Irrational Arousal

Irrational Arousal Summer Devon

That guy you glanced at…the one you thought was so gorgeous. What do you do when you’re suddenly seeing what he’s seeing, feeling what he’s feeling, and it’s all hot, sweaty and very R-rated? Gia’s life takes a turn for the bizarre when she develops a connection with construction worker Will, and the connection is all sexual. Not only can she see and sense his fantasies, he can visit hers too. And for two strangers, they begin to have some pretty intimate daydreams about each other. Anger, and concern about the sudden onset of shared insanity, are thrust to the wayside when Gia and Will finally meet and find that even outside the fantasies, they can’t keep their hands off each other. Some kind of weird lust is driving them—to mutually orgasmic results. While Gia’s loving it, Will just wants a normal life, but soon realizes they might never turn down the heat and return to normal again. And craziness aside, does he really want the “cure” if it means losing Gia?

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Irrational Arousal ISBN 9781419924156 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Irrational Arousal Copyright © 2009 Summer Devon Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower Photography and cover art by Les Byerley Electronic book publication September 2009 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

IRRATIONAL AROUSAL Summer Devon

Dedication To the people in the Farmington, Connecticut, Borders (aka my workspace).

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Advil: Boots Company PLC, The Corona: Cerveceria Modelo, S.A. de C.V. Gnarls Barkley: Gnarls Barkley, LLC Google: Google, Inc. Hello Kitty: Sanrio Company, Ltd. Holiday Inn Express: Holiday Hospitality Corporation Honda: Honda Motor Co., Ltd. Marlboro: Altria Group, Inc. Oprah: Harpo Productions, Inc. Rohypnol: Hoffmann-La Roche Inc. Saturn: Saturn Corporation Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands Toyota: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha TA Toyota Motor Corporation

Summer Devon

Chapter One Gia hadn’t actually thought about Mike Carter for three whole days, a new record. But she must have conjured him with that thought because just as she’d congratulated herself on banishing him from her brain, there he was. She stood on the corner looking into his Toyota as he sat in traffic waiting for the light to change. Naturally she made a fool of herself waving at him. Mike immediately ducked his head—but he wasn’t nodding. He seemed to frown at something on the seat next to him. He was probably pretending not to notice her, so of course she lowered her hand at once and let her gaze shift. A big mistake. She looked straight into the eyes of a scruffy old man and caught his glare. The glittering gray eyes seemed to bore into hers. For a moment she could have sworn she felt actual pain—the weird old guy’s glare seemed that sharp. She tried a weak smile but he’d already shambled off, mumbling. She suspected he thought she’d been waving at him. There weren’t a lot of homeless guys around town, but with his shabby tan overcoat and ill-fitting red hat, he might be one of them. She watched him dip a dirty hand into his overcoat and pull out a bag of old french fries. He ate one, then paused to glare up at the backhoe at the construction site and mutter some more. Then he twisted back as if he wanted to catch her eye again. She immediately inspected her shoe as if she found it fascinating. Doing the same sort of eye-contact avoidance dodge as Mike Carter. The old guy’s glare was almost as unsettling as being ignored by the man she’d once loved. Still loved. Still carried a torch for, as her mother would say. That sounded even more hopelessly silly than love. The light changed, Mike drove off, and Gia hefted the cloth grocery bag’s strap a little higher onto her shoulder. She walked around the orange cones marking the construction site. Her apartment stood about twenty feet away from the mess, and starting at seven that morning she’d heard the growl and backup beep of equipment, and heavy thuds as chunks of concrete landed in waiting dump trucks. Hard to make job interview phone calls with that racket going on, so she’d gone out to run errands instead. After she put away her groceries, she stared out into space and depressed herself with thoughts of unemployment and then of Mike. She gave a groan of disgust when she caught herself pining about the way he shrugged, a half hitch of the shoulder. Missing him had grown dull months ago. Time to check the computer again and see if any potential employer had emailed in the last twenty minutes.

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Outside, machines beeped and thumped. Gia peeked out the window to examine the work site to try to figure out why the heck they were turning her corner into a big pit. Men leaned over to attach chains to some huge concrete thing. They yelled to each other, talked into walkie-talkies, ambled around. Gia noticed a couple of them weren’t bad-looking. A shame she didn’t have binoculars so she could take a closer look. Now that had to be a good sign. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d paid attention to a male who wasn’t Mike. Whistling under her breath, she walked to the bathroom and peeled off her clothes. Time for a shower. And as the water beat down on her she remembered the blue-jeaned workers. The nice biceps and that one guy’s butt. Screw Mike Carter. Or no, don’t screw him. The construction guy off to the side watching, arms akimbo, gloved hands shoved into his tool belt. Yeah, that dark-haired one with the low-slung belt and the outstanding body. She’d take that belt off for him, peel the safety vest and grubby tee shirt from his body. Gia gnawed on her bottom lip. She unhooked the showerhead and aimed it lower. The water pulsed directly onto her clit. She didn’t usually do this sort of thing. She’d gone into hibernation and didn’t get the urge often. But today, something seemed to blossom inside her and… Why not?

***** Will waited for the signal to lower the arm and thought about what a mistake it had been to agree to this job. He didn’t mind operating the heavy machinery now and then—the pay was pretty good for a union member and he was paid up. But truth was he wasn’t desperate for the money. His apartment was nearly free and his school loans reasonable. And anyway, no job was worth running into Pettigrew every day. Good thing he’d only signed on temporarily. The regular guy would be back in a couple of weeks and Greg wasn’t going to convince Will to stay on a second longer even if he tried to play that family card. Will had a new life now. One that didn’t involve being outside in cold and heat—at least not every day. And one where he didn’t have to see or think about the man who was fucking Cammi. As Will waited for the crew to attach chains to haul the new concrete housing into place, he watched the jerk-off Pettigrew stand around, hands tucked into his belt, grinning like a moron. He caught Will’s eye and the asshole winked. Yeah, that smirker’s wink said. I got her and she’s good. You were right. Good. Pettigrew and Cammi. What on earth she saw in that swaggering, loud-mouthed, tattooed— Will blinked. Because suddenly his vision blurred or something. He still saw Pettigrew standing on the pile of red dirt, feet apart, hands tucked but… The man was naked. And then. Between that moment and the next moment, Will was seized by a kind of tidal wave of out-of-control desire he hadn’t felt since high school. A swift hardon. Instant mind-draining lust as the picture filled him.

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Pettigrew and a woman, screwing hard, right there on the pile of dirt. Cammi? Sweet, voluptuous Cam with her full hips and… No, the woman he saw had long runner’s legs and long dark hair. Smaller breasts. She had high cheekbones, a pointed nose and chin. Her mouth went wide with a silent shout of passion. Will saw the woman far too clearly for a man wide awake and staring out at a bunch of grimy guys working a job. Jesus, Will’s body froze, craving that imaginary woman’s touch. Stymied by the roar of lust in his head, Will stopped functioning. His mouth dropped open as he gasped and writhed on that dusty seat. His hands clenched tight on the controls, waiting for something. Heart pounding, ragged breath, Will tried to haul back control over his own body. Heart attack? No, a major hard-on was not a symptom he’d ever heard. And then expanding pleasure. Tightening. Holy shit, he didn’t come, but a pang of something deep inside him felt as if it dropped diving into a huge warm pool of sweet water. Sliding and dropping. Greg knocked on his side window “Hey, asshole, any time you’re ready.” Will panted, struggling to steady his breath. He held up a shaking hand to show he’d heard. A minute later, as carefully as an apprentice at his first job, he lifted, shifted and lowered the huge block of concrete. When he finished, he swallowed and closed his eyes. No more naked Pettigrew, thank God. Nothing left of the weirdness but gentle, lapping contentment, post-orgasmic—the rings after a rock is dropped into the pool. Along with a big dose of old-fashioned terror. His heartbeat slowed to normal and Will considered the options. Should he check himself into the ER? The funny farm? The day ended in less than an hour. He could decide then. As he operated the backhoe, he waited for more symptoms. Nothing happened. He’d agreed to grab something with his brother-in-law who always wanted to go out before heading home. Greg wasn’t any Einstein but he had a dose of good common sense. He might have some ideas. Even if he didn’t, Will just needed to talk, describe the incident out loud to see if it sounded as crazy as it felt. “I’m up for a cup of coffee,” Will said as he climbed down. “That’s it.” “Too hot for coffee. Come on. You’re such an old stick in the mud.” Greg slapped his shoulder. “Manda wouldn’t mind if I go out if it’s with you.” Will rolled his eyes. “Fine, but don’t use me as an excuse for barhopping. I’m not in the mood.” “You never are anymore.” They walked over to the bar less than a block from the site. Will drank the Corona and rubbed the cold bottle against his forehead. Usually he liked to shower and change before showing up at a bar—even the grungy café with outside seats. But today he still wore dust-covered jeans and the grimy work boots. Because they hadn’t bothered to stop at Greg’s truck, they carried their hard hats and vests. 8

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He drank half the beer before he could gather the courage to talk. “Listen. Greg, the weirdest thing happened about an hour ago. You think we could be breathing in some sort of fumes?” He described what happened, leaving out the description of Pettigrew naked. “Sort of like a sex hallucination but it wasn’t mine. It was like someone inside me.” “You’re gay now? Getting pegged?” “Someone was definitely having sex. Or something. It wasn’t me.” “A sex dream. Dude, dozing off on the job isn’t something you should be telling me about. I’m your freaking boss.” “I was wide awake. It was the weirdest-ass thing. Sort of like being a voyeur but I didn’t get a choice and it was more…” He paused drank some beer and shivered as he considered his body’s response. It wasn’t a shudder of lust. “Definitely more active.” Greg snorted. “You just need to get out more. Get over Cammi and get your butt back in the saddle. That’s what’s going on. And you’re so caught up in this new idea that you gotta be monogamous and totally boring.” Greg held up his hands. “I know, I know, they’re not the same thing. Don’t tell your sister I said that. Anyway you’re whatsit. Frustrated sexually and refusing to admit it.” So much for Greg’s common sense. “Thank you, Dr. Freud.” Will drank down the rest of the beer. “Let’s go.” “Just one more,” Greg pleaded. “And look. That redhead is checking you out. Definitely.” His brother-in-law’s impeccable radar for women was spot-on as usual. The woman at the outdoor bar had frizzy hair, almost as long as the woman he’d seen in his hallucination. Tall and pretty. She smiled and raised a glass in Will’s direction. Not coy. Watching her, he decided he liked that in a woman. Yeah, so he wanted to leave behind the days of partying and acting like an idiot. Didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to leave the party by himself. Greg gave him a nudge in the ribs. “Go on. I’ll order you a beer, you go hunt that prey.” Will went to the bar. “Hi, cutie.” She moved closer to him. “Mmm. You smell like dust and asphalt. That your hard hat on the floor over there?” She smelled like some kind of fruity alcoholic drink. He nodded. She put her hand on his forearm and squeezed. She giggled. “Oh, honey. That is nice.” She turned to another woman, this one in tight jeans. “You have got to feel this.” They both went into a giggling fit that left them gasping. Greg watching, grinning, gave him a thumbs-up. He had two beers in front of him and, after a moment, strolled casually over. He handed Will his beer. “So did you offer the ladies a drink?” Greg asked, gazing at the redhead’s butt.

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“Another drink, you mean.” The shorter blonde squealed. Her voice hit a note that would make dogs howl. The redhead took the beer from Greg. “I’m sick of margaritas. I’ll have this instead.” She inched up to Will. She smelled of the drink but also something female and flowery. Her hand slid over his arm again, up onto his shoulder. “Too bad this place doesn’t have music so we could dance. But we don’t need music.” Just like that, she’d slid her arms around him and pressed her warm soft body to his, rubbing and swaying to silent music. Holy crap. He mouthed the words to Greg. Hard to recollect that hot necking with a semi-drunk female was not the way he wanted to lead his life. In fact, Will might have stayed and let his own hands discover the woman who’d plastered herself to his body, but then he saw the smirk on Greg’s face as he examined the busty one who smiled back. Danger, danger, Will Taylor. He couldn’t decide what Manda would do if she found out that Greg was hitting on bimbos in a bar. Probably she’d pick a response of betrayed pathos or nut-bashing anger—either way, he was uninterested. With a groan, Will loosened the redhead’s hands from around his neck. He resisted the urge to taste that liquor-flavored mouth and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Gotta go. Um, thanks. Nice dance.” She looked up at him bleary-eyed but smiling. Still looking into her face, Will said, “Come on, Greg. Time to get you back to your wife.” The redhead’s smile vanished. She turned away from them, and with a clumsy hike and wiggle got back on the barstool. She’d had more to drink than he’d first suspected. “You’re right, you’re right,” Greg said, and snorted as the blonde gave him a dirty look then joined her friend. Greg paid their tab and they walked through the cool fall evening to the pickup truck. “You drive.” Greg tossed him the keys and slid into the cab. “Two beers and you’re incapacitated? You are such a cheap date,” Will said. He wished he was too. The bizarre incident in the backhoe still haunted him. It seemed to make him horny, which was a strange combo. Fear and craving. Greg cackled. “You know you could have had that redhead. Holy shit, she was hot. And the way that other one was checking me out.” “Yeah, and I’ll make you a deal,” Will said, glad for the distraction from sex. He’d take on the role of brother. “Look all you want. If I find out you touched anyone but Manda, I will beat the ever-living crap out of you.” Greg sighed. “I could have sworn you’d renounced your caveman ways. That’s exactly how you said it too. Fights are for cavemen.” Will shot him a sidelong look. “All right, maybe I’ll just talk you to death. But I don’t get it, Greg. You got a really good thing with Manda. I mean, I’d kill to get something like what you two have. And you’d screw it up?”

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Greg flopped his head against the seatback and groped for the seat belt. “The chase is fun. You know it is. That moment you know you’ve got them, but haven’t made good on the promise. Sweet possibilities. That moment you touch someone for the first time. Ah shit, it’s good.” “I don’t want to hear this.” Will gripped the wheel, annoyed with Greg, annoyed with how excited his own body had gotten from a little rub by a tipsy stranger. By the time he met Cammi, he’d figured out that sex with a stranger might be fun, but in the long run it left him cold. Then he’d fallen for her and figured out what he wanted instead. Even if was pretty god-awful when she left, he didn’t want to settle for less, so he settled for nothing much at all. Usually he didn’t miss the giddy pleasure of picking up strangers, but after that strange incident that afternoon, the old restlessness was back. Maybe he’d let Manda set him up with a date again. Ms. Riddell, his landlady, was always mentioning some granddaughter or niece of a friend. If they were anything like Mrs. R’s two whiney, entitled nieces, he wasn’t interested. “Don’t get me wrong.” Greg wasn’t finished after all. “When I’m boning Manda—” “I so do not want to hear another word,” Will interrupted, but his brother-in-law rolled right over him. “It’s the best.” Greg belched. “There’s no one else in the world then. It’s her. You know? Her. Mine.” “Yeah, okay,” Will said. He stopped for a red light. “Good. Now shut up.” “And the rest of that crap too. I mean…” He apparently lost interest in the sentence and fell silent. Will wondered if Greg had managed to down some beers while he wasn’t watching. Greg wore a sappy grin as he stared out the window. “Yeah. You’re right. The goddamn marriage thing means you’re not,” he hiccupped gently, “you’re not alone.” Will dumped Greg, promised to pick him up with at seven the next morning, and went home. Greg’s tipsy declaration of the joys of marriage had left him feeling a strange combo of sort of relieved about his sister’s marriage and discontented with his own life. He should have been ready to flop into bed after a couple of beers and a longass day, but he still felt jangled from the bizarre arousal. If anything like that happened again, he would definitely consult an expert. As he took a shower, he thought about the redhead pressing against him, but when he closed his eyes, he didn’t see her. That woman he’d imagined with Pettigrew. Her face and body seemed too real for a drifting fantasy. For a moment his eyes flew open and stung as they filled with water. Jesus, he needed to get to the bottom of this.

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Greg wouldn’t bother taking steps, so Will would have to check with the town clerk’s office to discover what chemicals could be lurking in the dirt in that corner. He couldn’t do anything tonight. Just act like nothing was going on and ignore the strange shit. Relax. Maybe that would make it go away. He closed his eyes again, and stepped back under the spray. He reached for his cock. There was an easy way to get himself to relax, and if he did it quickly, he could watch the last of the game.

***** Gia went to bed early and lay under the covers with a to-do list floating through her mind. Laundry, updating her online resume, phoning her mother and…holy jumping— What was that? She sat up in bed as her breasts tightened and her body swelled and she suddenly wanted, needed, oh God, she had to have that inside her. She had to be filled. That? What? Her mind flashed on a man’s body. An anonymous shot from chest to knees, like the seediest online date listings. A wet, male body fully aroused. Only instead of disgust, her body registered pure lust. That is gorgeous, her brain announced. Strong, tanned arms, hands that touched and stroked…and oh, please, please, that man and that erection and, oh. She squeaked in alarm, and the sound of her own voice banished the image as quickly as it had come. She pushed off her covers, panting and perspiring. And yes, her body, which usually took its own sweet, long time to climax, now clenched and relaxed pleasantly. A climax? Less than three minutes after thinking about calling her mother? No, not even that long ago. And that really hadn’t been an orgasm. Had it? “What the hell?” she said aloud into the dark. Wide awake now, she got out of bed and shuffled over to her computer. She booted it up and began to Google “delirium”, and when that didn’t work, she tried “tactile disturbances.” After an hour of looking, she found a lot of fiction, mostly smut, and nothing else. She crawled back into bed. As she dozed off she had the fleeting sensations of margarita-flavored kisses and the flash of a woman’s red hair. That night, she dreamed of her hands on unfamiliar plastic knobs that slid and turned. The strange sensations didn’t end in her sleep because she woke with the sense of a man in her bed, stroking her breast, a hand pressing urgently between her legs. And just as she snuggled back into the delicious warmth of being enfolded in an embrace, she blearily thought, no, she was supposed to be alone. Yeah, no one lay in her bed behind her. No one touched her. That jolted her totally awake. And the sensation vanished abruptly. Almost fast enough for her to imagine it had been a vivid dream of sex, but not quite quick enough. Her breasts still tingled. Maybe this apartment building that had been built in the 1920s was haunted. Great explanation—except she didn’t believe in ghosts.

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Gia hauled out of bed quickly and headed for the coffee machine. Time to act as normally as possible. Behave as if nothing was wrong and life would return to normal. Hallucinations, that was all. If necessary, she’d pay for the COBRA health insurance and get herself into a doctor. Better than hearing voices though, she thought as she stared into space. Just the memory of that strange episode made her body swell with heat. About once a week or so, she allowed herself the time to work off the tension of her body. But usually her sexuality lay dormant, buried and almost forgotten, and the touch of her hand on her clitoris working herself into climax was about as erotic as brushing her teeth—and almost less erotic than going for a run. Now her skin tingled, her muscles had the lovely ache she only vaguely recalled experiencing with the two men she’d slept with in her life. What did it mean? Excitement over…nothing. But at least it was excitement, right? Hormones, for sure. Strange how a few chemicals could scare the bejeezus out of her at the same time it made her feel more alive than she had in months. She downed a bowl of cereal that lay on her stomach like soggy lead. Next on her schedule was more job hunting. She’d gotten six months pay when the company closed, but she had to find something for her own sanity—if she had any left. So she started her search online and only strayed for a few minutes to look up hallucinations again. Several times as she worked, her body seemed to respond to the strangest things. No more huge, hurtling toward full-blown sexual arousal, but definite little signs of interest. Reading about a potential employer’s vacation and benefits package should not suddenly make her nipples harden or create a strange flip of desire. She’d go running. A good run would exhaust her body and drive out the chemicals that were poisoning her mind. She put on her favorite running shorts, a lime-green jogging bra and a floppy shirt. Usually she’d stretch just outside her apartment, but with about twenty guys in hard hats at work there, she’d jog a couple of blocks before taking a stretching break. She paused at the light and looked for her favorite, dark-haired Mr. Tool Belt. There he stood, near the bulldozer or front-end loader, his muscular arms folded. For some reason, he struck her as a little sleazy today. Maybe the muscles and body were too pumped for her taste? His construction worker’s tan was too perfect, as if it had come from a salon. That struck her as funny and she grinned at the thought. Tool Belt looked over at her at that moment and smiled back. Whoa, nice, she thought, and flipped back her hair to gather it up and out of the way for her run. As she snapped the elastic over the ponytail, she felt sudden awareness. Some of the guys had been idly watching her, just as she’d been eyeing them. But now it felt as if one of them stood behind her or just next to her, and breathed down her neck. Staring. The sensation was so strong, she twisted, looking over her shoulder to see if she was alone. Yup, but her skin flinched and became a mass of goose bumps. She changed

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her mind about going across the street and turned her back on the construction site. Gia didn’t jog. She ran.

***** Will managed to push the last pile into place then deliberately, carefully, switched off the machine. He even took his time to climb down and stroll over to Pettigrew. Too bad he sounded like a hoarse maniac when he shouted over the sound of a jackhammer. “Who was that?” “Huh?” Pettigrew eyed him, took a step backward, stumbling a little over a rock. He taunted from a distance, but up close, he treated Will with caution. “Who was that woman you smiled at a couple of minutes ago? Dark hair? Runner?” Will demanded. “I dunno.” Pettigrew waved a hand at the red-brick apartment block. “Lives in there. I seen her a coupla times. Nice ass, huh.” “You don’t know her name?” Pettigrew shook his head and watched him. “Never said a word to her.” He sounded defensive. “But you… I—” Will managed to shut up before he blurted out the idiocy. I saw you with her. Right here in the pit, naked. Greg wandered over. “You’re not going to start anything again, Will.” Half warning, half pleading. “No, no. Course not.” Will took off the hat and pushed back his hair. “Just taking a quick break.” He looked at Pettigrew who’d tucked his hands into the belt, and Will said the first thing he could think of that wasn’t about the dark-haired woman. “How’s Cammi?” Pettigrew leered. “One of the hottest—” “Forget I asked,” Will interrupted. He’d spoken to be polite, prove to Greg he’d gotten past the Cammi thing. But he wasn’t ready for Pettigrew’s bullshit. Probably never would be. He climbed back up into the cab of the backhoe and told himself he’d probably just seen the woman who lived in the apartment around, standing on the sidewalk maybe. And then no doubt he’d forgotten her but somehow inserted her into a too-vivid daydream. Forty minutes later during break, he sat on the curb eating a bag of pretzels, listening to Greg complain about his truck’s transmission, hinting that Will might want to take a look at it. “I’ll pay ya, of course,” Greg said, even though they both knew he wouldn’t. “No. I don’t have time and I’m done working on cars that aren’t mine.” Will popped another pretzel in his mouth. It was a ritual and pretty soon he’d give in—Greg would wheedle him into “just taking a quick look”. 14

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Midcrunch he saw her, this time in the flesh again. The woman walked quickly. Post-run, her hair and shirt were plastered to her body with perspiration. She did not glance at the pit and even seemed to speed up to get past them. Her expression was serious, drawn, no trace of the smile she’d had flashed earlier. Maybe Pettigrew had made some sort of obscene gesture. Will could only hope she’d call the city and complain. He handed the rest of the pretzels to Greg who’d just started in on him about the transmission. Will stood and jogged across the street toward the woman. “Miss? Excuse me?” He knew Greg watched and would can him if he knew he was harassing a citizen, but that was fine with Will. The woman turned quickly, whirled around as if she were about to face an enemy, and their eyes met. For a long few seconds they only stared. Her brown eyes grew wider. “What do you want?” she whispered. Will sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified by the fact that she looked as confused as he felt. The weird shit wasn’t just happening to him after all. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t get it.” Her large, shadowed eyes closed for a long minute. She opened them and looked down. At his hands, not his crotch. Or maybe both. Self-conscious, he folded his arms over his chest. “Shit,” she said. “So, um. You aren’t…you don’t…you…” She snorted. “What’s your name?” He held out his hand. “Will Taylor.” She didn’t shake it, only stared down at it. “I don’t know your name. I don’t know you. But I know your arm. Your hand.” When she looked up he was horrified to see tears in her eyes. “What have you done to me?” she whispered. “Nothing. I could ask you the same damn thing,” he said. For a long moment they stood, both with arms crossed, glaring. “Will?” Greg had snuck up behind him. “Hey. Some kind of problem, miss?” Her mouth opened. Very slowly she turned a dark red. Embarrassment. Aha, Will understood at once. Whatever was going on with her had some sort of sexual overtones too. He took pity on her and immediately began to talk. “Greg. Remember that thing I described last night? In the bar? Like hallucinations?” She gasped. “That’s it, isn’t it, miss? Something, like, really strange. Um. With ah, physical effects?” She nodded and for the first time her tight mouth relaxed and he saw her lips were lush and pink and—oh, no goddamn way.

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He turned and concentrated on his brother-in-law who had a smear of mustard on his upper lip. That worked for him. “Greg, you gotta contact the city. You have to find out what the hell is in the ground here. There’s some sort of chemical or something.” “Do you think that’s it?” The woman sounded eager and grateful. “That it’s, right? I don’t know what…some sort of gas leak?” “Sure, sure. I’ll call, ma’am. I promise. Will, calm down. But I think it’s just a coincidence. Just you two got symptoms and you both look pretty healthy to me.” Greg had turned hearty with relief, Will guessed. The crew wasn’t misbehaving and Greg wasn’t going to get calls from the city, so he could be jovial. “You gonna get back to work, Will?” He turned his big smile on the woman. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.” She was still watching Will too intently. “But it’s so strange. Why you? I can swear it’s you.” “Yeah, I could swear it’s you doing something weird to me.” She fiddled with the end of her ponytail of long thick hair and glanced away from him. The woman had a distinctly guilty air. He’d been the one to approach her, but now he wanted to get away. Somehow she was the source of his worst nightmare—losing control of his brain and emotions. “Mr. Taylor, would you mind?” The woman cleared her throat. “Would it be okay if we talked after you’re done here for the day? I’m apartment 2H.” Okay, something like crazy-ass witchy seductive was going on and here she was inviting up to her apartment. “No, ma’am. I’m pretty certain that’s a bad idea.” She let go of her ponytail, and frowned, cocking her head to the side to examine him. Her hair brushed her bare, tanned shoulder. “I’m not sure I understand why you sound so hostile.” “Yeah? The way you’re shuffling your feet. Strikes me that you’re not entirely innocent.” “Yes I am. This thing. It’s just not what I’m used to.” She managed to make eye contact and she glared, furious. “I don’t think what’s happening is particularly funny, okay.” It hit him at last—she really was embarrassed. This woman, despite the running shorts and graceful air of someone comfortable with her body, was straitlaced. And she probably had strange sex stuff going on in her body and brain too. He put his hands up and took a step back. “I’m not doing anything. I have no idea what’s happening here but I figured you might.” “You think I have some sort of control? I don’t know what’s going on either.” “No. Not anymore. I meant no I don’t think you’re doing anything on purpose.” If she was, this woman should win some sort of acting award. “It’s just that. Um…” It’s just that I want to have sex with you in the worst way and I don’t trust myself around you. He wasn’t sure if that was true and he had no control over himself, but it seemed much closer to the truth than what he really said, which was, “I bet it doesn’t matter

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anyway. Chances are the problem has gone away, miss. I mean I feel better already. Maybe it was related to some of the work we’ve finished up. We’ve replaced the old traffic control system and maybe it was just some sort of electrical discharge or, um…” He let his voice trail off before he sounded like an even greater idiot. “Anyway. I think it’s over now and there’s no need to worry.” She gave a small, twisted smile. “Okay. I hope you’re right. And I probably shouldn’t invite strange men into my house.” She reddened again and he felt the flutter of interest in his gut. No. Way. He squeezed his hand tight, digging the blunt nails into his palm. “Okay, miss. I’ll see you around. Sorry to bother you. We’ll be fine, I’m sure. I’ll get them to call and find out what they can. Thanks,” he babbled. And trotted back to his machine. He wondered why he’d put her off once he believed she wasn’t behind the weirdness. He should have felt better knowing that the strange episodes were something other than personal insanity. Someone else felt it too. Had to be the environment. If his brain was melting, at least he’d have some company in the hospital. And nice company too. No. Goddamn. Way. He was not going to think about sex. Or her long lean body. He’d always thought he liked small round women, like Cammi, but this woman’s body. He’d love to see her moving. Running, swaying, dancing, making love. “Shut up,” he said aloud. In front of the backhoe, pot-bellied Greerson leaned over the old pipe and his jeans slid enough to show butt crack. That did the trick. Any time Will had the smallest sexual impulse, he glanced over at Greerson and imagined him running or swaying instead of the dark-haired woman. For the first time since adolescence, Will managed to banish sex from his mind for several straight hours. Next stop, priesthood. The backhoe arm developed a hydraulic problem. Will couldn’t fix it or even diagnose it properly without the right tools. Rather than wait around doing nothing, he climbed down to join the guys who were regrading the finished section. Better to keep busy and use his body—standing around meant risking daydreams. He walked along behind the truck and pushed the gravel into place with the shovel. Mindless hard work. They were nearly ready to pack it in for the day when a woman passed the work site, walking slowly. She had a lithe body and muscled legs of a runner. For a moment he thought it was her, the one who lived in the apartment building. But no, this woman had shorter hair. She looked younger and she had a springier walk. The way her hips swung, Will suspected she knew a bunch of guys watched her and she had no problem with that. He shoved his shovel onto the truck and absently thought about the woman who’d shown up in his mind. She had good hips too. He could almost picture her breasts from the day before when he’d had that strange vision. Tan skin, dark areoles that puckered.

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So real he could almost feel the tightening nipples on his tongue. His body tingled with the imagined taste and sight. Shut up, he told himself. Go the hell to sleep, he told his stirring erection. He looked away from the other runner who tossed back her hair and rounded the corner. “Nice butt.” Pettigrew stood behind him gawking. “Not as nice as Cammi’s. Or your new girlfriend’s.” Okay, maybe he wanted Will to take a swing at him. That had to be why he pushed so damned hard. The last day of the last time they’d worked on a job together, Will had had it out with Pettigrew and won, but he was only the victor in the fight. Cammi had come to the site to meet Will for a date, and instead she’d taken Pettigrew home to nurse his injuries. Greg was right and he’d promised no more goddamn brawls with assholes. Will wasn’t his father and he could control himself. Will counted to ten a couple more times. Then, without looking at Pettigrew, he headed back to the machine to grab his flannel shirt from the back of the seat. Where was Greg? Time to get the hell out of Dodge. The shoveling hadn’t done the job of wrestling back control for him, so maybe after work, he’d take a cue from the woman who haunted him and he’d go for a run. Exhaustion as a cure-all, driving out anger and hallucinations. Keeping the boogeyman of insanity at bay. He’d just been thinking about her, so he wasn’t sure if she was the real thing when he spotted the woman standing on the sidewalk, waiting. She watched him, and the intensity of her gaze, the uncanny familiarity of her face and body made him pause for a second, but this time he wouldn’t walk away. Heart going too fast, he strode toward her.

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Chapter Two The dark-haired woman waved to catch Will’s attention, as if he could have missed her. When he stopped in front of her, she blurted out, “I know you said no to talking, but I wonder if I can change your mind? It’s just that a few minutes ago…” She bit her lip as if trying to bite back the words she’d just said. “Is it okay? We can go somewhere else if you don’t want to come up to my apartment.” “You started to say something about a few minutes ago. You had another episode?” he asked. Nausea gripped him. A few minutes ago he’d been aroused by the sight of the woman he’d thought was her. Her frown deepened and she nodded. “Not as strong. But still, can we talk?” She was as scared as he was, or at least as baffled. She wasn’t really the cause, he told himself, but a fellow sufferer. Anyway, running away wasn’t going to work. Will turned to Greg who watched from a few feet away, jingling his truck keys. “I’ll get home on my own,” he told his extremely interested brother-in-law. “I’ll grab a cab or something.” Greg waved to the woman and called out. “Hey, listen, no need to look so worried. I can vouch for Will here. He’s a good guy.” She sighed and rubbed her upper arms where goose bumps covered her olive skin. “Even if you aren’t okay, you can’t be any worse than going nuts,” she said quietly so only Will could hear. Amen, Will thought. She was right. “Ten minutes,” he said. “I’ll ring your bell. I remember the number.” He watched her go into the building, unsure why he’d put off the talk. Because he wanted to marshal his theories before he visited the dark-haired woman whose name he didn’t know. When he rang the bell on 2H “G Harmon”, she trotted down the stairs to open the door almost at once. “Opening buzzer’s broken,” she said. “Come on up.” Following her up the stairs, he tried not to stare but realized he had to agree with Pettigrew about one thing—the idiot was right about her rear end. Damn. Her cheeks were round and perfect as the skirt molded their shape. He could imagine how she felt under his hands. The black skirt was tight and her long legs were bare. Her step faltered and she looked over her shoulder at him, eyes wide. “So you’re G Harmon,” he said, desperate for a topic of conversation that wasn’t about going nuts or sex. “Gia.” She opened the door to her apartment.

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To stop staring at Gia or thinking about her, Will concentrated on the apartment. The room was filled with late afternoon sun. Far nicer interior than the dull red brick exterior advertized. He thumped his hat against his leg and looked around. Nice molding. Great proportions to the large living area-kitchen, and the counter separating them was in exactly the right spot. A short corridor went off to the left and he saw a couple of doors. She walked into the kitchen and picked up a glass jar of coffee beans. “Want some?” He didn’t. He wanted to figure this out and leave but he found himself saying, “Sure. Thanks.” “Take a seat.” He sat on the floor. Her laughter was deep and throaty and gorgeous. “You can sit on a chair.” “I’m filthy.” He held up his hands to show the grime under his nails. “Floor’s fine.” “Want to wash up?” she asked. He let her point him to the bathroom, but his hands didn’t look much better when he was done scrubbing at them. She finished grinding the coffee beans as he returned to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” “No.” Will didn’t mean to sound rude, but enough with the hostess thing. He wanted her to start talking. He couldn’t because if he described his problem, to see if it was anything like hers… Well. Huh. If he was wrong, she might call the police. Then again, maybe she did the hostess thing to calm herself down. He leaned his back against her fridge, inhaled the scent of fresh-ground coffee and forced himself to calm down and wait patiently. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to go tonight. He thought of a couple of neutral questions. “So when did your problem start?” She poured water into the coffeemaker. “Yesterday. Sort of off and on. I guess the worst was at about ten o’clock last night. For you?” “Yesterday I had something like a, um, a seizure at work.” “You mean out there.” She nodded in the direction of the pit. “Yeah. That was about four yesterday afternoon maybe? Much earlier than you. So whatever it is, the problem’s not happening to us at the same time.” He sighed. So much for that theory. “Why’d you think you knew me?” She reached up into a cupboard for cups. The way her back curved and her breasts lifted… No. He had to stop those thoughts. He cut his gaze from her to the white-andgreen floor tile. “I didn’t know you.” She spoke hesitantly and he wondered why she seemed embarrassed. Of course they didn’t know each other. Yet he knew he’d seen her face, imagined it, when the desire hit. And the memory created another wave of confused desire.

