the tornado going on in her head, another logical thought made its way through. “It has to be Damien’s wife, Estelle, or Marissa’s ex, Harvey. Unless there are other suspects that I didn’t learn about in my research.”
Lucian lifted his shoulder. “Before Damien, Marissa had a lot of lovers. Some married. Some very jealous.”
“Great. I’m not even sure I believe in ghostly possession, but that doesn’t matter. If the person who wrote that note believes it, then we’ve become his or her targets.”
“Trust me, I didn’t believe in it a hundred percent, either, until you walked into my office.”
They weren’t just talking about possession now. But rather the effects of it.
Well, one effect in particular.
“If Marissa had a sexual thing for so many men, then why was it different with Damien?” She shook her head. “It was different, wasn’t it? Because I’d hate to think I’ll start lusting after every man who crosses my path.”
“It was different. It is different.”
There it was again. That totally male voice, pulling her right back in. But Olivia rethought that. Lucian didn’t even have to speak to make her body hum for him. It was that magic again. That pull. So hot and urgent. Unlike everything else in the room.
“Death,” she repeated in a mumble. “The smell of it is everywhere.”
Lucian didn’t disagree. He took her by the fingers again, urging her from the chair and toward him. The sensible voice in her head warned her to stay put, but did she?
No.
She hadn’t done a single sensible thing since she’d walked into this office.
It felt as if she floated to her feet. Floated toward him, and Olivia braced herself for another kiss. It didn’t happen, though. Instead, Lucian pulled her into his arms and held her.
More instant heat.
A raging fire that begged her to do exactly what both of their bodies wanted. She fought it, and was winning—a little—when another image flashed through her head. Marissa was naked, her legs spread on this very desk, and Damien was giving her some serious tongue in the center of all that heat.
Mercy, he was good at it, too.
Finally, you’re back.
“What’s wrong?” Lucian asked. “You gasped.”
Had she? It was a mild reaction considering what was going on in her head. Maybe it was being in this room that fueled it. Or just being near Lucian.
Lucian didn’t wait for her to answer. His mouth came to hers again. Taking. Not a soft gentle kiss of comfort. Not this. There was no comfort in the hungry assault of their mouths. This was all white-hot heat, fueled with lethal adrenaline and emotion.
“Please,” she demanded.
But Olivia had no idea what that even meant. She should be begging him to stop, but there was no way her body was going to let her do that.
The sensations slammed through her. Fast. Hard. Strong. Resisting wasn’t possible. So, she took everything he offered.
Everything.
Lucian latched onto her hair with one hand, the back of her neck with the other, and hauled her harder against him. Until she could feel every hard inch of him.
It still wasn’t enough.
She was on fire, burning from the inside out, and she needed it to stop. Needed some relief.
Struggling for position, she shoved him against the bookcase. Her hands were fast and frantic. Like her breath. Like the hot, needy look in his eyes. It was a race. Against time. Against themselves.
And the images came.
Of another kiss. Another slam against the bookcase. Not violent, exactly. Just rough, hard foreplay that was quickly leading to rough, hard sex.
Olivia heard the rip of fabric. Her dress. Except it wasn’t hers. Lucian shoved up her top, but Damien didn’t do the same to Marissa. Damien and Marissa tore at each other’s clothes, and the moment they were free, he lifted her, burying himself deep inside her.
Marissa came in a flash, coiling her arms and legs around Damien.
“Hell,” Lucian said at the same moment that Olivia said, “Shit.”
If Lucian hadn’t stepped back, Olivia was sure she would have had an orgasm, too. Right then, right there.
The images fluttered away, and Lucian and she stood staring at each other. Breaths sawing. Mouths open. Stunned.
Aroused beyond belief.
“No,” Olivia mumbled.
She couldn’t be feeling this. Couldn’t be thinking of shoving down Lucian’s zipper and having him recreate those images with her. It was sick, and if she didn’t get out of there fast, then she wouldn’t be able to stop herself.
“I have to go,” she said.
And she did. Olivia bolted from the office and headed for the stairs. She didn’t make it far before she heard Lucian coming for her.
“Wait!” he called out.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw something that didn’t help steady her. He had a gun, and he was shoving it in the back waist of his pants.
Olivia didn’t stop this time. She kept moving, trying to outrun the panic attack that was crushing down on her. The gun, too.
God, why had Lucian grabbed that?
Did he intend to stop her with it?
The receptionist was still on the phone but said something that Olivia didn’t bother to catch. She couldn’t hear now because her heartbeat was drumming in her ears. Her chest was tight. Her body and mouth tingling for another dose of Lucian.
And she got one.
He caught up with her the moment that Olivia stepped outside, using his body to stop her from running out into the parking lot. No images this time of Marissa and Damien going at each other. Just Lucian right in her face while he pressed himself against her.
“I don’t do things like this,” she said. “I don’t kiss men I don’t know.” Laughable since she had done it.
Or had she?
She shook her head. “I can’t become Marissa.”
“And you won’t, not permanently, anyway. I think they want us to help them.”
“Help them how?” she snapped. “Have sex for them?”
The corner of his mouth lifted again, and he brushed
