The Ghost Hunter

by Lori Brighton

  His heart hammered wildly. Would she dare? Did she possibly want him as much as he wanted her? Without hesitation, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his, answering his question and invading his heart.

  Chapter 29

  Cristian pulled back as lightning burst across the sky, highlighting the harsh planes of his features. “Come with me.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but a demand. For once, she was eager to comply.

  He took her hand, his grip strong and reassuring, and led her onto the path that trailed around the house. The wet grass swept across her legs, seductive whispers of what was to come. She couldn’t look away from his broad back…studied the way his gray t-shirt hugged his shoulders, the way his damp hair curled ever so slightly.

  Willingly she followed him.

  Maybe she was trying to get back at Matt for his hateful words, or maybe she no longer wanted to think about the craziness that had become her life. Or maybe…just maybe she was ready to finally succumb to the intense attraction she felt toward Cristian. This is the man who had tried to singlehandedly save her pub and her life without wanting any accolades. He was what she needed right now. Perhaps what she’d always needed.

  He led her into the trees, the branches splattering water like wet kisses across her skin. She knew where they were going and her body rejoiced at the prospect. The cottage where they could be alone…completely and utterly alone. No annoying relatives. No ghosts. No demons.

  Her heart pattered against her ribcage like the rain against the leaves. Water trailed down her face, tickling her skin, but she was barely aware. The trees gave way and the cabin came into view, dark and mysterious… beautiful, just like Cristian.

  The door opened easily under his hand. He pulled her inside, right into his arms. Ashley’s palms flattened against his chest as his lips crushed to hers. Through his cold, damp shirt, his skin burned, warming her chilled body. It was a quick kiss, but he made the most of the touch. His very essence seemed to seep into her skin.

  With a growl, he stumbled back, leaving her alone in the middle of the room, her body shaking with need. His gaze was piercing, intense. Her throat closed, her heart thundering madly. They stared at each other for one long moment, the only sound the tap of raindrops against the window panes. There was something more to this man…this being. Something that tore at her heart, that made her want to see his very soul. He’d gone through hell on this earth and the exhaustion in his gaze pulled at her. She wanted to comfort him, to touch him, to ease his worries.

  “I don’t trust myself around ye,” he said.

  Her fallen angel had suddenly grown a conscience. Did he want her to leave? To regret coming here with him? Conscience be damned.

  She closed the distance between them, only to pause close, so close their breaths mingled. She latched onto the front of his shirt and pulled herself onto her tiptoes. Without a word, she pressed her lips to his. He didn’t move, just stood there with his arms pinned to his sides. Urging him to kiss her in kind, she nipped at his lips. He didn’t relent. She wasn’t about to give up. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, she could feel his stone-hard erection pressing to her lower belly. She moved her hands around his broad shoulders and curled her fingers into his hair. Boldly, she slid her tongue across his lower lip.

  He groaned and those muscled arms wrapped around her waist, his hands slipping under her shirt so his palms flattened to the bare skin of her back. Electricity shot through her breasts and lower, to the area between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself, had no control over her own desire. He cupped her bottom and pulled her up close. Ashley sank into his body, the proof of his attraction, hard and pulsing against her thighs.

  She didn’t resist when they tumbled back onto the bed that dominated the room, his heavy form pressing hers into the soft mattress.

  “Bloody hell, I can’t resist ye.” His fingers found the hem of her shirt. Without hesitation he pulled it over her head, tossing the garment to the floor.

  How badly she wished she’d worn the one lacy bra she owned, instead of the plain beige she was currently wearing. But Cristian didn’t seem to mind. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her collarbone, and lower to the tops of her breasts and she no longer worried over the state of her undergarments.

  “Ye taste lovely,” he mumbled against her skin. “Sweet, like strawberries.”

  “I don’t,” she whispered, closing her eyes as heated embarrassment fought with pleasure. No one had ever whispered wonderful nothings to her. No one had ever touched her so. No one had ever made her feel so beautiful. If she hadn’t believed in magic before, she knew she would after this night.

