He was so startled he very nearly dropped the delicate thermometer he’d been using to check for cold spots. Now his hand gripped the handle excitedly as he watched her, so pale and fragile and lovely she might have been spawned from a gothic poem.
But she was no ghost, Hayden realized almost at once. His phantom was flesh and blood, and dressed in white cotton pajamas that were diaphanous in the filtered moonlight.
When she got to the steps of the mausoleum, she glanced around expectantly, then cocked her head, as if a sound had caught her attention. Slowly, she lifted her arms and began to dance.
Maybe it was the uneven terrain, but she moved with very little natural grace and no discernible rhythm, stumbling every now and then over roots and bits of broken headstone. Hayden was at once amused and totally captivated.
After a moment, though, he began to grow uneasy. He felt a little sleazy spying on her, but he didn’t want to frighten or embarrass her by announcing his presence. Nor did he want to slip away silently, leaving her alone in an abandoned graveyard. What the hell was she doing out here anyway?
He cleared his throat, but she paid him no mind. He took a bolder approach and stepped from the shadows where he knew she could see him. She froze. Their gazes locked. And then she did something Hayden would never have predicted in a million years. She came to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her for a kiss.
He was so taken aback, he didn’t have time to resist. Nor did he mean to respond. The whole situation was just too damned strange, but when she pressed her body against his—and man, those pajamas left nothing to the imagination—he felt the stirrings of an arousal even as he told himself to get the hell out of there. This chick was weird.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said breathlessly.
“You’ve been waiting…for me?” He gazed down into her upturned face. Pale skin, full lips, blue eyes…all framed by a cloud of dark hair that smelled like ginger. Never mind Hawthorne or Poe. She might have sprung straight from his fantasy.
Still moving in a dreamlike stupor, she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Her mouth was open and eager and when she nibbled his bottom lip, he shuddered. He couldn’t help himself. And it wasn’t to his credit that it took him a moment to break away.
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t worry,” she murmured. “Father doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“He…doesn’t?”
Smiling, she reached for his hand and placed it on her breast. With her other hand, she reached for him.
“Hey. Take it easy there.” He stepped back.
She gazed at him demurely as she began to unbutton her top.
“That’s not a good idea. You don’t know me, I don’t know you…”
The top fell to the ground. Her skin glowed like marble in the moonlight.
Good Lord. Hayden didn’t want to stare, but…good Lord!
He picked up the garment and thrust it at her. “Come on, now. Put this back on.”
She frowned, glanced around, and then with a slow dawning, gave a little shriek and drew back her hand. He had no doubt she would have popped him across the face if he hadn’t caught her wrist. “Whoa. That’s not a good idea, either.”
Her eyes widened and she looked on the verge of hysteria. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
He lifted his hands. “Nothing. I swear—”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“You came on your own. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Then how…” She glanced down, gasped, and clutched the pajama top to her chest. “Oh, God.”
It was as if he’d doused her with cold water. She stumbled back, mortified and not a little frightened. “Don’t touch me!”
“No problem.”
She retreated all the way back to the steps. He peered at her curiously through the mist, but made no attempt to approach her. “Are you okay? You seem a little…disoriented.” To put it mildly.
She struggled into the pajama top, her fingers fumbling with the buttons. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I got here. So help me God, if you drugged me—”
“Drugged you?” This just kept getting better and better. “Until a few minutes ago, I’d never even laid eyes on you.”
“Then how did I get here?”
“You tell me.” Her accusations offended him, but she looked so lost and vulnerable, he couldn’t help feeling protective of her. Outwardly, she appeared fine. He didn’t detect any blood or bruises, but something had obviously happened to her. “You don’t remember anything?”
“It’s all so hazy.” She touched a hand to her forehead. “I remember going to bed and then I had the strangest dream.”
“Dream?” He latched on to the first thing that made sense. “Maybe you were sleepwalking.”
“I’ve never done that in my life.”
“First time for everything. Do you live nearby? In one of the dorms maybe?”
She didn’t answer.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said. “If I’d wanted to hurt you, I could have already done so by now.”
Her chin came up. “You could have tried.”
He had to admire her pluck. “You’re free to leave,” he said, waving an arm toward the path. “I won’t try to stop you. But just so you know, you’re safer here with me than you are out there alone in the dark. Especially if you don’t know where you’re going.”
“I know where I’m going.” A slight tremor in her voice belied her defiance.
“Well, good. If you’ll wait until I gather up my equipment, I’ll give you a lift. If not…be careful out there.”
Ree knew that she should leave, but instead she lingered, inexplicably drawn to a total stranger. He was slim and attractive with an alternative edge to his demeanor and style that made her wonder if he was a musician, the kind one might see in some cool but slightly decadent after-hours club. Not someone she’d expect to find hanging out in an abandoned graveyard.
She had no reason in the world to trust him, especially considering her state of undress when she’d…awakened, for lack of a better term. But she wasn’t without memories, though hazy they might still be. She’d kissed him. He may have responded—that part was a little sketchy—but she was pretty sure she’d been the instigator. Which wasn’t like her. She was hardly a shrinking violet but she wasn’t exactly aggressive, either. Certainly not with a stranger she’d just met in a graveyard. It was all just so odd. She’d felt compelled to kiss him, as if she had no will of her own. As if she were merely a puppet in someone else’s dream.
She was fully conscious now, completely in control of her faculties, and nothing still made sense. The whole night was beginning to seem like a waking nightmare.
“So do you want a ride or not?” he queried.
An alarm sounded in her head, but so faintly Ree could easily ignore it. “Yes, a ride would be nice. I live a few blocks north of here. Just at the edge of campus.”
“You’re a student then?”
“I’m working on my master’s thesis, but I also volunteer at the Milton H. Farrante Psychiatric Hospital.”
She could almost hear the wheels turning inside his head. Disoriented girl alone in an old graveyard…
“I’m a psych major,” she added.
“Ah.” He made it sound as if that explained everything. “Do you have a name?”
“Ree Hutchins.”
“I’m Hayden Priest. Recent law school graduate and soon-to-be attorney when and if I pass the South Carolina bar.” He took a few tentative steps toward her. When she didn’t retreat, he offered his hand and she reluctantly shook it. A surge of electricity shot up her arm and she felt a little light-headed from the contact. Embarrassed, she dropped his hand and clutched the front of her top, which she’d buttoned all the way up to her neck. It was a little late for modesty, though, seeing as how he’d already seen her half naked. Ree actually caught herself wondering about the impression she’d made on him. Idiot.