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The dream woman in the flesh walked toward him. No, to the fridge. “’Scuse me.” He scooted away. While she rummaged around in the fridge, he couldn’t see her and it was easier to talk. He dove right in. “What happened to me yesterday was something, um, like sex. I don’t mean sex,” he added quickly. “And I’m not trying to come on to you or anything. I mean. I’m talking about what I went through.” Damn, that wasn’t particularly articulate. But maybe it was enough, because she closed the door to the fridge. Empty-handed. She slid down onto the floor near him. “Go on,” she said. “What do you mean?” “That’s all of it.” Now that she was close to him, sitting on the floor, he felt less ready to talk. “The weird sensation was related to sex.” Arms around her bent legs, she pressed her forehead to her knees. “Yeah,” she said at last. “Yeah, mine too.” The coffee gurgled. Neither of them spoke for a full minute. “Out of nowhere?” she said softly. “Yeah. Absolutely. Boom.” “Me too.” He wanted to ask again, why did you know me out front, but then it occurred to him, she hadn’t seemed to recognize his face. Why not? He knew hers. But she startled him with a groan. “You okay?” he asked. “I just remembered. Four o’clock, yesterday,” she whispered. “I was in the shower.” He waited but she didn’t say anything more. She only sat, hunched over. He suddenly understood. “That mean you were doing more than just getting clean?” “Kind of. I mean, I was in the shower but um, yeah, it’s a euphemism.” Her blush and stumbling speech confirmed what she’d been doing but he was too interested in the fact to be embarrassed. “Me too. At ten, I mean,” he said. She straightened up and looked at him, her eyes wide. “How horrible. I mean how amazingly horrible.” He scratched his head. “So let me get this straight. Okay? Just to say it out loud.” “Do we have to?” He ignored her. “At four o’clock yesterday, you took a shower and um, messed around until you reached orgasm. Holy shit,” he suddenly said. “Were you alone?” He tried to remember if Pettigrew had vanished from the work site. She muttered something. “What?” “I said, yes. I was alone.” “Alone.” He tried to see her face but she’d turned away. “Can I ask you something really personal?” he asked.

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“Can anything get more personal than this?” “Yeah. But don’t toss me out, because I’m not trying to give you shit or pry more than I have to, okay? There’s something real and weird and—” “And I know. Really weird.” She glanced at him. “Go on, ask it. I promise I’m not going to ask you to leave.” “When you were, ah, taking a shower, did you think about a guy named Pettigrew?” “Who?” “He one of the guys working out there.” He jerked a thumb at the street corner. “About as tall as me, dark hair, muscle-bound, couple of tats. Stands around the work site a lot.” She groaned and looked down at her hands clutching each other below her knees. Her knuckles were white. “I’ll take that as a yes. By the way, he’s an asshole, so don’t take it to the next level, okay?” “How can you joke about this? Oh God. This is just too much. Wait a sec. You—” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees again. “At ten p.m. Your shower. You didn’t think about much. Did you? No wait, there was someone with red hair and big breasts.” “Jesus.” He rocketed to his feet. She stood too. “Feels more real when it’s your own thoughts invaded, doesn’t it.” “It couldn’t feel less real.” Gia brushed past him—the air as they nearly touched hummed with attraction— and went to the coffee pot. With unsteady hands, she poured out two cups. “I decided you were right earlier. I’d just act like everything was normal and it would go away.” He took the coffee from her and breathed in the scent. “Normal,” he murmured. “Right. Normal. Like this is coffee. It’s hot. It’s good.” “Want cream?” He shook his head. “This isn’t turning into anything. It’s just coffee. The only weird shit is the stuff that seems connected to you.” “And it seems connected to um, desire.” She glanced at his hands for a second and he knew she was remembering them. She’d wanted him. The thought of her reaching climax while thinking of him was far too electrifying and he took another deep breath. Something between them changed and twisted at that moment. The connection went even deeper. Like a fish struggling to get off the hook, he’d sunk the damn thing in even deeper. She opened the fridge again, took out half and half, poured some into her cup. She moved slowly but he could see her hands trembled even more. He wished he could take

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her slender fingers and squeeze them reassuringly, but bad idea probably. He didn’t think they should touch. She put away the cream, and still moving deliberately, picked up her cup. “Okay, I remember another incident. This morning, I woke up really early. That’s strange enough because since I lost my job I tend to sleep in. And when I woke up, it was like I wasn’t alone,” she began. Her hand went to the base of her throat where she played with a small green stone on a gold chain. He tried not to stare. “Yeah. Sounds familiar. Go on,” he said. “But it wasn’t anything but touch. No visions or anything.” He cleared his throat. “Well. Actually. I sort of pictured you.” “Me? But you hadn’t seen me. Maybe you did out there?” Her dark brows knit and when she looked at him, he saw fear again. “Hell. Maybe. I don’t know. I can’t tell what’s real and what’s just crazy. All I know is I don’t control it. Okay? I’m not some kind of psychic stalker.” She squinted into her cup. Looking down, around—anywhere but at him. He wished she would look up. He liked her liquid eyes and hell, she was the only person who knew what he was going through. “About this morning, here’s what I think,” she said, slowly, thoughtfully. Good, she wasn’t afraid of him. “As soon as you realized what was going on, that it was the weird hallucination thing, you woke all the way up and stopped. You lost any interest in sex.” She gave a tiny smile or perhaps a smirk—a first for her. “Even though you were pretty aroused.” He sat back down on the floor and sipped the strong black coffee. She bought the good quality stuff. “Sure. Nothing like thinking you’re losing your mind to stop that loving feeling,” he said. “And I guess same thing happened to you about the same time.” “I guess,” she agreed. “And then about a half hour ago.” “That time didn’t go very far,” she finished. “I don’t know how it started though.” He took a swallow of coffee and didn’t volunteer any information about the woman who’d looked like her. Will looked up into her face, trying to see if he saw anything supernatural. Only an attractive woman with rippling dark hair. Good even from this angle. Not even his type, or at least not what he’d thought of as the sort of woman he liked. Though her legs. The strong curve of her calf. He forced himself not to look at her leg though she stood only a few feet away and her skin was bare. Because God only knew what would happen if he admitted his attraction to her or acted on it. “Why us?” he said. His voice was husky. “Heck, if we knew that we’d have an answer to the whole thing.” She sank onto the floor near him again, carefully holding her coffee out in front of herself. She placed the cup on the floor and swiveled to face him. “Put out your hand.” 23

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He raised his bare arm, tanned and dusty from work. She examined his wrist and palm a moment then very slowly ran her fingertips over his forearm, barely grazing his skin. He wanted to grab her hand, pull her close. She pulled away her hand and looked up. “That was just a touch. Right? I mean. It didn’t set off anything?” He swallowed. “Nothing more than usual.” “Usual?” “You’re pretty. It’s been a while.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to jump you, but yeah, I felt something.” The goddamn hook jamming harder. He wouldn’t writhe on the line and make it worse. She closed her eyes. “Me too. But more intense maybe?” Her lips formed a smile. She had a small dimple just off the side of her full mouth. “Hard to say. I haven’t touched a man for a while.” Holy shit, her small touch and careless words about touching a man, even the sight of that dimple, woke up all sorts of interested parts of his body. He pressed the small of his back against the fridge again. “I’m not so sure we should be experimenting with this. I mean, without professional help.” She picked up her cup and drank. “Probably you’re right. What kind of expert do you suppose we should consult?” “Shrink? Psychic? Exorcist?” “All of them,” she said. “I guess it could be worse. I mean. You seem like a pretty normal guy.” “Usually I might find that insulting but today normal is my favorite word.” “I mean you’re not a sex fiend, right?” “Maybe I am,” he breathed without thinking. She chewed her lip and stared back. But she didn’t seem afraid. He forced himself to glance back at the badly laid green tile to break the tightening tension. “So. Anything else?” he said. “I mean do we share other sensations? Have you fallen down or gotten drunk or done anything painful to yourself in the last day?” She smoothed her skirt over her thigh as she thought. He wished she’d stop touching herself. After a minute, she said, “Well, I did jam my finger on my bathroom door.” “I didn’t feel that.” “So it’s just the sex.” She fiddled with the edge of her skirt, running a thumb over the cloth. “I thought of another experiment. One where we don’t touch each other but it’ll confirm this strange stuff.” “What do you mean?” “Well. Um.” She reddened again. “I’ll stay out here. And you could take a shower.”

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He understood at once. Hell no, he wasn’t about to jack off in a stranger’s bathroom. “Here? This is your house. You take the shower.” She suddenly began to snicker. “Okay, now I’m finally seeing the humor of the situation.” “Yeah?” “I mean I’ve never met you. I’m not really that into, you know. Sex and stuff. But for some reason we have shared some intimate moments.” “Not on purpose. I promise you.” “Yeah.” She nodded, still grinning. “But it’s just funny. You know? What a completely strange and silly thing.” He liked her laugh and smiled. “I guess you’re right. Yeah. Before we call some doctor, we ought to make sure it’s still happening.” “God, I hope they can do something.” She giggled. “I can just see me at a job interview, talking about my previous work experience and then, suddenly, I’m all breathless and uhhhh.” Her imitation of a woman surprised on the peak of excitement was arousing and funny at the same time. “Yeah, well try operating heavy machinery under the influence,” he said. That did it. The two of them began to laugh. They were soon snorting and wheezing and stretched out on her kitchen floor. They laughed until they ran out of air and then began again. “Knobs,” she managed to gasp as she pushed herself up again. “I just remembered something. Last night I dreamed of sitting out in that workplace of yours and I was touching knobs. Red and green.” She rested her hand on her flat belly. “Phew.” He palmed the tears of laughter from his eyes and sniffed. “Hey, I think you dreamed of operating a backhoe.” “Well, so it is more than sex after all between us.” “Maybe. But that was what I was seeing at four p.m. yesterday when you were in your shower.” “Maybe.” She gave another final snort of laughter. Silence fell on them again, but less tense or frightened. “Okay.” He jumped up—fast, because he desperately needed to touch her. “I’m going to go into your bathroom. I won’t take a shower though God knows I need one.” “You might as well. I have some sweats and a tee shirt that would fit you,” she said. “Your boyfriend’s?” Why hadn’t it occurred to him that she had a boyfriend? She’d said that thing about not touching a guy for a while. She walked into the hall. “Ex-boyfriend. He was a little shorter and thinner than you but I think they’ll fit.”

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He followed her, curious about her bedroom—just the room, not the bed, he told himself—but she disappointed him by taking the clothes from a small closet in the hall. She handed him the clothes and a tattered but clean towel. He looked down at the worn tee shirt and sweat pants. “Why’d you keep his stuff?” She touched the neatly folded sweats. “I’ve missed him.” The pain in her words was obvious and he wished he hadn’t asked. “Well, okay. I might as well take a shower. Thanks. Maybe I’ll just get clean and nothing else.” “That’s fine,” she said. “But I won’t say what I’m doing. You’ll have to figure it out.” She grinned. “If it’s like the shower you took last night at ten, I will notice.” He clutched the clean clothes and towel. The tight, hot sensation was a sort of aroused embarrassment, as if she’d looked at him naked. He approved of the bathroom. Simple black-and-white tile, good plumbing fixtures. Must be a condo and not a rental unit. She was out of a job—could she afford this nice place? The nail polish colors on the shelf over the sink provided the only splashes of color. He could imagine the bright red on the tips on her slender fingers. He stripped off his clothes quickly, dropping them in a pile. The scent of something light and flowery hit him as he stepped under the hot water. Yeah, he was going to smell real sweet, he thought to distract himself from any kind of provocative thoughts. He’d be damned if he’d come in this woman’s shower. Strange enough he stood in this bathroom, naked, and about to take the shower. As soon as he stepped into the shower, he began to scrub at his skin, hard, and then dumped a slug of shampoo on his palm. Something green. More flowers, subtle and sensual. So he moved faster, scrubbing hard. And turning the water colder. The water sprayed hard on his face, making him gasp. As he turned, the sensation hit him. Rising temperature within his body. Weak-kneed and groaning, he froze. And he was fighting off pleasure churning through his body, twisting to his fingertips and toes. “What the hell are you doing?” he roared. Gia had imagined him naked in her bathroom, letting the water run over him. She saw the man’s body from last night. That had to be him. Muscles and planes and need, oh my. Her insides twisted tight and she drew the flat of her hand over her hardening nipple. And slid her fingers of her other hand under the elastic waistband of her skirt, to touch herself through the plain cotton panties. A tiny circle against the dry cloth. Another circle and the cloth wasn’t as dry. An experiment, she told herself, and closed her eyes. Uptight Gia was playing around with some interesting new stuff and she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop. And then he shouted. 26

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She couldn’t hear what he said but it sounded urgent. She guiltily yanked her hands from her body. After a moment’s hesitation, she went down the hall and opened the door to the bathroom and stood, her hair rumpled and her mouth slightly open. “You okay?” “What were you doing out there? I know it was something.” He sounded angry. No point in denying it. “I didn’t do very much. Maybe when we’re not far away from each other it doesn’t take a lot.” She blinked in the steam. “Oh. You’re not wearing anything.” Nothing but a massive hard-on. He turned off the shower and they stood in silence interrupted only the drip of water from the shower curtain and his body. “Touch yourself,” she whispered. Gia, who’d only ever made love to two men and always in the dark, who didn’t particularly crave adventure, Plain Vanilla Gia was demanding that a stranger masturbate in front of her. Interesting, part of her brain thought. The rest of her screamed need. She wanted to touch him. Her fingers tightened into fists. He grabbed a towel and held it in front of himself. She wished he wouldn’t. He scowled and looked away. “No. We’ve proved there’s something going on and that’s all we needed to do.” “It won’t kill you or me.” She took a couple of steps closer. The bathroom was small so she was close enough to smell his skin, heated by the shower, see his chest rise and fall. Her eyes shifted up to meet his gaze. “Touch yourself or I’ll touch you.” He groaned and didn’t point out that her threat was stupid, that he outweighed her by about fifty pounds and no way she could force him to do anything. Instead he asked, “Why?” “Why not?” She drew two fingers over her mouth, wondering how her lips would feel under his. Yeah, she wanted to kiss him, a lot. “I have never felt so free. We’ve assumed this is bad because we don’t understand it. But I think I like it. I want more. I need it.” He looked away from her, stared at the toilet. “We don’t know each other.” “True.” “I don’t fuck people I don’t know.” He clearly wanted to offend her, drive her off. But it didn’t work. “Neither do I. So we don’t fuck.” He moved the towel and she hoped it meant something. No. He was only using it wipe the water from his skin and hair. He turned his back so she didn’t see the huge hard-on. His butt was pretty damned good though. “I want you, sure.” He sounded as if he hated to admit it. “But I don’t see why you’re pushing this.”

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She walked over to the toilet, closed the lid and sat. “I have had a couple of relationships in my life that involved sex. Two men I’ve slept with.” Gia was distracted by Will’s muscular back as he toweled off, his broad shoulders with a lighter tan than his arms, the indented line of his spine that ended in the pale firm flesh of his butt. She hadn’t seen him from the rear in the visions but she remembered those arms. Distracted, yes, but the sight of his body gave her courage to go on. “Anyway, I’ve been with men and I didn’t see what the big deal was about. I mean, I cared about my boyfriends a lot, so I liked sex okay. But what I, erm, do on my own…” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “When you take a shower.” She nodded. “Yeah. When I do that, it feels better, it’s more, um, ecstatic, which is really pathetic, I guess. But you. Just looking at you gives me more…I don’t know…a bigger thrill than touching anyone else. Shakes me up more than I can do on my own too.” She lifted her hand and chewed on the edge of her thumb. “Must be some kind of biological thing.” He shook his head like a dog then stepped out of the tub. Oh, very nice. He gave up trying to cover that lovely erection. She sighed. The memory of his body would have to be good enough. She crossed her legs and ordered her body to stop swelling and clenching. It ignored her. “I really, really want you, but I’m not thinking straight. You’re right. I better stop.” The water dripped. They watched each other. “Am I right?” he asked huskily. “Damn.” She swallowed. Apparently she’d won the argument and hadn’t even noticed. “Insanity,” she repeated, because her brain couldn’t hold actual thought. “How about shared madness. Spread the blame.” The corner of his mouth crooked. “So you think we should just stand near each other and not touch.” She rose and stood in front him. Not too close. “No, I’ve changed my mind.” He sucked in a breath and moved away. “Oh.” She followed him. “I think we should touch.” Gia let her hands fall to her sides. “You first.” He watched her face as he lifted his hand and his forefinger traced the edge of her pink knit cotton shirt. Then he touched the line of her lips. Such light touches. She waited to explode or lapse into even more mindless desire. Only the sweet, light grazing of skin on skin. Perhaps she felt more aware of her own body and the tiny scrape of his calloused forefinger. But certainly nothing more magic than she’d already experienced. Good, because that was freaky enough. He used two fingers now. Gliding down her cheek, her jaw, her throat. Pausing at the hollow of her throat, pressing, and she understood he checked her pulse. His own breath came faster. When he moved toward her, closing the inches, she felt his heat and then the shape of his cock against the lower part of her belly, and then his whole naked front pressed to her clothed body. Need grew with every beat of her heart.

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His fingers cradled her cheeks now. His hands nearly enveloped her face. She hadn’t noticed that he was so large, but she only came up to his nose and she was not a shrimp. She rubbed her face on his hot, damp shoulder and let herself taste him with a tentative lick. The delicate exploration ended the instant her tongue lapped his collarbone. He groaned, bent his legs and tilted her face up. The first contact with their lips remained hesitant only for a second, then the storm began. From a gentle brush of lips to openmouthed needy kisses so fast. Nothing in her life could have prepared her for the onslaught of this desire. Urgent need washed through her, filled her, left her mewling and helpless. So few touches, but she knew already they had to take this all the way. She wouldn’t survive without him inside her. “Medicine cabinet,” she whispered. Thank God she hadn’t purged her life of anything that reminded her of Mike. He’d left several condoms behind.

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Chapter Three She couldn’t move but the naked man in her bathroom could. He knew where to touch her and kiss her. His mouth was on her breast, sucking and then licking then lightly blowing on the already too-sensitive skin so the impossibly tight nipple squeezed tighter. He leaned over to lick her belly, nip her hipbone. And then her back arched up and she yowled as he dropped to his knees and licked her pussy slowly. They sank to the floor. His warm tongue on her clit. Faster. Oh, and just when she knew she would go over the edge, he was on top of her. He had managed to get a condom on. Now he could push deep into her. So far inside her. The rubber might not have been there. The sensitivity created other strange experiences. She could feel how hot and slippery against herself…but no, that wasn’t her grasping herself so firmly. Her head rolled side to side because she had to move or explode. If she’d only move her leg, that would make him go deeper, balls deep. And then she was in her own self again, feeling that exquisite pressure just where she needed it. Her balls tightened. No, wait, she didn’t have balls. “Oh god,” she groaned as the tension curled to breaking point and then too far. She exploded. The orgasm that ripped through her was twice as powerful as any that had ever rocked her body. And the intense waves of pleasure from her belly to her hands and legs and heart were the last she felt before the world went gray then black. The phone ringing brought her back. Her hands and feet tingled. No wonder. A naked man lay on top of her with his considerable full weight. What was his name again? She couldn’t recall. On the other hand, she had to search for her own name. All blood in her brain had been diverted to handle that blowup of an orgasm. The phone stopped ringing. He lay on her but wasn’t inside her body anymore. Uh-oh. What happened to the condom? She reached down between them and discovered it was still on his cock, which was mostly hard. Wow. That couldn’t be comfortable for long. She squirmed under him, hoping to push him into better position. “Um?” she said. She rubbed her nose on his shoulder. The heavy solid body across her didn’t move or answer, but thank goodness for his deep steady breath. She pushed at his chest. He groaned. “Huh?” “Yeah.” His eyes opened, and from a few inches away he stared down at her, a look of puzzlement soon replaced by wild horror. “That was…”

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“Wonderful.” Wide awake now, he slid off her and rolled away on the floor, grabbing at the towel. “It was terrifying.” “Yeah, I guess.” She stretched and yawned. “But also just amazing.” He stood and touched his head gingerly. The layers looked charmingly ruffled. “Jesus. My hair is almost dry.” “Oh.” She knew what that meant—a lot more time had passed than a minute or two. She guessed they had to have passed out for at least a half hour. No wonder her hands and feet had grown cold and tingling as she lay under him. She shivered and wished he’d lie back down and warm her again. But he’d already gone off in search of the trash, she supposed—and the sweats and tee shirt that had once belonged to Mike. She sighed and reached for her clothes. Post-coital cuddling under these circumstances was probably asking too much. She remembered his name. “Will?” He appeared in the door, looking hot in the tattered old sweats and tee. Leaning against the doorway, arms folded, he was sex on wheels. He’d always look that way to her now. No matter what happened, the sight of him, even with a scowl on his face, would remind her of the most astounding sex ever. “Um. I’ve forgotten your name,” he said. Oh, maybe his frown expressed embarrassment, not anger. “Gia. I forgot yours for a while too. I think some brain cells got fried.” She grinned and rubbed her chilled fingers over her skirt. He gazed at her hands, then into her eyes and the glimmer of tension caught between them again. Will quickly pushed away from the doorframe. “Hell no,” he breathed. “Never again.” “You don’t like losing control,” she guessed. “You do?” “I wouldn’t think so, but I did like that.” He licked his lips. That tongue. Yeah, she liked the strong heated touch of his tongue and wanted just another kiss or two. “No,” he repeated in a harsher voice. “Okay, okay.” She straightened her clothes. “That certainly settled the matter. It’s not normal. Absolutely not normal. So we should probably find out what’s going on, huh?” He nodded with obvious relief. “We should go to the ER.” “It isn’t an emergency.” She moved toward him. And he backed away, staring into her eyes. “Someone there should be able to help.” “I’m not going to jump you,” she said, annoyed.

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He stopped moving. “I might jump you though.” One side of his mouth crooked with the hint of a smile. Oh my. She squelched the ripple of lust his words created, knowing he wouldn’t welcome any sort of response. She pointed at the counter behind him. “My keys. But do you want to drive to the emergency room in your car?” He scowled. “I don’t have one here. My brother-in-law was supposed to give me a ride. You could give me a ride to my apartment. I could pick up my car.” “That’s okay. We’ll go together.” She wanted to go in one car because she knew he wanted to run away. She wanted to run too, but straight back into that delirious joy. His scowl grew darker and he grabbed his dusty clothes and hard hat. Neither of them spoke as they walked down the stairs to the parking lot to her Honda. He tossed the clothes into the back seat. “Wish I was dressed in more than sweatpants and a tee shirt,” he said as he drew the seat belt over himself. “Pretend you’re going to exercise.” “Yeah, I wouldn’t work out in work boots—not to mention commando in sweats,” he grumbled. Oh my, that meant she could just slide her hand under that elastic band and find him. She glanced over at his lap. “No,” he said even as the outline of his cock under the worn fabric shifted and grew. She sighed and concentrated on the road. “So you said you’ve had two boyfriends?” he said after a while. “Why’d you break up?” “The last one was because of lack of sex.” That’s one of the explanations Mike Carter, LOHL—love of her life—gave as he’d walked away. He’d said the other reasons were complicated. Will slouched in his seat and said, “Yeah, you wouldn’t like that.” She wondered what he meant and then was too amused to be insulted. “No, I mean part of the reason he left me was because I didn’t have enough of a sex drive.” “You?” “Hey, listen. Stop implying I’m some kind of sex-starved monster.” She had to smile at the thought. “I’m not. Just seems like you have a normal appetite. Listen, we shouldn’t even talk about this subject.” She made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. “Yeah, I was trying to avoid it.” “Impossible. It’s like the elephants.” “What?” She’d taken in a deep breath and could taste his scent. It made her mouth water.

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“It’s like standing next to an elephant and not thinking about it.” He gave a soft laugh and shrugged. “Or something like that. My sister uses that phrase all the time. Try not thinking about the elephants.” She nodded. “Yeah, I get it.” With his warm body so close to hers, thinking about anything else was out of the question. She imagined herself pulling over, sliding over and straddling him with her body and— “Damn,” he whispered. “One of us has to stop.” So she wasn’t the only one. She wondered what he was thinking. Somehow she suspected he thought of her breasts because they prickled and felt swollen. “We can do this. Two more miles,” she said and squeezed the steering wheel so hard her hands hurt. “So, okay. Um. Where are you from? Redcliff? Somewhere else in New York?” He gave a rasping sigh. “Yeah. Lived here all my life. You?” “I grew up in New York City but went to school in Boston.” “Seriously? What’re you doing in a Podunk place like this?” “I like quiet as it turns out. A quiet slow life.” “You get it here, all right.” His fingers drummed his thighs and shifted. “What kind of work do you do?” “I want to do interior design, but I do any kind of work I can get. My last job was with an insurance company.” “Design? Do you mean designing interiors?” She nodded. “Well, that’s what I did in school but my apartment is my first real project. I did a lot of the hands-on work myself too.” “Whoa. Not bad,” he said. “Only things I refuse to touch are lighting and plumbing.” Plumbing brought back showers. Showers meant him, naked and dripping and… She cleared her throat. “How about you?” “Glorified architectural intern because I’m still working on a masters and doing general contracting for a couple of architects. I’m a lot like you, only I don’t mind the plumbing.” “Why’re you working a bulldozer?” “Backhoe. I can tell you were never a little boy,” he said, and in the dark his teeth flashed white. “I can operate that kind of machinery and it’s a favor for Greg. Plus the guys I’m working at the firm with don’t have a lot of jobs just now.” She parked in the garage and they walked side by side to the elevator. As the doors slid shut, she let herself touch his arm. She drew the tips of her fingers from the crook of his elbow to his wrist, enjoying the sweet warmth of him. One last delicious touch. He shuddered but didn’t meet her eye. After they cleared up the problem, he’d have no

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reason to talk to her and in fact, from the way he was behaving, would probably run in the other direction. He seemed mortified by the whole experience. Yet he looked up, gazed somewhere near her shoulder and smiled at her. A reassuring smile, she thought. Not a sexy come-on grin and she felt charmed as well as turned on—a pleasant combination. “No appointment, I guess we go to the ER,” she said, after scanning the signs in the lobby. She trailed after him to the glassed-in reception booth, feeling silly. How would he explain it? But before he could begin, a woman thrust two clipboards at them. Will sat with a single open plastic chair between them as if they were strangers. Were they? She pulled out her old insurance card that might still work and paused to watch him. Her mouth and cheeks still felt swollen from the stubble on the face that now frowned down at the forms. Her breasts still tingled from the touch of the large blunt fingers clutching a pen. He glanced over at her and in the fluorescent lights, his shadowed eyes looked haunted—and gorgeous. For a few seconds their eyes held. He shifted away. She turned her attention back to the paperwork. “I’ve done a lot of this lately,” she muttered. “Applying for jobs. Makes me feel like a list of dull facts.” He snorted and pushed the pen into the slot at the top of the clipboard. “Ready?” He stood and waited for her. So he was acting as if they were in this together. “Almost done. What did you write for ‘reason for today’s visit’?” He flapped the clipboard against his thigh. “Shared sensory illusions. Doesn’t mean anything, but I don’t want to get too specific.” She nodded and wrote the same thing. The ER was quiet and two passing nurses stopped near them as Gia and Will waited to hand over the forms. “No obvious injuries, I’m guessing no fever,” one nurse said to the other speculatively. The other nurse shoved her hands into her teddy-bear-decorated pinafore. “Yeah. And I’ll bet they’re another couple of 12-Ds. You go ahead. I’ll wait and see.” She noticed Gia watching her and smiled. The admin took the forms and cards. After she copied everything and looked them over, she picked up a phone. “Don’t bother, Trish,” the nurse called out. “I got ’em.” The admin slid the files out to her. “Thanks. That’ll save some time.” “Okay, you two,” the nurse said cheerily. “Let’s go.” “12-Ds?” Gia asked as they started down a hall. “What does that mean?” “Just a room number. Twelve D is where all the strange cases end up.” She opened a wide door and ushered them into a big room with floor-to-ceiling curtained-off examination tables. She led them to one of the larger examination areas. Neither of them

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got onto the table but sat on a couple of chairs in opposite corners of the curtained space. The nurse stood, the clipboard shoved onto a hip as she wrote notes. “Okay, so a few more questions.” She gave Gia a half-smile. “Not the standard medical list.” That was for sure. To Gia’s relief the questions weren’t about symptoms but mostly about where had they been any time in the last week. The very last question was strangest of all. The nurse showed them a photocopied town map. She pulled out a pen and drew a circle around a few blocks. “At any time last week while you were moving about in this area, did you see anyone or anything that struck you as odd?” Gia pointed to the middle of the circle. “I live there.” Will sounded belligerent as he asked, “What do you mean odd?” The nurse gave an apologetic tight smile and rolled her eyes as if saying she wasn’t responsible for the nitwit questionnaire. She recited the next part. “We would prefer you to answer the question without giving you any leading hints. But I’m allowed to say we suspect either some chemical or perhaps even a form of hypnosis has been at work. And as you’ve probably figured out, you’re not the only ones affected by this.” “This is more like magic or something,” Gia said, and felt like an idiot. The nurse nodded. “That’s the ‘or something’. Weird stuff, I’m telling you. So about the odd?” Gia sighed. “The only odd stuff I’ve witnessed is in me. Nothing external.” She avoided looking at Will. Did he count as external weirdness? “And you, sir?” “Nothing. But we’re talking something more than hypnosis. I mean there’s a connection with the two of us.” The nurse clicked her pen a couple of times and looked up. “That’s a new one. The doctors will be in to see you. Our 12-D cases have slowed down so you won’t have to wait long.” She drew the curtains shut around them. “I don’t know what’s weirder—that they believe us or they don’t seem particularly surprised or worried,” Gia said after a few moments’ silence. “They haven’t even asked what the hell is going on,” Will stood. He paced the small space. “Or explained anything. Hypnosis. Or some kind of whoopass gas. What a nightmare.” She shrugged and realized she didn’t really care what the cause was. Now that no one was rushing them into operating rooms to save their lives or calling the paranormal press, the whole thing felt anticlimactic. A gloomy ache filled her, a sense of loss. The hushed drone of voices from another part of the room. Someone else with—what had Will called it? A shared illusion. “You look sad,” he said. She hadn’t even noticed him watching her. Gia shrugged and crossed her legs. “It’s just too bad that the one time I really felt awake and alive it was because someone 35

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hypnotized me or something. And the other person involved got dragged along against his will. You hate it. I don’t.”

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Chapter Four For the first time, Will understood that he’d somehow hurt her feelings. He stood and squatted near her chair, thought better of touching her wrist. “Listen. I’m not upset because I hated what happened back at your apartment. On the contrary, I didn’t.” He lowered his voice. “What we did when we got naked felt really amazing. But the losing control thing.” “That’s what I liked,” she muttered. He stood, but didn’t move away. “I made a plan to not sleep with people I don’t know.” “That’s something you have to plan?” She sounded appalled. “I mean I only want to sleep with people I know very well. Does that sound less sleazy?” The shadow of a smile passed over her face. “Slightly.” “Anyway,” he went on, “it’s really hard to resist you. Impossible. And I sure as hell don’t know you.” Her hunched shoulders relaxed, slightly. “Of course. I understand.” She grinned briefly. The woman had a great smile. The rings rattled as someone pushed back the curtains. Will immediately turned away from Gia. Ready to answer all the questions, he’d protect her from embarrassment. After all, he was the one who insisted they come here. Two guys, one young and thin, the other older and fatter, stood framed by the curtains. Their white coats didn’t quite fit and both wore jeans instead of suits or ties. The younger one smiled and pushed his heavy glasses back up his nose. “Two people at once. Fascinating. So far he’s only done one every couple of days.” “He?” Will said. “He or she,” the fatter doctor said. “So you think it’s a person? And not just some random chemical?” Gia asked. “That’s my theory, that whatever is happening occurs in particular areas,” the younger doctor began, but the older one pushed forward and held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Dr. Campbell and this is Dr. Marton. We need to go over your symptoms and other details, and I think it best if we do that individually. Dr. Marton can just take Ms. Harmon to another section. Across the room?” The younger doctor shoved back locks of his too-long, dirty-blond hair, and his eyes gleamed at Gia. “Glad to.” Will glared as Marton led Gia away, grinning like a clown and chattering about the weather. Talk about unprofessional. This was a hospital not a bar. 37

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Campbell’s questions started out easy to answer, what he saw and where he was a few hours before the first peculiar incident. The doctor nodded. “You work outdoors, yes? Good.” Then doctor asked for details of the symptoms. As Will described ghostly orgasms, he felt increasingly peculiar. The whole thing might be starting up again. Damn. And if he felt slightly aroused by this nonsense, not so far away, poor Gia would too. And that bright-eyed Marton would notice the way her face went pink and her lips parted when she was embarrassed. “Are you experiencing what you described now?” Campbell asked blandly. Will concentrated, trying to conjure the memory of Greerson’s rear end as the old man worked in the pit. After a couple of seconds of imagining Greerson’s perpetually sliding jeans and exposed butt-crack, he could truthfully say, “Not at the moment.” But wasn’t the point to get these guys to help? He and Gia would have to expose themselves to this sort of semi-public arousal…and…uh oh. And judging by the strange stirring he felt again, Gia wasn’t as calm as she’d been earlier. He licked his lips nervously. “But maybe a little now.” This was okay, he reminded himself. The doctors could only help if they knew what was going on. “And you’d never met Ms Harmon before?” Campbell asked. “Or seen her?” Oh damn, what was that other doctor doing to her? Will tried, unsuccessfully, to slow his uneven breath which came in hard gulps of air. “Not that I can recall. Except that one time I hallucinated about. You know. I saw her with my coworker.” Gia naked on the dirt pile, writhing, impaled on Pettigrew’s cock. Will stared up at the curtain and tried to count the rings. “It was what she pictured, I think. When she was in the shower.” “You think, but you’re not certain, you shared her thoughts. Are you uncertain because you didn’t tell her exactly what you saw? I mean, did you two describe details of your sexual hallucinations to each other?” God. Details flooded him now. He saw her breasts, rising and falling, her legs spread, wrapped tight around a now-faceless man’s torso as she rode him. “Right. Yeah,” Will said before a new surge of images hit him. Why would the grinning face of Marton show up in his mind? Was she imagining fucking Marton now? Maybe it was like the machine’s controls she’d seen in her dreams. He could see everything she saw when she was aroused, even when the objects were unrelated to the arousal? Because, Jesus. If she imagined fucking Marton so soon after they’d done it— Campbell leaned forward and tapped his knee. “Excuse me? Mr. Taylor, are you all right? You’re breathing hard.” The doctor had to see his goddamn hard-on, too. This was worse than when he’d hit puberty and couldn’t control the surging libido. “I’m fine,” he snapped. “What I described is happening. I think it might be going on with Gia.”

