stirred, and her lips parted. Tony stilled. Once again he felt his mind empty, and then all he knew was an almost overpowering desire to fit his mouth to hers and throw caution to the winds. If she struggled, that would be the end of it. If she responded…He ruthlessly clamped down the images that poured into his mind. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her. And it wouldn’t be smart. He forced himself to rise and then switched off the lamp next to the couch.
He hadn’t grown up in the hotel business without developing a canny instinct about people—and Lily McNeil was trouble, both professionally and personally. Getting involved with her would definitely not be smart. He let his gaze rest on her again. But it sure as hell would be fun. And when was the last time he’d let himself think of doing something just for the fun of it? Not since his father’s death when he’d had to shoulder the responsibility of the hotel. Eons ago, it seemed.
Giving his head a quick shake, Tony made himself walk to the upper level and through the bedroom door. What he needed was a good night’s sleep. Whoever the hell Lily McNeil was, he was going to need all of his wits about him. And he’d better keep his libido under control.
Just then, lightning flashed. He saw it split the sky, and the thunder clapped so loud, so close, that the windows rattled. A warning, he thought. A second later, the lights flickered and went out.
Definitely a warning, he thought as he made his way into the bedroom.
LILY FOUGHT HER WAY UP from a dream. She’d been with her lover. He’d touched her hair and her cheek. His fingers had been callused, arousing. She’d been so sure he was about to kiss her. In that moment when he’d seemed to hesitate, she’d wanted so badly to open her eyes, to reach out and cover his hand with hers, to draw him closer. But she’d been trapped in that paralysis between sleeping and waking. Don’t go. She’d tried to say the words, but no sound had come out.
And then he’d moved away.
The sharp sting of rejection brought her fully to the surface, and the moment she opened her eyes, she realized the suite was pitch black. A glance at the windows told her that nearby buildings were dark, too. A power failure. Rain pelted the glass in an unrelenting rhythm. In the distance, a flash of lightning forked through the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder. The noise from the storm—that’s what had pulled her out of her dream, not her lover walking away. The dull pain of failure still lingered from the dream. Ridiculous, she thought as she sat up. She was not going to let her fear of failure creep into her dreams, too.
After pushing herself up off the couch, she used the furniture to guide her as she made her way to the upper level. Failure was a part of her past, and she was going to make sure it did not seep into her future. She was going to go back to sleep in that bed made for lovers. Then she was going to conjure up her dream lover and make sure he didn’t pull away.
Running her hand along the wall, she made it to the door she was sure opened into the bedroom. The darker shadow three feet in front of her had to be the bed. Once she reached it, she felt her way to the side near the windows where she recalled seeing the step-stool. There. Once her foot connected with it, she climbed up on the mattress and slipped beneath the covers.
A yawn overtook her as her head settled on the pillow. The bed was so warm, so welcoming, as if a lover was already there, waiting for her. Her lips curved in a smile. Dame Vera had promised her one, after all. So what if it was only one conjured by her mind? A dream lover didn’t interfere with your life. Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind of everything, then concentrated on calling up a picture of her dream lover. Visualization. That was the key. She hadn’t seen him too clearly in the dream, so he could be anything she wanted him to be.
Slowly, she brought his features into focus. A strong nose, Roman, she decided. And the cheekbones of a warrior. His mouth was masculine, but the whole effect would be softened by dimples that appeared only when he smiled. And then there were his eyes. They were the color of dark, forbidden chocolate. Irresistible. The warmth of the bed began to seep through her. As she felt herself begin to sink into sleep, her dream lover’s features became even clearer in her mind. Her last thought before sleep overtook her was that she’d seen her dream lover somewhere before.
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