  “Ye do.” His mouth moved to her stomach, his warm lips a torment that burned her skin.

  Her muscles quivered. She moaned, slipping her fingers into his satiny hair. How could she have never felt this before? How could she have not known what she was missing? He moved closer, his face hovering over hers. His eyes had darkened from liquid silver to a hard pewter. Slowly, she reached out and traced her finger across his jaw, reveling in the feel of the bristly scruff against her sensitive skin.

  Water dripped from his wet locks and trailed down the hard planes of his face. She wanted to be those droplets, to kiss every inch of his skin. She slid her hands down his chest, to the hem of his shirt. Eagerly, she pulled his t-shirt over his head. With his torso bared before her, she paused.

  Magnificent. He was utterly and completely magnificent. She should have known the moment she saw him that he wasn’t human. No mortal could be so perfect. Slowly, she dragged her fingers through the crisp hair on his chest, down, over the valleys and planes of muscle, lower to the button on his shorts.

  His stomach muscles quivered and his hand clamped over hers, stilling her actions. She met his gaze, confused. The desire there frightened her as much as it excited her.

  “Not yet,” he whispered.

  Before she could argue, he pressed his lips to her jaw. His tongue flicked out, trailing down her neck and any hesitation was forgotten. A storm of sexual need erupted around them. Desire shot through her body, branching out to every nerve ending and making her skin overly sensitive. She desperately needed Cristian to end the turmoil. He reached up and cupped the sides of her face.

  “Open your eyes, Ashley.”

  She hadn’t realized they were closed until he said the words. Slowly, she lifted her lashes.

  He looked at her, merely looked at her. In the depths of his gaze something flickered, something that looked deceptively like raw emotion. A warm sensation of comfort and longing swept through her. It was as if he’d always known her, every little secret. As if this was the ending to a long separation. It left her off balance. Suddenly, she was confused…leery. These feelings she had for Cristian were unrestrained, but were they hers, or something otherworldly?

  His gaze shifted from her face, and slowly he sat up, his back to her. Instantly, she felt cold, alone. What had happened?

  “Is it Devon?” he asked.

  She drew her knees to her chest. “What do you mean?”

  He was silent for one long moment. “I want ye, Ashley, all of ye. I have to know…” He turned to face her, his eyes soft with emotion. “Tell me yer not in love with Devon.”

  She sucked in a harsh breath, stunned by his question.

  His gaze flickered over her face, searching for an answer…an answer she couldn’t seem to give. They sat so close, their sides touched, but she could feel that wall again. Whether she’d replaced it or he, she wasn’t sure. Did she love Devon? It was too much, too soon. Confused, she stood and paced to the windows, needing distance from the man. Of course she cared about him and she found him attractive, but…

  “No. Not like that.” But her voice came out unsure, quivering. She could see Cristian’s reflection in the window pane, his head was down, his shoulders slumped. Silence settled heavy in the room, emotion crackling through the air. He stood and paced to the opposite side, his back to her
.

  Slowly, she turned. His body was rigid, his hands clenched. Frantically, she searched her mind. Her heart attempted to form some sort of conclusion. How did she feel about Devon? How did she feel about Cristian? But every time she asked herself, her mind came up blank. For so long she’d been alone.

  Suddenly, he was in front of her, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her forward. She sank into the solid comfort he offered. “I’m sorry.”

  He caressed her hair, drawing his fingers through the damp locks.

  She sniffed back the tears. She was a mess. A total mess. She’d hurt Matt and now she was hurting Devon and Cristian. “I should be home. I should be married to Matt.”

  “Why aren’t ye?”

  She lifted her head, his face blurred by the sting of her tears. “Because they wouldn’t let me. They wouldn’t let me live a normal life. The ghosts. They were always there. I tried Cristian, I tried to ignore them. I only lived in modern apartments, never went into historical buildings or cemeteries. I’d see them, but I didn’t interact. I pretended they weren’t real even when I knew they were.”

  “Why?”

