But that would mean Mona Murphy wasn’t a ghost, but a poltergeist. That was the term for spirits who moved things and became violent, wasn’t it?
Oh my God, what am I thinking? Ghosts? Poltergeists? Perhaps the fantastic was a better alternative to the reality, which was that someone, not something, was behind these happenings. The mere thought of someone watching over her while she slept, who would attack her upon waking and who would move Gabriel’s bed slats in a malicious, petty attempt to hurt him, was positively chilling.
‘Sshhhh, I can almost hear you thinking,’ Gabriel whispered, and his arm slid over her waist, pulling her close to him. She stiffened, but his warmth, his strength, lulled her into a sweet surrender, and she relaxed against his body, resting her cheek against the warm skin of his chest. His arm tightened around her.
‘It’s okay, Bella. You’re safe. Go to sleep.’
His chest rose in deep, regular breaths, and she could hear the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart beneath her ear. His gentle embrace made her feel warm and safe. She closed her eyes and synchronised her breathing with his, slowly slipping into slumber.
***
Gabe felt Bella relax against him, and he tried to ignore the sensation of warm sexy curves nestled against his body. He was humbled. She trusted him. She was sleeping in his arms, trusting him to keep her safe.
Something weird and nasty was going on at the house, something he didn’t understand.
He thought of the broken lamp, the bruise on her cheek, the pillow he’d seen covering her face. He thought of the wooden slats beneath his mattress, and he tightened his hold on the woman in his arms.
He made a personal vow; he would do whatever it took to keep Bella safe.
***
Heat. That was the first thing she noticed as her eyelids fluttered open. She was so warm, enclosed in a secure embrace. She glanced about the room without moving her head, trying to get her bearings.
Her cheek rested against warm skin, and a strong arm held her tight against a solid wall of muscle. The curtains were open just a little, and she could see the grey of overcast pre-dawn light outside through the gap. Morning was coming.
Oh, God, and she was sleeping with Gabriel. Her cheeks flushed. He’d been the perfect gentleman, holding her gently as she slept. For once she hadn’t been disturbed by noises, or weird dreams. She’d only slept for a few hours, but those few hours were a deeper slumber than she’d managed to accomplish over the last few weeks in this house.
His breath rasped, and Bella smiled as he snored faintly. She lifted her head and looked up at him. His face was relaxed in sleep, the beard on his cheek and chin hiding the lines of strain, giving him a dangerous, sexy look.
Her gaze wandered over his frame. He truly was a magnificent beast, perfectly proportioned with his broad shoulders that tapered down to narrow hips. The bumps of muscle cording his torso were mouth-watering, golden skin stretched taught, with very little body fat to mar the perfection.
Her gaze lifted to his face, and she was startled to meet his eyes. How long had he been awake and watching her ogling him? She was practically salivating over his body. Usually when she did that he was lying face down and couldn’t see her fascination with his muscles, his skin… She should have felt embarrassed, but seeing the unmistakable desire in his eyes made her feel a whole lot more than a blush.
She straightened, but halted when his hand reached for her shoulder. His eyes were like dark fire as he drew her down for a kiss.
And she so wanted that kiss.
Maybe it was that just-woken relaxation of inhibitions, the lack of full awareness of action and consequence, or perhaps it was a greater sense of trust underneath the attraction that caused her to soften into his arms.
When her lips touched his, he rolled, pulling her under him, and proceeded to kiss her with a lazy thoroughness that had her hot and wet in seconds. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing his weight as he relaxed against her, his hands trailing over her body.
She was content to enjoy their kisses, a sensual lethargy stealing over her as his tongue slid alongside hers in a lazy rhythm that increased along with her tension. Like waking up to sunshine on a summer’s day, the slow burn gradually building with time. He acted as though he wanted nothing more than to make love to her mouth. God, he was a good kisser. She could spend forever kissing this man.
Eventually it wasn’t enough, though. Her heart pounded as with each swipe of his tongue the kiss became more seductive, more carnal. Her nipples peaked under the cotton of her nightshirt, her breasts swelling with wanton need.