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Campbell got up at once. “Be right back,” he said and snapped the curtain behind him. Will closed his eyes but then the images were too strong. His own face, lips parted and eyes narrowed. Panting and, holy crap, his aroused face looked like a man contemplating murder. No wonder she thought he disapproved. He could let it go, feed into the arousal, but she was there with two men. Sure they were doctors, but Will wanted to see Gia, find out if she was okay, so he fought the arousal. The curtain rattled. Marton watched him, the manic grin still on his face. His gaze fixed on the huge bulge in Will’s sweatpants. The grin widened. “Fantastic. This is the first time we’ve seen two people affected at once.” He swooped onto a chair. “This is something better than usual. Now tell me everything you saw. In detail.” Will squeezed a bit of skin hard on the crook of his elbow. Pain and arousal mixed and then another hard pinch gave way to only pain. “Let me talk to Gia first.” “She’s fine, fine.” Marton leaned forward and studied him as if he were a fascinating specimen. “I want to talk to her.” Will didn’t mean to shout. Marton blinked. “I thought you two weren’t really together. I mean, other than this issue. You only met a few hours ago, correct? Never mind,” he added hastily. “We’ll talk to you together again and then run a few tests. You guys must have been exposed at the same time. It’s the first time something’s happened to two people at once. I guess you encountered our perpetrator simultaneously. On that street corner. Such interesting symptoms.” “So you’re certain it’s some guy?” Will’s sexual energy switched over to something related to violence. He wondered if it was possible to track down the idiot who’d done this and tell him exactly what he could do with his interesting symptoms. “Maybe, maybe. We got a couple years of data and we’re pretty sure it’s just one guy.” “A couple of years? And no one’s managed to catch the idiot in the act?” Marton nodded. “He comes around every three months or so, does his strange stuff and wanders off. Thing is, not everyone notices the guy we suspect could be responsible. Anyway. For a few days every few months we get a number of people here, complaining of really freaky symptoms. Truth is? I was infected last year. Strangest thing I ever experienced. Very weird crap.” Marton sounded more like an enthusiastic undergrad than a doctor. Will slumped in the chair and rubbed at his eyes. The more this day dragged on, the less reality seemed to matter. “Tell me. Are you a real doctor? I mean, a physician?” Will yawned. “I’m an MD and PhD, if that’s what you’re asking,” Marton said. “But we have another test to run and I better get moving. You look pretty beat. I’ll get Gia, Ms. Harmon, I mean.”

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Will closed his eyes and listened to Marton’s footsteps, the rattle of the curtain closing, the murmur of voices. He must have dozed because he woke when someone touched his arm. No need to open his eyes to know who’d brushed his skin. Only one person could arouse every nerve in his body. “You okay?” he asked Gia. She sat next to him and nodded. Her skin looked pale, her eyes tired. The dark thick mane of her hair, which had been loose when they’d arrived, had been scraped back from her face and pulled into a ponytail. Now he could see the lines of her cheekbones and her jaw, delicate but strong. The usual wave of sexual desire washed over him, along with a tightening in his chest as he looked at her. An idiotic thought came to him. Just let those doctors try so much as a blood draw from her. He’d smash anyone who tried to hurt Gia. As Manda would say, he was feeling protective. Uh oh. Danger signs. Watch out when Will goes caveman. “What’s wrong?” Gia whispered. “You look really pissed off.” He forced himself to smile. “Hospitals aren’t my idea of a fun date.” Her grin looked genuine. “A date? You think that’s what we’re doing here?” “Not sure what category this evening falls into. Or what we’d call the weird crap going on with us. An accident?” She giggled. “It happened to you while you were on the job. Maybe you can get workman’s comp.” He laughed and the tightening in his chest squeezed harder. More danger signs. He really liked Gia Harmon. No fast falling in love, he’d warned himself. A nice quiet start is what leads to a mature, adult relationship. A rush of unnatural attraction wasn’t trustworthy. Screwing a woman before they had an actual, normal conversation didn’t count as a real relationship. He doubted people who’d started like they had, could ever get something he could believe in. Normal. “What’s next?” he said aloud. She must have thought he was talking about the immediate future. “They said they’re going to hook us up to machines in different rooms, expose one of us to different sort of stimuli and see how the other responds.” “Shit. I can guess what stimuli means.” “David said we don’t have to have anyone in the room with us. They’ll just read the results. You know, heart rates, brain waves, all that stuff. The tests aren’t intrusive.” “Who’s David?” “Dr. Marton.” “Huh.” She leaned close enough he could see the rise and fall of her breasts under the plain white shirt. “You don’t like him?”

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“He’s okay. He smiles too much. Like a shark.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips as she considered the matter. Damn, he wanted to kiss that mouth. “I see what you mean,” she said. “He does have a lot of teeth.” Suddenly Will liked Dr. Marton better. Another horrible sign—his dislike had been based on jealousy. Damn. He was so rotten at relationship crap. And since he didn’t want anything meaningless anymore, it must be time to take a vow of celibacy. “You look tired. That’s what it is. A long day at work and then this.” Her smile twisted. “Sorry.” “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who insisted we come here.” A playful glint came to her eye and she pushed aside the curtain to look out at the nearly empty space. “We could just leave.” Now why didn’t he think of that? “Tempting. They don’t seem too worried about the possibility that we might fall over dead.” “Exactly. They’re not acting like it’s an emergency. I don’t know if they can do much anyway. When I asked David, he said it would probably wear off on its own. All the 12-Ds tend to get better.” She’d been able to think and ask relevant questions—unlike him. He’d been too caught up in thinking and worrying about her. “Probably wear off?” he said gloomily. “And did they say they had no treatment?” She shrugged. “He said they can do experiments, try different sort of chemical blockers. He explained but I zoned out at that point and…” She blushed and he could imagine where her mind had wandered. No, no need to imagine because he’d felt it. Marton and Campbell returned with a large group of younger doctors. Interns, he supposed. They left the curtains open because the group was so large, they couldn’t all fit in the space. No way was Will going to drone on about his fantasies of Gia with that avid bunch staring at him. Campbell waved a sheaf of papers. “Here’re some consent forms for the tests we’ve set up, all invented as we go along, you might say.” Before Will could tell him what he could do with the tests, Gia said, “We think we’ll come back later.” She turned to Will and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we could make an appointment?” Such a light pressure of her fingers so close to his flesh. Only the ex-boyfriend’s worn cotton tee shirt between his skin and hers. Please, no, he did not want to get a hard-on in front of these gawkers. And even as the thought flitted through his head, he went as hard as a rock. He swallowed. “Ah, maybe—” he began. “You really should stay,” Marton interrupted. The tingle of Gia’s touch heated Will’s whole body. The blood roared in his ears. The second they got into her car, he’d be on her. What they’d done in her apartment 41

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earlier that evening would be a mere pat and a kiss compared to what he needed now. The wild thing loosed inside him would rage out of control. Maybe they shouldn’t leave after all.

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Chapter Five They handed him a magazine filled with photos of naked women. “Where do you keep these in the hospital?” he asked Campbell. “Fertility clinic,” Campbell said, serious as ever. He peeled the paper backing off another wire and tentatively put it on Will’s chest, muttering to himself. Apparently techs or nurses usually did this part of the job, but Campbell wanted to be in charge of every step. Using medically acceptable words, the doctor informed him that when the soft chimes rang out, Will should jack off. He should take his time and stare at the photos. A lot. Once he was done and ready for company again, he’d push the white button and they’d come disengage him from the various wires all over his body. The doctor looked him over, seemed satisfied and left him alone. Machines rhythmically whirred and beeped. Campbell had explained that in an examining room nearby, Gia sat with the same numbers of wires stuck to her body measuring her responses, plus a little recording machine with time stamps into which she’d describe exactly what she was seeing. As Will stared down at the first spread-eagled woman on the page, he thought of Gia, perhaps staring up at the ceiling, waiting for bizarre images to come to her. Was she left alone in a softly lit room too? Or was Marton standing over her, waiting. The doctor had definitely been checking out Gia’s breasts and probably not just for signs of arousal for some medical notes. The chime sounded and he sighed. Time to get to work. He settled back on the hospital bed and its pillows and opened the glossy magazine. The naked female on the page had posed with one hand caressing her hairless crotch and the other hand at her mouth, the scarlet painted nail of her forefinger shoved into her mouth. She had red hair on her head and skin. Had they airbrushed out any freckles? Why the fuck would they do that? Her pussy looked pale and perfect, no flush of arousal or untidy engorged lips. That little folded display looked as if it was made of plastic. Shaved women were supposed to be what, more hygienic? And why would anyone want to avoid catching the delicious scent of women or sex. Sure, hair might end up in your mouth but so what? Better some glorious messy woman than risking the sensation you’re boffing an underage female. Except maybe it would be fun to try Gia with no hair. It’d grow back, stubbly and then a dark glorious patch of curls.

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Wait. Damn. He was getting aroused, but he saw Gia without hair and then, much better still, unshaved and utterly feminine. He suspected she wouldn’t like to report to the researchers that the only thing he saw was her own body and face, pink-cheeked and wide-eyed with arousal. No. Better to focus on the assigned anonymous woman with long red nails. The pages were marked with tabs. He flipped through and wondered if Campbell picked the women he found most arousing, or the ones that had the most distinguishing features so that it would be easier for the image to transfer to Gia. Not that these woman had any distinctive features. Lovely, smooth, curvy females and nearly identical, except for hair and skin color. Come on, dammit, these beauties were an automatic turn-on. He gazed at a woman’s perfect heart-shaped backside. The gorgeous naked woman smiling over her shoulder at him in an invitation…and he wondered why they’d picked such an ugly fake fur for her to kneel on. He groaned. He’d never in his life had any trouble getting aroused. The opposite, in fact. That was his problem—arousal clogged his mind when it came to women. He flipped to the image of a red-haired woman, head back, mouth a perfect O. Her hands supported her breasts, offering them up to him. And he found himself wondering if her breasts were real and if what he’d heard was true—fake boobs felt harder than the real thing. Those things were too round and too large. Now why anyone would want to trade in something small-ish and perfect, like Gia’s firm breasts, for balloons— This was ridiculous. He liked big boobs. He loved big boobs, little boobs, any boobs. A couple of days ago, he’d spotted a tree root that looked like a woman’s hip and had gotten turned-on by that. A glance at a damn tree got him hard as wood and these naked, perfect females weren’t doing the trick. Nerves. He just had to pretend he wasn’t hooked up to a bunch of whirring machines with a group of eager doctors checking their watches, waiting for his orgasm. Swell. Which he wasn’t doing. He gave his cock a little squeeze of admonition. The faster he did this, the faster they’d know what part of their brains to shut down so he and Gia could lead a regular life. But maybe, as long as he didn’t go too near Gia, he’d be okay. Because at the moment, he’d stopped being his usual sex-fiend self and was a guy attached to a bunch of machines with his dick hanging out. By now Gia would be twiddling her thumbs or dozing. He snorted, recalling how they’d both passed out at the moment of orgasm. That seemed like a thousand years ago. Or maybe only a hundred years. A thousand years was when he lay in his bed imagining screwing her before he knew her—just this morning when he’d awakened to the sensation of a warm, soft, woman’s rear pressed to his erection. Okay, now that memory was working.

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He flipped to another picture, a woman with dark hair falling across her face turned to the side, one hand clutching her breast, the other holding the lips of her vulva apart so the magazine readers could get a closer look. Fine. He stared down at the hairless pink flesh and imagined pushing his now hard cock into it. Familiar territory now. Nothing more than stroking through the motions to release. His balls tightened. Good, nearly there. And then as he got closer to climax, he didn’t look down at the magazine but imagined Gia’s face again. Head thrown back as she rode him. She hadn’t done that yet, but he could see it clear as a real memory. She’d sucked in her lower lip, which was pale with the pressure of her teeth, biting down to keep from screaming. His back arched as he came, hard and more out of control than his usual efficient, get-it-done sessions with his right hand. The spasms jolted through him and then he remembered how to breathe again. “Shit,” he said out loud to the beeping machines and reached for more Kleenex conveniently placed at his side on the bed. “I’m sorry. Goddamn it, Gia.” He supposed he meant he was sorry she’d have to describe in detail her own face in orgasm. But he was also sorry that apparently she’d taken full possession of his sexual drive. That couldn’t be good for anyone. The machines, which had beeped louder and moved faster as he’d come, slowed again back to the steady thrum. He reassembled the cloth hospital gown and hunted for the white button to signal that they could unhook him from the machines. “Fuck you,” he said to the unknown person who’d done this to him. Will pressed down hard on the button. One moment Gia was contemplating how nice it would be to get home and into bed and the next she watched herself, naked, her head back, riding a man. Only this Gia was far wilder and prettier than the image she saw in the mirror every day. The machines attached to her beeped faster. She let out a small moan. “Um. I’m seeing me. And I think.” She glanced over at David who was taking furious notes. “I’m on top. And it’s just, you know. The basic.” He looked up. “That is?” “Sex. Vanilla,” she said. “Ah. No.” Gia couldn’t talk as the image grew brighter, stronger and her body began that ghostly ride. “Go on,” David encouraged, his voice a little husky. Gia, hyperaware of bodies, noticed that he sported a major erection. What a voyeur. But the tang of disgust wasn’t enough to stop the wave rolling through her. She held her breath, unsuccessfully fighting the response created outside her own body that crashed through her. She gasped and after a few seconds managed to speak. “You should go check on Will. I think he’s…finished.” He shook his head. “No, the others are doing that. You should give me details. We marked the time, now I need details.” His eyes were too bright and his mouth wet.

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“No,” she said. “I’m done. I’ve had enough.” She reached for a wire and pulled it out. A second later, David was there, holding her hand down so she couldn’t yank any more away. He leaned over her, breathing hard. She shrank back from the hot, glazed look. One hand still held her, the other slid down her body, slowly stroking her side which was naked under the loose hospital gown. No longer wearing the eternal smile, his mouth hovered just over her shoulder. He came closer—and Gia gave him a hard shove. David stumbled backward, slamming into a machine that teetered but didn’t fall over. “Oops!” With a laugh, David steadied himself. Then a puzzled frown crossed his face. “I just, erm, touched you inappropriately, didn’t I?” “Yeah, I’d say so.” Gia plucked the last of the wires out and began peeling the rubbery attachments off her skin. She jammed the nurse-call button a few more times. The gleam in his eye brightened. “There is no way I’ve been affected. I’ve been in the hospital all day and contamination must occur outdoors. This must be a secondary infection.” David caught her glaring at him and wilted. The smile and his scientific glow was replaced by something new. Finally the man looked embarrassed. “Gia, I’m so sorry. What I did was totally inexcusable. But I didn’t even think. I mean, I wasn’t thinking, just responding to something I don’t really… For one thing…” He cleared his throat and jammed his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “I wouldn’t normally say this to a patient, but I think it’s important to mention that I’m gay.” “Oh.” She stopped disentangling herself from the wires. “Then what was that? What were you thinking about? Will?” “I-I…” He shook his head slowly and she wasn’t sure if he was denying any thought of Will or just clearing his head. “I need to get someone else in here. I’ll have to be interviewed. This is extraordinary.” He held up his hand and stared at it. “I was touching her,” he murmured. A nurse opened the door and, with a hastily mumbled, “’Scuse me,” David rushed from the room. Gia let them take her blood pressure and other vitals. “Can I get you anything? Juice?” the nurse asked. She shook her head. “I want to see Will.” Needed to see him, actually. She had to be near someone who understood the craziness. “He got all cleaned up and said he was going to take a cab home.” The woman checked her watch. “Oh.” Will didn’t owe her anything, of course. They came in her car and he had to get home. It was late, almost one in the morning. Unlike her, he had work in the morning, bright and early. But still. He could have said goodbye.

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She felt bone-deep depression and disappointment. Almost as if she was startled to discover he’d cleared out without her. No reason she should be able to predict his actions. Had she seen any signs that he was a good guy? Or a bad one? No, she only knew he was a thoroughly delicious man and that might only be thanks to that rat bastard who fiddled with people’s minds. As she waited for Dr. Campbell, she pictured Will’s features. Strong blunt-featured face, pale eyes, tousled wheat-brown hair. A muscular, tanned body. Her body stirred again as she imagined him grinning at her, the small lines radiating from the corners of his mouth and eyes. In a few years he’d have permanent laugh lines. She saw him, naked. His strong hands on her hips, stroking her. Yeah, she’d find him attractive even without the strange effect of the hypnotism or whatever it was. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Dr. Campbell rubbed his gray sideburn nervously. “Dr. Marton required some… Ah. Well. Sorry that he was inappropriate. Well. Sorry. I promise this won’t take long.” “Will Dr. Marton be all right?” she asked. Dr Campbell immediately became less flustered. Maybe he’d worried she’d make a fuss about David’s strange attack. “He asked the same about you. I’m sure you both will be fine. The symptoms have already passed, he said. We’re assuming that the, ah, 12-D syndrome is extremely transient when passed on secondhand. Or perhaps it’s less strong when the patient has already been infected. He told you he’s been a victim of the syndrome?” She nodded. “Any questions for us?” She wanted to know if Will asked about her but didn’t want to look any more pathetic than she felt. “Nothing makes a difference? Not alcohol or coffee?” The doctor shook his head. “It just runs its course. And we’re hoping we’ll be able to eventually catch up with the perpetrator and ask questions. Mr. Taylor doesn’t recall seeing anyone like this but you mentioned a gray-haired man. Could you just describe everything you can about him one more time?” She sighed and gave the sketchy description of the homeless guy in the trenchcoat one more time. “But if Will doesn’t remember him, maybe there’s no connec— Oh.” She’d suddenly recalled the way the guy had glared up at Will. The doctor hunched forward on his stool, particularly excited about that little observation. “And you say he ate French fries?” She nodded. “Why? Are French fries associated with hypnotism?” “No, just any detail we can get. We, uh…” He made a clicking sound with his teeth and tongue—impatience or embarrassment. “There are some theories that the perpetrator isn’t even entirely human.” “What would he be instead?”

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The doctor scribbled on the chart and mumbled something about, “No question that he’s human. Just want as much as possible.” He was done then, and handing her a card, asked her to make a follow-up appointment. She was free to go. She walked out of the hospital into the reassuring scent of night and gas fumes in the garage.

***** Will wanted to go home to his small apartment, messy and familiar. Maybe Greg would give him a ride or he could call a cab. He’d left the bundle of dirty clothes in the car but had fished his wallet from the pocket of his jeans. Tomorrow he’d get the rest of his clothes and gear from Gia’s car. But just as he spotted the pay phone, Will decided not to flee. He’d wait until he’d said something to her. First he’d apologize to her. He wasn’t sure why. For dragging her here or for thinking about her or for disrupting her life. Something. He felt as if he had to offer some sort of apology—give her something. If only it could be an explanation. So he didn’t call a cab, and walked away, through the lobby doors into the hospital’s echoing, badly lit garage. As he leaned against her car, waiting, he had a fleeting image of himself smiling and knew from the strange accompanying swoop of sexual desire that the glimpse of his own face came from her. Freaky way to see himself. Not particularly accurate. Did he look that friendly? He doubted it. The other scowling and intent Will he’d glimpsed seemed more on target. But this was nice. She didn’t seem to hate him. Footsteps rang through the concrete garage. He stepped out into the light so she wouldn’t think he was some sort of mugger lurking in the shadows. She caught sight of him and her pale face broke into a smile. “Will,” she said and trotted toward him, beaming. “Hi,” he said. “You okay?” As she came closer to him he put his arms behind him and stepped back. A clear signal that they shouldn’t hug. Despite the exhaustion or maybe because of it, he felt too itchy for her touch and any contact might make the last of his self-control vanish. She seemed to understand. Her steps slowed and her smile faded, but not entirely. “Fine, all things considered. So where do you want to go?” She unlocked her car door, then stood, waiting for his answer. He was silent, unwilling to answer with the truth. Take me home. Let me sleep with you again. “How about we go back to my place?” she asked. He nodded and wondered why he’d agree when he knew he couldn’t be in command of himself near her. “Thanks,” he said and got into her car. 48

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They didn’t speak as they drove through the dark. Most of the stop lights were blinking now—the town rolled up its sidewalks after midnight. They might have been the only people awake in the world. Once again he followed her up the stairs, waited as she opened the apartment door. So much of the day he’d been a passive participant. Waiting for doctors, waiting for someone to tell him what the fuck was going on. She cursed as she tried to put the key in the lock and he finally noticed how her hand shook. He gently took it from her and slotted the key into the door. Sliding the key in just as he would so very soon slide into her. No way they’d be able to stop it. Screw polite courtship and relationships. No way he cared any more for anything but relief from the continuous aching need for her. Yeah, he was using her, he thought as he waited for her to pass him into the silent apartment. But her need pulsed through him as well. They clung together in their twisted passion and now, as she turned to face him, they clung together in reality as well. Hot hungry kisses, hands trying to feel every inch of skin. He had to pull back for a moment, just to calm the dizziness her touch created. They’d made it to the wall just inside the door. Now she was flat against it, and he was against her hard. He rested his head on the cool plaster next to her head. “Jesus,” he whispered into her hair. “Yeah.” Her hands were under his tee shirt, moving, stroking either side of his spine. “Kiss me.” More slowly now. Sinking into the deeper exploration of her sweet mouth. Even when he’d wedged his thigh between her legs and she rode his leg, writhing against him, even when her hands found his butt and she pulled him closer, he could keep the kisses deliberate. Mindless desire surged through him. Yes, but he wouldn’t let it control his body or hers. She sighed against his shoulder and nipped him through the cloth. “You’re fighting it.” He nodded. “You’re scared?” His ragged inhalation brought him the thick scent of their arousal. “I’d be a fool not to be.” “Yeah. It’s like cliff jumping.” He had a brief image of her flying through the air, arms outstretched, falling into blue water miles below. “It is,” he said softly. “So you’re all for throwing yourself into danger.” “I want to jump from the highest mountain. Leaping before I look.” She pressed rhythmically against his erection. Will skimmed her skin with his hands, but that didn’t satisfy him. He needed to see her skin, taste her. He yanked her tee shirt up and off and shucked it behind him. As he

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fumbled for her bra at the back, he licked the delicate line of her collarbone. He growled and palmed her rear, hauling her up. They were done with talk. Here, fast hard against the wall. Condom. Damn. He regained enough sanity to recall that the last time they’d done this, they’d passed out. “Your room?” he whispered. She pulled away, her mouth was swollen and wet, her face loose, unfocused and beautiful. He had to step back before he dove back into kisses. Gia turned and walked down the hall and he followed, reminding himself not to touch her. Yet. Her room looked as simple and elegant as the rest of the apartment. Cool greens and blues, but all he cared about was the bed. He tried to jam off the boots but had to sit on the edge of the bed to unlace them. She crawled up behind him, caressing his shoulders, pulling off his tee shirt. It took an excruciatingly long time to get undressed because they paused to kiss and nibble and stroke. Both of them were naked at last. He rolled on the condom. He sprawled on his back, pulling her on top of him. The slide of skin on skin made them both give an audible gasp. Dizzy with sensation. She straddled him and her slick warmth heated his stomach, and he could stroke her strong legs tucked against his side. She leaned close so he could lift his head to suck her breast. She started and moaned. He felt the echo of the tug in his own body and gentled the pull of his mouth. Her arms shook and he pulled her down onto him. He twisted so he could get his mouth on hers for kisses. He wanted every inch of her touching him, needed to push all the way into her. She licked his neck, ran her lips over his ear lightly and he felt it down his spine. “Yes,” she whispered. He thrust along the slippery warmth. Not in yet. She shuddered and he moved again, but he wanted more. Deeper. He craved what he’d only imagined in that sterile hospital room. She rose and reached between them and grabbed him, positioning his rock-hard cock to slide into her. He fought the urge to jam up hard, all the way in. Instead he moved slowly, matching her motions, feeling her tight body adjust around him. Careful, slow—he silently repeated the words, attempting to keep his mind from abandoning all thought for pure sensation. She moved on him, twisting, circling so deep. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, and next to his shoulder her panting moans puffed against his skin. She whimpered. So fast? Already? He held his breath, waiting for the rise in him, but he only felt his own excitement, the hot press of her squeezing his cock. Exciting, delicious, amazing. But not frightening. She shifted, sat up. He palmed her rear as she rose and settled, hard now. Faster. Riding him and her breasts jiggled. He reached for them, circled her nipples with the 50

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pad of his thumb as he pushed his hips up, urging her on. His balls tightened but he wanted to hold back, and he suppressed the faster, harder thrusts that would make him come more quickly. But her body moving on his was too much. “Gia,” he said. “Oh God. Please.” She gave a wordless surprised shout and her pussy squeezed him tight, over and over. He hauled her down on him, holding her as he pushed deeper still and exploded over and over. He muffled his cry on her shoulder and, wrapped tight in her arms, he shook. A small hot and wet drop landed on his neck. “Gia?” He twisted his head and stared at her then touched her cheek where the tear had left its track. She shook her head. “It is so fucking amazing,” she whispered. “That’s all.” He smiled. “Yeah.” She pulled away so he could discard the condom. He lifted the rumpled quilt, and even though he was hot, went under the covers. Perhaps he should try to get home. But first he craved nesting. Some form of comfort after the long, strange night. Cammi hadn’t been much of a cuddler and he was glad when Gia scrambled over to lie next to him. He pulled her closer. “Here, this is different. We’re still awake,” he said as he settled onto his back, holding her in his arms. “And I can imagine a time when I just do this,” he rubbed a finger over the line of her neck, “and not need to get inside you immediately.” She gave a watery chuckle. “That’s good.” He nodded and pulled her closer. Her breath sharpened and the pulse in her throat throbbed faster. His balls ached as excitement threaded into him again. He ignored his cock, which stirred again. “Hey,” he said softly. “Would you mind if I spent the night? I promise not to steal the silver.” She stiffened and he wondered if he shouldn’t have reminded her of a basic truth— they’d shared hot fantasies and even hotter sex, but they knew almost nothing about each other. “You take whatever you want,” she whispered. Her hand stroked his belly and even though her fingers grazed his hardening cock, she didn’t grope for it. “Just leave the coffee and the half and half. And the Grapenuts.” “That what you eat in the morning?” She nodded, her hair tickling his chin. He barely paid attention to what he was saying or doing, too busy inhaling her scent, the luscious combination of sex and Gia. He wished the bottomless ache for her would retreat. It was too loud, shouting over everything else.

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He forced his eyes closed, tried to control his stuttering breath. And after a few minutes, at last his body relaxed and he slid into sleep. But the dream that seized him almost at once was thick and sensual. So full of craving. Her breasts, her belly, all of her under his hands, and the unquenchable thirst for her rose up. He tried to grab her, pull her closer, but she squeaked and pulled away. “Please,” the dream Will begged. “I need you.” And then a second later he sank into her and they were fucking again. Hard and fast and… He woke up breathing hard, his hips thrusting. As his eyes opened he saw hers, only inches away below him. She stared up at him, mouth open, her brow furrowed. Will lay on top of Gia. Inside her. Fucking her. She was hot, warm and wet. He could feel every detail. “Shit!” he shouted then yanked himself out and rolled away. “Oh God, you didn’t want to.” “I didn’t?” She twisted onto her side. “No, you didn’t. You don’t like this. I do.” She gingerly reached between her legs and touched herself with her fingertips. “I dreamed it and then there we were. I think I’m getting sore.” She sat up. “Did you have a dream that we were doing that?” He nodded. “I was pleading with you to…” He waved a hand vaguely to indicate where they’d been lying together, making unconscious love. “Ha. I was begging you in mine.” She sighed. “I thought I wanted to only sleep with you. Snuggle. It’s been so long since someone was in my bed and…well. But that’s too much. I mean I almost came in my sleep just now. I guess that means you almost did too? That would be really bad.” There was the understatement of the night. He nodded and they both looked down at his still hard cock. No condom. God, that had felt so good, a fleeting thought came to him. He wanted that part of him naked and inside her again. Now. “It’s too much, isn’t it,” she said mournfully. Hell yes, he wanted to say. Too good and too dangerous. She stood and walked into the bathroom. When she came out, she reached into a big trunk at the bottom of the bed. She pulled out another quilt and headed toward the bedroom door. “Where are you going?” he demanded. “To the couch.” “This is your apartment. Let me sleep there.” She turned toward him and the circles under her eyes were dark. “I don’t have to work in the morning,” she said. “You are going to be out there, right?” She pointed in the direction of the work site. True enough, in a few hours he was going to report to work wearing his grubby, stinking clothes with not enough sleep, but no way was he chasing her out of her room. 52

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He padded over to her and took the quilt. “Let me,” he said. “You sleep in your own bed.” She chewed on her bottom lip. He risked a small kiss on that lip. And then pulled away fast, before the passion flamed up again. “Your own bed,” he repeated. “Good night.” He walked out of her room, closing the door soundlessly behind him. He stopped and tapped on the door. “Lock it, okay?” A moment later, he heard a click. Exhausted, he dragged himself to the couch where he wrapped himself in the comforter that smelled like Gia and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke disoriented, wondering if he’d fallen asleep at work—some sort of machine made persistent thrum nearby. Then he smelled coffee and realized the growl came from a coffee grinder. Gia’s apartment. He staggered to his feet and kept the quilt wrapped around him to hide his morning wood, although in her presence it was a foregone conclusion that he’d have an erection. She stood at the counter, pouring out the ground coffee. “Hello.” Her voice was a low rasp. Good, not a chirpy person in the morning. He nodded to her, trying not to notice her deliciously rumpled hair and sleeppinkened face, and went into the bathroom. He found a facecloth and wiped himself off fast. Not another shower—he wasn’t going to get naked or touch any part of himself while he was in her apartment. He dressed, mostly in his own clothes but still using the tee shirt she’d lent him, then went back out into the kitchen where she silently handed him a cup of coffee. “Damn,” he muttered after the first sip. “I’d marry you for your coffee.” He immediately regretted saying that, but she only smiled and said, “It’s good thing you have some standards for your future wife.” The air was thick with discomfort and arousal but he’d gotten more used to the latter. It helped that he’d shed the boner-showing sweat pants. The discomfort was new. He suspected it was a variation of something he’d experienced in his barhopping days. The weirdness of waking up in a stranger’s house, this time multiplied by about a thousand. He should have left before they reached this. He would clear out as soon as politely possible.

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Chapter Six “Want some breakfast?” She ambled over to a cabinet but didn’t open it, waiting for his answer. What was behind the cabinet door? Cereal? She ate Grapenuts, he remembered now. The stuff was like chewing gravel. Maybe she would get down flour for pancakes. He wondered if she cooked, but didn’t think he should hang around to find out. Arousal was quickly edging out social awkwardness in his thoughts. “No thanks.” Any second he’d go. Time to say goodbye and thanks for the terrifying mind-blowing sex. Sorry about trying to fuck you bareback in your sleep. He could hear the guys at the site outside. The Cat would be fixed. They had to be waiting for him. No doubt his cellphone, which he’d forgotten at home yesterday, would have about thirty messages from Greg. She leaned a hip against her counter and watched him over the rim of her coffee cup. “I guess we’ll have to set up a time to meet with the doctors later on—” He shook his head. “No. They can’t help us. They said as much. And it’s going to go away eventually.” She frowned and put down her cup. “Are you so certain? I mean last night, we were doing it unconscious. By the way…” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been tested and I guess it’s worth mentioning I’m disease free. In case you’re wondering about that.” He hadn’t been. “Yeah. Me too.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot and gave a short laugh. “The sort of conversation we’re supposed to have before, not after. But hey, at least we’re talking. That’s got to be a good sign, right?” Talking, but how much longer before he closed the distance between them. “Anyway I should go.” “Leave, you mean? But we have to keep talking. What if the whole thing isn’t getting better on its own?” “Could be it’s already less potent. I’ve managed to think about how good the coffee tastes, without comparing it to how you taste.” Oh shit. Only now he did and her flavor won, no contest. That was what he really wanted for breakfast—hot, moist Gia. “Right.” He grabbed his hat and vest and clumsily tucked everything under his arm. “I’m going before…anyway, I’m already late. Thank you for everything, Gia. It’s been amazing in a lot of ways. Thank you.” “Past tense,” she said and gave a small sniff. Disdainful and he didn’t blame her. She shrugged. “Oh well.” “It’s just that I want something that’s more than sex, and for now we can’t seem to get—”

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“All right, all right,” she interrupted him, her voice sharp at last. “Your goal is that wife and two-point-five kids and I want fun. Blah, blah, blah. I get it.” “Sorry.” He grinned. “I am being a pain about it. But I think I’m trying to convince myself as well as you. Okay, well. Thanks. Bye.” This wasn’t exactly his finest hour. But he was at war with himself and had trouble forming words. He’d send her flowers. Some sort of offering would be good. He paused at the door. “If it stays really bad, I guess you’re right, we’ll have to call the doctors again.” He left without a hug, kiss or handshake. Because of course if he touched her, he expected several hours would pass before he could surface to sanity again. Gia stared at her closed front door and wondered what she could have said to keep him there. Nothing, she supposed. He was gone. Probably a good thing because, yes, what happened between them was freaky. But she loved so much of it. Gia felt thoroughly alive for the first time. And Will? He resented the whole thing. Good thing he could walk away, the coward. Naturally, her next thought was a contradiction of her last one—he was smart, not cowardly to leave. Disappointment had to be making her snarky because the man had been sweet about it. He didn’t have to apologize for dumping her when they weren’t even really a couple, at least not willingly. A nail stuck to a magnet doesn’t get to choose. “Bye, Will.” She sighed and picked up the mug and raised it in a silent toast of farewell. Then she realized he couldn’t just walk away. If that bizarro shared bond remained, he’d still be tied to her any time she got aroused. She sipped the last of her coffee and got down the box of Grapenuts. It would be downright wicked to…take a shower, she thought as she dumped yogurt on the cereal. She snickered, but decided to do the decent thing. No messing around, at least not until he’d left work. Maybe later. She’d wait until he was alone and then, she’d touch herself until he came to her house begging for mercy. So many possibilities, even without him. Today she’d go to the drugstore and buy herself a personal massager. Before the start of this whole thing she’d never considered such a thing. Now. Oh boy. Something had withered away and she suspected it was her inhibitions. And better still, something wonderful had replaced fear. Her body had been transformed so that even the Grapenuts tasted better. She savored the thick crunch and sweetness that contrasted perfectly with the sour flavor of yogurt. Breakfast wasn’t usually this delicious. Gia showered, resisting the urge to play with the showerhead again. Wow, her body tingled and felt so awake and aware, but she would let the anticipation grow. And prevent an industrial accident outside her door.

