreamer.”

“It's always like this, except this time it feels real.”

She bent and touched the perfect toes, wiggled them, laughed, stomped her foot and pirouetted in circles until she giggled from dizziness. Meical laughed and caught her just before the world turned upside down. He set her on her feet and took a step back.

Caroline locked her gaze on his. Unafraid. Empowered. Aroused. She hadn't a care. She felt it in the marrow of her bones. This was
her world.
Here she was
safe. Here she was free. Here she had nothing to lose. She'd made it up. And now she had made Meical part of it.

She'd probably wake up in a moment or two and struggle to remember these things for her dream journal. Back to reality, with her fear, pain and one good leg. But not yet.

Caroline looked Meical up and down again, as boldly as she pleased, and watched his body respond beneath the close-fitting pants he wore. A shock of excitement licked over her erogenous zones and made her face burn. She didn't know how to put it into words, this thing she wanted. She'd shunned the very thought of it for so long.

Meical looked pretty clueless. He just stood there looking around with a smile that was pleasant and unknowing. It made her want him more.

He ran his hand over the bed curtains and laughed softly. “Empaths have vivid dreams, to be sure.”

She reached up and touched his smooth cheek. “I want to find out how vivid.”

He looked confused for a moment, then smiled slowly and pressed her hand to his chest. Caroline felt his heart pounding under his soft white shirt.

“You did say,” he cautioned, “that this isn't what I need. It's possible it isn't what you need either.”

She moved closer to him, wanting to see what he felt like in her arms. It had been so long since she'd held anyone. “Yes, but nothing's real here. It's all make-believe. I probably won't remember half of it.”

He bent his head toward hers, drawing her closer.
His arms felt so sure and strong. Closer. Closer. “No, no. Anything worth doing…” His mouth was a breath away from hers. “…is worth making memorable.”

Caroline rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. He closed his hands over hers and pulled her arms down to her sides. Catching the ribbon at the collar of her nightgown between his thumb and forefinger, he slowly pulled it loose from its petite bow and eased the garment off her shoulders. He bent to kiss her throat as he slid the nightgown down to her waist.

Caroline drew a shuddering breath.

“Don't be frightened, Caroline,” he whispered in her ear. “You're in control here. I'm just a part of the background.”

He sank gracefully to his knees before her. With a soft exclamation, he took her breast in his mouth, first one and then the other. He rolled the flat of his tongue over her nipple and caught her close when she bucked away from him.

“Meical…” she breathed, closing her eyes, “…how can this not be real?”

“It isn't. That is one thing you must not question.”

His big hands circled her hips and tugged the nightgown down to her knees. Wrapping one arm around her, he lifted her, drew it away and looked at her as though he had put her on a plate and was sharpening the cutlery.

“Caroline, you are so beautiful.” He looked up at her. “Not that you need me to tell you that. You surely know it's so.”

Tears burned her eyes, as real as anything else here.
Beautiful, yes—on the inside, as a person, as a whole person inside. But physically? How long had it been since she'd let herself feel beautiful in that way? She had allowed all thoughts of her physical beauty to slip away in her trauma and rage.

She wanted it back, everything she'd felt about herself before the attack.

Caroline swept a hand through Meical's hair. She'd wanted to do that from the moment she met him. “You can't make me feel beautiful, you know. I have to do that for myself.”

“But I can help, can I not?”

He stood up and leaned close to her face to lick a tear from her cheek and rolled it around in his exquisite mouth as though it were sugar.

“There are sweeter things to make you cry, Caroline,” he whispered. He drew his shirt off, keeping his gaze fixed on her. “I think we both know why you brought me here. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Caroline watched, mesmerized, as he dropped his shirt on the floor. When he reached for the broad black belt he wore, she could scarcely breathe. He unfastened it slowly and slid it out with a whirring sound. His fingers closed over the button fly of his breeches. By the time he was unclothed, her breath came in gasps, and she shook all over. He was so big and beautiful.

Meical caught her hand and drew her into a kiss that was no more than a tease. She moaned, wanting to devour him. He backed them into the bed and drew her down on top of him.

Yes, this was exactly what she wanted, what she had
wanted the moment she pulled him out of the snow. Ears roaring, head spinning, drugged by arousal, Caroline kissed him again and then knelt between his knees. She just wanted to look at him, take in his long, muscular body with her gaze. A field of riches. All hers.

Meical reached over his head and clasped the headboard with both hands. His voice was as hypnotic as the dose of adrenaline running rampant in her bloodstream. “You have nothing to fear. You're the one in control. You cannot be hurt. You may do as you please. I will do only what you tell me to do. And if you're frightened, we'll stop.”

Whoa. Meical seemed considerably less clueless suddenly. Was she really in control?

A schism opened beneath Caroline. The sunshine dimmed a little and the colors in the room faded. The room itself seemed to tremble as though it might crumble and blow away.

Caroline reached out quickly and flattened her hand on Meical's taut abdomen, like reaching for a lifesaver, and the room became bright and colorful again.

No darkness. No pain. No fear.

She slid her fingers downward, following a line of chestnut hair down to his shaft. Her need intensified with the smooth, soft feel of him in her hands, hardness beneath smoothness, heat and throbbing life that made her long to have him inside her.

“I think my imagination got carried away,” she whispered, running both her hands up, then down. “You're very well endowed for a dream.”

Meical laughed softly, but the laugh ended in a grunt
in the back of his throat. She closed one hand over the head of his erection and with the other hand sought the sensitive place beneath his scrotum. She watched his mouth part and listened to his breath come faster. He liked that. Yes, he did. How awesome to feel this power, the power to please and not be afraid.