As though he knew what she needed, Gabriel slid his hand up her body, gliding under the cotton to caress her breasts.
She moaned, arching her back at the contact. Oh, God. He kept kissing her as his hands pressed against her mounds, lifting them, tugging on them. His lips left hers briefly as he levered himself away, his hips rubbing against hers as he pulled the shirt up and over her body, before immediately swooping down to kiss her some more, pulling her against him.
She trembled at the skin-to-skin contact. His flesh felt scorching hot, and they were writhing against each other as he tore his lips from hers to kiss and lick a blazing trail down her neck to her chest.
His lips closed around a nipple, and she didn’t bother to adjust her volume as she cried out at the contact. It was as though that molten kiss zinged to that secret place between her thighs, bathing her in liquid need.
She smoothed her hands over his back, scraping her nails down over his broad shoulders as he pulled on her nipple, sucking it into the moist cavern of his mouth. Eyes closed, she arched her back, lost to the sensations bombarding her.
He transferred his mouth from one breast to the other as his palm smoothed down her side and under the elasticised waist of her cotton shorts.
She moved against him as he grasped the firm flesh of her butt, both of them breathing faster, harder, more laboured.
She rolled with him as he pulled the shorts down her legs, the movements smooth and fluid, until he could toss the garment somewhere behind him. Then he quickly divested himself of his own clothing, and this time his movements were a little more hurried, until he could enfold her in his arms again, sliding his whole body against hers.
Bliss. Hot, carnal bliss, that’s what he was. He rubbed himself against her, and she gasped as she felt his rigid erection against her stomach.
Gabe kissed his way down her body, leaving a blazing hot trail wherever his lips and tongue touched. She tilted her head back in the pillow as he slid down in the bed. His hands on her thighs, she obeyed his gentle, unspoken command and spread her legs for his kiss.
Her eyes widened as he caressed her there with hands and mouth, one of her hands delving into his hair while another made a fist on the pillow beside her. She gasped as he made love to her with his mouth, heat climbing inside her, a tight coiling of tension that hitched with each swipe of his tongue, until she couldn’t control herself any longer, moving against him as sensation exploded within her, a maelstrom of bliss swamping her in a hot tide of release.
Gabriel rose above her and fumbled in the drawer beside the bed. She heard the crinkle of foil, and a moment later he climbed her body, like a panther on the prowl, kissing her and paying special attention to her nipples as he positioned himself between her thighs. He lifted his head and looked her directly in the eye. His skin was flushed, his eyes dark with passion, the muscles on his arms and across his chest standing in stark relief against the tension clutching her body.
The look he gave her was dark, impassioned, expectant. Was he waiting for permission? Heck, he’d just given her an almighty orgasm, she was ready to say yes to anything. She nodded, reaching up for him.
‘I want you,’ she whispered to him, and his eyes closed briefly in – relief? Did he not know how much she wanted him? How attractive he was to her – in and out of bed? He sank into her, and she moaned as her body welcomed him, enveloped him, lov
ed him.
He opened his eyes and proceeded to make slow, hot love to her, taking her to a place of mindless pleasure she’d never visited before with a sensuality and seductive power that left her breathless and writhing until they both reached an intense satisfaction that left them drained and panting.
Afterward, Gabriel quickly and discreetly discarded the condom and came back to join her in the bed, caressing her arm as she lay next to him as they both struggled to get their breathing and heart rate under control. He pulled her closer to him.
‘Thank you,’ he said to her quietly, cupping her face between both of his hands.
She raised her hand to touch the side of his face, the side that sported the white bandages and tape that covered his eye.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered back to him, and kissed him reverently on the lips. It had been the most glorious, beautiful experience of her life. She wasn’t a prude, and she certainly wasn’t a virgin, but she knew that what she’d just experienced in Gabriel’s arms was unique and special.
He tucked her in close, resting his chin on the top of her head, and she sighed, knowing utter contentment in his arms.