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She dressed quickly, but couldn’t help noticing details like the rub of the soft cotton blouse on her skin. Could he feel it too? The tamping down of desire seemed to result in strange outbursts of awareness. Her breath quickened and she wondered if he’d done or seen something. So close. She looked out the window. All of the men working on the corner looked sinfully delicious now, but Will drew her attention. God, how was she going to get anything done with him so near? She wasn’t. There was no point in trying. She put on her interview clothes, grabbed her cell phone and headed for the library. Luckily she could get to her car without passing close to him, tantalizing her with the urge to do something—anything—even just say hello. Maybe a few miles of distance would clear her head, and body. It did seem to make a difference. Two miles away, as she walked from her car into the library, her body felt heavier, less attuned to the air and whispers of internal stirring. She signed up for a public computer, checked her email and settled in to search for more job opportunities. As she checked her profile on an online job site, her phone rang. With an apologetic grimace at the person at the next computer, Gia dove for the phone. The caller ID spelled out the name of one of the bigger companies in town. Gia gathered up her bag and papers and answered the chirping phone while walking away from the room full of glaring library patrons. It was the personnel officer of the company. Brisk to the point of rudeness, the woman introduced herself and got straight to the point. “Are you available for an interview today or tomorrow?” “Yes, oh, yes. Any time you want.” Too bad she sounded eager—she wanted a job. Except eagerness meant she’d given the right answer. The personnel woman’s voice, warmer now, invited her to come for an interview. “You can make it here in a half an hour?” “Absolutely.” Gia was already planning the route. She raced into the bathroom to make sure she looked less demented than she felt. As she combed her hair, she reviewed everything she knew about the company offering her an interview. Not the most fascinating work—another insurance group—but they were supposed to offer decent money. Mike worked for them, she knew. What if she ran into him? Not likely to happen because about a thousand other people worked there too. She squinted at her lipstick which looked fine. No, she refused to worry about Mike. She even grinned, smearing her lipstick a little as she remembered how her sarcastic friend Sooz insisted that Gia always seemed to silently add the phrase “the love of her life” to his name. Sooz started referring to him as Mike Carter, LOHL.

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He’d broken her heart more than six months ago and it was past time to escape his hold on her. In fact, could it be happening all ready? She froze as she tucked away her makeup bag. This was the first time she’d thought of him since she’d seen him at that light. Maybe the person who’d magicked her had done that for her. Yay, magic person. Yay, Will, she corrected. And thank goodness it was Will. Once again she felt chilled by the random stranger factor. What if she’d somehow been linked with someone other than Will? She could have been keyed to the sex drive of someone unpleasant—or worse. A thief, a rapist with horrible fantasies, a murderer. Even in the heaviest frenzy of lust, Will Taylor was a considerate lover. A fabulous kisser too. She leaned against the sink as her knees melted at the memory of the taste of him. Warm muscles and skin— Uh oh. She was aroused. Maybe he was too, but she hoped not. He was far away now. She tested that strange echoing inside her, the twinges she thought came from him. All the lust coursing through her seemed to be her own at the moment. Chances were he’d only feel her response if she had full-on sex with an orgasm. Mmm, one of those body-transforming, nerve-screaming orgasms with Will clutching her, thrusting deep. Whoa, no. She had to get ready for a fricking job interview. They’d joked about affecting each other during crucial moments but she’d managed to get in this…distracted state all by herself. Gia glanced at her watch. It was ten fifteen which meant she had less than fifteen minutes. She race-walked through the library then ran across the parking lot to her car. By the time she showed up at the company and found her way to the office, she was a few minutes late. But that disaster was nothing compared to what was waiting for her in the personnel office. Two women and one man stood around chatting. She didn’t know the women, but the man was too familiar. She swallowed hard and squeezed her hands tight. “Oh, hello, Mike.” She tried to sound delighted and unsurprised to see him. It didn’t work apparently, because he grinned, showing that dimple. “You look astonished, Gee, didn’t you remember I work here? The job is in my department, so Lynne asked me to sit in on the interview.” “Great!” Gia held out a hand because one of the women seemed to be doing the same. Right. Handshake. She could manage this. “I’ll go see if the conference room is ready,” said Lynne. She clipped out of the room, as brisk and purposeful in her walk as she’d been on the phone. The other woman who hadn’t been introduced drifted away. “We’ll talk,” she said to Mike in a low conspiratorial voice. “Later.” She was alone with Mike Carter—LOHL, she heard Sooz’s voice in her head. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and rested the edge of his thigh on a desk. “Well, well. It’s been quite a while.” He still grinned at her and Gia wondered why that grin looked so satisfied.

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She could tell him within an hour how long it had been, but she only said, “Yup. Sure has.” She frowned. “I saw you near my apartment the other day. In your car. I guess you didn’t see me.” The cat-in-cream smile faltered a bit. “I guess not,” he said. His voice grew low and husky, the gravelly voice that had once made her quiver, and he said, “I would have stopped to say hello. I’ve missed you.” God, those words would have sent her heart soaring and her blood singing. Would have? Now she felt a little uncomfortable and wondered if the strain between them was going to cost her the chance at a job. And that confident smile still on his face— suddenly it sucked that he knew she’d pined for him all this time. He liked the power he held over her, even when he hadn’t wanted her. Shit. Why hadn’t she seen that before? Thank goodness Lynne came back in the room at that moment, because Gia almost accused him of playing with her and even if it might have been satisfying personally to tell him to go to hell, professionally it would be a mistake. Being here was probably a mistake. They sat at a large, well-polished conference table in a room with strange acoustics so that Lynne, who’d oddly picked a chair far away at the end of the big table, sounded as if she was right next to Gia. Mike sat next to her and she had to say “What?” whenever he spoke. The job was basically glorified admin but it did have some chance of advancement to more interesting work. The pay was enough to cover the mortgage and most of her bills. The way the two of them, Lynne and Mike, talked about the work, it sounded like a mission. “We underwrite most of the grocery stores on the eastern corridor of the adjoining states. So there is some travel.” She nodded, hoping to be agreeable. “We get to spend the night in some great places,” Mike said with a wink. “Definitely a step up from the Holiday Inn Express.” That gravelly warmth was back again. We’ll be together in a nice hotel, the voice promised. She wondered if Lynne could hear the suggestive quality of his words or if Gia was too sensitive to sex at the moment. No, Lynne definitely shot him an eyebrows-raised look of surprise. What the fuck was he doing? She twisted in her chair to glare at him. He seemed to feel her hostility because the smile vanished at last and he settled back in his chair, shifting away from her. Lynne asked, “Any more questions, Gia?” Gia knew that she was supposed to ask things that would show her knowledge of the company but she couldn’t summon a single thing to say. “No thanks. You’re both so clear, I totally understand what the job is about.” She hoped that didn’t sound as brown-nosing to them as it did to her. Gia wanted a job, even one that gave her constant exposure to Mike Carter. 58

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“Would you like to see the department?” Mike asked. “I’ll give you a tour.” The department consisted of a big room with a few cubicles and three offices off to the side. He led her into the biggest office. “This is mine. Great view huh?” He was right. The building was taller than most in town and on a hill. The spires and a few high-rises poked up from an orange and yellow glowing blanket of autumn trees. “Wow,” she breathed as she looked out. “I’ve missed you,” he said again. “But I wonder if it would be a good thing for us to work together.” He stood near her and she caught his scent, smoke covered with a bit too much Old Spice. Damn, it brought back memories. Some good—laughter and aching love. Some not so good. Those things he’d said about her in bed, the day he refused to say he loved her and announced he wasn’t coming back. “So how’s it going, Mike?” she asked brightly. He gave a one-shouldered shrug which set off more sharp memories. Not so much of him, but of the nights she’d lain in bed and cried, missing the damned shrug and him. She’d longed to see that small motion that had seemed so poignant. The crying hadn’t been a waste of time, she told herself. Love is never useless, her mother once said, or maybe it was a saying from a tee shirt. No matter. So maybe he hadn’t been a waste of time either? “I’ve thought about you, a lot, Gee.” “Yeah, I think about you too,” she said then wondered why she’d admit that. He had smiled at her in that knowing way. “But less lately,” she added. “Oh?” She noticed a piece of fluff on her blue skirt and picked it off. To get to the trash she’d have to push past him, so she let it fall from her fingers. “You look good,” he began. No way. “Mike. I’m having a hard time here, and even though I’ll probably screw up my chances at a job—” He shook his head vigorously. “No, no of course not. Go ahead and say what you want.” She wouldn’t take the job, not working for him, so she did. “Okay. You’re telling me you miss me and that I look good—well, then why? Why did you dump me? Why didn’t you call and say ‘Whoops, I made a mistake’?” He frowned and she remembered that look too, the furrowed brow, eyes heavy with sorrow or contemplation. Will wouldn’t look so ponderous. She hadn’t seen him thoughtful. Thinking maybe, but not so much of a pose. “I wasn’t ready for something that big and you were more than ready. But you’ve changed.” He gazed into her eyes, still serious. “You look less tightly wound and your—” 59

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“Ready for what?” she said impatient again. “Marriage, settling down forever. And you were so serious about the whole thing.” She opened her mouth to argue but realized he was right. She’d been in love and it hadn’t been fun. It had been a solemn business. “Huh,” she said. “Yeah, I think I understand.” His brow smoothed. He even smiled. “I don’t think you could have said that six months ago. Gee, really you’ve changed. You really look amazing, like your skin.” “What?” She was distracted from her deep concentration trying to recast herself in her own past, taking on the role of emotional drag. “I said your skin looks wonderful. All rosy and pretty. Luminous. And your eyes are bright, so pretty.” The red cheeks probably came from Will’s beard. And the eyes? She was on the edge of tears. She realized he had moved closer. She’d forgotten he was only a couple of inches taller than she was and his breath touched her face so she could smell the cigarettes and fruit gum on his breath. Not very long ago, she’d craved that taste. His lips parted as Mike tilted his head, and she knew he’d kiss her. All right, why not? She expected to feel the fierce sensation of instant arousal, of excitement. This was Mike, for God’s sake. Mike Carter, love of her life. He didn’t start slow, but pressed his open mouth to hers, barged right in with a tongue-thrusting kiss. That suggestive in and out? Had he always done that right away? She twisted her head a little so she could get air. Now she remembered he’d been a pouncer. From hello to ready to be inside her in a matter of minutes. She’d thought it was passionate and intense. Or had she only thought that after he left her? There had been that day in a park under the spreading branches of a tree where he’d gone after her like that, and for a moment as his body had blocked the view of the tree and the sky, she’d felt a rush of claustrophobia. Panicked, Gia had pushed him off and rolled away. She’d forgotten that passing sensation until now. He enveloped her like he wanted to engulf her entirely, overwhelm her. Isn’t that what she liked? When she’d woken up at four a.m. in the middle of an erotic dream to discover Will on top of her, inside her, yeah, she’d liked that. Loved it, craved it, wanted more. Thinking of Will inside her, her belly twisted, growing heavy with lust. And now the fierce onslaught by Mike was matched by her own frenzy. He backed her against the desk and wedged his body between her legs, thrusting his erection at her. She remembered how Mike’s penis tilted a little to the right and oh, how she wanted to see that again. Feel and taste him. His body was familiar, but this hunger for him was new and unfamiliar. Sex in the past had been more about what he’d wanted. Now she wanted too.

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He moaned and pushed harder. Her skirt had hitched up so the back of her leg scraped against the desk. The annoying jab of wood woke up her brain. It was more of the stranger’s magic lunacy. Jesus, she wasn’t thinking. Even though her body cheered him on, her mind had to know better. Going any further would screw her up totally. She’d finally broken free of Mike Carter, and she had to tell him about it too. He pushed again, and she slid farther onto the desk and away from his demanding pelvis. “Enough,” she whispered. “Mm?” Mike tongued the edge of her ear. Her arousal had died down again, but for a moment she remembered Will nibbling her ear and remembered the shivers down her spine. Will might not want her, but he had done her a huge favor. Her night with Will taught her that sex with Mike had been less than perfect. Not the only reason to let go of her Mike memories, but it would help her resist temptation. She twisted and ignored the throb of arousal. “No.” She shoved at Mike, who was biting and licking his way down her neck. He had just settled in to slurp at particular spot, no doubt leaving a big red mark. He froze then heaved a sigh, his breath chilling against the damp skin of her neck. “No? But I thought you wanted this. Me.” His hands still rested on her hips. He squeezed them. “I did too. But I think I’ve changed my mind.” She slithered out of his grasp, back onto the carpeted floor, and pulled her skirt down. “So you didn’t really love me after all,” he said, sounding like a gravely disappointed adult upon discovering a child had been lying to him. A choking anger filled her throat but almost as quickly dissipated. “I thought I did but…” He folded his arms. “But what?” “I guess I met someone.” “You’re seeing someone else?” She pushed back her hair that had gotten in her face during their brief tussle. “That’s so astounding?” He puffed out a breath. “Didn’t mean to insult you, Gia. Is there someone else?” “Not really. He’s not…interested.” “Ah, so you only get hot about a guy when he dumps you or is indifferent.” The anger bubbled up again, not as fierce. “No.” She managed to sound calm. “He’s not indifferent. And you know that wasn’t true when we were together. You said it yourself—I was way too interested in you. Too serious.” He snorted. “I’m talking about sex. You were never really hot before, not like this.”

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She considered slapping him, but she didn’t see the point. And anyway, she realized he was right. Their love hadn’t been an inferno—and she’d even been sort of damp and clinging. Maybe it was because she’d never met anyone who could set her on fire. She wasn’t about to go into this with Mike. For once she’d walk away instead of pleading with him to talk. Ha, no reason to stick around. Gia scooped up her bag from the desk and turned to leave. Mike held up a hand. “Again. Sorry. That was rude of me,” he said. “Don’t you want to talk about the job?” She forced a smile onto her mouth. “No. Thanks, anyway. It was good to see you again.” That wasn’t a lie. This felt like a real goodbye and she hadn’t really had that with him. Maybe she’d go out and get a celebratory cup of coffee or even a drink, something feminine, fruity-pink and wickedly alcoholic so she could toast the end of Mike Carter as the LOHL. One drink would put her to sleep today. She’d postpone the celebration for another day and even invite a friend or two to share the occasion. She started for the door. “Gia.” He rushed ahead and stood in front of her so she couldn’t get around him. “How about this. You don’t have to work for me. I can see that’s a problem. But I happen to know there’s another job opening up on this floor. I can walk you over to meet the boss. Okay?” She rocked back on her heels. “Really? You sound pretty pissed off. And I’m not real crazy about you at the moment.” He gave the one-shoulder shrug. “But you need a job, right?” He held out a hand. “I want to be friends.” From jerk to nice guy in a few short moments. She shook his hand, wondering which Mike was the real version. “Thanks.” The delightful sense of freedom that swamped her when she realized he’d lost his hold on her dissipated slightly now that he wasn’t just a rat-fink bastard. “No hard feelings?” He sounded truly concerned. “None,” she said and maybe that would be true in a few minutes when her anger died entirely. He held onto her hand a little too long for a businesslike handshake. Warm, soft hands clasped hers. And she remembered Will’s hands. Scarred, calloused, long fingers with blunt tips, rough and searing on her body, cupping her face as he kissed her. Small, gentle kisses and then…she was breathing hard, aroused again. “You okay?” Mike took a step back and peered at her. “Yup, sure,” she babbled. “Just fine. A-Okay.” He smiled the slow seductive smile now. Jesus, she remembered he used to spend a lot of time in the bathroom and now she wondered if he was in there practicing facial expressions.

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“What’s so funny?” he asked as he held the door open. “Just everything. The last couple of days have been pretty strange,” she said. “Tell me about it over lunch?” Was he trying again? “No, thanks. After we meet with your friend down the hall, I have to go. Another appointment.” She had an appointment with her bed and was going to go spend some quality time flat on her back, asleep. Maybe if she was less tired she’d have better control over the flashes of arousal. After the meeting with the PR man down the hall—a graying, stooped man who seemed puzzled at the introduction—Gia went straight home. Maybe she should have changed into sweats instead of just pulling off her interview skirt and blouse and flopping onto the bed almost naked. She hadn’t considered the consequences on napping in the vicinity of Will. The vivid dream started with Mike who turned into Will, and then both of them touched her, slid their hands over her breasts, warm tongues on her flesh, between her legs, lapping hungrily. In her dream, Gia sank into the giddy all-out lust she longed for. She wrapped her body around limbs, urged on the two men who stroked and licked her, screwed her and… One of them was yelling her name and pounding hard on something that wasn’t her.

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Chapter Seven Will hadn’t noticed Gia leaving her apartment that morning, but when he went for a stroll down the sidewalk during a site coffee break, he saw her car was gone. “Checking on your new girlfriend?” Greg trotted up behind him. “So you gonna tell me what really happened? Manda’s going to get it out of you. Might as well practice your explanation with me.” Will shrugged and trudged back around the corner toward the work site. They were nearly done with the job. The regular city operator would be back next Monday even if they didn’t finish up this corner. Greg put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m serious, dude. You know Manda’s friend Lizzy’s a nurse at the hospital. She saw your name somewhere. Staying over at a strange girl’s house when you keep insisting you’re not like that anymore—that’s one thing.” He gave a thumbs-up. “But a hospital in the middle of the night is—” “Lizzy told her? Isn’t that some sort of ethical breach? Telling people their relatives are in the hospital? I can swear I saw some paper about patient confidentiality.” “Yeah. Sure. Keep up the indignant crap with me, if you want. But, Manda.” He shook his head. He was right, of course. Manda would gnaw at Will until he either stormed off or told her the truth. Going into a rage at her might slow Manda down, but never stop her. She’d bring it up the next time they met, and the next and the next… No, the only option was lying or confession. Will gave up. “It’s the thing I was telling you about. The weird imagining what was going on in someone else’s body. It happened with her.” “The cute Italian-looking girl? Oh, and you said it was sexy too. I wouldn’t mind sharing some fantasies with her.” “Shit, Greg, could you grow up, for God’s sake?” Will told himself his disgust was for his sister, not because Greg smirked when he talked about Gia. No way Will would get jealous again. That had turned out entirely crappy with Cammi. Greg responded the way he usually did when they got into an argument on the job—he turned into a boss. He checked his watch. “Come on, it’s almost 10:15, we got to get back.” Will was climbing into the machine when the wave slid over him. Almost familiar now. Somewhere out in the world, Gia was aroused. He was kissing her in his imagination and hers. “Damn,” he said aloud and slapped a hand hard against the cold metal of the Cat. That served to distract him. He smiled. This was good, a sign of control. If he could control this stuff, he could maybe see her again, in person.

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But God. At that thought he’d turned pathetic and panting again, with no warning. You’re an idiot, he thought as he hauled himself up. Give it up. He wondered where she was, what she was doing, if she was furious at him for running away. “We’re ready,” someone’s voice crackled on his walkie-talkie. He gave a nod and got back to work. He almost forgot the bizarreness until a couple of hours later. He idly watched Greerson’s outstretched hand waiting for the signal to lower, when Will lurched into arousal. For a second his brain conjured the image of man he didn’t know. High forehead, sharp chin, thick eyebrows and heavy, amorous eyes. Was it her thought? Or maybe his own imagination was at play because the face came and went quickly. The theory that he’d conjured the sight himself died when he saw the man again. Not a sharp vision or entirely distracting like some of the moments he’d shared with Gia. Only an image, with no other sensation of lust—more like something he’d conjured from a scene in a movie he’d once watched. Oh man. Not a G-rated movie either. The ghostly craving oozed through him. He pulled a ratty bandana from his back pocket and wiped his sweating forehead and hands with it. Damn. Was she actually with this man? She was stirred sexually, or he, Will, wouldn’t be sharing. Damn again. In the hospital he’d been unable to respond to pictures of perfect naked women. Will had needed the memory of Gia to finish the job. Apparently she didn’t need Will to get aroused. And here, only hours after they’d touched each other, Gia was either fantasizing about or actually touching another man. Not for long, though. Almost as soon as he’d tucked away the bandana, his vision cleared and he saw only the men and machines in front of him and felt only the pounding of his own heart. The incident was enough to make him rethink contacting Campbell. Or he could go home and rummage around his medicine cabinet. Only thing in there was Advil. It worked on aches and pain, maybe it would dull peculiar brain waves. As if the startling visions weren’t annoying enough, now he knew Gia had other men on her mind. Not only was this an invasion of her thoughts, it was not news he wanted to learn. The last of the blocks was lowered in place, the last bucket of dirt piled into the excavation. Will carefully backed the machine up the narrow dirt ramp, the beeping back-up signal covering the sound of traffic and the talking around him. He was ready to quit for the day, more than ready to go home, when the sound of moaning hit him. It had to be loud to be heard over the distraction and noise. He glanced all around, but no woman groaned with lust anywhere on the corner. No one else seemed to notice. He bumped to a halt and climbed down. Greg walked over. “Something wrong with the Cat?”

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Will shook his head. “No, me.” He must have looked as wide-eyed, pale-faced loony as he felt because Greg didn’t joke around for once. “Okay, you knock off early. I can give you a ride.” Will barely heard him. “No. No, I’ll get back. I’ll be…” He waved and concentrated on walking normally and not staggering to the other side of the street. The other guys watched him but he couldn’t stop to explain. She had to be home. No way he’d feel this unless Gia was near and no way she’d be out in public doing whatever the fuck she was doing. The downstairs door hadn’t been shut properly so he managed to get inside the building before collapsing on the stairs. Shit. That other guy. She was with him? Maybe. Yes, but he saw himself, too, licking her breast. Will could taste her flesh, feel the nipple hardening against his tongue—and at the same time he felt the heat of his own mouth spreading through his body. Her body. This was too much. She might thrive on the muddying sensations but he wanted to reclaim his own body and thoughts. Why was she doing this to him? She hadn’t struck him as a bitch. Another wave of lust rocked him. He moaned and kept his hands from diving into his own pants to relieve the ache. Right. He made it to the door which someone had left ajar and he charged up the stairs. Too bad if she was entertaining company. How she could someone else touch her body… Oh shit. Indignation died way when he recalled that he’d said adios. He had no claim on her. But still. Whatever she was doing went beyond taunting into torture. “Gia! Goddamn it, Gia,” he called as he pounded on her door. “Stop it.”

***** Gia jolted awake. Even half-awake and unsure if it was day or night, she understood at once what had happened. She stumbled from the bed and lurched into a bathrobe. The pounding at her front door had stopped. Probably Will had felt the sexual storm die and drain away as she woke up. She opened the door and grimaced. Will hadn’t even taken off his hard hat. He glowered at her, hands on hips, shoulders back ready for confrontation. “Come on in,” she said and turned away. He didn’t move. “You’re alone?” She yawned and nodded. “I was asleep.” “Oh.” He jammed his hands into his pocket. He slouched in then shut the door. “You were dreaming. So you couldn’t control…it.”

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“Exactly,” she said. She raised her arms and ran her fingers through her hair, which had come loose in her sleep. Gia couldn’t call back the dream she’d been having. Erotic, as they tended to be for the last couple of days, but she’d lost the details of the dream. For once the heat and desire were gone, interrupted by his startling banging on her door. She felt only groggy and disoriented. Napping sucked. As she pushed back tendrils of hair, Will gave a soft protesting groan and she understood he hadn’t lost the details and was still in the grips of their shared dream. The poor man stared at her as if she were the last drops of water in a huge desert, his expression taut, angry and miserable, his eyes hot and his mouth hard. Nice lips. “Hold on a sec,” she said. Maybe a dose of cold water would do him good. She waved a hand at the dish drainer where she stored her few glasses. “Get yourself something to drink. I’ll be back in a few.” He didn’t appear to hear her, but he did reach up and drag off his hat. She took it as a sign he wasn’t going to run back downstairs. She raced back to her bedroom and stood in front of her closet. Rejecting anything remotely revealing, she ended up dragging on a big, loose skirt and floppy tee shirt. When she went back out to the kitchen, Will stood next to the sink, a glass of water in his hand. Maybe the water had helped chill him because he managed a smile when she came in. “Hi,” he said. His smile quirked up. “You dressed like that on purpose?” She nodded. “No point. Doesn’t matter what you wear.” He raised the glass and drank it down. “You could wear one of those burka things and I’d still be turned on.” He drew the back of his wrist over his wet mouth and she had to look away. He set the glass firmly on the counter. “Thanks for the water and sorry to interrupt your nap and nearly knocking down your door.” “You’re going? Again?” He shrugged. “I stormed off the job. They already think I’m some sort of maniac.” As usual the image of the poor guy being afflicted at work made her want to laugh and cringe at the same time. She crossed to the window. “Looks to me like they’re done for the day anyway, Will.” He had his hard hat wedged under his arm. “I need to get home.” That wasn’t the same thing as the wave goodbye and the implication that he was walking away forever like he’d tried to do this morning. “Okay,” she said and even managed to sound cheerful. “See you.” After months of listlessness she’d regained her appetite for life and sure, the appetite was for him, but she’d made that mistake before, pushing a guy who wasn’t interested. Disappointment wasn’t going to make her into a whiner again. “I need to get home, change clothes. Take a shower.” He paused and she looked over to discover he smiled—a smirk meaning we know what that euphemism means. Hey, that had to be a good sign. The man could laugh at their predicament again. 67

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He shoved his fingers though his matted sweaty hair, pushing it back, showing the clear tan line of where the edge of his hard hat rested on his forehead. “Seriously, I need to get my act together as much as I can. But later on if it’s still okay with you. Later I think you’re right and we ought to talk some more.” She had never had the yen for sweaty guys but she had to stop herself from going over there and tasting the salt on his face, feeling the damp hair. Ew. No, actually, yum. “Maybe we should talk on the phone,” she said. She scribbled her number on one of the Hello Kitty pads her cousin’s daughter had given her, ripped off the paper. But instead of handing it to him, she put it on the counter. Safer that way. He nodded and put his hat back on and headed to the door. The door buzzer sounded. Will stepped back, startled, as if he’d made the thing go off. “Could that be your friend?” she asked. He frowned. “Oh, Greg? Naw.” The sound came again, longer and more obnoxious. She sighed and went down to answer at the front door. Dave, Dr. Marton, stood there in jeans and tee shirt. Behind him stood a stocky, prematurely gray-haired man in jeans and sports jacket. “I’m so sorry to bother you at home, Miss Harmon.” Dave might not have been wearing the regular doctor garb, but he sounded professional enough. “I hoped I might have a word with you? This is a friend of mine, Robert Durbin.” “What do you want?” Will had come down the stairs behind her, and now stepped forward into the doorway. She felt a twinge of resentment. Dave had come to see her. What gave him the right to ask questions? And the slightly belligerent air he wore—was it because Dr. Marton was gay? Will was a construction worker and she had a hazy impression they tended toward homophobia. Nice generalization on my part, she thought, but she still shot Will an annoyed glare. He didn’t notice because he was too busy facing down Dr. Marton. Dave shuffled his feet, looking slightly furtive. “I probably should have called, but we were in the neighborhood. And I hoped we might talk? Miss Harmon, I mean.” He gave Will a rueful half-grin. Aimed to him or at him, she couldn’t tell if he was sending the message of “Sorry to take up your time” or “Sorry to see you here too”. “Sure,” said Gia. “Come on up. I was about to make some coffee. So I’ll talk to you later?” she asked Will. “I could use more coffee too,” he said. “If you don’t mind, that is.” She wasn’t sure why he was barging in now when he’d been in a hurry to leave. “Fine,” she said. “This is Will Taylor,” she told the gray-haired guy. Durbin put out a hand and shook Will’s hand. He hadn’t offered to do that with her, she realized.

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They all trooped upstairs and the two new visitors took seats side by side on the couch. She’d suspected they were lovers, and the casual way their bodies touched seemed to confirm it. Will sat on the floor. Same filthy work clothes he’d worn yesterday. “So you another medical professional?” Will asked as Gia started the beans for coffee. “No. I’m a high-school English teacher.” “A teacher? Why did you tell someone unrelated to the hospital about one of your patients, Dr. Marton?” Definitely belligerent. But now she had another theory about Will’s indignation. He was being protective of her and her privacy. That was rather charming, though she couldn’t care less. Dr. Marton cleared his throat. “I-I…” “He didn’t,” Durbin said. “He talked about a woman he’d been attracted to. He mentioned some of his own issues too.” That seemed to shut Will up. Gia poured the water into the machine and walked out to join them. “Mr. Durbin, it wasn’t really me though. Did Dr. Marton tell you that?” She sat on the floor not too far away from Will. Not too close either. “It’s all to do with some guy.” Marton’s face cleared and he looked eager. “That’s what I was hoping you might say, Miss Harmon. Also, thanks to your description, we have a better take on him.” “The old bearded guy.” Durbin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. And last year that was the explanation for that sudden urge to climb trees.” Marton blushed. “Yes, yes, yes. This is important to me. You heard Dr. Campbell’s explanation and—” “Frank Campbell is a fruitcake,” Durbin said. He climbed to his feet. “Well thanks, but I think I don’t want any coffee after all, Miss, um…” “What’s your problem, Mr. Durbin?” Will interrupted. “The problem is real. I know it, lots of people do. Why do you doubt Dr. Marton?” Durbin scowled. “What do you have to do with it? Are you another one?” “Yes, I am, if you mean another one who has been affected by the old guy, apparently. I don’t remember seeing him, but I definitely have something going on.” He put down his hat again and leaned against the wall. “Climb trees?” he asked Marton, sounding amused for the first time that visit. “He thought he was a squirrel,” Durbin said. He sat back down and shook his head. “A goddamn squirrel for almost two months.” Two months? Gia felt faint. “Is that how long the effects usually last? Eight weeks?” Dave shrugged. “There is no ‘usual’ to this stuff, so I really can’t tell you, unfortunately.”

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Durbin must have seen how upset she looked. “The worst of it was over in a few days,” he said. “But the tree climbing.” He shook his head. “I take it this is the first time you’ve seen any of the guy’s victims, Mr. Durbin? I mean other than Doc Marton here?” Will definitely sounded amused now. “This is the only other time it’s affected my personal life,” Dave interrupted quickly. “I try not to bring my work home with me.” Gia betted it was because he got tired of the mockery from Durbin. Will said, “And Mr. Durbin is your partner?” Talk about straightforward. At least he didn’t sound sneering. “We’ve been together for five years.” Marton sounded desperate. “Even though he ah, doesn’t appreciate the work I’m doing at the moment.” Durbin gave a faint sniff. Gia asked, “You don’t believe the stuff about hypnosis or magic or whatever it is?” Durbin’s mouth, a straight line, went flatter and in a low cold voice he said, “I just think it’s sort of sad that he has to make up an excuse for suddenly wanting to be with a woman.” Gia was going to lose her patience so she went into the kitchen and got four cups from the cupboard. “So why are you here, Dr. Marton? What can I do?” “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. Robert was upset and I couldn’t think of what else to do.” He coughed. “And I wanted to ascertain that the…aberration wasn’t still occurring in your presence. It came and went quickly last night and hasn’t returned. That was a single, fast episode.” “So you’re not attracted to me anymore.” He nodded. Gia poured the coffee. She looked out at the three men who sat in a semi-circle, not speaking nor looking at each other. “Listen, Mr. Durbin. I saw Dr. Marton right after he, ah, realized the attraction to me and he wasn’t at all happy. He was shocked and he didn’t like it one bit,” Gia said. “Neither did I.” She wondered if it was rude to add the last bit but Marton was giving her a grateful smile, so he didn’t mind. Marton leaned forward and reached into his back pocket. “I forgot. We had this made. Does this look like him?” He handed Gia a folded paper, computer-generated picture of an old scowling man. She studied it. “Some, maybe. He had thicker brows, I think. And a red hat.” “A red hat!” Marton jumped up excited. “I remember that too. A red hat.” “Can I see that?” Will took the picture and studied it. “No. No memory of him at all. Looks like an Edgar to me.” “A what?” Marton took the picture and folded it up. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his pants. “Just looks like his name is Edgar.” 70

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Marton frowned. “You’re right. But huh. That’s kinda useless. The red hat. Now that’s a help.” He got out a cell phone and went to the far corner of the room to bellow at someone to fetch Dr. Campbell. He finished the phone call and came back to the couch. “So now that you’re done with your doctor duties, can we get going?” Marton wrapped a hand around his partner’s arm and gave a little shake. “This is important to me. Finding what’s behind this nonsense is my biggest interest.” “Yeah, I know.” His tone was definitely snarky. Marton went on. “Come on, you know I mean professional interest. Once I understand what he does to our brains, then maybe we can figure out a solution.” Gia brought out the carton of half and half and the sugar bowl and plunked them on the table, along with some spoons. She’d thought about arranging a tray but decided these guys wouldn’t notice the details. Marton still held Robert’s arm with his long pale hand. “Anyway, you can see that Gia and I are not having some sort of raging affair.” Durbin shrugged and made a noncommittal noise and reached for one of the cups of coffee. “You don’t believe him?” Will sounded disgusted. “Five years together and you still don’t trust him when he said the attraction is a weird aberration?” You go, Will, she thought. Because he wasn’t close to the table, she grabbed two cups, one for her and one for Will, and handed him his coffee. Their hands brushed and she nearly dropped the cup. That fizz of attraction. Whoa. She sank down onto the floor near him. Durbin raised his brows but didn’t ask why they were sitting on the floor. “I’m not angry. And I believe the attraction thing wasn’t real. But honestly, all this energy Dave’s burned trying to figure out the 12-D cases and no results. They don’t even have a name.” “Edgar,” Gia volunteered. “Definitely Edgar.” She smiled at Will. Durbin rolled his eyes. “So has Dave or Campbell helped you, Will?” Will shook his head then wrinkled his nose. “Just knowing it’s temporary and that I’m not alone. That helped.” Gia couldn’t help saying, “You already knew you weren’t alone.” He grinned at her, one of the full, blazing smiles that lit his face—and everything in the room. Damnation, she was not going to fall in love with him. “You’re right, of course,” he said. “Whoa.” Durbin whistled. “I think I get it. Something kinky happened to you two. Much more interesting than squirrels.”

