All in the house seemed asleep, and the breeze blew in cool from his open window. Adam wasn’t sure how long he slept, but as a cramp in his leg woke him, something moved across the moonlight at the window.
Alarm jolted him full awake. The thin outline of a man reached the inside door leading to the hallway. Adam realized his rifle was several feet away and the intruder would be deep into the house before he could fetch it. Bolting from his chair, Adam slammed into the figure, thinking he had to save those sleeping.
The intruder and Adam rolled across the floor, the figure not taking as much force to topple as Adam suspected.
“I’ve got you!” Adam rolled on top of the man he suspected must be their unwelcome guest or someone Mole sent to cause havoc. “I’ve caught Nance’s ghost.”
“Get off me.” Nick fought to free herself, slugging at him more with anger than any need to defend herself. “I’m not a ghost any more than you are.”
“Nick?”
She gave up her struggle. “Of course it’s me. Let me go, you idiot.”
“But… I thought you were asleep hours ago.” He rolled off her. “I had no idea it was you. Nance said something about someone coming into the house late at night, and I thought…”
Nick raised to one elbow. “Are you sure you weren’t just attacking me for the second time in twenty-four hours? Tell me, Doctor, is this going to be a frequent habit like some kind of twitch you’re developing?”
“I wasn’t attacking you.” He felt the fool, for he had attacked her. “Are you hurt?” If he’d knocked Bergette off her feet, she’d have probably shattered like a china doll.
“You’re lucky I saw you in the chair. My mistake was in thinking you were still asleep.” Nick rubbed at her knee. “And it’d take more than the likes of one, Yank, to hurt me.”
“Why am I lucky?” he asked.
“Because when I stepped through the window and noticed you, I slipped my knife in its case. Otherwise a second after you touched me, a blade would have been tickling your backbone through your belly button.”
Adam tried to see her face to decide if she was kidding. He slid his hand along her leg and felt the holster. “You’re armed?”
“I usually am when I walk the night. There’s always the possibility that some fool out there might attack even a whisper.”
Standing, Adam reached for the box of matches. Nichole appeared before him as the match lit. She was dressed in black shirt and trousers. But he saw her for only a moment before she blew the light out.
“No,” she whispered. “This time we talk in my world.” She no longer felt like Nichole, Wolf’s little sister. She was a Shadow now, an equal. Adam was on her ground now.
Adam dropped the matchbox. “All right, we’re in your world. Only I’m guessing your vision is better than mine in this midnight.” He leaned back against his desk to steady himself in the floating blackness. “How about answering a few questions? Like where you were tonight and how long you’ve been doing this?”
“Doing what?” she almost sounded innocent.
“You know what. Leaving the house after dark and… and… I’m not sure I know what, or want to.”
Her outline moved from the floor and stood in front of him. He could see little, but he could feel the warmth of her body so near and hear the light intake of her breath. The smell of leather drifted past him as she raised her hand and touched his hair.
He ignored the touch. “Where have you been, Nick? Don’t you realize how dangerous it is in this town after dark? This isn’t the woods of Tennessee.”
She pressed closer, her height equal to his as he leaned against the desk. He felt the length of her body only a fraction away from his.
“What if someone saw you?” He tried to keep his words angry. “Maybe even one of the raiders from the stage? Your life would be worthless if they knew you could identify them. You’ve got to stay hidden at least until the sheriff gets back.”
Nichole didn’t answer but moved her gloved hands to his shoulders. Her fingers lightly brushed from his neck to his arm and back.
“What do you think you’re doing, Nick?” She was driving him mad with her nearness and her silence.
“I’m touching you,” she finally whispered. “I seem to remember you telling me I could this morning. Are you backing down on your word?”
Adam raised his head and folded his arms across his chest. But the action only brought him in contact with her, and she refused to step away. “No,” he answered. “I’m not backing down, but we’ve a great deal to talk about. You have to look at what you’re doing logically. The war is over now. There is no…”
Her hand stroking his jaw made him forget his point. He felt starved for her touch.
She pressed close to his forearms and brushed her lips against his ear with her words. “Talk. I won’t stop you, Doc.”
Adam closed his eyes, trying to think of what it was he’d had to say. All he could think about was the movement of silk at his arms as she touched her lips and cheek against the side of his face. Her journey didn’t reach his mouth, but moved over his skin, exploring the feel of him with her lips.
Didn’t she know that a woman didn’t advance so? Only right now he couldn’t understand why women didn’t, for the feel of her was intoxicating. Maybe she was just punishing him for the way he’d acted this morning. If he reached for her, she’d probably pull away and remind him that he said he’d never touch her again.
He tightened his grip on his elbows and found the muscles in his arms became more sensitive to the brushing of her shirt.
Her warm breath tickled beneath his ear as she slid her cheek along his jawline.
His head leaned back as her hands moved across his shoulders and began unbuttoning his collar. “Nick.” His voice was so low he hardly recognized it. “We can’t do this. You can’t do this.” He knew they were both attracted to one another, but they had to fight it. There were other considerations. Though logic told him this was insane, he seemed to be the only one fighting any urges at the moment.
“We aren’t doing this,” she whispered as she removed his collar and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. “I’m doing this. You’ll stand still and keep to your word. After all, you made a promise to welcome my nearness.”
Her fingers clutched the material and pulled his shirt open. “Are you telling me to stop, Adam? Are you pushing me away?”
“No,” he answered. “Never.”
She moved her hands beneath the cotton.
Adam closed his eyes once more and swore beneath his breath. She was torturing him, paying him back for the cold kiss this morning. Now he was positive if he reached for her, she’d be gone.
She tugged at his arms and he unfolded them, gripping the sides of the desk. Let her play this game, he thought. She was too much of an innocent to take it very far.
Without moving away an inch, she pulled off her gloves and dropped them on the desk. Then to his surprise she went back to unbuttoning the remainder of his shirt. With each button, her fingers spread the starched cotton apart so that she could feel his warm skin. The tips of her fingers moved along his chest, painfully slow.
He felt her light touch a hundred times stronger than if it had been a blow. The fresh, wild smell of her surrounded him, making him feel like he was taking her very being inside him with each breath.
“I want to feel your skin,” she whispered. “Do you mind? After all, you’ve touched mine. Even that first night when my body was filled with pain, I remember how you touched me as you washed the blood away. And in your bedroom just before dawn months ago. I’ll never forget the way your hands moved over me.”
“I said I wouldn’t touch you again,” he answered. “And I won’t.”
How could he tell her that the pleasure of her fingers against his skin was shattering any calmness? She didn’t need to remind him of the times he’d touched her. Each moment was vivid in his mind.