she could only mean him harm. He sensed the attention of the man in the van. He must wonder why she lingered here.
“You must be mistaken.” It tore at his soul to utter the lie. “I’m certain we’ve never met.” Again he turned, but this time she came toward him, one hand reaching out to him. She stumbled, and only Eric’s preternatural speed enabled him to whirl in time. He caught her as she plunged forward. His arms encircled her slender frame and he pulled her to his chest.
He couldn’t make himself let go. He held her to him and she didn’t resist. Her face lay upon his chest, above his pounding heart. Her scent enslaved him. When her arms came to his shoulders, as if to steady herself, only to slide around his neck, he felt he’d die a thousand deaths before he’d let her go.
She lifted her head, tipped it back and gazed into his eyes. “I do know you, don’t I?”
2
Tamara tried to blink away the drugged daze into which she seemed to have slipped. She stood so close to this stranger that every part of her body pressed against his from her thighs to her chest. Her arms encircled his corded neck. His iron ones clasped tight around her waist. She’d tipped her head back to look into his eyes, and she felt as if she were trapped in them.
He’s so familiar!
They shone, those eyes, like perfectly round bits of jet amid sooty sable lashes. His dark brows, just as sooty and thick, made a slash above each eye, and she had the oddest certainty that he would cock one when puzzled or amused in a way that would make her heart stop.
But I don’t know him.
His full lips parted, as if he’d say something, then closed once more. How soft his lips! How smooth, and how wonderful when he smiled. Oh, how she’d missed his smile.
What am I saying? I’ve never met this man before in my life.
His chest was a broad and solid wall beneath hers. She felt his heart thudding powerfully inside it. His shoulders were so wide they invited a weary head to drop upon them. His hair gleamed in the moonlight, as black as her own, but without the riotous curls. It fell instead in long, satin waves over his shoulders, when it wasn’t tied back with the small velvet ribbon in what he called a queue. She fingered the ribbon at his nape, having known it was there before she’d touched it. She felt an irrational urge to tug it free and run her fingers through his glorious hair—to pull great masses of it to her face and rub them over her cheeks.
She felt her brows draw together, and she forced her lips to part. “Who are you?”
“You don’t know?” His voice sent another surge of recognition coursing through her.
“I…feel as if I do, but…” She frowned harder and shook her head in frustration. Her gaze fell to his lips again and she forced it away. The sensation that bubbled in her felt like joyous relief. She felt as if some great void in her heart had suddenly been filled simply by seeing this familiar man. The words that swirled and eddied in her mind, and which she only barely restrained herself from blurting, were absurd. Thank God you’ve come back…I’ve missed you so…please, don’t leave me again…I’ll die if you leave me again.
She felt tears filling her eyes, and she wanted to turn away so he wouldn’t see them. The pain in his flickered and then vanished, so she wondered if she’d truly seen it there. He stared so intensely, and the peculiar feeling that he somehow saw inside her mind hit her with ridiculous certainty.
She wanted to turn and run away. She wanted him to hold her forever. I’m losing my mind.
“No, sweet. You are perfectly sane, never doubt that.” His voice caressed her.
She drew a breath. She hadn’t spoken the thought aloud, had she? He’d…my God, he’d read her mind.
Impossible! He couldn’t have. She stared at his sensual mouth again, licked her lips. Had he read her mind? I want you to kiss me, she thought, deliberately.
A silent voice whispered a reply inside her brain—his voice. A test? I couldn’t think of a more pleasant one.
She watched, mesmerized, as his head came down. His mouth relaxed over hers, and she allowed her lips to part at his gentle nudging. At the instant his moist, warm tongue slipped into her mouth to stroke hers, a jolt went through her. Not a sudden rush of physical desire. No, this felt like an actual electric current, hammering from the point of contact, through her body to exit through the soles of her feet. It rocked her and left her weak.
His hands moved up, over her back. His fingertips danced along her nape and higher, until he’d buried them in her hair. With his hands at the back of her head he pressed her nearer, tilting her to the angle that best fit him, and preventing her pulling away as his tongue stroked deeper, kindling fires in her belly.
Finally his lips slid away from hers, and she thought the kiss had ended. Instead it only changed form. He trailed his moist lips along the line of her jaw. He flicked his tongue over the sensitized skin just below her ear. He moved his lips caressingly to her throat, and her head fell back on its own. Her hands cupped his head, and pressed him closer. Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt so light-headed she was sure she must be about to faint.
He sucked the tender skin between his teeth. She felt sharp incisors skim the soft flesh as he suckled her there like a babe at its mother’s breast. She felt him shudder, heard him groan as if tortured. He lifted his head from her, and his hands straightened hers so he could gaze into her eyes. For an instant there seemed to be light in them—an unnatural glow shining from somewhere beyond the ebony.
His voice, when he spoke, sounded rough and shaky. It was no longer the soothing honey that had coated her ears earlier. “What is it you want of me? And take care not to ask too much, Tamara. I fear I can refuse you nothing.”
She frowned. “I don’t want—” She sucked air through her teeth, stepping out of his arms. “How do you know my name?”
Slowly the spell faded. She breathed deeply, evenly. What had she done? Since when did she go around kissing strangers in the middle of the night?
“The same way you know mine,” he said, his voice regaining some of its former strength and tone.
“I don’t know yours! And how could you—why did you…” She shook her head angrily and couldn’t finish the sentence. After all, she’d kissed him as much as he’d kissed her.
“Come, Tamara, we both know you summoned me here, so stop this pretense. I only want to know what troubles you.”
“Summoned you—I most certainly did not summon you. How could I? I don’t even know you!”
One brow shot upward. Tamara’s hand flew to her mouth because she’d pictured him with just such an expression. She had no time to consider it, though, since his next odd question came so quickly. “And do you know him?”
He glanced toward the street and she followed his gaze, catching her breath when she saw Curt’s DPI van parked there. She knew it was his by the rust spot just beneath the side mirror on the driver’s door. She could barely believe he had the audacity to spy on her. On an indignant sigh she whispered, “He followed me. Why, that heavy-handed son of a—”
“Very good, although I suspect his reason for being posted there is known