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Gia dragged her attention away from Will. “Not really kinky,” she said, which was true. So far there had been nothing but straightforward standard man-and-woman sex. Except a vague memory of a dream of two men, of course. Durbin drank the rest of his coffee and put down the cup. “Okay, Dave. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I doubted you. It’s just that you seemed to protest too much. God, you were so upset about the whole attraction thing, I couldn’t help getting suspicious.” He rose and walked over to Gia who scrambled to her feet as he approached. “And I hope you don’t mind the two of us interrupting your life, Gia. You don’t mind if I call you that?” For the first time he met her eye. She still wasn’t convinced he was worth all the effort David put into him, but she smiled and said, “No problem.” “Just don’t go around talking about it, okay?” Will aimed a scowl at David. “That’s not real ethical, Doctor.” “I know, I shouldn’t have broken patient confidentiality.” David jumped up from the couch too. “In my twelve years as a professional, I’ve never behaved as badly as I have with Gia, and I should—” The downstairs door buzzer sounded and the three men looked at her. “I have no clue.” Gia answered the question none of them asked. “My mother’s out of town and she’s the only one who’d just stop by this time of day. I guess I’m just a popular person today. Be right back.” At the bottom of the stairs she peeked out and suppressed a groan. Mike Carter stood on her step, a bouquet of carnations in his hand. He looked exactly the way he had when she’d left him a few hours earlier, so he’d come straight from work. She opened the door. He thrust the bouquet at her. “I wanted to apologize,” he said. “May I come in?” “It’s kind of awkward at the moment.” “Just a few minutes.” He sidled past her into the foyer. The man hadn’t been this pushy back when they dated. Of course he hadn’t needed to be. She’d done the pursuing back then. “You love carnations, right? I remember you telling me that.” He beamed as if he’d just performed a clever trick. “Yes, of course,” she said and remembered telling him that even though she thought carnations looked dull, their scent was underrated. He tended to hear things a little differently than she’d said them. Like now, when she said, “It’s not a good time,” who knows what he heard, because he was climbing the stairs.

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Chapter Eight Mike stopped dead in the doorway and gave a huff of surprise, probably astonished by the presence of three men standing around her living room. Three rather attractive men, she couldn’t help thinking. Ha, ha, Mike Carter. Too bad they weren’t all naked and gazing at her with longing. That would show him. Something, anyway. “This is Mr. Carter,” she announced in her best hostess voice. Long ago her mother had forced her to go to Miss Woodley’s etiquette school and for once Gia blessed the lessons. “Mike, this is Dr. Marton, Mr. Durbin and Mr. Taylor.” “Hey, he’s wearing my tee shirt.” Mike pointed at Will, his voice loud with astonishment. Gia, still steeped in the memory of Miss Woodley’s lessons, considered scolding him for pointing. “Is this another hypnotized type?” Durbin asked, giving Mike a dubious frown. “A victim of Edgar?” “No, oh, no,” Dr. Marton said. “Maybe we should get going. We’ve taken up enough of Gia’s time.” “Who’s Edgar?” Mike turned and glared at Gia. “What the hell is going on? Who are all these people? Why’s he wearing my shirt?” Gia stepped into the apartment and closed the front door. She was tempted to keep it open and drive them all out of her apartment, but Mrs. White on the top floor could hear sounds drift up any time the door was open, and the curious old lady might be drawn by the noise to investigate. Mike was almost shouting. “Mike, you left the shirt behind when you left. For good. I even asked if you wanted it.” “I take it this is the ex?” Will said. He’d gotten to his feet and looked entirely too amused, the bastard. “I’ve seen him before.” She blushed when she realized he must have recognized Mike from the sexual dream. “If he’s an ex, why’s he back?” Durbin asked Marton. “Do you think she’s accidentally ensnaring other men? Maybe the effect is spreading?” He sounded interested, not sarcastic. At least those two weren’t fighting anymore. Marton’s brows went up and his eyes got that gleam of speculative interest he’d worn when she and Will first showed up at the hospital. “Interesting possibility. I wonder if—” he began. “I’m not ensnaring anyone.” Gia took the flowers into the kitchen and dumped them into the sink. “Don’t let me keep you, everyone. Thanks for stopping by.” 73

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“Who’s Edgar?” Mike demanded again. “One of you?” “No.” Dr. Marton came forward and reached out a hand. Mike looked at it then gave it a halfhearted shake. “I’m Dave. We’re just discussing some interesting cases I’ve had lately. I’m a doctor.” “Oh.” Mike looked relieved and even smiled. He respected professionals. It occurred to Gia that might be part of the reason why he was so annoyed about his shirt—filthy laborer Will wore it. “Are you two going out on a date?” Durbin asked. He squinted at Mike and then Will. “I hope so.” Mike grinned and winked at Gia. “No.” Gia had had enough. Durbin had given her an idea. She turned and rested her back against the counter. “Listen, Mike. This is important. You think you want me back, but there’s this thing. The hypnotism thing that we were talking about before you got here. This sort of effect that I might be having on you. When you saw me today, you thought you—” He raised his dark brows. “It didn’t just start today. I’ve thought of you a lot lately, Gia. And when I saw your name on that list of job applicants, I knew it might be my chance to make it right again.” She tried not to smile, but somehow having him crawl at her after those months of imagining that scenario felt sweet. He smiled back. “I think, yes, it was about three weeks ago, I realized I’d made a dumb mistake and let the best thing in my life get away. You, Gia. I’ve missed you for weeks.” Will leaned over to pick up the cup he’d been using. He stomped into the kitchen area and practically threw the thing into the sink. Yeah, well, he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to hang around. Gia wondered what his mini-tantrum meant. Mike moved closer to Gia, and with his chin, indicated Will. He lowered his voice. “Is he the person you’ve been sort of seeing? The one you were talking about? Is that why he’s wearing my shirt? It’s okay. I mean, I understand.” He clearly wanted brownie points because he’d forgive her for hooking up with a guy. Forget that. “It’s been six months, Mike,” she hissed. “I don’t think what I do is any of your business.” He nodded, looking hurt. “You’re right but…” He tentatively stroked her forearm with his finger. She twitched away and folded her arms over her chest. “But what?” “Let’s talk. Okay? Just talk?” Durbin and Marton were muttering to each other too. Only Will, who stood by the sink barely moving, wasn’t carrying on a private conversation. He was watching Mike. “I don’t think so. Not tonight, Mike.”

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Gia scooped up the rest of the mugs, grabbing the handles with the expertise of her stint as a waitress. Yeah, maybe she’d go back to waitressing. Better that than working near Mike. She walked to little kitchen area. Mike shoved his hands into his gray trouser pockets and stood with his legs apart. He wanted a confrontation. All those times she’d tried to get him to talk and now she just wanted him to go away. He caught her eye as she dumped the cups on the counter. But instead of saying goodbye, he walked over to the bookshelf at the back of the living area to pretend to examine the books. Gia wondered if the only way to get him to go was to physically shove him out the door. Will’s voice was soft at her ear. “Let me guess. You visited that guy earlier today?” Will leaned against the wall near her, still watching Mike. “And then you had a dream about him. You guys had a long-term relationship, huh? Kind of intense?” She rinsed out the mugs and left them in the sink. “Will, I don’t really want to talk about it with you, either. I’m sick of relationships and men.” “Not everything about men,” he said quietly. “I saw that dream.” “Oh, shut up.” She wiped her hands on a dishcloth. When she cut a look at him, he smiled at her and she couldn’t help grinning back but only for a second. He wasn’t interested in her—powerful attraction didn’t count in his book—and she wished she knew what he wanted. Other than the obvious. Marton and Durbin strolled toward the door. At least they’d gotten the hint and were leaving. Marton stopped at the sink and pressed a business card into Gia’s damp hand. “Robert says it’s fine if I give you our home and private cell numbers. Don’t hesitate to call day or night if you need help.” She’d already gotten a sort of emergency number from Dr. Campbell but she thanked him. “Call if you discover anything new or interesting about your symptoms.” He lowered his voice even though no one could hear them. “Like if your friend Mike turns out to be mistaken and was only stimulated today.” “What? You think it takes only special powers to make me attractive?” she said. “Oh no, no. Not at all.” He looked mortified, so she rolled her eyes. “Kidding.” Marton patted her shoulder. “I’ll call you if I find out anything. I promise not to stop by out of the blue again, all right?” “It’s fine,” she said. “Glad I could help.” She almost wished they weren’t leaving. The two men that would be left in her apartment had peculiar agendas—or else she had peculiar agendas with them. Try as she might to force herself to think and not feel, she couldn’t stop craving Will. Little wisps of desire flowed through her, occasionally so forceful her movements or her breath stuttered. Now she was close enough to feel the waves of something. Electricity? Scent? Magnetism? Yearning dragged her toward him.

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If she didn’t fight it, she’d look like a lunatic throwing herself on him. So Gia turned her back to Will, awareness of him prickling at her back. She held out her hand to Durbin. This time Durbin took her hand in a good firm handshake and established direct eye contact. Miss Woodley would approve. Gia decided she might like him after all. Marton and Durbin thumped down the stairs, chattering about where to get dinner, and the apartment fell silent.

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Chapter Nine Will knew he should go. He was tired, filthy, and with his defenses down he was even more prone to do something down and dirty with Gia. He had to sit on his hands when she came over and crouched near him on the floor. The instinct to reach for her, at least touch her leg, screamed through him. If those other guys hadn’t been in the room, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind he would have had her naked, or at least have hitched up that flowing skirt and the two of them would be thrashing around by now. He watched the smooth businessman who’d brought her flowers. Will remembered that he’d planned to give her something like flowers too. This was her ex, the man whose clothes she’d saved. She’d said a couple of wistful things about this Mike. Said? Hell, she’d thought things as well. That dream had been pretty clear to him, even if she couldn’t remember the details. He should leave them alone to figure it out, but damned if he could drag his exhausted body away from her. Hey, it occurred to him that really he had some reason to stick around, after all. He wasn’t ready to watch her boffing this guy, and if they started up, he’d have to witness every second of her excitement no matter where he was. No turning himself off when he didn’t like the show. Maybe he could remind her of that fact and then be on his way. He was thinking of how he could politely ask another adult not to have sex, when he noticed her tight mouth and shining, miserable eyes. “Hey, Gia, you okay?” She shrugged. “I’ll be fine. You’re right.” “I am?” “Don’t trust any choices you make when you’re under the influence of chemistry. I mean, I had a sort of chemistry before. Not sexual, exactly, but it was…” She sighed. Her other visitor turned from the bookshelf and walked toward them. She quickly turned on the sink and began rinsing things, avoiding Mike’s searching gaze. Maybe she didn’t like this guy after all. Will suddenly felt less grim. He smiled. Or maybe she was upset that Will’s presence distracted her from connecting with the true emotion of an old bond—a real one. His grin faded. “Is there anything I can do? Should I go?” She rubbed her arms as if she was cold. He wanted to feel her skin, see if it chilled his fingers. The urge to touch her had turned from a whisper into a shout. He had to concentrate on her lips to hear what she said. “Actually I wish you’d stay for a while longer, if you don’t mind.”

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“Nope, that’s fine.” It was, too. The exhaustion had vanished. He’d moved past tiredness into giddy, high-flying sensation. Desire for her filled his chest, making it hard to breathe again. “What are you two talking about?” Mike wandered near. He held up a thick paperback. “I bought this for you, remember?” She nodded. “Yeah, it’s a good story. What did you want to talk about, Mike?” “Look, I just want to talk to you. Alone. I won’t take a lot of your time, Gee, I just needed to see you again after today.” Will wondered if he could stand around and smile and pretend he didn’t hear what the guy had just said. “Maybe I should go,” he started to say but when he saw the panic on Gia’s face added, “to the bathroom. Be right back.” A little distance, maybe he could calm down enough to think. He peed, splashed cold water on his face and scrubbed at his hands some more. He looked in the cupboard, and found an extra toothbrush in an untouched package. Heck, he’d buy her a new one. Brushing took a few minutes and distracted his few brain cells that were getting enough blood to function. Flossing, why not? At last he cracked the door and listened. Their low, intense voices continued. This seemed like a good compromise, he decided. Hanging around in the vicinity but not listening to a private conversation. He considered taking a shower. He reached for the plastic bottle of green stuff and sniffed. Oh damn, he’d forgotten a simple fact. Scent was almost as good as sight when it came to rousing memories. And the simple light fragrance roused him all right. They’d been in this very bathroom when they’d first touched. Not that long ago. And he wanted her. All of her, immediately. Calm consideration had abandoned ship. His brain and body held nothing but desire. He’d be the one to let go and fly now. Gia. Get him to go away, he thought. I give up on fighting the goddamn effect you have on me. Get that man to leave and let me feel you again. She couldn’t read his thoughts but she might be able read what was happening to him at the moment. He brushed his hand over his already hard cock, lightly touching himself through the thick cloth of his jeans. Difficult to resist more and stronger touch but he just wanted to distract and summon her, not have her gasping like a landed fish. Less than a minute later there was a knock at the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she murmured. And then a little louder, in a polite hostess’s voice, “Are you okay in there, Will? Do you need anything?” “You,” he said. “Will,” she whispered. “Damn it.” He opened the door a crack, grabbed her arm and pulled her in. He slammed the door and locked it. “Do you want him? That guy out there? I won’t touch you if you do.

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I won’t,” he said even as his fingers slid over the cream-soft skin of her inner arm. “I won’t.” It was a chant. “Will. Why are you doing this now? You were ready to leave when it was just the two of us, and now he’s out there—” He put his mouth on hers to stop the voice of reason. He was too tired to fight and too much time had passed since the last time they’d touched. It was that simple. And the last time they’d been together he hadn’t gotten enough of what he needed—her, only Gia. If he didn’t touch her, he’d shatter into tiny pieces and never make it home. Later on he could be rational and reasonable. At the moment, sanity was just not in the cards. He wondered if she could feel any of that in the way he stroked her back, pulled her to him or palmed her rear. Just a few kisses and maybe he could release her to explain his actions. His mouth couldn’t be spared to speak at the moment. Too hungry for more than words. Even when he managed to drag his attention from her mouth, he was busy kissing her neck, licking the column of her throat, sinking down to pull up her shirt and discover the warm sweet flesh of her belly and breasts. So easy to shove down that skirt and the underwear and keep kissing and licking and tasting. Her fingers curled in his hair and she groaned, a thick guttural sound that echoed his need. She pulled away for a second and groped in a drawer next to the toilet. A condom waved in front of his face. Thank you, Gia. He straightened and ripped open the package. “Fast, fast,” she whispered. He stumbled as he yanked his jeans down, scraping cloth against his raging, throbbing hard-on. Should have opened the condom later, no, oh, shit, he needed it on him now. Needed her on him. Now. As he stumbled, she grabbed him and braced him against her body as he started to fall. She leaned her back on the wall holding them both up. He regained his footing—sliding along her body. “I’m not, I can’t,” he groaned and hoisted her up as she eagerly, clumsily tried to climb up his body. He couldn’t last, he meant to say, but words were gone. He was too aroused. She propped herself against the wall, groping between them for his cock, which twitched at her touch and nearly exploded as she stroked him, trying to cram him inside her body. “Can’t what?” she murmured and then “Ah,” as she sank onto him at last, all tight heat. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. He gasped,” Yes,” as he pulled her tighter against him, girded by the heat of her body and legs, a glorious weight in his arms circling him, the hot, slick sheath on him. She squirmed and rode him. He pushed her against the wall because he had to move,

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but her frantic wiggles would have been enough. Their orgasm slammed though them hot, hard and explosive. He yelled. Almost at once his knees threatened to give out and he sank slowly to the floor, clutching her and carrying her with him. He lay on his back on the cold tile floor and she lay over and on him, breathing hard and shaking. He realized she shook with laughter. “Did you just yell ‘shit’?” she whispered. “That’s not very complimentary.” “It took me by surprise.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. Cursing made sense beyond his surprise. He’d wanted it to last longer. He hated ending and leaving her. Now he’d have to allow thought and fear take over again. He ran his hands over the back of her thin, baggy tee shirt, feeling the line of her back interrupted by the thin strap of her bra. She should have been naked, skin to skin. Letting go and falling had been amazing but the climb back up… She sighed onto his neck, warm air gusting over him. “I can feel you wishing you hadn’t done that.” He didn’t answer, trying to think of a way to agree without insulting her. “No, I’m thinking how nice you feel everywhere,” he said at last. She pressed her nose to his neck and said, “I wonder if Mike left.” Another few moments passed as they listened. “I suppose I ought to go look.” She climbed off his body, leaving him chilled. He sat up feeling foolishly naked from his knees to his belly. He hadn’t even taken his boots off. She simply adjusted her clothing and left the bathroom. He quickly cleaned up and pulled on his jeans. For about a minute, he sat on the toilet trying to settle his brain. Yes, he had some thoughts again. He’d say goodbye soon—now he could function, perhaps. He’d suggest he and Mike leave at the same time. That would give poor Gia some relief from her screwed-up suitors. He walked out of the bathroom, and as he neared the living room he heard Mike saying, “I took your affection for granted and that was unforgiveable.” “No, no,” Gia said. “It’s okay. I mean, while we were together I liked that about you. You weren’t jealous and you didn’t constantly question my affection. At the end, yeah, it sucked. I thought you didn’t care, and I guess you didn’t. But the end was going to suck no matter what.” Will felt a dip in his gut. He really didn’t want to hear this kind of conversation. And how could she manage it after taking part in the earthquake in her bathroom? Women. You could probably wake them up from a coma and they’d be able to talk about relationships before they even opened their eyes. He could barely understand why he did or felt anything, even when his brain wasn’t scrambled eggs.

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But then he remembered trying to get Cammi to talk to him, to listen. Ugh. He probably sounded like this Mike character who was still speaking, earnestly trying to persuade Gia to give him another chance. Will told himself he could never have been as oblivious as Mike appeared to be. He’d known Cammi was sleeping with Pettigrew, but he wanted her so much he didn’t care or was trying not to. How come this guy didn’t smell sex on Gia? How come he didn’t wonder where she’d been for the last… He glanced down at his watch. Holy crap, that had been less than five minutes. “Whoa,” he said and Mike must have heard him because the other man fell silent midsentence. Will strolled into the room and smiled at Gia. Mike said, “Feeling better? I heard you shout a few minutes ago.” Seriously. Will tried not to laugh. How could anyone not notice Gia’s flushed face, her gloriously mussed hair? She gave a little cough and looked down at her bare feet. Her toenails were painted a pale red. Nice. He hadn’t noticed her toes before. “I’m much better.” Will walked across the room to sit cross-legged on the floor near the chair where Gia had sprawled. Some day when he came to this apartment, he’d be wearing clothes that would let him sit on the furniture. Some day when he had control over his body and his thoughts, he’d discover if she was as adorable as she seemed to be under the influence of Edgar’s screwy chemistry. Will would keep them both safe until then. The fast, few-minute fuck was not going to happen again. Or at least not yet. And also? No more berating himself or, far worse, making her feel bad. He simply wasn’t going to let anyone get any deeper. For now. Gia shifted away from him on the big green chair. “Mike, I’ll tell you what. How about I meet you for drinks or for coffee or something. On Sunday. Starbucks, okay?” She sounded tired, just at the edge of her patience. Mike must have heard her weariness at last. “Great. That’s really why I’m here. Just to arrange something, and I had a fair idea you wouldn’t talk to me on the phone.” He rose to his feet and smiled down at her. The bastard had a dimple and white, even teeth. “So Dave, it’s nice to meet you.” “Will,” Gia said. “He’s Will Taylor.” “Oh, sorry. Right, Will.” He looked Will up and down. “Can I offer you a ride?” “Yeah. Thanks, I’d appreciate it.” Mike looked startled at being taken up on his offer. He went to Gia and leaned down, the blue-and-black tie dangled over her as he gave her a kiss goodbye on the mouth. She didn’t pull away very fast. Will wasn’t going to risk a kiss so he reached for her foot and squeezed her chilly big toe goodbye. He held on a moment too long and lust stirred, urging him to put his

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mouth on her foot, suck on her toes, rub his face over her arch, kiss his way up her calf… “Bye,” she said and yanked her foot back so she could hop up and lead them to the door. He smiled. “Bye.” He pushed his hand into his pocket and felt the Hello Kitty paper with her phone number.

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Chapter Ten Mike, Gia’s-ex, led the way down the stairs. He looked like the sort who had a nice car. At least Will would get to leave a patch of dirty grease on the seat. But he couldn’t even indulge in that bit of childishness because the Toyota waiting at the curb wasn’t so nice, and then Mike handed him some newspapers. “Can you put those down before you take a seat?” “Sure.” He gave Mike his address and the man raised one dark eyebrow. “Nice neighborhood,” he said, but Will didn’t explain how he managed to afford an address there. He didn’t mention that he lived in a small apartment over a garage in exchange for work around his landlady’s house and yard. He’d lived there since high school. It was a good home and refuge. For a little while he’d shared the place with Manda. “So you’ve known Gia a long time?” Mike asked as he pulled into traffic. “I don’t remember her mentioning anyone named Will.” “Nope, not long at all.” Will yawned. “How’d you meet?” Will jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Back there.” The eyebrow went up. “Excuse me?” “I work at the construction site near her building. We met there.” “Oh my.” Mike sounded as intrigued and disgusted as a little old lady. “So you ah, just introduced yourself?” “Something like. How about you? How’d you meet her?” “We were introduced by friends more than two years ago. Almost three years, come to think of it.” He carefully switched on his blinker and checked his rearview mirror a few times before changing lanes. A cautious driver. He really was like a little old lady. “So what was all that about hypnosis and Edgar? I mean, you seemed to know those doctors.” “You should ask Gia.” “I’m asking you.” “Yeah, you are.” Will wanted to smile. Though he’d dearly love to fight with this idiot, he wasn’t going to get into it. “But if you want to know about Gia, you should ask Gia.” He didn’t speak and Will thought that was it for conversational attempts until the guy asked, “Did you sleep with her?” 83

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“Is that any of your business?” “I expect that means you didn’t,” Mike said happily. Will shrugged. “Guess not.” Now they rode in silence and Will almost dozed off. “This it?” Carter peered out at the rambling, badly-lit house. Will wanted to put up better outside lights but Ms. Riddell hated wasting electricity. “Yup, thanks.” He got out of the car and folded up the newspaper he’d been sitting on. He tried to give it back to Mike who waved a frantic hand in dismay. “You take that with you.” “Nice to meet you.” Will wished he could warn this guy off Gia, wished he’d earned the right. Instead he leaned into the car window and leered. Unshaven and dirty—definitely skuzzy—Will hoped he looked dangerous too. He should have told Mike about boinking Gia. Picture it, boyo. Me with Gia. He ambled away from the car, wondering why Mike bugged the shit out of him. Pure jealousy, he supposed. Just like he’d felt about Marton at first at the hospital. But this guy struck him as a far bigger horse’s ass. Maybe because Carter had dumped Gia. What a jerk. The Toyota made a careful U-turn and drove off. Will considered checking in with Ms. Riddell. His landlady never pried, didn’t ask where he’d been when he stayed out all night and never mentioned the women he used to bring home. But she did tend to fuss if she didn’t see him for a day or two—left over from the old days when she had unofficially adopted him. And he missed her. Tomorrow he thought, and headed toward the bliss of shower and sleep.

***** Once she was alone, Gia cleaned the apartment but still had too much energy. Too restless. She longed to get away, hop on a plane and fly off to some exotic island. Maybe she could join her mother and stepfather, interrupt their anniversary trip to sponge off them for a while and lie in the sun at their vacation resort. They’d let her too. They’d be gracious and pleasant and never show how annoyed they were. That’s why she could never do it. What if she dragged along Will? He’d look great wearing nothing but baggy shorts, lying in the shade of a palm tree. Forget the shorts, she decided. Since it was all fantasy, she wouldn’t bother putting either of them in clothes. Soft breezes, the kind you can only feel in the tropics, would caress their skin and his wheat hair would probably curl in the humid air.

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She remembered her resolution to go to a bar and called Sooz. They met at a reasonably quiet bar just around the corner from her apartment. About ten minutes into their first Cosmopolitan, Gia remembered why she didn’t like to meet Sooz out in public. She was a good person, but sparkling, happy Sooz had a form of Attention Deficit Disorder. If a television was on, she watched it. If men walked around, Sooz watched them—making it hard for them not to watch back. She didn’t do eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. It was hard to hold a conversation with someone who seemed to focus on everything in the room but you. And caught by those lovely eyes, men tended to wander over to introduce themselves. Despite appearances, Sooz listened well. “No, really, you’ve had a wild coupla days, Gia. Wow,” Sooz said. The bangles up and down her arm jangled as she turned to wave goodbye to the young lawyer who claimed he was sure he “knew her from somewhere”. She twisted back to Gia long enough to gaze into her eyes. “And going to the hospital. That’s serious.” Gia sipped the sweet, pungent drink. “Yeah, and the doctors couldn’t help us.” Sooz focused on her face for a split-second, a worried pucker between her brows. “So what can you do? I mean this Will guy sounds like a drip.” “Does he?” Gia wondered if she agreed. Sooz tossed back her thousand tiny braids. “Sure. He has a mind-blowing, fabulous time in the sack with you and he still runs away? What’s that about?” “I don’t know if I blame him for wanting to take off. It’s really scary, Sooz. Mindblowing is the word. That’s why we went to the hospital.” “You didn’t get scared.” Gia was about to answer that feeling totally alive for the first time compensated for the utter fear, but Sooz’s gaze and attention had drifted again. She smiled at the man at the far end of the bar who got up and walked toward them. Gia decided not to talk about her spooky sex life while strange men flitted in and out of listening range. But Sooz didn’t hold back. “At least you’re over that dolt Mike.” She held up her glass. “Come on, drink to that. We’re definitely celebrating that. The end of Mike Carter LOHL.” Gia dutifully clinked her glass. The man from the corner stood by them now. He wore jeans, a Gnarls Barkley tee shirt and work boots. Slightly dressed down for this place, but Gia didn’t hold it against him. She’d developed a taste for underdressed men. He had a reasonable smile as he said hello and introduced himself as Phil. He wasn’t pushy either as he asked if he could buy them a drink. Buxom Sooz, who rarely had to buy any of her own drinks, let him buy a round. “That’s it for me, though.” Gia put her hand over her glass. “I don’t need anything more.” “I thought I heard you were celebrating,” Phil said. “She’s dumped her worthless boyfriend,” Sooz announced. 85

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“Really? Good for you,” he said. “Good to know that the worthless ones aren’t always winners.” He sounded playful, not bitter, and the man wasn’t bad-looking—even if he did have a soul patch. Weren’t those little chin patches passé yet? His spaniel eyes reminded her of Mike a little. As they drank she was startled to notice he watched her even more than he watched her friend. He turned away to talk to the bartender and Sooz shoved an elbow in her ribs. “He’s delicious,” she said in a low voice. “Go for it, sweetie.” Gia studied Phil’s broad back and wondered Why not? For the first time in her life, she wanted to play. She wanted life and joy and sex, and if Will wouldn’t give it to her, well… She’d already announced she’d go out and find it. Phil turned around and grinned at her. Nice enough smile, but no lines around his eyes. He wasn’t quite right. Not that she needed a soul mate anymore, she reminded herself. She was past that. Someday soon, she’d play, but not yet. For one thing, she wasn’t sure she could stand knowing anything that produced certain…responses might have an unwilling ghostly voyeur. Will’s pale, stern eyes watching her naked in someone else’s arms. Now that was a buzz-kill. “So, Gia.” Phil tossed back a few wasabi peas and made a funny face as the spice hit home. She liked him. “Can I help you celebrate?” “Thanks, but I’m done for the moment. I’m tired.” She wasn’t but she suddenly wanted to be alone. Sooz looked disappointed, so she added, “You and Phil have a good time. We talked about going out dancing, remember?” Sooz hugged Gia and whispered, “Isn’t he just what the doctor ordered? I mean it. You can have this one and I’ll head out—maybe I can invent some late night phone calls I gotta make. Seriously, you need some fun now that you know how to find it.” “Later,” Gia promised. “You go dance the night away. I will too, eventually.” Her restlessness required some action but she went home anyway. Jogging in the middle of the night wasn’t a great plan, so she tried to read a book. She played on the internet. She Googled Will. She found what might have been his address, in a nice part of town—not too far from her mom’s house. No, this wasn’t healthy. Neither was lying in bed trying not to recall the ways he touched her, wondering if he lay in his bed thinking about her. She held her breath, trying to catch tendrils of sensation that might be his lust. Nothing and she felt lonely with nothing but her own thoughts. She turned over in the bed and stared up at the glow of headlights of a passing car slipping across her ceiling. He’d come to her house twice, after all. She might just stop by in the morning. Just to say hello.

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The next morning, she frowned at her closet. She could wear something flirty and provocative, but he’d probably give her that startled defensive look. So nothing cute. It was only a couple of miles, so she decided to jog it. That way she wouldn’t look as if she wanted to seduce him. Sweaty might be hot, literally, but it wasn’t exactly come-andget-me hot. She amended that when she remembered him at her door right after work, sweaty and dusty and utterly desirable. The house was a big, wooden Victorian thing, with gingerbread and a turret. It even had an arched portico so the horses wouldn’t have to stand in the rain while unloading passengers. This was way fancier than she’d expected. The house was a quiet tan with a freshly painted, green front door. She knocked on it. An old lady peered out at her. Looking back, Gia got the impression of a dandelion going to seed. The old lady was in a yellow-striped housecoat and she had yellowing hair with white roots. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Will Taylor and I thought this was his address.” “Not here.” The woman opened the door. She waved a thin hand toward the side of the house. “He’s in the garage. But come in. I’m making coffee.” “The garage?” Gia walked into a gloomy front hall. The whole place smelled slightly fuggish, like a room that had been shut off for a long time. There was an undercurrent of ancient bacon and expensive incense. The furniture was old but not as old as the house, although maybe the ornate sideboard she glimpsed in the dining room was ancient. Big and mahogany fit this place—dark, slightly menacing and sort of silly furniture. The lady led her through a dark wood paneled hall into a sudden blaze of sunlight. Unlike the rest of the house this room felt open and airy with big unadorned windows. The kitchen had polished wood countertops and a light pine floor. “Wow,” said Gia. The old lady pushed her hands in the side pockets of the housecoat. “Yeah, a lot of people like this kitchen.” She sounded perplexed as if she wondered why people had such strange taste. “I’m not sure it fits my house, but what do I know? There was a fire so we had to put in something new. Will helped rebuild it, you know.” The lady pulled out a rumpled pack of Marlboros, looked at it wistfully and shoved it back, deep into her pocket. “He’s your, um…” Gia trailed off. Son, grandson. Either one seemed like an unsafe guess. “I was his science teacher.” The lady trailed over to a glass cupboard and grabbed two elegant porcelain coffee cups then plunked them on the counter. “Back when I was everyone’s science teacher. He came to do some odd jobs for me when he was a kid and never really left. Well, there were a few years when he took off. But this has been his home. The garage. Damned fool lets me rattle around this huge place while he jams himself into a little apartment. I wouldn’t want to live with me either, but he doesn’t

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have to be so obvious about it.” She gave a tiny snort. “So who did you say you were? Not a stalker, I hope.” She pushed a cup and saucer in front of each of them. Gia started when she realized she hadn’t bothered with the basic greeting. Woodley’s etiquette school manners had abandoned her but she summoned them back. “Do forgive me,” Gia said and introduced herself. “Haven’t had a girl come to the front door looking for him for years,” said the old lady who still hadn’t shared her name. She carefully pulled herself onto one of the kitchen stools and impatiently twitched her hand at the other. Gia obediently sat. “There was Manda, of course.” The lady eyed Gia as if this name should mean something. Gia reached for the coffee and took a sip. Weak to the point of tasteless. “But she’s not there now,” she said with confidence. Whoever Manda was, Gia would know if Will lived with a woman. “Left when she married Greg, of course. I can’t have three of them in that place.” Gia could fill in some cracks. “And now Greg is Will’s boss.” “Is he working for him again? What do you know. He doesn’t tell me about the day-to-day stuff. I do not pry.” But she obviously loved it when a part of Will’s life accidentally rang the wrong door bell. Halfway through Gia’s next sip of bad coffee, something inside her woke, unfurled and grew heavy, the almost familiar craving. She suspected Will was having a good dream or maybe was waking up happy. Now that she understood the connection, she didn’t drop her cup or give a startled yelp. She even managed to smile and pretend to drink coffee. Settle down, Will. He didn’t. Her own image came to her, naked and joyous. Gia blinked and drew in a long slow breath. Damn, she wished she was somewhere she could enjoy this—like in the garage. “You look like the cat that ate the canary,” the old lady said. “Remember something good?” “I really should stop bothering you and go see if Will’s awake yet.” “Oh, he’s awake all right. That boy rises with the dawn.” Yeah, he rose, all right. Gia checked her watch—almost nine a.m. She’d bet he was not entirely awake because she didn’t imagine he’d doing be this on purpose. He’d know it would affect her. Or maybe he was trying to summon her in reality as well his imagination. The sensation strengthened, tingled through Gia then suddenly died away. Her image vanished, too, and now she only saw the kitchen and the old lady in front of her. “I think,” she said slowly, “he slept in late this morning. But he’s probably awake now.” “Eh? You think that? How’d you know that?” The old lady squinted at her. The lines in her face deepened. “Who’d you say you were again? A friend of his?” “We’ve grown close over the last few days.”

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The lady carefully placed her hands against the counter and pushed herself up and off the stool. “Well, I don’t like to disturb him. I don’t know about letting you go over there on your own.” Gia didn’t point out the obvious—that big strapping Will wouldn’t need this old lady’s help defending himself against an unwanted visitor. She wondered if the exscience teacher was protective or nosy. Both, likely. The lady walked surprisingly quickly out the front door along a gravel path to a garden. Gia followed. Will’s landlady spoke over her shoulder as she walked. “Garage used to be a stable, I think. Don’t really concern myself with outbuildings. Got enough to do keeping up with the house.” She went up the steep stairs and banged on the doorframe. From inside Gia heard something like, “All right, Mizzar.” He knew who was outside his door. Gia supposed that abrupt banging was this lady’s usual style. The door creaked open and there stood Will, dressed only in a pair of jeans. His rumpled hair and pink cheeks confirmed two things she’d suspected. He’d been asleep and he was prone to erotic dreams these days too. “Gia.” He stepped back and his eyes widened. He backed up enough so they could enter, and Gia followed the old woman into a slightly messy but fairly clean apartment. “Good, you know her,” the lady said. “Can she come in? Me too? About time for my annual visit.” He didn’t look at the old lady. Mizzar, Gia thought. Miss R? Ms. R? He only stared at Gia as if he had conjured her and wasn’t sure what happened next. “Um, maybe later, Mizzar,” he said. “Thanks for showing her the way.” The old lady’s eyes brightened. “Okay,” she said. “That’s interesting. Nice to meet you, Gia.” She laughed and quietly closed the door behind her. “She’s not upset,” Gia said. Not like you, she thought. “She thinks we’re involved.” “I like her,” Gia said. For the first time his mouth relaxed. “You do? She drives a lot of people crazy.” “Did Manda like her?” she tried. “Sure.” He didn’t seem surprised that she knew the name. He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Want to sit down?” Much of the furniture obviously came from the house and was too big and hulking for the small apartment—rather like Will. She wandered the apartment and found his bedroom. She sat on the bed, which felt warm. He’d probably been lying on it when they knocked.

