He coaxed her tongue into his mouth and then he sucked on it, drawing it deeper. Delight was immediately addicted to the slightly coppery taste and began to explore his mouth. He angled her face and deepened the kiss. Her entire body hummed with pleasure and she emitted a little sound of encouragement.

  He cupped one of her breasts in his large hand, covering the soft mound completely. He gave it a gentle squeeze before moving his palm over the tip in a slow, easy circle. Delight tipped back her head and moaned. The moment her lips lost contact with his, he peppered her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, and chin with soft, seductive kisses.

  When his hand moved toward her other breast, she moaned again, this time in anticipation of the pleasure. She squirmed, trying to get closer to him, intentionally rubbing her thigh against his erection.

  She knew this was crazy. She’d been attacked. There were dead men only feet from them. But Delight couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was as though her body had a mind of its own, one devoid of reason, acting only on primal instinct.

  He nuzzled her throat, nipping at her delicate skin and distracting her from her thoughts. Desire tilted her head back, stretching her neck and silently offering herself to him. She sensed his pleasure as she curled her hand around his nape and pulled him closer. She arched backward, lost in the pleasure of her arousal.

  Brutal pain struck her unawares.

  She cried out and pulled away from him as sheer agony shot through her back and shoulders. Her entire body went hot and then cold. She broke out in a sweat, her skin becoming clammy. Her stomach churned and she feared she might vomit.

  Her rescuer muttered something in a language she didn’t understand, but she sensed he wasn’t happy with himself. He eased her slightly forward. “Breath,” he commanded.

  She inhaled in through her nose and out through her mouth. Then she did it again and again until the sick feeling in her stomach passed and the pain subsided to a manageable level.

  He eased a damp strand of hair away from her eyes. “I should not have forgotten your injuries. Forgive me?” His words were formal and tinged with an accent she couldn’t place.

  Although it was difficult, she offered him a weak smile. “It’s not your fault. I forgot them myself.” But their sensual connection had been broken and memory came flooding back. She shuddered and tried to sit up, but he held her easily, his arms velvet manacles around her.

  “Why are you in my dream?” His question shocked her and began to clear the cobwebs of her muddled mind.

  This wasn’t real. None of it was. “You’re in my dream,” she informed him.

  He arched one of his black eyebrows and gave her a superior male look. “I think not.”

  Delight had been having a variation of this nightmare for the past eight years. She was one of those few people who were able to master lucid dreaming, giving her the ability to be aware and exercise some control over them. Once she was fully cognizant of the dream, she always managed to wake herself up before they raped and killed her. Being chased and beaten was bad enough, even if it wasn’t truly real.

  But not tonight. Tonight had been different. This time everything about the nightmare had been more real, more vicious, and it had continued long past its usual ending. Everything was more vivid. She could smell the damp earth and hear the rush of the wind whistling through the headstones. Her entire body felt bruised from the attack.

  She had been unable to stop the men tonight and had panicked.

  Then he had come. Like some knight of old, he had rescued her and then claimed her as the spoils of victory. Now he had the nerve to tell her it was his dream, not hers.

  “I’ve had the same dream for years,” she tartly informed him. Who was he to come into her dream and tell her any different. Why had she conjured such a difficult man?

  Even though every inch of her body hurt, it was still screaming with arousal. Ignoring it, she forced herself to continue. “You’re definitely in my nightmare.” She poked him in his chest for emphasis, but it was like hitting steel. There was definitely no give in this man’s chest.

  “This is unusual.” He frowned down at her as if this was somehow all her fault.

  She just shrugged. As much as she wanted to stay and explore the sexual possibilities with him, Delight knew that it was time to wake up now. She desperately needed to put this dream behind her and find her equilibrium.

  It shocked her just how badly she wanted to stay with him. She knew she’d miss him even if he was just a figment of her imagination. It was definitely time to put an end to their encounter. “I have to go now.” She tried to ease out of his arms.

  “No.” There was a note of desperation in his voice that had not been there before. “If you’re real, then you are the one.”

  The intensity burning in his eyes began to frighten her. She could see flames dancing in their emerald green depths. The raw power he possessed and had kept leashed suddenly lashed at her from all sides.

  But now that she’d become aware of the fact she was dreaming and decided to end it, there was no holding back the tide of wakefulness. She felt the scene fading, becoming more ghostly with each passing second.

  “No!” He held her tighter, as if he could somehow hold her there. “Don’t go,” he roared.

