Even though she thought the whole idea of the legend was silly, Caira took a moment to imagine what it would be like if the man in the portrait was her true love. Closing her eyes she fantasized about how wonderful it would be if he came to her, in person. His strong hands cushioning her in his arms. Chest against chest, skin against skin. His full, sensuous mouth taking possession of hers while she touched the hard planes of his magnificent body. His long midnight hair sweeping against her naked flesh as he laid her out and buried himself deep in her welcoming sheath.
Lust swamped her as she played out the provocative mental image. Her breasts tightened in bliss and she reached out and cupped them in her palms, gently massaging and brushing her nipples, attempting to relieve the ache.
A needy, not quite satisfied sigh caught in the back of her throat as she stood and walked closer to the portrait. Rocking on her heels, she fingered the aged canvas. Her hand traced the pattern of his face and surfed the outline of his jaw. There was something in his eyes. Something hauntingly familiar. As her fingers glided over his sculpted chest, she could feel a heavy, sexual pressure building in her body. Her toes curled, her heart pounded, and her skin came alive. Her entire being reacted as though she was touching the man himself. She bit her lip as a rush of heat moistened her silky pajama bottoms.
Good Lord, she had to pull herself together and find a way to get over her strange fascination with the handsome, mysterious man that watched over her every night. A man who continually invaded her thoughts, even in sleep.
He was always with her.
In her.
In her head, her heart, and her soul. It was like she was waiting. Always waiting. But for what, she didn’t know.
She inched back and steepled her fingers. No wonder all her dates and relationships had ended in disaster. How could any guy possibly live up to the rich, erotic fantasy life she’d created with the sexy man from her portrait?
Returning to her recliner, she flicked on her lamp and propped opened her book. Soft rays of warm light danced off her silver locket and drew her attention. Heat seemed to radiate off it and electrically charge the air around her.
She gathered it into her hand and turned it over to see the incantation. The silver felt warm to the touch. Rubbing her thumb in a circular motion over the engraving, she concentrated on the words.
No time, no earth, no sky, or place shall ever thwart our way. To right a wrong, to change the past, I bring you back to stay.
Of course the whole idea of the legend was ridiculous. And how could the old lady possibly think she was a princess from the past? A princess. She resisted the urge to throw her head back and laugh. Instead, she threaded her fingers through her hair and rolled her eyes heavenward. The idea was simply ludicrous. And with the so-called Lover’s Locket draped around her neck, Caira was presented with the perfect opportunity to prove it. Ignoring the sudden pounding of her heart, she moistened her lips, drew a fueling breath, and read the inscription out loud.
Holding the locket tightly in her fist, she waited. Seconds turned into minutes. The only sound in the room was coming from the antique grandfather clock ticking in the alcove behind her. Another unique piece handed down through history.
She glanced out her open living-room window, watching the leaves on the oak tree bristle in the warm night breeze, and continued her wait. The streetlamp cast golden shadows on her walls.
Nothing.
Silence.
No true love appeared. No Keeper of Darkness threatened her life. She had to admit, she was rather grateful for that. She’d much rather cuddle up with her book than battle the forces of evil, she mused.
She shook her head and laughed at the foolishness of it all. It was well past time to forget her bizarre encounter with the strange lady from The Magic Boutique.
Pushing herself deeper into her cushiony chair, she opened her book and proceeded to read the first line. “What makes you think you’re not the original owner, Bella?” The book fell from her fingers. Her heart pounded like thunder in her ears and her mouth went suddenly dry.
She squeezed her eyes shut then blinked them back into focus. She scooped the book up, flipped to the beginning, and concentrated on reading the passage again. This time the line read as it should. Obviously the old lady had shaken her up more than she cared to admit and now her mind was playing tricks on her.
She diligently tried to shrug off the gypsy-woman’s warning and force her focus back on her story. A short while later her eyes grew heavy and soon fatigue overtook her. She felt herself slip away.
“Caira.”
The voice was soft, hypnotizing, pulling her awake. She sensed a movement in the shadows. A gasp caught in her throat as the air around her seemed to stir with energy.
“Caira. Wake up,” he commanded in a gentle voice.
As she took in the hazy vision before her, she had difficulty remembering how to breathe. Although he moved in the deep shadows of the room, she instinctively knew it was him.
Zarek.
Her pulse jumped in her throat. Excitement coiled in her veins.
She drew a breath and said calmly, “I’m awake.” Of course she wasn’t awake. She’d obviously fallen asleep while reading. She wasn’t about to admit that to him, or herself, and risk the possibility of spoiling a perfectly good, erotic dream.
His voice was like a rough caress. “Caira come to me.” He held his arms out to her.
She reacted to the intensity she heard in his deep sexy tone. Her body buzzed to life as she rose from her recliner and crossed the room, slipping into the dark shadows with him. There appeared to be a highly charged, glowing blue aura of energy radiating from his magnificent, muscular body as he stood over her.
He wrapped his thick arms around her small waist and crushed her body to his. She sucked in air, raised her gaze to his, and gripped his shirt. His steel gray eyes blazed with heat and hunger. The way he looked at her with such need and desire made her insides quiver.
He slid his fingers through her hair and brought her lips close to his. A smile touched his mouth as his eyes moved over her features with tender warmth, appraising her.
As he breathed his words over her face, she could taste the sweetness of his mouth. “I have waited centuries to hold you like this.” The heat in his voice licked over her skin. Her body liquefied under his smoldering gaze, forcing her to lock her knees to avoid collapsing.
Sexual energy leapt between them as she arched forward and pressed her breasts into his firm chest. He wedged her legs open with his knee, her pussy pressed hard against his thigh. She began trembling, with need, urgency, and utter excitement. His thick cock curved her stomach inward as she leaned into him.
“I want you, Caira.”
“Then take me.” Nestling closer, she gyrated her hips and rubbed her pelvis against his leg. “I am ready,” she added. A surge of heat rushed through her veins when his cock throbbed in response to her bold touch and words. “I’ve always been ready, Zarek.”
She’d dreamt of him before, of course. But it had never been like this. It had never felt so real, so vivid. Her senses seemed to be amplified. Everything about her was heightened, even the hairs on the back of her neck were alert. She didn’t need to touch him to know how his hard muscles would feel beneath her fingers. Nor did she need to draw a breath to bask in his arousing, heady male scent. Instinctively she knew his skin would taste sweet and salty, and at the first delicious touch of her tongue to his naked flesh, she’d lose herself in him, body and soul.