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“What are you doing here?” he asked. He picked up a red tee shirt from the bureau and jammed it over his head. “You’re unhappy to see me?” His one shoulder shrug reminded her of Mike and she felt a twinge of unease. Gia scooted farther onto the bed and leaned against the wall, watching him. “I had trouble staying away,” she said softly. As in, it felt impossible. He abruptly turned away and grabbed a pair of boots. She liked the sliver of pale skin that showed between his shirt and jeans as he leaned over. Not a plumber’s crack, something infinitely sexier. And the jeans hugged his butt nicely. “We’d better go out,” he said as he rummaged through an elaborately carved chest. He grabbed socks and disappeared back to the main room. She ran her hand over the sheets, feeling the warmth left from his body and then the chill of the rest of the sheet. She leaned down, pressed her face to his pillow and drew in a deep breath. A tiny taste of him made her belly flutter. Mm, she bet he could sense her quirk of excitement and the backs of her legs felt hot. “Yeah,” she called. “Maybe we could go on a date this time.” He laughed and reappeared in the doorway, unlaced boots on his feet. “Or we could go to the hospital again.” “No. Out for coffee. My treat.” “You’re unemployed. I’ll buy.” They could argue about the bill later. They had to leave, soon. His eyes on her, compelling, light eyes that hypnotized her. Begging her. All it would take was a single sigh, a quick lick of her lips and they’d crash together, fall on the bed, fuck like rabid bunnies. Lovely, except then his eyes would hold that cold anger—not directed at her, but she didn’t want to be the cause of it. “Coffee,” she croaked and scooted off the bed. How’d she get in his bedroom anyway? Uninvited. This would be okay if they made it out the door.

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Chapter Eleven Gia was determined that they talk like real people. She pondered topics as she walked down the stairs. Maybe she could find out about Manda and Mizzar. Why he’d lived in that small apartment so long. Family. Yeah, talking about people would work. And what did he want from his life? Besides getting rid of the curse that she thought of as the Edgar effect. What did he want from a girlfriend? No. Not that one. Nothing that involved sex. Favorite sports or books. “You’re lost in thought and all I know is it’s not about anything I can, uh, feel,” he said. “Nope, not about sex,” she agreed. “Just trying to remember what regular people do when they go out on a date. What they talk about.” He laughed again. “Been a long time has it?” “I wasn’t a pro in my best days and you present an unusual challenge.” “Really? You think you’re awkward on dates?” “Isn’t everyone?” He shook his head. “It wasn’t such a big deal to me. If you care too much about the outcome, that’s when it can get bad. But just going into a date looking for fun? No big deal.” “Now I’m the one who’s convinced it can be no biggie and still fun. I think we’ve switched roles, again,” she said. She touched his arm and felt the amazing zing of contact. Mistake. She fell back a bit so they didn’t walk side by side. The nearest coffee shop was a mile away and they’d cover it with at a good swift pace. No more touching. They could do this. “So who’s Manda?” Gia asked. “I mean other than Greg’s wife.” “My sister.” He slowed and looked at her with surprise. “Didn’t you know?” “Why would I know? I don’t know much about you, Will Taylor. You live in your old science teacher’s garage. I don’t even know her name. She didn’t tell me.” “Ms. Riddell. A good teacher, pain-in-the-ass landlady,” he said. “Saved my life.” She laughed but stopped when he didn’t join her. His only response was a closedmouth smile. “Seriously?” she asked. “Maybe, who knows. Gave me a place to stay when I got kicked out. And let Manda move in when she got booted too.” “Your parents?”

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“Just Dad. Mom left when we were little. He was clueless, poor guy. Didn’t know how to deal with a rebellious son except with basic training methods from his army days. I didn’t respond well. We had to part ways or one of us would end up dead or in jail.” “I’m sorry.” “It was a long time ago. And I’m only telling you because that’s what we regular people do on dates. Exchange life stories.” “You tell all the women you date about your life?” “Sure. I tell them all about Mom and then the women I hit on feel sorry for me. They want to go straight to bed with me to help heal my wounds.” “Oh.” He laughed. “I’m kidding. No, I don’t tell all my dates that. I tell ’em how they have expressive eyes.” He waggled his eyebrows. She snickered. No doubt about it, he knew how to charm women—or at least, her. Gia almost wished they could keep walking, just walk in a big circle back to his apartment into his bed, but he held open the door to a small café that featured paintings of belly dancers on all the walls. Odd choice, since the menu was standard upscale coffee-shop scones, muffins and tiny tarts. At least the music—middle-Eastern for belly dancing of course—was set at low volume. The place served espresso and fancy little pastries. “No donuts,” he muttered as he pulled out a worn leather wallet. “That’s what you’re supposed to eat with coffee.” “You don’t expect donuts in this part of town do you?” He jerked a thumb at the door. “There’s a Dunkin’ Donuts in the next block, but you seem to fit this place better. More exotic.” “I like donuts too,” she said. “I’m not exotic.” They placed their orders. He sat down across from her at the little table and folded his arms over his chest. “Okay, if you’re not exotic, what are you? Your turn.” “To talk you mean?” He nodded. “I don’t think your turn is over. All I learned is that you seem to have a complex relationship with your ex-teacher landlady.” He grinned, showing his teeth and those lovely lines and she swore the room looked brighter. And that tiny tingle might have been the start of a swoon. His effect on her had shifted or grown from their strange connection into full-blown crush and she hadn’t had one of those since she was about fifteen years old. That was the year she fell hard for the cleaning lady’s son. Gia had to leave the house if Jackson came over with his mother because she was so afraid she’d embarrass herself and actually talk to him. Will’s smile faded but didn’t go away entirely. “You really shouldn’t look at me like that,” he said. “Not in public.”

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“Like what?” He looked down at the cranberry scone and broke off a piece. After he washed the bite down with a swallow of coffee he said, “So you grew up in New York. The city?” “The real deal. Manhattan.” “What did your family do?” “Lawyers,” she said. “Both of them. I’m an only child and terribly spoiled. I didn’t know how to entertain myself.” He took another bite. “The New Yorkers I’ve met are fast-paced people.” “Yup. I was booked for every hour of every day. But that was okay because I wanted to do it all, be it all. Until later, when it got to be too much.” She stopped, caught by how those words barely reflected what had felt like the collapse of her whole life. That year in college when she suddenly understood she’d never live up to her parents’ expectations. The failure of her dreams, she’d thought at the time. She reached for the espresso and took a big swallow. “Go on.” Will had put down the scone. He watched her. The interest in his eyes might have reflected their state of perpetual arousal or maybe he was listening. “I stopped trying so hard. No more overachiever. It helped that my parents split so they weren’t a pushy team together.” “The divorce was a good thing?” he asked and went back to eating. “Yeah. Felt rotten at the time when they split up. But yeah, a good thing for them.” “And I guess your mom agreed with you about pushing too hard.” She laughed. “What makes you say that?” “She lives around here, right? So she left New York. And she stopped pushing so hard. Maybe you showed her how.” “I don’t know. She was disappointed with my choices at first,” Gia said slowly. But later on? Maybe her mother had changed. It hadn’t occurred to Gia that when she sloughed off all those expectations, her mother might eventually come to see it as a good example. They’d never sat down and talked—her family wasn’t into exploring that sort of thing. Funny that Will was. Practical, straightforward, he didn’t seem afraid of strong emotion. Not other people’s, at any rate. She was about to say something when she spotted something outside that made her insides freeze. A short squat figure in a heavy coat and red knit cap stood on the corner, glaring around. “God, I think it’s him,” she said and stared out the window, wondering if she was hallucinating. “Who? Gia, are you okay? You’re really pale.” She pointed. Will twisted and squinted over his shoulder. “What are you talking about? I just see some— Oh, hell. Now I can see that red hat. Do you think it’s him? The old guy?”

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“Maybe,” she whispered as if Edgar could hear though the glass and wood. “It could be.” Will pushed back his chair. “I’ll be right back.” “No,” she said. “That’s a terrible idea. Hey, Will, no!” But Will had gone out the door leaving the little bells chiming. She stood and watched out the window, uncertain if she should go out and try to interfere. The old man’s head jerked up when Will came near. Gia studied the face. Could it be the guy they called Edgar? Will had buried his hands in his jeans pockets, probably trying not to look aggressive. That was good, she hoped. The man stared, but didn’t look unhappy or angry. At last Will stopped talking and waited. The other man walked away as if he’d said nothing. Will slowly reentered the shop. He yanked back the chair and sat down. After a second, he grinned at her. “Well, if that’s our guy, he doesn’t look like he could harm a fly. And damn, I felt stupid going up to him, asking if we could talk. That’s as far as we got.” “Did he say anything?” “He muttered something like ‘silence for hours’, but I’m not sure. He was just mumbling and he took off. Very weird guy. I don’t know…” His voice trailed off. His eyes opened wide. “Uh oh,” she whispered. “What’s wrong?” He pointed to his throat and buried his face in his hands. “You can’t talk?” From between his hands, he nodded. “Oh God, anything else?” She pushed back her chair so hard it squealed on the tiled floor. Other patrons looked over at them. Hands on the tablecloth she leaned closer to examine him. “Is that it? Is anything else wrong with you?” His broad fingers drummed the table as he stared at the wall, frowning. At last he shrugged and shook his head. “What do you want to do?” He made the sign for writing and tilted his head questioningly. She rummaged through her small backpack and found the little notebook and pen she used for lists. As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed and she was annoyed to feel that thrum of her awareness and his heat, even during what felt like an emergency. He wrote, I’ll go home. Wait might be only hours—said hours. “I hope so,” she said. “Not the hospital? I’d drive you.” He shook his head, hard. He slowly got to his feet and tucked her little book into his back pocket. They left the café, walking in silence stirred only by their feet crunching through a carpet of dried autumn leaves.

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“I’m coming with you,” she announced. “All right?” His nod came after a moment, as if he was reluctant to say yes. “Hey, you shouldn’t be alone,” she argued. He smiled for the first time and raised his eyebrows. Cocky devil obviously thought she was trying to justify being with him. She ignored the look and said, “I think we should call the hospital, tell them Edgar’s around here.” He nodded more eagerly this time, stopped, pulled a phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. He managed to convey that he thought it was an emergency. He turned her to face him then laced her wrists with his fingers. Oh, handcuffs. “But I don’t think we need 9-1-1. I’ll have to look up Dave’s number.” She held the phone in her palm. “Can you imagine what would happen to the officers who tried to arrest that man? And on what charge? Voodoo.” He winced and gave a large nearly silent sigh. Even the breath coming from him had no volume, as if all the sounds he made were gone, not only his words. “I’d feel more sorry for you if you hadn’t rushed out there to accost him.” He narrowed his eyes and gave her a dirty look. Even without sound, Will easily made himself understood. He pulled out the little notebook. She looked at his blunt fingers clutching her little purple pencil. He held it hard, as if it might try to get away. He held up the book. Wasn’t rude, he’d written. Don’t know Y hell he did it. “Because he can, I expect,” she said. He scribbled some more. Why isn’t everyone under spells? “Well. This town does have a reputation for oddballs.” He flashed her a skeptical look, one eyebrow slightly raised. Gia said, “When we were at the hospital and we didn’t see crowds of victims, I wondered about that. Dave explained their current theory—that only a small part of the population can be affected by the man. A lot of people don’t even see him. That’s why tracing him is so hard. If the cops ask twelve people standing around outside if they saw a scruffy guy with a bushy beard, eleven of them will say no, they hadn’t seen anyone like that. The twelfth person will say I saw him five minutes ago right in front of us.” Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah, lucky us. Dave said the man who does this always seems to be bad tempered and they suspect if he had his way, everyone in the world would be climbing trees or having waking nightmares or barking like seals. I can’t remember a lot of the other stuff he described because I was feeling pretty traumatized that night. Except I can tell you this, compared to what Edgar does to a lot of the people who annoy him, not having a voice is pretty good, comparatively speaking.”

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She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to judge the effect of her words as she added, “And actually, what we have together isn’t all bad, if you ask me, which of course you didn’t.” He widened his eyes and pointed at his throat. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. “I wonder if he does good things to people who are nice to him. I doubt it. I bet he doesn’t even notice them.” He tucked away the notebook and they kept walking. “So I can’t understand why you went out there,” she said. Will shrugged. With his shoulders hunched and a scowl on his face, he looked defensive and vulnerable at the same time. This probably was what he looked like as an angry teenager. As they walked, she didn’t worry about the new curse or the strange old man who’d done it, she thought about Will. Had he run away or been cast out by his father? That line he threw out about his dates wanting him because they felt sorry for him— seemed to be true for her. She wanted to kiss him until the spark of angry confusion was replaced by another spark. On the other hand she’d found him attractive when he’d seemed to be a self-confident man. She had no idea what was real about her attraction to Will Taylor. “Damn you, Edgar,” she said. The second they walked through the apartment door he took a business card from under a magnet on the fridge and handed it to her. Dr. Campbell’s number. He handed her the card and his cell phone. She punched in the numbers. “Campbell should be able to help,” she said, watching Will as the phone rang. He lurked near her but didn’t come close enough to touch. She took pity on him. “Does this have speaker phone? So you can hear?” He shook his head. “You’ll just have to come closer. Lean in to hear,” she said and her heart thumped harder as she imagined his breath on her cheek as his temple pressed to hers. He shook his head and made the circle and thumb okay sign. He was saying he trusted her, she supposed—or maybe he was just avoiding physical contact with her. “Coward,” she said. He grinned for the first time since he’d stormed out of the café after the old guy. One of Campbell’s assistants answered and it took a few minutes to track the doctor down. When he heard that the man had been spotted, Campbell, out of breath from running to the phone, was annoyed they hadn’t called at once. “It didn’t seem like an emergency,” Gia explained. The doctor’s answer was brusque. “It is. No one’s ever had such an immediate response like Taylor’s and this confirms it at last. The old man is the one we’re looking for.” Campbell demanded the details about where the man had been seen and in which

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direction he’d wandered off. Campbell barked, “Just a sec,” and she heard him shout out the directions to someone in the room. “Right, we’re going to get this done at last.” “Wait. What about Will? He can’t talk. Not even a little bit.” She described what had happened to him. “You’re telling me he went right up to the guy? What is the man, nuts? Stupid?” Campbell sounded more like the excitable Marton than the staid doctor he’d been the last time she’d met him. “Um, yeah, I’d guess either makes sense. Will’s either stupid or crazy,” she said. Will gave her a narrow-eyed glare. The doctor apparently calmed down enough to chat. “The mistake he made was to look the man in the eye. From what we can figure out, eye contact’s important. I’ll get back to you as soon as we can. I’d like to ask Taylor some questions. Find out if we can we contact him via IM or email. So he won’t need to talk.” She covered the mouthpiece and asked Will, “Do you have a computer?” He pointed to an old desktop computer and shook his head. “I think either his computer is broken or it’s not on the internet.” Will held up one finger. “Broken,” she said, but Campbell was talking to someone else. After some muffled conversation, he came back on the line. “We’ll call back in an hour or so. You stay there so we can arrange something. I expect we ought to take a look at him. See if there’s any physical sign of damage. You can tell him that there never is with 12-Ds. At least not so far.” “Shouldn’t he come into the hospital or your office? Do something?” “If you want to take him to the emergency room, sure. But as long as he doesn’t have any strange urges, he’s safe. I’m telling you, the old guy doesn’t cause actual damage. The only trouble comes when victims harm themselves.” He paused for a moment. “Trying to climb things they shouldn’t and so on. Doesn’t sound to me like Mr. Taylor has any delusional symptoms.” She looked over at him. “No, I think he’s okay except for the lack of voice.” “Good. We’d appreciate it if he’d come in for a thorough examine eventually, just for the records. But at the moment, we’re about to take off looking for the guy. Taylor would just have to wait around.” Someone in the background shouted something. “I’ll call him. Make sure someone can answer the phone.” The doctor hung up.

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Chapter Twelve Will hated feeling helpless. At the moment he disliked that even more than knowing he’d behaved like an idiot by talking to the old guy. But really, all he’d done was look at the guy and speak in a perfectly friendly voice. “Hey, excuse me. I need to talk to you for a minute. I wonder if there’s anything—” That’s when the old guy’s eyes went glittery and angry. “No. You’re not talking. Not for hours.” He’d turned and walked away. And that was that. Less than five minutes later, Will was mute. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and wished Gia would go away. He wished she’d keep talking about her life. He wished she’d take off her clothes and jump him. After all, if he was going to be helpless, stupid and silenced, someone ought to have her way with him. He wished she’d laugh again. She had a wonderful laugh, deep and surprised as if shocked to find herself amused. She handed him his phone then sat down on the couch. “He’s not particularly worried about you. Maybe if you thought you were a dog and insisting on chasing cars, he’d be more concerned.” Will chuckled, silently. Sure felt like a real laugh, except with no noise, not even a gasp of air. Strangest thing he’d ever felt. No, second strangest thing—and the first might have been more frightening but it was a hell of a lot more fun. Gia had been right about that. Even at its most frighteningly potent, what went on between them had an element of something awfully wonderful. Awfully. “Campbell did say he wants to take a look at you. And they’ll call you back.” He wondered if he really had to drag his ass back to the hospital to have more wires attached and needles poked into him. If it helped with the research, maybe he’d suck it up and not whine. Hell, at the moment he couldn’t whine anyway. He pulled out the little notebook and handed it back to her. Such a funny little purple thing, more feminine than most of the objects he associated with her. Will went to the recycling pile and found a bigger piece of paper. He wrote, I’ll get Ms R to answ. the phone. You can go. Thanx. She shook her head and didn’t say anything—as if she was the one without a voice. He tapped the pencil on his knee. Well, damn. Gia he wrote. The first time he’d written her name. You ok? She nodded. If you’re sticking around, tell me more about you. Go on. I won’t interrupt. She laughed, just like he’d hoped she would. She ran her fingers through her hair and gave a thoughtful squint before saying, “Okay, the basics. I’m an Aries. I never had 98

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to wear braces. I don’t have any major allergies. I’ll eat anything but liver and onion. More?” He nodded. “I was a history major in college because I had a crush on a graduate student. He turned out to be a real winner. The guy had two wives in two different states. I liked history, though. And really, it sort of turned me into a designer.” He raised his eyebrows and she apparently understood he meant explain that one. “Well, I saw this engraving from the 1800s, a picture of an art gallery, and the walls of the place were just plastered with paintings. No space around any of them. I got to noticing how every era has a different standard for what’s a beautiful interior. And I started trying to figure out which period of time fit my friends, which era they’d be comfortable in. And then it changed into learning what kind of space people like. See? That’s sort of about history.” He nodded. He’d wanted something more personal, but this was okay, even interesting. He wrote Family? “I’m an only child. I told you, divorced parents who weren’t particularly happy people. They’re better now. I’d like to blame my parents for all my problems but that’s boring.” He made a circle with his hand. Go on. “Jeez, what are you, some sort of therapist?” He raised his brows and motioned with his hand again. “Let me guess, you want more about my parents and our terrible problems, or maybe my miserable childhood as an only child. Sorry, can’t blame them for anything interesting or serious.” She grinned. “The whole driving ourselves, trying-too-hard-tobe-perfect thing we were into actually had some positive effects because I know about self-discipline even if I sometimes ignore what I know. And I sure don’t blame my parents for the fact that I’m sexually inhibited. Or I was.” Inhibited? The sensual, outrageously receptive Gia? He examined her, trying to see the joke, but she gazed back without so much as twitching a muscle. Don’t play poker with this woman, he told himself. She shook her head. “I can see you’re laughing at me. No, before you, that’s exactly what I was, although, okay, perhaps inhibited is the wrong word. More like selfconscious and never able to let go. No going wild for me.” Wild was the word he’d use for her. The delicious, howling, hot sex was wild. She still sat near him and played with a tendril of her hair winding around her finger. “I would worry are my breasts too small, is this the way I’m supposed to touch him. And then there’d be the annoying factor. Like did he have to lick that same spot behind my ear every time? I never got carried away or forgot myself. Not until you.” “Hey,” she said softly. He looked at her. Did she expect him to answer? No, not with words. Her eyes and mouth were an invitation though. “I wish you could talk but

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really, even when you’re gabby, I can only be certain I know what you’re thinking with…” She deliberately ran her forefinger down her body, from her mouth to her crotch. Then she reached toward him, and less than inch away from his body, let her finger trace the same path on him. He swore he could feel the heat follow her finger. He shook his head. They’d done pretty good this morning. The aching desperate need had even subsided on occasion. But he didn’t shake his head in denial. In fact, at the moment, he couldn’t exactly recall what he was fighting against. But she waited for him to make that first move, so he sat on the couch next to her, slid closer, and rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling the delicate wings of her collar bone under his thumbs. He paused and she smiled into his face. “Yes, if you insist.” Will nodded and drew her against his body. She gasped as they touched. The good thing, he supposed, was that he knew her personality a little better now, and liked what he knew. Then he let the fever rush through his blood and take over his body. And he could hear her, because the only sound would come from her. Oh, excellent, he thought as she moaned. He stroked her shoulder blade, down her back. Because of his own silence, he’d hear every single gasp and moan. He didn’t feel the urge to say thank you, Edgar, but the possibilities proved intriguing. Her breath, fast and with the echo of a whimper in it, filled him. He loved the way her panting quickened when he drew his hands over her hips and pulled her closer. When she opened her mouth, he could hear the rasp of her sigh that turned into a moan as he covered her lips for a kiss. He slid his hands over her, drawing up her shirt and sweatshirt. Lovely. He snapped open her front closure bra. In such a short time apart he’d forgotten the texture of her skin—he was surprised as he ran fingers over her bare belly. So soft. How could any skin feel that tender? He listened as he dipped his hand down her front, sliding into the tight running pants so he could slide his fingers into her panties to stroke her. Already wet and ready, but as he listened to her breath catch, he knew he could hold back. He eased her onto the sofa. She raised her hips as he pulled off her running pants and panties. With her rumpled tee shirt pushed up over her breasts and nothing else covering her, she was deliciously obscene, an adolescent boy’s wet dream. He would not be the adolescent boy with her, not again. He pinned her onto her back with one hand and planted small kisses down her belly, listening for any tiny changes in her. She squeaked as he pushed her calves over his shoulders and licked his way down the inside of her thighs to suck and lick her pussy. Her sweet, pungent flavor was already familiar and made his mouth water. He might as well use his mouth for something if he couldn’t talk. Her body rocked. He wanted to use his hand, press fingers inside her, but she moved too much so he had to wrap his hands around her hips to hold her still.

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When she froze and quivered, her voice a light, keening moan, he felt only the trace of an echo in him. Might have just been the excitement of watching a gorgeous woman come under his hands. He could at last release her hip and reach between her legs to push a finger inside her wet tight body. Yeah, that was good. Another finger. He sucked her clit and pushed his fingers in and out of her. The anticipation of replacing those fingers with his cock inside her swollen pussy made him groan—silently of course. He would wait. Wait for her. Her body squeezed rhythmically around his fingers as she came again. The startled cry of “God”, and then a sob and “Will, oh, Will” was almost a whisper. If he’d been in the throes of passion then—and if he’d been inside her, hell, yes, he’d be coming—he would have missed his name. He’d been in charge, had not been tossed around on the waves of their mutual lust, and he loved the control almost as much as he loved the thought of now losing control. He fished through his wallet then yanked off his jeans and boxers. He’d been patient just to prove he could be when he was with her. Now he’d give in. As he fumbled with the condom, she lay on her back and her gaze held him, focused and bright with lust. Such gorgeous eyes. He faltered as he rolled on the rubber. Gia, he wanted to say—and just that. Gia on his couch, vibrant…and vibrating at that. Legs spread. She rolled onto her stomach. He’d wanted to be face-to-face, kissing, touching, making love, but this was okay too. Gia rose to her knees and waggled her delicious rear at him. He grabbed her hips and held on tight as he worked his way into her body. They only touched at his hands and cock. He loved the feel of her hot and slick, but he wanted to bury all of himself in her and feel all of her skin, so he leaned over her back and moved slowly inside her. Her sighs grew louder and she pushed back against him hard. Soon they moved urgently enough the slap of their bodies almost drowned out her sob. “Good,” she whispered and a few strokes later, “Harder. Please.” He obeyed and pushed into her faster, thrusting as if they did battle, clutching her so tight his fingers dug into the muscles of her hips. Gia, I am inside Gia, he thought and her body under his moved and writhed so perfectly. She pulled him to the edge. She froze and cried out. Her body squeezed around his cock, but her voice filled with wonder and joy was more than enough to push him into an explosion. Again and again he jerked, as the waves pulled him under. This was different, he thought, as he leaned over her again and kissed her shoulder. He pulled out of her, regretting the need, and quickly cleaned up. Wonderful, exuberant and just about as mind-blowing as sex had ever been. But he could move now. And think as well. He pulled her against his front in a spooning snuggle, hoping he didn’t tip off the edge of the couch. He wished he could speak, ask her how she was. He took her hand in his and drew a question mark on her palm. “Hmmm?” she asked, sleepily. 101

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He tried again. She laughed. “I used to play that with my mom. She’d write letters on my hand. I’d forgotten that. Apparently I’ve forgotten how to do it because I can’t figure out what you’re doing.” She yawned and twisted so she could peer over her shoulder at him. “Is it important?” Will shook his head. He kissed her shoulder and pulled her closer, trying to get as much of her skin touching his as possible. Would she be sad when she figured out the truth—he was fairly certain they’d lost the scariest part of their mutual curse. That’s why he allowed his eyes to drift shut. No fucking her without my permission, he sternly ordered his body and let himself fall into a doze. For days his heart had felt thick with a sort of sorrow and at last it lightened. He’d come inside Gia and remained sane. The end of the craziness meant something else could begin, he hoped. If she still wanted him. Gia felt his breath slow and his body relax. Unbelievable. The man had just been cursed, couldn’t produce so much as a gasp or whisper, and yet he could sleep. She nestled back against him, enjoying the heat inside the circle of his embrace. But her head was too full and she wanted to move. Will shifted his leg and as his skin slid against hers, his hair rubbed on her skin, stirring a ripple of lust. Would he mind if she rolled him onto his back and explored his body? She licked her lips as she thought about tasting him. No. He needed his rest, obviously. Will had passed out so entirely, she managed to disengage herself from his grasp, no problem, although getting off the sofa was another story. That required some climbing. She hoisted herself over the back and thumped onto the braided rag carpet. Without his warm body around her, the air felt chilly on her skin, so she found her clothes and got dressed. She wouldn’t sneak onto his computer even if it wasn’t broken, but she might as well explore his apartment. Three small rooms. Not a lot smaller than her own, but with a temporary feel. Not quite cinderblock and board temporary, but the walls were almost bare, the décor, minimum. It could be male disinterest. His fridge was surprisingly well-stocked for a man alone, with ingredients too. She touched a bag of carrots and wondered if she’d discovered a man who liked to cook. Now that would be fun. On the sofa, he shifted. And grunted. A real noise from his throat. She closed the fridge and hurried over to him. He lay on his back now and she admired the muscles of his arm, legs and chest. Nice flat stomach. His cock twitched and she wondered if his excitement roused because her own thoughts had taken a sexual turn.

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She knelt by the sofa and inhaled the lovely spice of Will along with sweat and sex. Nice. Why people wanted to rush to clean off that earthy yumminess… She looked down. No, he hadn’t grown more erect. And he hadn’t made another sound. This would be easy to figure out though. She considered kissing him, tasting his lips and along the line of his jaw, but decided she’d do a sneak frontal attack instead. Leaning over him, she took a long leisurely lick of his cock. He started awake and croaked. She leaned back onto her heels and grinned at him. “Don’t stop,” he murmured. His sleepy eyes widened. In a louder voice he said, “Testing?” He grimaced and touched his throat again. “Does it hurt?” “A bit. That might be because I kept shouting. Back when I couldn’t.” He swung his legs around and sat up. His hair stood on end and he looked adorable. “It’s over. Well, thank God that one didn’t last as long as the sex one did.” His voice was rough, like a smoker’s rasp. “What do you mean as long as the sex one did? That curse is still part of our lives.” He raised his eyebrows. And then he pointed to his cock, which was at half-mast. “Observe. Entirely under control.” She stared at it and even as she gazed, his cock rose. “You were saying?” She reached for the hem of her tee shirt and pulled it up and over her head. “Come on. Let’s celebrate the return of your voice.” She moved to him, sucking in her breath as he folded his arms around her and drew her close. Her nipples tingled and hardened as they grazed his chest. The phone rang. “We’re ignoring it,” he said and bent his mouth to hers. The answering machine picked up and a minute later a woman’s voice filled the room. “I’m five minutes away and I’m stopping by. Be warned, I’m not going to give up.” Gia had wrapped her arms around his neck, now she let go and tried to pull away. He didn’t loosen his hold on her as he grinned at her. “You look pissed,” he said. “Well yeah. A bit.” He still smiled and two things occurred to her at once. She had no right to feel possessive because she had no claim to him. The other was less depressing. “That’s Manda, isn’t it? I should have recognized the voice of family.” He finally let go of her to lean over to pick up her tee shirt. He handed it to her. “Yup, she’s a nagger.” She watched him get dressed. Boxers, jeans—she was sorry to see those legs and that ass and other fine bits covered up again. As he lifted his arms over his head to pull

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on his shirt, she stopped trying to resist touching him and went for a last hug of his bare torso. “Hey.” His voice was muffled by the shirt and laughter. She kissed his chest then backed off so he could finish. He thrust his hands through his hair a few times then glanced around the room. “Manda has got eagle eyes,” he said. “Always looking for signs of— Aha.” He swooped down on the condom wrapper and stuffed it into his jeans pocket. “I feel a little nervous,” she said. As if this were a real date and he was a real boyfriend. Well, why not? She gave him a challenging stare, daring him to point out there was no need to worry, but his attention was elsewhere—he shoved couch cushions back in place. He went to the sink and filled an aluminum tea kettle with water, thumped it down on the burner a little too hard. “How do you want me to introduce you?” he asked as he fiddled with what looked like a stiff knob on the electric range. “You can use my name. No need for aliases.” “She’s going to ask. Should I say friend? Or can I tell her you’re my partner in strange happenings? What I mean is…” He thumped the knob with the heel of his hand then easily turned it on. “I’m going to tell her about the curse.” “Why?” “Why not? Also she knows I went to the hospital. Do you mind if I mention you?” “Oh. No. That’s fine.” She sat on the arm of the couch. “Will you tell her all about it? I mean the dreams and the weird sex?” He laughed. It was good to hear his laughter again. So what if he’d only been silent a couple of hours? She liked his voice. He wiped his hands on his jeans and went over to a cupboard. “I have no intention of telling my baby sister about my sex life, perverted or otherwise.” “So she won’t be pushy.” “Oh, she’ll push all right. But she isn’t always the most stubborn one. Usually, but not always.” He pulled down a huge mug that had “World’s Worst Sister” on the side with a picture of a dragon. “Subtle humor you got there,” Gia said. “She doesn’t care, as long as it holds a lot of liquid. You want tea too?” She nodded. Having tea would give her something to do while she waited for her confrontation with the dragon sister. “You have mint tea?” “I have tea tea. Nothing else.” “Never mind then.” The effects of her sleepy post-sex time had dissipated, and she had no need for another molecule of caffeine. Why did she feel so nervous? Something had shifted that afternoon and she wasn’t sure what had changed. Other than seeing the old man again and the way Will had lost and regained his voice.

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Manda showed up exactly five minutes after her call. “The girl is obsessed with punctuality,” Will said as he went to the door. “Drives everyone around her nuts.” “Which is why I do it.” The short, fluffy haired woman blinked and looked around the room. “Who’re you talking to?” Will stepped back so his sister could shove her way into the room. He said, “Hello to you. This is Gia.” Manda stopped dead and gazed at Gia. “Ha! For once Greg wasn’t exaggerating.” Her hair was almost the same color as his, darker perhaps because she wasn’t out in the sun as much. She wore khaki pants, a nondescript gray sweater and scuffed black pumps. Except for the sea-blue eyes and a pair of smiling sun earrings, she didn’t appear striking in any way, which Gia expected was on purpose. Manda held out a hand. Her nails were gnawed to the quick, but her fingers were long and elegant. They reminded Gia of Will’s hands. Her handshake was almost painful. “Greg is my husband,” Manda said. “But I think you’ve met him. Funnylooking, flirtatious. He’s currently working at the same site Will does?” “Uh, yeah.” Gia looked at Will but he appeared to be lost in a thorough examination of the side of his thumb. “I met him.” The subject was finished apparently. “I need tea.” Manda walked to the stove and peered into the teakettle, which was already gurgling and spouting steam. She sure did make herself at home in her brother’s place—Gia had a strong suspicion if you didn’t like Manda, being Will’s girlfriend would hold some tension. She was determined to like Manda. “Anyway,” Manda went on as she scowled at the teacup, “Greg told me that Will had met a gorgeous Italian-looking woman who was doing strange things to my brother.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a box of teabags. “I didn’t pay much attention to him until Lizzy told me you’d shown up at Memorial Hospital with a woman with dark hair. And you two have some kind of mysterious shared complaint.” She flapped open one of the teabags and dropped it into the cup. “Since Lizzy wouldn’t tell me what that meant, I expect the worst.” Will gave Gia an apologetic smile and said, “Manda, since when do you—” She held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I’m nosy but I’m not gonna talk about it unless you two want to.” Will snickered. Manda poured the water into the mug. A flash of a lopsided smile was the only sign she’d heard her brother’s derisive laughter. She jammed the knob of the stove then turned it off. “Why do you have a frog in your throat? Getting sick?” After she sniffed the tea, she dipped two fingers into the hot water, quickly retrieved the dripping bag and tossed it into the sink. “I have spoons,” Will said.

