Nicky held his arms out, crouching a little as if he expected me to attack him. “Whoa, whoa—it’s just me.”
“I saw a woman come in here,” I barked at him. “Where the hell did she go?”
He shook his head. “There’s no one else here, honey. It’s just you and me.”
I glanced around the closet again, searching the racks of clothing still hanging in neatly color-coordinated sections, fully expecting to see someone peeking out from between cocktail dresses or silk blouses. “B-but . . . I swear I saw someone. . . .”
Nicky came to me and took hold of my shoulders. “There’s no one here,” he assured me, enunciating each word as his gaze locked with mine. “Just you. And me.”
I felt a little tug between us, that initial hitch that told me a connection was starting. But it was different from anything I’d felt before. Instead of originating deep inside my psyche, this one started in the center of my chest, pulling me closer to Nicky. Perplexed by the new sensation, I tried to resist, but it jerked me back with a sharp tug, making me stumble forward and right into his arms.
“Oh, God,” I mumbled, clumsily trying to extricate myself from his hold. “I’m so sorry.”
He chuckled. “Forget about it,” he said with a shrug. “I thought maybe you were just taking me up on my offer.”
I frowned up at him. “Your offer?”
He hit me with that grin of his and spread his arms wide, gesturing toward himself with his hands. “Throwing yourself into my arms?”
I rolled my eyes, trying my damnedest not to blush to the roots of my hair but probably failing miserably. “Oh, that offer.”
He chuckled, bringing a sleepy smile to my lips as I tried to stifle a yawn. “I think it’s time you got some sleep,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me out to the bedroom. “It’s been one hell of a night.”
The presence of his arm around my shoulders and the warmth of his body so close to mine was making it hard to concentrate—and breathe—so the best I could manage in response was a slight nod.
“Feel free to help yourself to some of Juliet’s clothes,” he said, gesturing absently toward the heavy dresser against the wall. “You’re about the same size she was, so you should be able to find something. You’ve got to be freezing in those wet pajamas.”
Oh, not as much as you might think. . . .
I snuggled into his hold ever so slightly, and to my surprise his arm tightened, curling me into him for a brief hug before he released me. “As soon as you change, I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms. I never liked this room much.”
I glanced up at him, wondering what about this room he disliked, but his expression had gone dark. Asking any questions was clearly not an option.
After watching him leave the room and close the door, I set about finding something warm and dry to put on. I had to shake my head at Nicky’s proclamation that I was pretty much the same size as Juliet. She’d been five foot eight and all legs. And I was . . . well . . . not. I managed to find a pair of yoga pants that had probably been capris on Juliet and so luckily didn’t drag the ground when I pulled them on. Finding a shirt, on the other hand, proved to be more of a challenge. I pulled out several cotton baby-doll shirts that were so tiny I quickly tossed them aside.
“Good lord,” I grumbled, “didn’t this woman have any boobs? Criminy! What grown woman wears an extra small anything?”
I finally found a plain pink T-shirt that had probably been Juliet’s kicking around shirt for those days when she was feeling a little bloaty and didn’t want to wear her clothing as a second skin. It fit me well enough, accentuating my hourglass curves without looking like it’d been painted on.
I took a look at myself in the mirror. The outfit didn’t scream Do me now, Nicky, but at least I wasn’t soaking wet anymore. But, dear God, my hair was a train wreck. I quickly ran my hands through my ringlets a few times, trying to smooth them a little, but it didn’t do a lot of good. I finally huffed and threw my hands up in despair. Oh, well. What the hell did it matter? He’d already seen me at my most disheveled and hadn’t run away screaming in horror.
Nicky was leaning against the wall when I came out of the room, and when he looked up and met my gaze I felt that odd little tug again and gasped. His intense amber eyes took me in at a glance, and an emotion I couldn’t quite place passed across his face.
Great.
Seeing me in Juliet’s clothes had to be stirring up all kinds of emotions he’d been trying to bury down deep these last couple of years. Awesome.
“Feel better?” he asked, his smile strained.
“Just exhausted,” I admitted.
“How’s the arm?”
I glanced down at it, surprised to find it wasn’t throbbing any longer. “Uh . . . fine, actually.” I quickly unwrapped it and rotated my wrist, testing the joint. It was completely healed without even a lingering ache. “Weird. There’s no way it should’ve healed that fast.”
“Of all the crazy shit that’s gone down tonight,” Nicky drawled, “I’d say your wrist healing faster than usual rates pretty low.”
I stifled another yawn. “Point taken.”
He jerked his head toward the end of the hall. “Come on, it looks like you’re ready to drop. Let’s get you all tucked in.”
Was he serious? He was actually going to tuck me in?
I didn’t even bother taking a look around the room Nicky led me to. I was so freaking tired I wouldn’t have cared if the bed was made of nails as long as I had a place to catch a few hours of sleep.
As soon as I climbed in, he pulled the sheet and duvet up over my chest. “There’s a bathroom across the way,” he said. “And I’m down the hall if you need me. Third door on the left.”
I had a million questions I wanted to ask Nicky—not the least of which was what he’d found out about Dracula’s whereabouts and what he planned to do to take him out. But work would have to wait. The only question I could form coherently suddenly seemed much more imperative. “Why didn’t you share a room with Juliet?” I asked around a yawn, sleep deprivation affecting my ability to keep my curiosity in check.
“She needed her own space.” He made a noise that was something between a grunt and a laugh. “Can you imagine? In a house this size?”
“I can’t imagine ever wanting to spend the night away from you,” I muttered, sleep descending quickly.
I closed my eyes and curled onto my side, reaching blindly to pull the duvet up under my chin and finding Nicky’s hand instead. My heart gave a little hitch at the contact and I knew I probably should’ve pulled my hand away, but my eyelids were too heavy to open, my limbs too heavy to move.
To my surprise, Nicky’s fingers curled around mine. I felt him smooth my hair with his free hand, then twist one of my ringlets around his finger, letting the hair slide across his skin as he released the curl. And just as sleep rose to claim me, he pressed a chaste kiss to my temple and whispered, “Only sweet dreams tonight, doll.”
Chapter Six
The dream always started the same. I was sitting on the little stone bench in my parents’ garden, my black patent leather shoes gleaming, my pale blue pinafore pristine and crisp. I was swinging my feet and humming cheerily while eating my breakfast—porridge, not the curds and whey mentioned in my nursery rhyme—when a particularly intricate and beautiful spiderweb nestled among the rosebushes caught my eye. I set aside my bowl and hopped down to go investigate. The dew from the cool spring morning still clung to the gossamer threads, glistening in the sunshine. I was grinning, delighted with my find, as I leaned closer.
I didn’t even see the spider until it was right before my eyes. It was an enormous, fat, furry black spider the size of my fist. I’d heard of these monstrous arachnids, the kind witches in Make Believe used in their potions, but I’d never seen one. My childish curiosity urged me to take a closer look, so I bent forward until my nose nearly touched the web.