Together they watched the sky lighten gradually outside as the dawn finally stretched its weak grasp into the grey day outside.
Chapter 10
A door slammed, and Gabe jerked awake. He’d been dozing, utterly content and pleasantly exhausted from the early-morning activity in his bed.
Footsteps echoed through the hall downstairs, and he realised Ellie and Ramsey had arrived. He hugged the snoozing woman in his arms a little tighter. He didn’t want the real world to intrude on this moment with Bella. He could already feel his body stirring to life, ready for another round of hot, intense lovemaking.
He wanted to sing. He wanted to climb onto the roof and yell his happiness to the world. Yes, the sex had been that good, but it was more than that. He hadn’t been with a woman in so long – not since before the accident. He knew he looked a little scary with the eye-patch and the beard, like a pale, sickly version of Blackbeard the pirate. That’s exactly how he’d felt, too. Pale and sickly, not quite an invalid but not whole either. Having in-home care because he couldn’t do everything himself was demoralising. Not able to feel capable, to feel useful, to do the simplest things – if he couldn’t open a damn tin, how could he work? How could he provide for himself, let alone a partner? How could he attract a woman when he looked like hell and wasn’t strong enough to be the man, the provider, the protector?
But Bella had never seen him as anything less than a man. Sure, she’d treated him like a recalcitrant kid sometimes, but that was only when he behaving like one and thoroughly deserved her not-so-gentle prodding. But she’d never treated him as if he was broken. She’d always treated him like he was healing, like he was more than the sum total of his injuries, something that he himself had lost sight of a long time ago. He’d focused on his pain, on his limitations, on what he couldn’t do, and it had taken Bella to show him that he could be better than that.
Even if he couldn’t go back to building, to the way his life had been before the shooting, his attempts at carving had shown him that he could still do some things, try new things, and maybe forge a new life.
And hopefully that life would include Bella – and not as his physio. He’d gotten used to seeing her smile, listening to her husky voice, and oh, God, feeling her touch. He didn’t want to lose that.
More doors opened and closed, and this time Bella jerked upright, blinking, clutching the sheet to her chest. Her brown hair was a tangled mess down her back, and he realised this was the first time he’d really seen her with it out. He eyed the twin mounds covered by the sheet. He knew what was under that sheet, and he wanted to explore that territory again. And again.
She looked like a sexy, slumberous siren in his bed, and he slid his hand up her arm in an attempt to soothe her – and fine, just as an excuse to touch her.
‘Shh, it’s okay. It’s just Ellie and Ramsey downstairs.’
Her eyes rounded. ‘Ohmygawd,’ she hissed, and scrambled out of the bed. For a moment he lay back, enjoying the view as she bent down to sweep up her nightshirt.
‘What’s the matter?’ He whispered to her, and then wondered why they were trying to be so quiet.
‘They’re here,’ she hissed back as she twisted one way, then another, looking for her shorts.
‘And?’ He watched idly as she dropped to her knees to peer under the bed, and his shaft stirred at the sight of her derriere in the air.
She rose, flicking her long hair back over her shoulder and eyeing him in frustration. ‘Because I’m here, and I should be in my own room.’
He finally relented and pointed to the top of the wooden framed canopy of his four-poster bed. Her pink shorts hung from a pole at a jaunty angle. She made a funny little growl in the back of her throat, then stepped up onto the bed to reach for the clothing. Gabe eyed her long, toned legs, wishing they were wrapped around his waist.
‘This is so bad – what have I done?’ she muttered to herself as she tugged on the fabric. There was a slight tearing sound before she managed to finally yank the shorts off the pole.
Gabe frowned. That sounded like regret. He felt no regret whatsoever for what they’d done, and didn’t want her feeling any either. ‘Whatever you did, it was good and I want to do it again.’
She shook her head, her brown hair covering her face with the movement. ‘No, we can’t do this again.’ She blew her hair out of her face to eye him. ‘Never, ever. I’m your physio, you are my client. We cannot do this. Never.’ She hurried to the door as he swung his legs over the bed. ‘This is bad. So bad. We were so bad.’ She pressed her ear to the door and listened for a moment.