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She continued to ignore him. “Anyway. Greg’s the one who needs a keeper. Not Will. Not usually anyway.” She flashed her brother another tiny smile. “I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay. That’s all, really. But it’s nice to meet you, Gia.” She reminded Gia of Ms. R, radiating curiosity and concern for Will but trying to pretend she didn’t want to interfere. Maybe Will was the kind of man who got annoyed when women bugged him—in other words when they showed any interest in his life. Manda’s last few sentences made it sound as if she was on her way out but she carried her tea across the small room and settled on the couch. She blew across the top of the tea. “So did you really assault her at the work site, Will?” “That’s what Greg says?” Manda sipped a couple of times before answering. “Yup. Just about.” “No, he didn’t assault me,” Gia said. “That’s where we met.” “There was something about sex dreams too. Greg insisted that was why you guys went to the hospital. But that’s crazy-talk even for him.” Will folded his arms and glanced at Gia. “More like hallucinations. But it’s under control. Don’t worry.” Manda leaned forward and carefully placed the teacup on a scrap of paper lying on the coffee table. When she folded her arms and wore the same expression as Will, they might have been frowning twins. “You sound like you’re a croaking frog and you talk about hallucinations. How come I’m not supposed to worry?” “Because I said so.” She made a rude noise with her lips and looked at Gia. “Do you have brothers?” Gia shook her head. “Lucky. The jerk never did understand that worrying doesn’t come with an on-off switch. Do you think I should stop worrying?” Gia didn’t look at Will. “I’m not dumb enough to tell you to stop, but I can tell you that things are getting better. I mean, a couple of hours ago your brother couldn’t make a sound and now he’s just a little hoarse. And the things that are sort of like hallucinations are going to get better.” Will said, “They already are. Basically all better.” Gia supposed he was trying to reassure his sister when he said the symptoms were over, so she didn’t contradict him. At any rate, “all better” described the situation as far as she was concerned. And getting better all the time. He was less spooked and the way he touched her just a short time ago… She could get turned-on just sitting here thinking of his hands caressing her. Firm strokes up the inside of her thighs or, soft, almost tickling sweeps of his fingers over her belly. She squeezed her legs together, clenched her muscles tight to feel the pleasurable ripples and imagine him next to her and pulling her close. Damn. She worried her

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lower lip, pulling it between her teeth, and even that tiny scraping pain increased her arousal. She had a clear picture of the two of them, naked and entwined. He glanced at her. And smiled. See? That was better. Before he would have freaked and wanted her to stop it, settle down. Gia didn’t want to end up jumping the guy in front of his sister, so she bit her lip harder. When actual pain didn’t distract her, she forced herself to concentrate on Manda who was telling Will about a party she’d gone to. It soon became clear that Manda hadn’t gone to the party for fun—she was a caterer. “Do you have a card?” she asked Manda. “Sure. Do you have a job for me?” Manda handed across the small purple card. “Tell me yes and you can marry my brother with my blessings.” Will made a strangled sound and, judging from his fast-reddening face, would have had more to say but the phone rang. Giving his sister a seriously dirty look, he dove for it. Gia didn’t consider herself overly sensitive, but honestly, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of resentment. Every time anyone said anything to Will, even in jest, about a connection between the two of them, he acted as if they’d presented him with a bag of poop. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” she said to Manda. “And yes, I do think I know of possible work for you.” Her mother was always on the lookout for decent caterers. She loved to hold parties and hated cooking. “I’m not sure I want your brother on a permanent basis though.” “Just for fun?” Manda asked brightly. Gia shrugged and stood. “You’re not going are you?” Will covered the phone. “It’s Campbell. They think they’ve found Edgar. They’ve got someone trailing him. And they’re hoping they can put a tracer on him.” “That’s nice,” said Gia. “Good luck to them.” “Don’t you care?” “Who’s Edgar?” Manda asked. “You explain, if you want,” she told Will. “I’m tired. Maybe I should go home.” She wasn’t so sure why she was so depressed. She’d gone from exuberant to blah in less than ten minutes. You’re not sixteen anymore, she reminded herself. No need for that kind of rollercoaster emotional nonsense. The look of death he’d flashed at his sister after Manda’s silly little remark about marriage hurt more than it should. “Don’t go yet, please?” He waved the phone at Gia. “At least talk to the doctor first.”

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Chapter Thirteen Without looking at Will, Gia took the phone. “Dr. Campbell?” “Miss Harmon, I hope you’ll be available to help identify the man? You’re the only recent 12-D other than Taylor who got a clear picture of him.” “I sort of think I’ve had enough of curses today.” She looked over at Will and Manda. They were talking in furious whispers. If she was lucky, Will was explaining it all to his sister and she’d be saved trying to avoid embarrassing questions. Dr. Campbell was speaking. “He can talk again so soon, it supports my theory. I believe Mr. Taylor is almost immune to Edgar.” “What do you mean?” “I have a theory that repeated exposures means that Edgar has less power. We’ll see if that’s true. After all, the man doesn’t cause real physical harm unless—” “No, wait a sec.” She suspected Dr. Campbell wanted Will to act as a guinea pig. “He had your friend, Dr. Marton, making a fool of himself. And what if someone had an accident during one of those, uh, hallucinations?” “The other theory I’d like to test is that if you don’t have eye contact with him, you’re safe.” “But Will didn’t see him that first day when we both got it.” “Doesn’t recall seeing him isn’t the same thing. So far, the only people who have been affected by the man have seen him, and most of them who recall the man recall the eye contact. We think it’s important.” She sighed and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “What do you want us to do?” “We have a group of students and we want to see who among them would be able to see him. And we were hoping that either you or Mr. Taylor would be willing to help with them. Plus…” He cleared his throat. “We hoped one of you would be willing to plant the device on the man. A small tracer. Make it much easier to find him.” “Why are you asking us?” He was silent. “Because no one else will do it,” she guessed. “Not even the researchers in your program.” He gave a small cough. “There is also the fact that we don’t like to call in the standard authorities. There have been some issues with emergency personnel. About six months ago one of them made the mistake of questioning a bearded loiterer when he was lounging in a park next to city hall.”

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She suddenly recalled a small piece in the paper she and Sooz had giggled about. “Hey, I bet…the cop who stripped down and jumped into the city hall fountain last year. Was that the thing you’re talking about? That had to be one of the curses.” Campbell hesitated then said, “Yes. And soon after that we got increased state and local funding for our unit.” “I say you can use that extra money to pay some poor slob to go bell your cat. I don’t know why—” “If you’re talking about going up to the old guy, I’ll do it. I already said I would.” Will might have been offering to carry in someone’s groceries. “It’ll be interesting to find out if he can do his oogie-boogie on someone twice in one day.” “Was that Mr. Taylor?” Campbell demanded. “Let me talk to him again.” She handed the phone to Will and sat back down. “Oookay.” Manda plunked her empty mug onto the coffee table. “Make this easy for me. Explain what the hell is going on, please.” “Didn’t Will explain about the guy he calls Edgar?” Manda said, “Some. But what some lunatic wandering the streets can do to Will, I don’t get that. I won’t bother asking him because he will just deny there’s something wrong, but I can see you’re not real happy either. It’s okay if you don’t answer,” she hastily added. “I mean, I won’t sulk. But seriously what’s the matter?” “I’m okay.” Manda looked so worried she had to say something. “Will isn’t exactly risking his life or anything, but he’s about to ask for trouble because this guy, Dr. Campbell, wants help with Edgar.” “Oh, well, if it’s just physical danger, never mind. I thought there was some kind of mental nonsense going on.” Gia didn’t bother to explain that it was entirely mental. She wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “But that kind of thing? He’s been asking for trouble for years,” Manda got up and refilled the teapot at the sink. “Daredevil Will, always up for a challenge. He was riding two-wheelers with no hands at the same age most kids still had training wheels. And later on what he’d get up to skipping school and then with women…” She clamped her mouth shut and punched at the burner knob on the stove. “No, no. Sorry. He said he was gonna change all that since that one recent girl. Candy or something. Cammi.” Manda turned to Gia and made a face. “Damn. I really need to learn to shut up sometimes.” “Really. Don’t worry about me.” Gia managed a real smile. “The stuff between us is kind of complicated.” “That’s sort of what he said, and he says it’s all about that old guy with a beard. But I still don’t get what…never mind.” Manda pressed her mouth tight. Gia guessed she was trying to hold back more questions or comments. 109

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Across the small room, Will leaned against the wall, a hand covering one ear, the phone pressed to other as he listened to Campbell. His eyes looked bright and eager, the fool. Gia had thought him so cautious, but apparently that only had to do with sex, or maybe—she remembered what Manda had said about Will and women—only sex with Gia. He flipped the phone shut and pushed away from the wall. “We’re going to meet, they’ll give me instructions and then we’ll head out.” “What will they give you?” “We’re supposed to figure out how to get the transmitter onto him, maybe his hat. The tentative plan is for me to talk to him again. That’ll shake him up. Then while I have his attention, someone else can attach the thing. Campbell promises no one has actually been injured by Edgar.” “I bet a few have hurt themselves. You’re crazy for saying yes,” Gia said. He grinned. “You’re worried about me?” “I didn’t say that. Who’s going to be the one to thump the thing onto his hat?” “I suppose one of the grad students.” “What about David Marton? He’s been exposed before, so he should do it.” You could volunteer, her conscience was telling her. You’ve been exposed more recently. “He might be the one. Campbell’s in a hurry, so he didn’t want to talk long. They already know the old guy has the habit of disappearing.” The teakettle whistled and Manda picked it up. The kettle gave a loud tweet and hiss as she thumped it down on the stove instead of pouring. “I’m trying to be good and not interfere but this is driving me nuts. Who’s David?” she asked. “Who’s Edgar and why are you so worried about a crazy old guy? What do you mean, exposed? What’s he got, rabies? A bad flasher habit?” Will shoved his phone into his jeans’ pocket. “David Marton is a doctor and as far as I know the old bearded guy isn’t just crazy, he makes other people crazy.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll see you later. Feel free to stick around. Mi casa after all.” “I’m going,” Gia said. If Edgar managed to do something, she didn’t trust Campbell to actually take care of Will. Examine him, poke him with needles, yes. Treat him like a patient, no. “Me too.” Manda picked up her purse. “We’ll take my car.” They drove in her small red Saturn, with no discussion, only Will giving directions to the meeting point. They found a cluster of ten people, a few well-dressed older professionals, but mostly students with bad haircuts wearing blue jeans and sweatshirts. They stood on the sidewalk not far from the coffee shop where she and Will had had coffee. “He hasn’t gotten very far,” Gia said as Manda pulled into a metered spot close to the group. “They didn’t want a crowd forming too near him. So we’ll talk, then break into pairs.” 110

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They joined Campbell on the sidewalk. He stared at Gia, obviously surprised. “I thought you weren’t interested.” “Will does this then so do I.” “Interesting. So the bond is changing?” “You might say that,” Will answered before she could. “Bond?” Manda jingled the car keys in her hand. “What’s that about?” She must have noticed the suppressed nervous excitement of the group. “Sorry. Never mind. I’ll find out later. I want more tea,” she announced. “You two want anything?” Gia and Will shook their heads no. Manda trotted toward the coffee shop. “She’s such an addict,” Will said, watching his sister fondly. He turned his attention to Campbell. “The plan?” The idea was as stupid and easy as Will had described. One person—Will— distracted Edgar while another planted a bug with a GPS device on it. The actual bug was tiny, smaller than a fly, and had some sort of sticky substance on its surface to hold it in place. Campbell started in on a lecture about the dangers of Edgar, and Gia didn’t want to listen. She wandered over to a maple tree and stared up into the branches at the bright red leaves. Will joined her so she stared at him instead. Not as colorful but just as gorgeous. “The faster we do this, the better,” Gia muttered. “We?” Will tilted his head and half smiled at her. “I want to get this over with,” she insisted in a low voice. “You’re scared?” “Horny, too. We’re close to each other, so of course I have desires. I’d like to be able to either get away from you or feel you holding me again. Inside me again.” He went still and gazed at her, his eyes hot. “Hold that thought for now. God, you do have a way of knocking the wind out of a man. No wonder your old boyfriend couldn’t bear to stay away.” She couldn’t help laughing. “He bore it just fine for months. And despite what he said, I don’t think it was a coincidence that he showed up just after our run-in with Edgar.” “Now you’re the one insulting your own charms, Gia.” He sounded so indignant she tried to explain again. “I keep telling you I was inhibited. Don’t you believe me?” He didn’t answer so she said, “I’ve gained something new in the last few days. It’s like I’ve gotten an appetite. For a lot of things, but mostly sex. That has to show up, right?” “Maybe.” He focused on her lips and then gazed into her eyes. “But I know you’ve always been worth a second look. Your smile and laugh would be enough to attract a sane straight man. And those haven’t changed, have they?”

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“Um.” She was too lost in those startling blue eyes to think straight. He moved closer. He was going to kiss her. Their first public display of affection. Of course they could kiss without falling into a must-fuck swoon. She hoped. She was determined to find out. The spell was broken when Campbell walked over saying, “David’s willing.” Oh. Right… They weren’t just here to talk and kiss. The fact that Gia had almost forgotten why they stood around on this street corner had to be a sign—another symptom that she was still under Edgar’s spell binding her to Will. A good sign because according to Campbell she was less vulnerable. She could join the party and do something to help Will. She tucked her hands into her sweatshirt pouch. “Game time, then? Okay. I’m going to walk with Will.” Will gaped at her then said, “It’s stupid for both of us to risk—” “Just let me, okay? I think I have an easier time spotting Edgar than you do. And besides, who else can do it? No one else has been zapped, right?” Campbell shook his head. “No one in this group other than Dave. And he’s going to come at the subject from the other direction.” “The subject? That some sort of science name for him?” Campbell didn’t seem to notice Gia’s snarky question. “We can’t let him know we’re following him. We can’t let him know anything.” The phone in his hand buzzed and he nodded at Will. “Go. Go on. Walk. About a quarter mile but you approach in a semicircle. You know the direction. Go.” Gia and Will set off. She looked back at the group that stood on the curb gazing after them. One of the men had a hand on Manda’s arm, restraining her. She shook him off and sipped from a steaming paper cup. Manda gave Gia a friendly wave. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay here,” she called after them. Campbell whipped around and glared at Manda. They were supposed to be in small groups of people who didn’t know each other. The doctor was so nervous his hands trembled. Gia wondered if anyone in this group—or outside it—had a clue about what they were dealing with. She squeezed Will’s arm and tried not to get sidetracked by the fact that his biceps were like warm iron under her fingers. Time to draw comfort, not get into a froth of desire. He covered her fingers with his hand briefly then let go of her to walk faster. “You said it, let’s get this over with.” They walked along a side street in a quiet neighborhood. To distract herself, Gia concentrated on the bungalows they passed. Some day she wanted to live in a house like that. Nothing big. A neat, small house with a little porch and garden out front. She’d live with a man who was handy. Like Will. “Why are you doing this?” he asked. She wasn’t sure. “Why are you?”

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“I don’t like the way he’s screwing around with people.” “That’s it?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at a pinecone. “And I’m really curious about him. Aren’t you? How can he get away with it? How does he do it?” “I’m curious, but I’m happy to be curious from a distance.” He slowed and fell into step next to her. “All right, then why are you doing this?” “You.” She hitched her backpack up on her shoulders. “Heck if he tries to zap you with some kind of sex thing again, I want to be the one who gets the benefits.” He laughed. “Thanks.” She was grateful he didn’t get all prissy and frown at her. “Will,” she said. “I’m not trying to trap you or anything, okay? I mean, I’m not looking for marriage.” “Right, but no need to reassure me,” he said. “I mean, I’m not so scared of the big C-commitment. Not anymore.” “Unless we’re talking about someone like me.” He stopped dead. “What? Why’d you say that?” “You’re always running off.” “Not from you, Gia. Just the strange stuff, I promise.” “Hey, I saw the look you gave your sister. When she made the joke about letting us get married if I got her a job.” “That’s because you’ve made it clear you’re not interested in long term. And she tends to be sort of forceful.” He sighed. “I don’t want you to get spooked by my sister.” Her heart felt squeezed tight and she wanted to stop right there and hug him. Later on this was going to be a moment to savor. She skipped a little to mark the occasion. “Oh, I thought the horror was directed at me.” “No. Her. Manda, as usual.” She was grinning like a fool and skipped again. “I like the women in your life.” “The women? You mean Manda? Who else?” “Mizzar.” “She’s not pushy like Manda.” Gia recalled the woman’s avid curiosity over coffee. “I imagine she would be pushier if she wasn’t scared she might drive you away.” “She shouldn’t worry, but I don’t think I’ll tell her.” “You won’t get driven away?” “No. No, ’course not. When I was younger I took off now and then. You know. Restless. Pissed off.” She didn’t know, but she nodded.

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He absently scratched his head and gazed off at nothing, as if he was just realizing something. “But I wouldn’t leave without saying anything anymore. And I’d come back. I owe her a lot. And anyway, I like her.” “I think you said you’ve never had long-term, real relationships with women. There are two.” “Come on. It’s different. A lover or a…” He paused and breathed in. “A wife is a whole different story.” “Sure, but it means a lot that you respect and like those two.” He made a face at her. “I’ll take your word for it, Oprah.” The phone in his hand vibrated. She could hear the slight buzz. He held it to his ear and listened. Time to steady herself. She squeezed her hands into fists and waited. Will flipped the phone shut. “They’re pretty certain he’s just around this corner. Dave’s ready.” He put his hands on her shoulders and searched her face. “Are you ready? When we turn the corner he’ll be walking in our direction. You wait at least fifty feet away, okay? That’s the number they think matters. Fifty feet. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. But distract him if you see Dave’s getting in trouble, okay?” “Right.” He leaned close for a fast kiss, soft mouth brushing hers. Around the corner, the landscape changed abruptly from small but well-kept houses to the start of an industrial area. Straggling yellow grass formed an edge between a crumbling sidewalk and a chain-link fence. The road was quiet here at the moment though it had the ridges and buckles of a road that saw heavy traffic. On weekdays trucks would rumble past. On a Saturday the whole area, road and surroundings, felt abandoned. Gia saw the red hat first as it bobbed along not far away. A simple knit cap, not a pointed felt thing as she’d thought at first glance. Then below the hat, she saw the gray form of Edgar walking at the edge of the road. “There,” she said. “Do you see him?” He slowed and clutched her hand. “Okay. Stop here. Don’t look him in the face.” “You don’t,” she said. “You’re the one going in close.” He nodded and set off, walking straight toward Edgar—though Will kept his head bent as if he studied the leaves and broken glass littering the sidewalk. The nervous, darting figure of Dave Marton zigzagged down the street behind Edgar. She could only hope the old man wouldn’t turn around because Dave was not cool in the face of danger. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d worn a neon sign that announced “I’m sneaking up on you!” Despite Dave, it seemed to go fine. “Excuse me.” Will strode toward Edgar. “I have my voice again. Thank you for not taking it very long. I think I have learned my lesson.” He actually did sound grateful. Maybe that would help. 114

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Edgar stopped. He blinked small bright eyes. Will wasn’t looking into his face but Gia did and what she saw unnerved her. Dave’s hesitant jog picked up a rhythm and he ran up behind Edgar. He slowed as he passed but the old man didn’t notice. Edgar was busy with Will, muttering something under his breath. The hair on Gia’s arms rose. Something bad was going to happen to Will. They were wrong about Edgar—he could do real damage. She knew it in her marrow, saw it in the harsh little face of the man. But Gia fought the urge to go to Will. She waited and watched. Dave ran past Gia, steady at last. As he jogged by her, he flashed a thumbs-up in front of his chest so no one behind them could see. Good. They were done. Once Dave had done his part, Will should have moved. He didn’t. Gia took two steps, ready to stop Edgar if he hurt Will again. Not too close. She’d call from a safe distance and distract Edgar. But how could it be that Will was affected? He still stared at his feet without moving. A statue. At that instant, Edgar’s glance shifted from Will. His eyes locked on hers and they were filled with recognition. “The twins,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I remember you.” She tried for a pleasant smile and knew she only seemed sheepish. Look down at your feet, she ordered herself. God, maybe Edgar was less than fifty away feet because she sure as hell couldn’t look anywhere but into those eyes. “You remember me?” he asked. The words were too big to come from a man. They came from the sidewalk, from somewhere below her feet. “Um.” She couldn’t speak because she couldn’t lie to him. He shuffled toward her. Will didn’t move—didn’t seem able to move. Frozen to the spot just like Gia. And way down the road, Dave didn’t move either even though he had to be far out of the danger zone by now. Gia became conscious that the grass, which had been waving in a slight breeze, stopped moving too. Edgar didn’t shift his attention from her. He held Gia with those eyes. Rather like Will’s, she realized with a start—pale and powerful. His gaze was like his voice. Too big and his eyes grew as she watched. How could that be? Just eyes. But she could see too much in his irises. His power gripped her and made her as breathless as when her gaze met Will’s. Except dread, not longing, surged through her. In the tangled nest of gray mustache and beard, his lips moved, but she couldn’t see clearly because she was still caught by the eyes. And she recognized a familiar plummeting fear. The first time she remembered leaving New York City as a child, she’d gone to a meadow after dark. In that wide open spot, she had seen her first real night sky, huge and bulging with far too many stars. That sky seemed too serious and she couldn’t

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escape the bottomless power of it. The echo of that night sky stood in front of her now. Too much to comprehend. In another age, or form, Edgar had been far larger. Strong, noble and filled head to foot with the sort of power that would spoil any creature. He was sour with disdain for anything less potent than him—and probably had been for years, an ingrained habit. And nearly everything was less potent than Edgar. A trace of the terrible power remained, barely held in check by an aging body, irritated by the foibles it encountered. “You’re a king,” she managed to say. The slate-colored eyes seemed less disdainful for a second, even pleased, perhaps, that she recognized the truth. She knew too much about him, could see him too well. Please, don’t make me see this much of you. Let me only read my darling Will. Gia pictured Will’s tanned and smiling face, and felt comfort in Edgar’s face of awesome indifference. The truth of Will’s kindness eased the fear slightly. She longed to turn her head just a couple of inches so she might see Will in the flesh. Maybe the old man would let her look away eventually so she could breathe less rarified, dangerous air. From far off, she could hear Will calling her name. The panic in his voice told her something she already knew. This Edgar, whatever he might be, was not her friend. He had no affection for anyone or anything. “I’m sorry, your Majesty,” she whispered, even though the old man was far away. Not fifty feet though. Obviously he wasn’t far enough and now he shambled closer. Relief flooded her when she could blink and look again. The frightful vision of what lay below that skin faded, replaced by the old man in a grungy green overcoat with shoulders that were too big for him. Gray beard, red hat. A bent gnome of a man, looking at her with malicious bright eyes, but at least they were human, or close enough. “Well now, no need to give you any sorta punishment. You looked too long and hard. You don’t want to go looking into things that ain’t yer business,” he said in that cold, big gravel voice that seemed to scratch along her nerves. “The twin I got you is mostly a fool. You, not as much. Sleep a while. That’ll keep yer headache from being too bad.” Her head swam, but she had to tell him it was okay and she was glad he didn’t do more to her. “All right,” she said. “Thank you.” And the world faded. She sank to the sidewalk, grateful for the dark with not a single star in it.

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Chapter Fourteen Will didn’t understand how it happened. Marton had jogged past Gia and a heartbeat later, she’d sunk to the sidewalk, unconscious. Will fought past a sense of blurred time, but something shifted because by the time he’d gotten to her, racing across the road to the sidewalk, Edgar had vanished. Will pushed down the red-hot dangerous need to find the hunched old bastard and beat him to a bloody pulp. He had something far more important to do. “Gia,” he whispered, hoarse. He knelt by her, felt her too-chilly wrist for her pulse. Slow, just like each of her breaths. Steady was good, he reminded himself. He wanted to pull her off the cold pavement onto his lap, but stopped himself. She shouldn’t be moved. Crouching over her protectively, he fumbled for the phone with numb fingers, trying to understand what had happened. Edgar had done something, but how? And in only the blink of an eye. Although perhaps…there was that sliding sense of time. Dream time. He thought about dialing 9-1-1, yet even as he punched the on-button, remembered the cluster of doctors standing around less than a mile away. He pressed send and bellowed into the phone. “Get the fuck over here. Now.”

***** She wouldn’t wake up. Will called to her, stroked her cheek. The ambulance arrived fast, lights flashing and sirens blaring, and she didn’t stir. “Step back, sir,” they told him, and examined Gia. Will stood with Marton who tried to reassure him and failed miserably. When the second the EMT started to slide the backboard into place to wedge under Gia, she bolted upright. “Will?” Her voice was shrill and wide awake. He pushed aside the EMT. “Gia.” Will sucked in a huge breath of relief. She blinked and looked around. “He’s gone?” “Edgar? Yeah, a while ago.” “Good.” She stood, tottered a bit and he grabbed her just in time. Gia went pale and she squinted. “I have such a headache. He warned me about that. Take me home, okay?” “They want to take you to the hospital. Do some tests. You might have hit your head when you fell.” “No.” She rubbed a hand over the back of her head then leaned against him. “My head’s fine. No hospital. I just need some sleep.” With a soft sigh, like a child turning

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over in bed, she closed her eyes and slid down his body. She would have hit the ground if he hadn’t stooped and grabbed her forearms. She dangled like a puppet relaxing on its strings. “Looks like standard Edgar to me. But we’ll take her in,” Campbell began. “No, she said no.” Will waved away the EMTs and hoisted her limp body into his arms. “I’ll take her home and let her rest a couple of hours. Edgar’s last curse on me didn’t stick around very long.” Please, let this be as easy, he silently added. Manda, who’d arrived on foot with the doctors, stood around talking instead of trotting off to get her car. “She’s got family. Call them. They should take care of her.” “Her mother’s out of town and she’s her only relative in the area.” He shifted his hold on Gia and hoisted her up again. He stumbled a little. She wasn’t a heavy woman, but was a dead weight in his arms. Throwing her over his shoulder was out of the question. “Go. Get the car. We’ll argue later.” “Well maybe you should try her cell, see if—” “The car first, talk later.” Manda tossed him a sour look but jogged away without another word. He backed up to lean against a telephone pole, propping his foot up so he could rest some of Gia’s weight on his thigh. Campbell and Marton stood nearby in heated conversation with two young men wearing headsets. They waved hands and even shouted. Will guessed that the transmitter on Edgar wasn’t sending a signal. Not exactly surprising. Edgar thwarted them over and over. At the moment, Will didn’t much care. He pressed his face into Gia’s hair. “I hope you’re having good dreams and you wake up soon,” he murmured. She smelled of sweat and the sex they’d shared not so long ago. Or maybe it was a thousand years ago, he thought. The trace of Gia’s scent—he already recognized it—sent a throb of desire and fear through him. Manda’s Saturn pulled up to the curb. He opened the back door, pushed Gia in and shoved her over so he could sit next to her. “We’re going back to my place.” He leaned over her limp body to feel around for the seat belt, hauling her up and against him while he yanked the belt over her. Manda put the car in gear. “So why are you so sure she shouldn’t go to the hospital? This seems like major concussion to me. She needs more help than you can give, dude.” “It’ll wear off.” “Yeah, well if it was someone I cared about, I wouldn’t risk it.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re probably right. The emergency room. We should swing—” “No.” Gia spoke as if she were wide awake, though her eyes were shut and she didn’t move. “Take me home.” 118

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“Gia. Hey, listen. Stay awake. Come on, wake up.” He shook her shoulder. But she moved like a rag doll under his hand and her breathing didn’t change. She lapsed back into silence. “Seems pretty convenient that she only wakes up when you start talking about taking her to the hospital.” He nodded. “Sure does. But I’ll bet she’s not pretending, and this waking up and falling back to sleep is real. Or as real as anything Edgar does. I don’t think Gia’s a manipulative type.” “How about a crazy type?” “Nope. Not that either. I promised her. We’ll give this a couple of hours,” he said again. Manda held the door open for him and he carefully climbed the stairs clutching Gia against him. The fierce grip he had on her didn’t wake her—Edgar had some powerful voodoo for sure. Will carried her into his bedroom and deposited her on the unmade bed. He straightened and looked down at her. “At least your sheets aren’t filthy,” Manda said from the doorway. “Great. Just what I was worried about.” He still couldn’t bear to watch Gia in such deep sleep so he went back to the other room where Manda messed with the kettle and stove as usual. “So you don’t really know this Gia, do you,” she said as she settled on her usual spot on the couch. I know some things about her very well. He sat on the floor and stretched his legs out, trying not to think about those parts of Gia he knew best. Probably not a good idea to get aroused in front of his sister. “Not really.” “But from what I can see, you’re more serious about her than you’ve been since…” She stopped, sipped. “Well, since ever in your life. Even that idiot Cammi didn’t make your face go like that.” He was fairly sure he didn’t want to know, but asked anyway. “Go like what?” “Like you’ve been smacked hard on the back of the head by the good-luck fairy every time you look at her.” That wasn’t such a bad description, he supposed. “I like her.” “A lot.” He nodded. “So what’s the problem?” “No problem.” “She’s pretty but so not your type. In looks anyway. She’s not a cute blonde.” No way was he going to answer that one. Will rolled his shoulders trying to work out the kinks. Too much stress. 119

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“Okay, okay.” Manda rose from the chair. “Fine. Don’t talk to me. As long as you talk to her. But I don’t think she’s as certain as you are that you two are a good idea.” Knowing Manda, she might go to Gia with this stuff, so he said, “I don’t know if we are either. That’s why I don’t want to push too hard.” “Listen to you. Where’s my to-hell-with-safety brother?” “It matters.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by “it” but didn’t bother to explain that. “God, you are serious about this one.” She carried her cup to the sink and poured out the rest of the tea. Will guessed Manda made about fifty cups of tea a day and drank a total of maybe ten. She patted her pockets, diving into them and pulling out crumpled but unused tissues and half-finished packets of breath-mints, before finding her car keys in her purse. At the door she gave him a wave and a kiss of the hand. “I’m out of here. I’ll tell Greg you’ve had a dire accident and may not be in to work tomorrow. Call me if she ends up in the hospital. Wait, never mind that—call me no matter what.” After she left, he took off his shoes and went into the bedroom. He stopped dead in the doorway. Gia had stripped to the skin. Her clothes were strewn on the floor and bed and she lay sprawled on her stomach, still asleep. What an excellent rear she had, firm and… She shifted in her sleep, gave a tiny moan and rolled over. Yeah and the front view was excellent too. He adjusted his growing cock through his jeans and decided that arousal might be the way to wake her. He wasn’t sure if they still had the connection, but it was worth a try. And it gave him an excuse to touch a naked woman while she slept. Yet she didn’t move as he ran his hands over her legs, kissed his way over her belly. She only sighed when he nudged her thighs apart and stroked her between her legs. “Please,” he said. “I’m not into necrophilia.” He lay down next to her, his hand still cupping her mound. The rough curls and silk skin was enough to fully arouse him, though for the first time she was not slick against his fingers. He pressed his other hand against his swollen cock and watched her. That connection was fading, wasn’t it? The desperate hunger lingered, and he moaned and kissed her mouth, her neck. She sighed against his mouth, but otherwise she remained unresponsive. He groaned and rolled away from her. It hadn’t worked. But he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shucked them and the rest of his clothes. “Now we’re both naked,” he told her, “isn’t that enough?” She slept on. He rolled onto his side, propped on one elbow. “Should I keep going?” he asked her. “Should I take you while you’re totally out of it? Just as an experiment.” He sighed.

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“God. How skeevy can it get?” Gathering her close, he held her in his arms, refusing to give in to the instinct to move against her. “So close and so far away, Gia.” He brushed the hair from her face. She slept. He fidgeted. After a few minutes, he fished around on the bedside table and found a book he’d been reading for months. “This always puts me to sleep,” he told her. “Maybe that would be good today, huh?” Today it seemed to make him horny. “I should not be lying in bed naked with a naked woman,” he growled. But he didn’t want to leave her alone. She seemed too vulnerable and someone had to watch over this peculiar enchanted sleep. Maybe if he jacked off, they still had enough connection. She’d feel that much in her sleep. So close to him. So he wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock. “This won’t take long,” he whispered to her. “No touching you, I promise. God, I want to touch you. I want you to touch me. Wake up.” She smiled in her sleep. “That’s a good sign,” he groaned. “A very good one.” He was so close to erupting, could feel it in his balls. But he pulled his hand away, leaving his cock twitching. He’d draw this out, to see if he could get a rise from her. “Gia,” he whispered. “Can you feel how much I want you? How much I want this to be any part of you touching every part of me? Your mouth, your pussy, your ass, your hands, your hair, your breasts. Your breasts are perfect, by the way.” The words poured out of him. Most of it nonsense. He told her how he’d use his tongue and teeth on her. How he would inhale her until they were both dizzy. He was dizzy now, so needy for her. “I’d make love to you now. Fuck you, screw you, whatever you wanted. I’d do it. Please let me, Gia. Tell me yes. Just a twitch so I know. Another smile.” He slowed his hand on himself, too close to exploding. She didn’t move and her breathing didn’t shift. Discouraged but aroused to the point of pain, he kissed her gently on the forehead, pulled away to lie on his back. With a few more efficient strokes of his fingers, he brought himself off, the spasms jolting his body, the come hitting his chest and shoulder. She whispered, “Will.” He’d clamped his eyes shut but looked over at her. No. She hadn’t moved. “Next time,” he told her as he wiped himself off, “that’ll be you. Next time I want you screaming. I love how much noise you make. I love the way you bite your lip. Can we do that again? I promise to make you come at least four times. That help you wake up? Because I’m not touching you again unless you wake the hell up.” “Will,” she whispered again.