  “I hated them.” She said the words so fiercely that even she flinched. His arm moved around her waist and pulled her close again. “I hated them. As much as I begged them to go away, they never did. I so wanted her approval, so wanted her to tell me she was proud. But she wasn’t because I could see them. To her, I was insane.”

  Tears slipped down her cheeks, dripping to his chest. It was the first time she’d cried in years. She took in a deep, shaky breath and pressed her face to his skin. He was warm, so warm and comforting.

  “Ye’ve been fighting it for so long. It’s time to accept yer abilities, Ashley. Yer’re not insane. I think ye know that. Is it so bad? Wouldn’t ye rather believe ye were able to see ghosts than be just bloody insane?”

  “No,” she muttered, spreading her fingers through the crisp hair on his chest. “Because if I’m insane, at least I can take a pill for that.”

  He chucked, a deep chuckle that rumbled through his chest. “This is ye, and I like ye, crazy arse and all.”

  She smiled, despite herself. His words sent a warm shiver through her body, tingling her skin like a caress. Did he mean them? She could pretend. For tonight, she could pretend he meant the words.

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Shhh, you’re safe with me. Now, let’s get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow is only going to be worse.”

  Rest? She didn’t want to rest. She wanted him, but deep down, she knew their moment had gone and if cuddling with Cristian was all she could get at the moment, she’d take it.

  ********

  He felt her move next to him, was completely aware of the way her breathing changed as she came fully awake. He hadn’t been sleeping. No, his body was too tormented to sleep. His cock still strained against his boxers, taunting him. For hours he’d been laying next to her soft body, fighting the urge to finally make her his completely. So far he’d resisted. Bloody hell, if there still wasn’t an angel inside him after all.

  For hours, she’d slept like a babe, finally safe, finally able to rest. For hours he’d wondered how the hell he’d get out of this mess. She felt so damn right next to him. Her body fit perfectly to his. He was falling for her, perhaps he’d already been half in love with her knowing what she’d gone through in her short life. And now…now he was near to losing it all. Just as he had with Charlotte. But this was different. So different. Ashley was courageous, honorable. She would never purposefully betray him.

  For some reason, she’d awoken. Ashley bolted upright. A sweet breeze swept in through the open windows, ruffling his hair. He didn’t dare move. He’d learned long ago that at times stillness and silence spoke more than action. The air shifted, shimmering. He narrowed his eyes. Something was there, in the wind.

  “Maggie?” Ashley whispered. “Maggie, what is it?” She stood, wearing only her bra and panties. The way her waist nipped in, her hips flaring, that round arse… She looked gorgeous, sleepy and gorgeous. “What’s wrong with Devon?”

  Cristian mentally cursed the inopportune timing. Not now, of all moments. Did the bastard have a sixth sense, knowing when he and Ashley were together? Ashley grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Without a backward glance, she raced across the room and slipped outside. Cristian’s ire grew. The woman would rush headlong into a situation she knew nothing about just to save her precious Devon. If he hadn’t hated the former ghost before, he bloody well did now.

  “Shite.” Cristian tossed aside the blanket and pulled on his shorts. He’d have to save her yet again because her fucking emotions were getting in the way.

  The demon had most likely taken hold of poor Devon. Ashley was walking straight into a trap. Under his bare feet the stone steps were cold and damp, but he was barely aware of the discomfort. How he wished he was back in bed with Ashley’s warm body cuddled to his side. Why hadn’t he taken her last night? Why hadn’t he lost himself in her?

  “Listen Maggie, I know you like Devon,” he heard Ashley ahead, but could barely see her through the thick foliage. “But you have to understand he’s not the same ghost you knew. And if he’s asking for me alone, he’s probably not our Devon.”

  Shock quickly turned to relief. So she had some sense in her after all. He moved off the steps, his bare feet sinking into damp earth. In the air hung the essence of pine, wet dirt and rain. The moon was practically gone, giving way to gray dawn. With the rising sun, the power of otherworldly beings would diminish.