‘I want to be bad again.’ He didn’t bother to hide the need, the desire he felt for this woman as she stood naked at his door. She turned and eyed him briefly, chewing her lip. Her eyes raked over him, over his shoulders, his chest, halting at his obvious arousal.
‘This is so bad,’ she said weakly, then leaned over and kissed him. He opened his mouth, welcoming her tongue as she kissed him with a fervour that had him delving his hands into her hair, slanting her head so he could take control of the kiss.
She pulled away, frowning fiercely, her hazel-green eyes sparkling with arousal, her cheeks flushed. She held up a hand. ‘No. No, we can’t do this. This is bad. No more. Never.’
And then she was gone, leaving him tight with need and with a hollow feeling in his chest.
***
Mistyweather stopped as soon as she stepped inside the house. ‘It’s here.’
Rump rolled his eyes. He’d discovered that Mistyweather had a flair for the dramatic. ‘What’s here?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, closing her eyes and lifting her chin. ‘Something. Something big and dark and powerful.’
‘That’s no way to talk about our host,’ he said, and his breath gusted before him in a fog. Well, lookie-there. The sprite was right.
Esmerelda came out of the kitchen, a worried look on her face. ‘Something’s going on.’
Misty nodded as she opened her eyes, her pupils a startling, shimmering, sparkling green gleam.
He sighed. He couldn’t hide it anymore – the evil power in this house seemed to be growing, strengthening, and now two fairies were on the alert. ‘Watch your glamour, Misty,’ he warned the sprite.
Mistyweather’s glamour had faded, showing the true fairy beneath the disguise she’d created. She nodded, and glimmered brightly until all that could be seen was the little old lady she passed herself off to be. It was a rookie mistake, not having the focus to maintain glamour when distracted. It took years of practice, but it was a skill worth honing, especially if you were going to walk among the humans.
Esmerelda, on the other hand, was completely in character. She shot him a stony look. And completely pissed off, too, by the looks of things. He regretted not telling her his suspicions, but as yet h
e still wasn’t quite sure if he could trust her.
‘Where are Gabriel and Bella?’ she asked crisply.
Mistyweather gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, sprinkles and stardust,’ she murmured from behind her hand. ‘They’ve done it.’
Rump arched an eyebrow. ‘They’ve done what?’ Mistyweather was smiling and shuffling around in what he presumed was some sort of happy dance, but she looked more like an old woman having an epileptic fit.
‘Can’t you feel it?’ the sprite said, coming up to him, her eyes dancing. Rump stepped back from her. One minute she was all zen and portending doom, next she was giddy and excited. Her changes in mood were difficult for him to keep up with. ‘Can’t you feel the love?’
He squinted as he concentrated on his surrounds. The darkness was distracting, roiling and building as it was, but there, just faintly, was the glimmer of golden light. He shook his head in amazement. ‘How do you do that?’
Esmerelda cocked her head to the side, wearing a similar expression. ‘Yes, Misty, how do you do that?’
Mistyweather shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I just sense.’
Footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of Gabriel, and they all strengthened their glamour instinctively, enforcing the appearance of their characters. Ellie approached him. ‘What has happened here?’
Gabriel hesitated, and Ramsey’s eyebrow rose. Was that a blush on the big guy’s cheeks?
‘We had a visitor last night,’ Gabe told her, then frowned. ‘How did you know?’
Ellie waved a hand toward the door. ‘There were deep tyre tracks in the gravel drive, and the begonias I planted appear to have been stepped on.’
Gabe grimaced. ‘That would have been the police. Oh, hello again, Misty.’ Gabe shot Ramsey a questioning look, and Ramsey made a circling motion around his ear in the age-old ‘she’s crazy’ gesture.
Misty nodded in greeting, lifting her hand in a frail wave. ‘The police, you say? That sounds serious.’
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