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He put his palms on her shoulders and gave her a shake. “If you want all that, you have got to wake up. I’m not doing anything for you until I see the whites of your eyes.” But that was all he could get from her. He covered her body and his with a sheet, and tried to read the book—something with spies and bombs. But he couldn’t ignore her form in his bed. This was Gia, next to him—hard to stop staring at the details, the way her hair brushed her shoulders. When she moved and kicked off the covers, he paused before drawing them to admire her breasts, the slope from her ribs into her belly, the long lines of her hips, legs. She was composed of such graceful curves. And then other times he couldn’t concentrate on the book because she seemed too close to a coma. He had to check her now and then when it seemed her breath had slowed too much or she hadn’t moved enough. The day dragged on into evening. He managed to finish the book and turned on the television. “Hope you like baseball roundup,” he said, and wondered if she would want to watch. What would she listen to? At her apartment he’d looked for music CDs and she didn’t seem to have many. She probably had her music on an MP3 player. He watched news then an old movie until his stomach grumbled. Reluctant to leave her for long, he pulled on a pair of sweats and went into the kitchen to make a sandwich, or rather grab some bread and wrap it around a chunk of meat he’d cooked a couple of days earlier. If he was hungry maybe she was too. After he wolfed down his food, he found some canned soup, and zapped it in the microwave. He dipped a finger into it to make sure it was only lukewarm and carried it into the bedroom. “Gia. I’m going to try to feed you. If this doesn’t work, I might haul you to the hospital. This sleep is starting to spook me. I know, I know. It’s just Edgar. But damn, I don’t like it.” She didn’t move. He put the soup on the bedside table, sat on the bed and considered the matter for a while. “Let’s go for it,” he told her. Leaning on the wall, he hauled her against his chest, facing away from him. He held her between his bent legs so she wouldn’t fall over. Her warmth spread against his front reassured him, even though it made the attempt to bring the spoon to her mouth awkward. She didn’t gag or choke, simply swallowed the soup, though she still slept, or remained locked in whatever state this was. Sometimes it seemed deeper than sleep, sometimes he could swear she was awake. When she’d finished the soup, he put down the spoon, wrapped his arms and legs around her and held her, cradled with his body, just because he could. When his arousal became too distracting, he gently rolled her off his body onto the bed. “Okay. I’m giving you another hour,” he informed her. “Then I’m calling in the troops.”

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He padded around his apartment, lost in thought, when the sound of some sort of classical music came from her backpack. Her phone. He dove for it and said the first thing that came to mind. “Hello. This is Gia’s phone.” A man warily asked, “Who is this?” The voice was familiar. What’s his name, the ex. Carter. “I’m a friend of Gia’s. She’s asleep right now.” “What the hell? Why are you there if she’s asleep?” “She’s at my place.” He dropped trying to annoy him, fun though it was. This guy might be of some help. “Is this Carter?” “Yes. And you’re the construction worker?” “Yep.” “Well, I wanted to talk to her. We’re supposed to go out tomorrow. But maybe I should call back. Another time.” He sounded angry and perhaps hurt. Will sighed. “She’s sort of, uh, indisposed,” he said. “She’ll be okay but I wonder if you have her mother’s contact infor—” “Sick? What are you talking about? I’m coming over.” He hung up. Will heaved an even bigger sigh. It had to be done, so he pressed call back. “Fine if you come over, but I’m in the apartment above the garage. Don’t bug my landlady.” His turn to hang up before the other guy could answer. He went into the bedroom. “Time to get dressed,” he told Gia. “Your friend Carter is gonna visit. I love the idea of you naked in my bed. But him finding you? Might not be what you want.” Putting her clothes on her was a struggle, almost as exhausting as operating a jackhammer, although considerably more fun. He tried not to enjoy touching Gia, but that was an impossible demand. He decided to skip the bra and shoved it into her backpack. By the time Carter banged on his front door, Will had dressed her and himself and made it appear he’d been watching television for some time. Out in the living room. “Where is she?” Carter demanded. “Wait. I need to explain something.” Will stopped to consider what the fuck he could say without giving away facts she might not want Carter to know. “It looks weird. But several doctors have examined her and they’re satisfied that she’s going to be fine. So she doesn’t need to go to the hospital.” Carter shoved past him and barged into the bedroom. Will’s phone rang—Manda, so he stopped to answer it. “Has Sleeping Beauty awakened yet?” his sister asked. From the bedroom came an angry shout. “Jesus. You’ve given her roofies or something.” Carter was in the doorway, his cell pressed to his ear. “I’m calling the police.”

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“Gotta go, Manda.” “Who the fuck is that shouting?” “I’ll explain later.” He flipped the phone shut. He lunged for the phone too late—Carter had gotten through to the police and was babbling about date rape drugs. Oh boy. The first patrol car screeched to a halt outside the apartment less than five minutes later. Will retreated to the far corner with his phone but he couldn’t get Campbell or Marton to answer. He kept punching redial as the skinny young policeman stood with his hand on his gun’s holster watching him and listening to Carter’s diatribe about Rohypnol. The cop demanded to be taken to examine the victim. “You lead me, sir,” he told Carter. Glaring at Will he said, “You stay in sight but don’t come any closer, sir.” He donned latex gloves to examine Gia—which meant he gingerly touched her shoulder and shouted “Miss! Are you all right, ma’am?” at her a few times. He straightened and stepped away from the bed. He reached behind his back and Will knew the skinny young cop was ready and eager to slap on the cuffs. Will held up a hand. “Listen, Officer. Just wait. Let me call the doctors, okay?” At that moment, more sirens sounded and lights flashed against the walls through the open front door. Another cop car had pulled up, along with an ambulance. Along the quiet street, neighbors peered out windows. Will wondered if Ms. R. was all right. She should have been in the front of her house, demanding answers. Will let the skinny cop push him from the bedroom to the front room. “You stay there,” he ordered before he went to the doorway to holler down to his coworkers. Will sat on the couch, pushing redial. Campbell’s phone was busy. Marton’s went to voice mail. Heavy footsteps thumped up the stairs. Three more cops and two EMTs crowded into the small apartment. Carter and the cop both spoke at once, pointing at Will, the EMTs demanded to know where the patient was, the oldest cop told everyone to settle down. All talk stopped when a small sleepy voice interrupted the babble. “What’s going on?” Gia stood in the doorway, squinting around like a woman with a hangover. Uh oh. She’d shed her shirt again. But she didn’t seem to notice. “Ma’am,” yelped one of the EMTs, a woman. She rushed over to the couch, grabbed the crocheted throw Manda left behind when she moved out. The EMT wrapped Gia up, tying the throw in front when Gia made no move to hold onto it. Will hoped she’d have no memory of a room full of people gawking at her. Mike was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “Gia! God! What’s wrong with you? Sweetheart. Open your eyes. Tell me did you drink anything he gave you? What did that bastard do to you?”

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“Hi Mike.” She gave the faintest smile though her forehead was still creased and her voice sounded far away and disinterested. “No one’s done anything. Except Edgar. He did something to me. I have a headache. I’m going to sleep a little while longer. Thanks, Will. Just a while longer. No need to drag me to 12-D.” She pulled away from him and trailed back into the bedroom. “Edgar. That name again.” Mike Carter whipped around and glared at Will. “What the hell is that about?” The young skinny cop folded his arms and stood with his feet apart. “Care to tell us where this Edgar is?” The EMT gave a sudden hoot of laughter. “Uh oh, Drew. I bet I know. Looney tunes stuff like this means one thing around here.” The older gray-haired cop winced. “Shoulda known,” he said to the woman who was still laughing. “Shoulda goddamn well known. I think I know what they’re talking about. 12-Ds. You know what she meant, don’t you?” he frowned at Will. Will nodded. “Yes. And we’ve talked to Dr. Marton and Campbell.” “Good, I guess.” The cop looked at the EMT. “Right on schedule. It’s the right time of year for this crap. Spring and fall.” He sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets. Will realized he knew the man. Back in Will’s wilder days, Officer Drew had given him a lecture or two. The cop knew Ms. R. and had warned her against taking in stray teens. Water under the bridge, Will thought. “I’m glad you know about the 12-D thing,” he told them. Mostly he was delighted that on hearing it was Edgar, they looked only amused and not alarmed. Good to be told again the sleep wasn’t serious. “We’ve had about three alerts over the last week. This is a crazy, crazy town,” the EMT said. “Gotta love those 12-Ds. You say Marton and Campbell saw her recently?” she asked Will. He nodded. “A couple of hours ago.” “Great. Guess I’ll be going then. You can confirm this guy’s story with the docs and then this is all yours to report, lucky you,” she told Drew. She pushed at her sleeve to look at her watch and turned to the skinny young cop who stared at her, mouth slightly open. “This your first 12-D?” she asked him. He frowned and shifted from foot to foot. “Ma’am?” “You’re in for a treat.” The EMT grinned. “Break out the marshmallows for this story, Drew. And you, junior.” She nodded at the younger cop. “Maybe you should stop by the hospital because you’re never gonna believe it otherwise. Night all.” She gave her partner a little shove toward the door. One of them whistled as they thumped back down the stairs. “We’ll be going too,” one of the late-arriving cops said. “Leaving it in your hands, Drew,” the other one said as he left. 125

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“Gosh thanks,” the older man grumbled. Will relaxed. He wasn’t going to jail after all. He got up and tapped Officer Drew on the shoulder. “Would you explain to Carter? I’m going to check on the patient.” Drew took off his hat and ran a hand over the thinning gray hair. “Sure. Don’t get too cocky. I’m calling Marton or Campbell before I leave her here with you.” “Good luck,” Will said. “I couldn’t get either of them.” Drew gestured at the younger cop and Carter and waved at the couch. “You two, sit down and I’ll tell you what we know about 12-Ds, which is practically nada.” Gia had stripped off all her clothes again and lay on top of the covers. Will quietly closed the bedroom door then draped the wrap over her. He sat down on the edge of the bed and wrapped his hand lightly around her calf. “Thanks for waking up in time just now,” he said. “Pretty considerate of Edgar to install that along with this bit of crazy, huh.” She lay like the dead again, and her breath seemed unnaturally slow, but he felt less worried. Drew and the EMT had seemed as cavalier about Edgar as Marton and Campbell. “We’ll just wait this one out, okay? Nothing else we can do, but I promise to stop worrying so damn much. You can stay in my bed as long as you need to.” He smiled. “I might sack out on my couch though. Because lying near you and not getting to have my filthy way with you is driving me fucking nuts. Wonder how long I’m gonna want you this much?” He touched her cheek with his forefinger, traced the line of her jaw, the outline of her ear. “Years and years, I hope.”

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Chapter Fifteen Inside her head, Gia drifted back to the huge night filled with stars. She’d tried but it wasn’t time yet to return. Soon she’d fully inhabit her body again, she hoped. For a little while, she’d wondered why she would bother to wake up when she could swim and fly in that sky with the stars. And then she’d listened to Will. She could often fight her way to the surface to hear his words, even though her body usually refused to do much more than that. She knew Edgar’s spell sleep had a will of its own and she could only fully emerge to move and speak when it released her. When she did, she still felt as if she operated her body from a long way off. The times she could move and return to the world, her head burned and throbbed. Hadn’t he said it would hurt? This would wear off. She felt more certain of that than she was about the other spell. The one with Will—the one she liked. Remembering it, she longed to go back to that other world of hunger for delicious bodies. Will had lain next to her and talked. His voice had remained with her, words telling her in a low, urgent tone about all the things they’d do together, all the ways he’d touch her. Her body shimmered with the memory of lust. Soon, she wished she could tell him. But the spell didn’t release her long enough for that. Soon. And in the meantime, she’d be able to rest. Content as long as she could occasionally surface enough listen to Will, feel him lightly stroke her leg or face. I’m in love with him, she thought. That’s nice. She listened to his conversation, monologue of course—glad he sounded less worried, grateful that she’d been allow to move and speak enough to stop them from taking her away. They’d have put him in jail. Time drifted and when she could focus, Will was gone, and now Mike was at her side again. He’d been there before all frantic. At least he’d calmed down. He sat on the bed and spoke about how much he worried about her. His hand lay on her bare breast, kneading it, plucking her nipple. She would have a thing or two to say to him when she woke up. Why did she ever agree to go out with him again? What on earth had she ever seen him? She fought to the surface and won her voice for a moment. “Stop it,” she managed to croak and his hand was gone at once but so was her ability to speak or move. “Gia? Gia?” he said. She half listened to him pleading with her to wake up. When I wake up, it won’t be for you, she thought. I never woke up with you.

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But maybe she’d buy him a cup of coffee some day. Maybe they’d be friends, or friendly acquaintances, she amended. He was a pill. He went away at last. She wished Will would come back in and hold her—and the second she longed for his presence, a weight settled on the bed next to her. Even with her eyes closed she knew it was Will. He rested his hand gently on her head. After a minute, the television clicked on. He stretched out next to her again. She longed to roll over and beg him to hold her. Soon, she reminded herself. “There’s a Clint Eastwood movie on. One of the westerns. We’ll watch that,” he told her as if she could answer or even open her eyes. She wished she could at least open her eyes to see him, but they were glued shut again. His fingers combed through her hair, pushing it from her face. “I think I can keep from molesting you while Clint’s shootin’ up the bad guy. Maybe I can keep myself from grabbing you. God, Gia, I like having you here. I’d like it a lot better if you were awake and watching with me. But if you were awake, I bet we wouldn’t be looking at the television, huh?” I hate Clint Eastwood movies, she thought happily. We’ll have some good arguments about that. Later. Soon. She lay listening to the movie music and Will humming along until real sleep came again. I’m not going to panic. No point in that, she thought as she drifted away, but please let me return, Edgar. I’ve decided I want to go back. Will stayed up most of the night, checking on her, trying to fix his computer, only occasionally settling on the bed again. Around four, he lay down next to her just to rest. He didn’t mean to fall asleep. He was still haunted by the memory of waking up moving inside her body. And now, shit. When he started awake, he realized he clutched her, his arms firmly wrapped around her. Somehow he’d managed to shed his sweats and she was naked of course. Warm. His hard-on pushed against her rear. He rolled away and groaned. At least they weren’t in full-fuck mode. He sat up and looked down at her unmoving form. “Gia, I’m sorry.” He leaned close and kissed her mouth gently. “I didn’t mean to abuse you. But maybe I can just try waking you up again?” Nothing sexual, he promised her silently. He kissed her temple, ran his lips over the exquisite softness. He cupped her face and stared down. “’K, time to rise and shine,” he murmured as he pressed kisses to her closed eyelids. Nothing changed, not even her breathing. “You’re so lovely, Gia. If we’d met under normal circumstances, well… No, you aren’t in my league so I wouldn’t have even bothered. Selfishly speaking? I won’t be entirely annoyed with stupid Edgar. Once you wake up and smile at me.”

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He rubbed the corners of her mouth lightly with the pads of his thumbs. Her lips looked dry, so he licked them. “Getting sexual again. Sorry,” he murmured, his mouth nearly touching hers so he could feel the steady breath on his mouth. He nearly jumped out of his skin when her lips parted and her tongue touched his mouth. “Gia!” He pulled back. She stared up at him, heavy lidded but her eyes were open. “Gia!” he whispered. “You’re awake.” No shit, Sherlock, but relief made him stare at her, a goofy grin on his face. “I want more kisses. But first. The bathroom. I’ll be right back,” she said, and slowly twisted to the edge of the bed and stood. He sprang to his feet. “Do you need help?” She shook her head and wobbled a bit. “Just point me to the bathroom.” He walked with her. “I’m waiting right here, outside the door in case you have a relapse or something. Don’t lock the door. I’m coming in if I hear any thumps.” Like a body toppling over. On the other side of the door, she gave an audible yawn. A big, normal yawn. “I am fine. But now I’ve come this far, I might take a shower.” Will rubbed his face and smiled with relief. The smile faded as he tried to recall the state of his bathroom. Not perfect but it had been worse. “You could join me,” she called. “Get started on that list of things you want to do to me. With me. Wasn’t showering together one of them?” She’d heard all that? He whacked his forehead with his palm and groaned as he thought about the detailed obscene plans he’d outlined, speaking to her sleeping body, trying to rouse it. Hey, but she didn’t sound annoyed. The sound of the shower decided it for him. It brought back that day in her apartment when he’d taken a shower. Their first time together, when he’d fought the attraction. What a waste of time and he wouldn’t even try now. He opened the door to the bathroom. “Thank you. I’d love to accept your invitation.” They went at each other in the shower. She pulled him close, wrapped one leg behind his. He stumbled and nearly fell until he hauled her up into his arms. Gasping, with water dripping down their bodies and faces, they kissed and kissed and writhed, trying to get close. Her body had felt like heavy clay all those hours but now his touch brought her back and she was filled with life and need. Wet and slippery, they nearly drowned as they tried to swallow each other whole. More kisses. When he moaned, she felt it to the soles of her feet and knew she needed him inside her. Now. Trying to find the condom, she slid on water-soaked floor—they hadn’t paid attention to closing the curtain.

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He’d turned off the water, then was right behind her and caught her before she landed on the ground. But then his cock was pressing urgently, rhythmically against her bottom. She handed him the condom and leaned over. “Already? You’re ready?” he gasped. “Uh. More than.” She circled against his erection. She braced herself on the small counter and he sank into her, as wild and out-ofcontrol as any time they’d joined. She only was need and hunger, so had no interest in anything but him, touching her, inside her, filling her just a little too much. After she came, she collapsed, panting, to the floor. In a very cold puddle. She groaned and sat up. “It’s always going to be crazy between us. Wild monkey sex, always. Feels funny to complain about…” She smiled as she remembered the sound he’d made as he’d pushed so deep inside her. “Okay, I take it back. I’m not complaining.” He stood over her, a towel in his hand. He squatted and wiped her body with the towel, though she was nearly dry, all water burned off by their heat. “It isn’t crazy now.” She looked between his powerful thighs. He already had the start of a new erection. “Let’s go to my bed. I’ll show you some slow loving,” he said. Oh, yes, he’d mentioned that one the night before too. “Backrub,” she recalled. “And licking. All over.” She shivered at the thought and the heat knifed through her even though it had been less than five minutes since her orgasm. “Yes. That’s a plan.” His grin was wicked and hot but he didn’t sprawl on top of her. He straightened and held out his hand so she could haul herself up. Holding her hand, he led her back to his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. She sat next to him. Their bare thighs touched but no other parts of their bodies made contact. She could feel his heat though. And it called to her, but she waited. Slowly he leaned over and pressed tentative, light kisses on her neck and cheek. His hand touched her hair, stroked her. Gia needed more. She twisted on the bed and took his face in her hands to find his mouth. At the last minute she remembered—thinking. Not just feeling. So she brushed her lips to his and settled in for an exploratory kiss. A soft one so she could feel the shape of his mouth and his appreciative puff of breath on her lips when she pulled back to look into his eyes. “Yes,” he said and touched her cheek, exploring her face with his fingertips. She wasn’t going to jump him but she definitely needed more kissing. Gia got onto her knees and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back. “Nothing wild. Yet,” he whispered before lowering her to the bed. He kept his promise and delivered long, slow kisses. When she pushed against him, mindless, whimpering, he pulled back. “Not yet. We’re experimenting, right?”

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She laughed, breathless. “I really like this experiment.” He touched her everywhere, slowing when she gasped with pleasure, but taking his time with places like the back of her knees, the inside of her thighs, her hip, her bellybutton. Kissing and touching. Talking and occasionally laughing. “The experiment has worked,” she said, busy returning his touches with her own exploration. She enjoyed the contrast of hard muscle under the impossibly soft skin of his inner arms. And then with a lighter stroke, farther up his arm, she discovered he was ticklish. She won that struggle, but only briefly. Soon Will had her down on her back and was straddling her. He held both of her wrists over her head with one hand and with the other, discovered her ticklish spots. But then his tickling turned into exploration and he stopped battling her writhing and let his hands discover her collarbone, her sides and her breasts again. Gia felt the moment he stopped fighting the desire, too. He allowed the release of some strong restraint that didn’t fly away dangerously, the control simply slid off his body and mind—she still had enough of that strange connection with him to feel it. They sank into a kiss and then another kiss. They rolled together and she rubbed her body to his. When he finally entered her, lying on top of her, supporting himself on his arms, he reached for some physical control again and she did too. They moved slowly. He watched her, smiling, as he pushed deep and then deeper. She grasped his hand in hers, laced their fingers, raised his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles and sucked on his fingers. They moved deliberately. He slid all the way into her and stopped. All the way inside her, he waited a moment before moving almost out of her body. “Hot and tight,” he whispered. “But more than that. Oh. God.” He groaned and she raised her legs so he went deeper. “We’re heading into hot-monkey zone,” she warned. “Yes.” He paused midstroke. Made it a question. “Yes?” He waited, tantalizingly close to pushing to that lovely spot where she needed him. “Yes, yes,” she breathed, and with her heels pushed him down into her. “God. Harder, please.” This time as he pumped into her, thrusting harder, he kept his eyes open and watched her face. She knew because she stared right back into those gorgeous eyes until the sensation became too much and she had to close her eyes and had to push her body up to his. Afterward, they lay on the bed, arms and legs entwined. “We have done bathrooms and bedrooms.” She sighed and pressed her nose to his chest so she could inhale his scent. “Next up, the kitchen,” he said. “Or maybe the living room.”

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“Hey, yeah. Last night didn’t you promise something with chocolate syrup?” she asked. “And something else with feathers?” She snuggled in closer. “Later, I guess. I should make a list of your promises so we don’t forget anything.” Under the arm she’d slung across his chest, his body tightened. “Whoa, Gia. You really did hear me.” His voice was strained, thick with concern. “You must have been terrified. Knowing what was going on but not able to respond. Locked-in syndrome.” She raised her hand because she could and grabbed his hand to pull his wrist to her mouth. Warm, delicious flesh. She felt his pulse beat under her lips. “Once or twice I was frightened. Mostly I was annoyed. Actually, when I wasn’t listening to you, I was distracted because I had a lot to look at.” “What were you looking at?” “I don’t know. The universe? Or just me?” She shrugged. “It was something new and I don’t have a clue how to explain it. Was it some kind of entertaining show that Edgar set off? Or did I have that in there all along?” She decided she sounded totally ridiculous. With a sideways glance at him, she said, “If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own brain. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with!” “Wait a sec. I got it. That’s the line in that old movie Ms. R. made me watch. Except no. You’re supposed to find what you want in your own backyard. Not your brain.” “Okay, quiz time. What movie?” “The Wizard of Oz.” She kissed his hand. “Right. I forgive you for the cowboy movie. Anyway, I found what I want in my front yard. He was inside a machine tearing up my street.” Will slanted over her for a kiss, sweet, soft and with only a hint of that endless need. He even pulled away and continued the conversation. “I want to know if old Edgar is the wizard or the witch.” “Or he could be Glinda the Good,” she said. Will chuckled and stretched out on his back. Gia, settled next to him and said, “I think he’s more like the tornado. Whatever gets into his path is swept along but he didn’t usually pay much attention.” “A tornado with a warped sense of humor. “ “Yeah. Dr. Marton, the squirrel,” she said. She scooted closer, put a leg over him and enjoyed how the hair on his leg rubbed her inner thigh. He rested his hand on her hip. “Poor old Dave. See? Edgar’s a jerk.” “He’s not a nice guy, that’s for sure. But…” “But what?” He yawned. “I just don’t think the usual standards apply to Edgar.” “Huh.” He closed his eyes. She waited for him to keep speaking but Will’s breath soon slowed and his body relaxed. Made sense that he wouldn’t stay awake. Nearly

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every time she had risen to the surface of her sleep he’d been talking to her, cajoling her to wake up. He’d gotten no rest, fretting about her. So she snuggled into his arms, enjoying the sleepy noise he made as he hugged her. Edgar’s influence hadn’t done terrible things to her. Sure, she still wanted Will too much—her attraction to him wasn’t natural—but she reveled in that sensation. And the long night of strange deep sleep that came straight from Edgar’s eyes…perhaps it wasn’t a malicious act. She suspected it was even a gift. Whatever power she’d seen in his eyes had been too much for any person to comprehend without trouble. Now it was just a dreamlike memory after all those hours of sleep. Nice of him to grant her sleep to recover. She suspected it was a rare impulse. Gia might have been a beetle Edgar had knocked upside down and with a rare benevolence reached over to turn it right-side up. Usually he flicked such things away. After a few minutes, she slid from the bed. It was either leave or attack Will again. The pressure of her desire grew but the poor man needed his sleep. She got dressed, and as she pulled on her running pants she noticed the sore muscles of her inside thighs. Energetic lovemaking or strange spell, she wondered. From inside her backpack her cell phone played Beethoven. She pulled it out and frowned at the display. Mike. She’d never erased his number from the memory because of the months of pining for him. She wished she could blame that on some sort of malevolent force. Maybe she could. Gia let the phone ring a few times, not wanting to answer, but then she recalled he’d shown up here. Shouting at Will, pleading with her. He’s been worried. “Hi, Mike.” She tried for wide awake and enthusiastic. “What’s new?” “Gia! Gia, you’re all right. I’m so relieved.” “Yeah, it was just the strange stuff.” She remembered he’d accused Will of drugging her. “It really had nothing to do with Will.” “A policeman explained some of the weird activities that have gone on around town. I wondered about that. Boy, I never would have guessed you’d be susceptible to that sort of thing.” For a moment she wished she could sic Edgar on Mike. Make him think he was a potted geranium or something. But never mind. She was too happy to get into an argument. “Yup, I am, as it turns out. How’s it going?” “Great. Especially since we’re meeting up later today.” The silence that followed seemed awkward, as if he knew what she’d say. “I don’t think so, Mike.” She tried to sound regretful. “It’s that construction worker, isn’t it?” He didn’t sound surprised. “I hope so. I’m going to convince Will that we’re made for each other. I hope we can ride off happily into the sunset.” “You can live with him over the garage.” Mike turned to full-on sour. 133

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She wasn’t going to follow him. “Sure. Or he can come to my place.” “Has it occurred to you that he might be interested in your money?” “No. Because he has no clue that I have any. Are you trying to piss me off? I think…” She paused. “No, I just remembered you were tweaking my boob while I was out of it last night. Pretty reprehensible, don’t you think?” He stuttered something about how he was trying to wake her up. “Mike? I’m awake now. And I’m saying goodbye.” “Wait, Gia. It’s not just that you’re rejecting me. I can live with that. I’m worried about you. How long have you known this guy? Where’d he come from?” “Long enough. But thanks for worrying. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She slid the phone shut. Will stood in the doorway of his bedroom, grinning. “Riding off into the sunset. The two of us. No Clint Eastwood going it alone?” She nodded, trying to decide if she wanted to go to him or admire the view. He’d pulled on his sweats, but they rode low, so that was all right. Nothing wrong with the sight of hipbones, and she liked that faint trail of hair from his bellybutton. His eyes were heavy. “So that asshole was playing with your breast? If I’d known I would have decked him.” “Never mind Mike.” She waved a dismissive hand. “We have to resolve something. Going off into the sunset, which of us should be Clint?” The issue of watching versus touching Will was decided when he ambled over to her and gathered her into his arms. “Me. I’d be Clint,” he said. “Not just because I have the necessary plumbing but I also happen to own a pair of motorcycle boots that would look fabulous with spurs.” “Maybe I have a pair of those too.” He made a rude noise. “My boots are better. So when you were talking to the jackass, you said I didn’t have a clue. What don’t I know about?” “Money. I have some.” She nuzzled his neck. “I’m not exactly a trust-fund baby but my grandparents left me some.” He was silent for a moment then said, “Yeah, I figured out there had to be money somewhere.” “When?” Had he been sneaking around her checkbooks or something? She pushed him away, then changed her mind and kept her hands on his arms. “How’d you figure that out?” He smiled. “Dude, it’s not hard. I saw your condo and you weren’t freaked about eviction even though you didn’t have a job.” She should have known it was something obvious. “Does it bother you?”

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“Nope.” His grin widened. “Not even that Mike thinks I’m after you for the money. Don’t tell him otherwise, okay?” “Are you after me?” She ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders and snuggled close again. “Hell yeah.” “For the money?” “Naw. Of course not. For the sex.” He kissed her long and slow. When he pulled back his brow was furrowed. Puzzled or worried, she didn’t know which. “What’s up?” she asked. “I still want to kill Mike. What a bastard, playing with your breast when you couldn’t stop him. And when I saw you collapse yesterday, I wanted to kill Edgar.” He shook his head. “That’s when I got the final clue about you. And me.” “Great. So you decide we could be a good idea because you wanted to kill a couple of people.” “We’re talking caveman instincts, here. Don’t laugh at them. I’ve had those instincts about you for a while, woman. They’re not as strange or interesting as the nonsense Edgar put us through, but they’re just as serious. I only wanted to wait until the Edgar stuff faded out before I dragged you off to my cave.” She slid her fingers through his hair, trying to get all of it to stand on end. When that didn’t work, she smoothed it down. “Listen,” she said at last. “I don’t think all of the symptoms have gone away for me. I mean, I still want you more than I’ve wanted anything. More than I’ve lusted after other men, certainly. My legs go weak with desire and we’ve done it a few times today.” He cleared his throat. “Whoa. I can live with that. You might wear me down, but I’ll try to make the sacrifice.” She rested her forehead against his bare chest. “We’re switching roles here. I was the one who was full speed ahead. But that was just about the sex, see. Fun. This is the potential for something bigger. And I don’t want it based on something that’s not real.” “I’m not worried,” he said cheerfully. “If the sex part fades, we’ll be able to put on clothes and get out of the house more. Long walks on the beach, movies, that kind of crap. Why are you thumping your head against me?” She pulled back to study his face. “I’m a little worried because you’re suddenly such a different man. How do I know you won’t suddenly start trying to run away again?” “I won’t. Just ask Ms. R. She’ll tell you I don’t run away anymore.” “Jeez, I’m not going to check your references.” She thumped against him one more time and sighed. “I can learn to wait and see. It’s sort of the way these things go, huh?” “Yup. But there is a problem. We might not get out of the house for years— although it might be fun to get naked in the great outdoors.”

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He sounded serious again. Intense, as if there really was a problem. Gia touched his cheek, tracing the line of his smile. “What do you mean?” He stared into her eyes, distracted. “You ever make love outside?” “No. Until I met you, I’d only done it in a bed. Not so much as a bathroom floor.” The idea of being naked under the sky intrigued her. Gia flashed on an image she’d conjured before—tanned Will in a tropical paradise, lounging in a hammock. She shelved the thought. “C’mon, Will. What do you mean ‘there’s a problem’?” “While the EMTs and Campbell were looking you over, Marton came over to talk with me. He was trying to make me feel better, I think.” He gave a halfhearted laugh. “I must have looked like a wild man. Anyway, Marton said again that there’ve been enough people who’ve had second encounters with Edgar, that they know those second Edgar run-ins don’t have the same staying power as the first ones. Marton said he was certain you’d wake up, no problem, but he gave me a kind of a warning. Sometimes the aftereffects of those first run-ins don’t entirely go away. Or at least not since the 12-Ds figured out that Edgar was responsible and they started recording the incidents a couple of years ago.” “Only a couple of years?” Will nodded. “I thought he…well, I thought he’d been around a long time.” Edgar—or at least his power—had felt as old as the rocks and sky. “That’s how long they’ve studied him. Anyway, Marton told me that he’d bumped into Edgar months ago and only just that one time. All of the symptoms are gone, except one. The doctor still has a thing for acorns. He keeps a stash of them in his desk drawer to nibble on. Even after all these months, he craves them.” She laughed. “We should be so lucky to have some of our symptoms linger.” “I think we are that lucky. And maybe it has nothing to do with Edgar.” He bent his head to give her a deep, long kiss. She tugged his hand, steering him to the couch. “Don’t want to waste a second of luck, however long it lasts.” Gia dropped onto the cushions and pulled him with her.

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Epilogue The trees were bare by the time he returned to the site of the twins. He frowned over the finished construction with no sign of the workers. He disliked change, even when it meant a return to quiet existence. Irksome enough to make him wish he could cause the newly laid concrete sidewalks and granite curbs buckle, but he’d always specialized in another kind of trouble. “Hey! Excuse me!” A door squeaked open and a female voice shouted. A young dark-haired woman had come out of the building and walked toward him. She didn’t look into his face, but she saw him, no doubt about that. She waved and smiled. And continued to approach him. He recognized her now— the female half of his twins. And she was the one who’d looked too long at him. She knew about his power but she didn’t stop approaching. What was her problem? He held himself ready to turn her into a cat or perhaps make her sleep again, but as he considered which curse to attempt, he realized she still wasn’t looking into his face. Now that was a nuisance. “I have something for you.” The female held out a bag. He looked into it without touching the bag or what lay inside. It held a fluffy blue cap. “They know you wear a red cap,” she said. “Doctors know about you.” “What do you want?” he growled. He’d never had to try a third time, never had to, and he wished she’d look up so he could make an attempt. Doctors, she said. He knew about them. He’d seen them at work for many years. Useless creatures and he’d heard that they wanted to find him. The smile faltered and she shook the bag. “Well. I sort of want to thank you.” He scowled down at the hat but didn’t touch it. The thing looked warm. What sort of trick did she wish to play on him? “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met Will. And I’m grateful for that.” Eyes still focused on the ground, she pulled the hat from the bag and held it out to him. “And I know you’re…” He waited, abnormally patient, as she searched for a word. She didn’t understand the first thing about him, but this was at least as interesting as pacing his territory. He’d take a rare break from his work. “I know you’re important,” she finished. Eh, maybe she did know a bit more than most. He waited to hear what title she’d give him. Demigod? Wizard? Goblin? Elf? Demon? He liked hearing the different titles they’d given him over the years. But she remained silent. Important was good. Better than he usually got these days. He grabbed the hat. “Huh,” he said and turned away.

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“Goodbye! And thank you. Again,” she called as he strode off. She’d thanked him, twice. His mouth twisted. He wasn’t sure he liked gratitude. It brought them closer and he cherished his distance from the creatures in his domain. Cursed doctors, he thought, and that helped bring him back to his normal, curmudgeonly state. It was essential to maintain the delicate balance in his dispassionate ire. He took off the red hat, jammed the blue one on then carefully replaced the red on top. It was his banner and warning to any who’d cross his path. Some of them had an inkling of his power after all, he thought, happy for the first time today. He’d try that twin thing again sometime. Funny that the arousal created by the sight of a woman’s body a month ago had added an interesting variation. At the corner, he hawked a satisfying loogie into the street and eyed the traffic. Yes, the variation might make the job more interesting. Maybe sometime again someone would thank him. A small hard object dropped on his head. Half an acorn. He looked up into the oak tree and a squirrel chittered at him. The little pest met his eyes. Edgar had occasionally enjoyed allowing people to believe they were animals. “Turnabout is fair play,” he told the creature. “You be human.” Perfect. And weren’t those doctors a nuisance? Pests like this pest. “Be a doctor too,” he told it. The animal froze in horror as consciousness flooded its little rodent brain. Its excited chatter sounded closer to human speech now, and Edgar could almost hear it wondering what it was doing perched up in a tree. Ah, and watching a squirrel attempt to take its own pulse could make even him smile. Just what his corner of the world needed. A bit of the funny stuff. The sun was too far down in the sky, warning him he was behind on the circuit of his territory. He fished the nearly empty greasy sack of French fries from his coat pocket and munched contentedly as he strolled.

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About the Author Summer Devon is the alter ego of Kate Rothwell. Kate invented Summer’s name in the middle of a nasty blizzard whilst talking to her sister, who longed to visit some friends in Devon, England, so the name Summer Devon is all about desire. Kate/Summer lives in Connecticut, USA, and also writes books—usually gaslight historicals—as Kate. The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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