  “Maggie,” Ashley sighed. “Come on. Don’t be like this. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

  Cristian shoved aside branches, moving down the path after her. He didn’t trust that child ghost in the least and Ashley had a soft spot for the tiny beast. His feet thumped against wet ground, sending slimy droplets of mud to his calves. Ashley’s dark hair glistened ahead, just through the branches. Next to her something shimmered. Dawn and dusk were the best times to spot ghosts, moments when the walls to the otherworld thinned. He slowed, listening.

  Ashley stood in the middle of the trail, the forest thick on either side. Oddly, he couldn’t see the pub from where he stood. He frowned, glancing around the area. They were close enough that he should be able to see the pub.

  “Maggie, I’m sorry, but I can’t help,” Ashley said.

  A shiver of unease whispered over his skin. A warning. Cristian spun around. The cottage was gone. Thick forest surrounded them “Bloody hell.”

  He knew it was coming, but he should have been more prepared. He turned back toward Ashley, but the branches had grown thicker. He could barely see her through the leaves and branches.

  “Maggie!” Ashley called out.

  The sound sent a flock of blackbirds into the air, their squawks deafening. Maggie had disappeared, leaving behind a trail of evil breadcrumbs. The snap and pop of twigs growing rapidly interrupted the quietness of morning.

  “Ashley,” Cristian called out.

  The branches grew higher and higher, curving in and braiding together, skeletal fingers against a gray dawn backdrop. They were trapped like birds in a cage. Frantic, blood roared to his ears.

  “Cristian!” Ashley’s voice was high-pitched with panic.

  He could practically taste her fear. With a growl, he latched onto the vines, his muscles tensing. Something sharp pierced his palms. Thorns. “Damn it.” He ignored the pain; ignored the wet, warm blood that trailed down his arms. His fingers tightened around the vines. He bent it, twisting, until the branch gave a satisfying snap. “One down, eight million to go.”

  He searched through the tangled branches. Ashley was barely visible, her pale face peering back at him. “Cristian?”

  “It’s no use; it’s a spell. Stand back.”

  He imagined his sword and it appeared in his hand. The weight should have made him feel better, it didn’t. This was getting out of hand. The power of t
he Underworld was growing. He’d put the fight off for as long as he could, hoping Ashley would leave. Time to act. With a growl, he swiped his sword through the branches. They crackled their resistance, but were no match for his weapon and fell, tumbling to the ground. The leaves curled, turning brown immediately. Ashley was sitting huddled on the ground, her arms over her head to keep the branches from hitting her.

  “Up with ye,” Cristian grasped her arm and hauled her to her feet.

  His shirt hung around her small frame, doing little to protect her body. Her legs and arms had thin red scratches from the branches. She didn’t pause, but threw her arms around his waist and pressed the side of her face to his chest. His heart expanded, an odd and not unpleasant warmth rushing through his body. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her back into that cottage.

  “You took your sweet time,” she muttered.

  “Yer very welcome.” As much as he wanted to return to that cottage, they couldn’t. He had a job to do. He gently pushed Ashley away and turned. His reason for being on this earth would always supersede his human desires.

  “Where are you going?” Ashley asked, rushing after him.

  “The pub.” The building was visible again, the branches had miraculously thinned. He started up the path, the blade of his sword glistening in the rising sun.

  Shivering, Ashley stumbled after him. “What was that?”

  “Maggie.” The rising sun sent whispered waves of condensation rising into the air. It was going to be another hot day. He lifted a branch and stepped aside, allowing Ashley to move into the back garden. Her bare legs were bloodied and dirty. He shouldn’t care. She’d certainly deal with worse when all was said and done. So why did his heart lurch?

  “It wasn’t really her,” Ashley defended the child ghost and she probably would until the end.

  “Exactly.” They started around the pub, Cristian’s step sure and quick. Best to get it over with, for he knew he had a fight ahead of him. Ashley wouldn’t let it go easily. “Maggie has been infected. Probably for awhile now. He’s gotten to her.”