Christine Feehan - Shadowgame

She rolled over and peered under her bed. Laughing at her silliness, Lily lay back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The sound of her voice helped to stifle the disappointment settling in her body. She ached. Inside and out, she ached for him. For Ryland Miller. The silver slash of his eyes. The temptation of his mouth. His body. She dreamt of his body. Of holding him close, of his hands and mouth touching her, tasting her. Of the feel of his skin. She woke burning and alone. Hollow and empty and moody.

After she had left him with Jeff Hollister, she had returned to her father's secret laboratory, wanting to read more of his journals. Lily feared doing anything that might harm Hollister but Ryland had been adamant that they not bring in medical help. She worked most of the morning and into the afternoon, falling into bed just before five. Obviously she had slept into the night.

She was not going to search Ryland out. Thinking about him interfered with her ability to concentrate on helping him. It was far more important to find answers. She had supplied him with a safe refuge and plenty of food. Getting involved with him any further could jeopardize everything, she told herself firmly. The best way to help Ryland Miller and the others was to find out everything she could about how her father had managed to open their brains to the waves of energy.

Lily shoved a hand through her thick mass of hair tumbling around her face. She could never live up to the erotic dream they'd shared. It was easy enough to be completely uninhibited in a dream, but she had no idea how to behave with a flesh-and-blood man expecting a siren. Why had she ever shared that dream with him? She blushed a vivid scarlet, groaned, and hid her face in her hands.

"Think of something else, Lily. For heaven's sake, you're a grown woman. It's imperative to find the answers. Stop thinking about him!" Lily tried to be firm with herself, forcing her mind to consider other things besides raw, hot men. Man. She sighed. "Okay, Lily, focus here. Colonel Higgens is bound to eventually become suspicious of you. Sooner or later he'll find a way to penetrate security. Arly only thinks he's a miracle worker."

Lily threw back the covers and padded across the room to the tiled bathroom on bare feet. She wore only a long shirt. Ryland's shirt. It still held his scent, enfolding her in his presence like an embrace. She had stolen it, a pathetic impulse she was slightly ashamed of, but eternally grateful she had acted on. It had been left in the laboratory along with his other clothes, ready to be sent out to the laundry. She couldn't believe she had been reduced to stealing a shirt. It was more than pathetic, it was truly wretched.

Taking her time as she washed her face, using the opportunity to give herself a stern lecture, she peered at her face in the mirror. "You don't want him anyway, Lily, you want to be loved for who you are, not because you have great chemistry." Her eyes were too large for her face. She was too pale. Drooping. Why hadn't she been born model thin and gorgeous? With a perpetual tan?

Great chemistry works for me . The voice slipped into her mind. Slid over her body like a physical touch.

Lily stiffened, her fingers curling around the edges of the sink. Using the mirror she searched the room carefully. It was one thing to dream of him, quite another to face him alone and vulnerable in the privacy of her rooms. The connection was too strong between them. She didn't trust it… or him. "Are you here in the room with me? Because you'd better not be. You have a designated area of safety and my private rooms are not included." She asked the question aloud, wanted him to answer aloud. It was far too intimate an exchange with him in her mind. Her thoughts. Her fantasies. The color wasn't just in her face anymore, it was creeping up her entire body.

I like your fantasies . Ryland's voice purred. Like a great contented cat. Purred so that it vibrated through her body, set her on fire.

He couldn't be in her room. He'd better not be in her room. Her heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. She wanted to see him, but dreaded being alone with him. And she was wearing his shirt… It was possible she wanted him so much she was imagining things. She closed her eyes. Imagination had already gotten her in trouble once; she wasn't about to allow it to happen again.

Hands whispered up her thighs, pushing aside the long tails of her shirt, slid over the curve of her hips, framed her rib cage, and moved up higher to cup the weight of her breasts in rough palms. Lily's eyes flew open to stare at his face above her own. Real. Ryland crowded close to her. His body, hard and hot, pressed against her back. His hands, beneath the thin material of her shirt, were possessive, his thumbs stroking her nipples into taut peaks.

Ryland watched her face in the mirror. Fear blossoming. The shock. The pleasure. He slowly bent his head so that his lips skimmed her neck. "Don't worry, Lily, I know you. I know what you want. I know what you need right now. I need it too. The rest will come later."

Desire was a hot heat spiraling through her body, every nerve ending alive. Lily gasped, her fingers tightening around the edge of the sink. She should have been screaming a protest; instead she stood very still absorbing the feel of his hands on her body. "Are you crazy? How did you find me? You shouldn't be here, Ryland." She wanted him more than life itself. But she wasn't what he thought. She could never match the erotic fantasy they had woven together.

Ryland's teeth scraped gently over her neck, sent fire racing over her skin. "Did you think anything could keep me away from you?" His hands were possessive around her breasts. "Don't be afraid, Lily. Anything we do is going to be perfect between us."

She couldn't help the thrill of excitement that raced through her, even if her mind taunted her with her lack of actual experience. Their eyes met in the mirror. She could see his hunger. Stark and raw. There were lines etched into his face that hadn't been there before. There were shadows and a certain edge to the sensual cut of his mouth.

Lily drew in her breath to tell him it was wrong, they didn't love one another, it was a chemical reaction, anything to drive him away, but he drew her closer to him, fit her body snugly against his. She could feel the hard bulge pressed against her, evidence of his body's urgent demands. She felt as if she belonged to him. With him. No longer Lily but a part of Ryland. As if there would be no Lily without him.

"It's been hell without you, Lily. I can't explain it any other way. With you, I can function. I can control what's happening to me."

"You aren't controlling yourself now." She wasn't entirely certain she wanted him in control. One hand was sliding lightly over her stomach, his fingers moving in a massaging caress impossible to ignore. She closed her eyes against the sensation and unexpectedly tears burned behind her lashes.

Immediately his hand stopped moving. His breath hitched in his throat. "Don't do that. Don't hurt like that." His hands reluctantly left the refuge of her body. He turned her into the shelter of his chest, his arms enfolding her close. His body was protective, his hands tender as they stroked her silky hair. "I know you're confused right now. I know you don't think what's between us is real or that emotion plays a part in it, but you're wrong, Lily. I think of you all the time, how you are, what you're feeling. I love the sound of your voice, your smile. It isn't just sex."

"It isn't that." Lily turned her head to rest it over the precise spot where his heart beat so steadily. It was happening all over again. Each time she was near him she could deny him nothing. She couldn't look at him. She wasn't certain she could ever look at him again. "I don't want you to be disappointed."