  Ignoring his plea to stay, she clapped her hands over her ears and began to scream. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

  Chapter Two

  Delight bolted upright in bed, his anguished cry still ringing in her ears. It was so heartbreaking, so real, she reached out to him with her mind, suddenly afraid to lose all contact. But it was too late. He was gone. Their connection had been severed as if it had never been. She felt empty inside, like something special and important had been lost.

  “It was just a dream,” she muttered and rubbed her hands over her face. It didn’t matter how vivid or real it felt, none of it was real. Not the men chasing and attacking her, not the pain she suffered during the nightmare, and certainly not the man she’d conjured to rescue her.

  And how weird was it for him to tell her she was in his dream. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was.

  She fell back against her pillows, rolled onto her side, and buried her face against them. Her cheeks were still damp from the tears she’d cried in her sleep. The phantom pain in her back eased and slowly disappeared. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt cold and strangely bereft without her dark rescuer.

  This latest dream had gone on much longer than it had any previous time. It had been far more violent too before it had taken a sensual turn. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Not that it mattered. She could control her dreams to a point, but sometimes not even she, with her years of practice, could stop them or change their direction. Next time she’d have to try to wake before the attack got bad enough that she needed to be rescued.

  There was not enough time left before she had to get up to bother going back to sleep, so she dragged herself out of bed. She was totally exhausted and drained by her nocturnal activities. What she needed was a shower and a cup of hot, steaming coffee to put her back to rights.

  Before she did anything, she wandered over to the window and gazed out over the city she’d called home her entire life. The sun was rising for another day and it hung like a bloody orb in the sky, tingeing the city in red. Delight couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a bad omen of things to come. New Orleans—the city of ghouls and legends and superstitions—there was no other place like it in the world. She loved the city and the variety of people who populated it.

  Delight shivered even though the air wafting through the open window was warm. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she turned and padded silently to the connecting bathroom. She didn’t waste any time and stepped into the shower. The cool spray washed away the sweat and tears that clung to her body—the only tangible reminders of her dream. She didn’t linger. There was no time, not with a busy day looming ahead.

  When she was done, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She felt more awake, more grounded in reality. Wrapped in a thick towel, she made her way back to her bedroom to dress.

  All the while, a pair of green eyes haunted her. Every time she closed her eyes, his face was there in front of her, waiting for her. She laughed at herself as she dragged on a pair of panties and a matching bra the color of pale mint. Her rescuer certainly fit the criteria for being a dream man. Tall, dark, and handsome in a rugged way, he exuded an aura of sexuality and power. He was definitely way out of her league, but it was much better to focus on him than on the trauma of the nightmare.

  Delight quickly pulled on a long linen skirt in a light beige color and topped it with a crisp, sleeveless white blouse. Examining herself in the mirror, she was pleased that her restless night didn’t show on her face. Her hair was cut in a short style that fell easily into place every morning when she washed it. She’d never been one to fuss. And the sandy brown color went well with her pale blue eyes. They were her best feature in an otherwise plain, heart-shaped face. Her lips were average, not too thin, not too thick, and her nose tilted upward just a smidgen.

  Average was the best word to describe just about everything about her—height, build and weight. The only thing that was a little better than average was her breasts. At least they were a respectable thirty-four C cup. At twenty-eight, she had long since accepted herself the way she was.

  She went to the closet, pulled out a pair of beige loafers, and slipped her feet into them. Just because she was only five-foot-five didn’t mean she wore heels. When you were on your feet all day like she was, comfort was the only thing that mattered.

  Delight had one hand on the doorknob when she swore softly and stomped back over to her dresser. She picked up a tube of lipstick and swiped the light shade across her lips. It didn’t show up very much, but the rosy color flattered her features. It was more for her than for anyone else, giving her a sense that she was donning her professional armor so she could face the day a little more easily.

  With a nod in the mirror, she turned and left her room. She was on her way to check in on her brother, but when she paused outside his bedroom she could hear Chase rummaging around inside. She thanked God every day that her brother was different from most other eighteen-year-olds.

  Responsible, polite, hardworking, and a joy to be around, Chase had been her sole responsibility for the last ten years since the unexpected death of their mother, brought on by a fatal heart attack. Their father had abandoned them years before and neither of them thought about him much. He simply hadn’t ever been a part of their lives.

  Delight hurried down the back stairs of the large old house. The smell of coffee wafted on the breeze so she knew Miss Nadine was already up and hard at work. Delight paused at the bottom of the stairs and smiled as she watched the older woman bustle around the kitchen.

  Miss Nadine might be in her mid-sixties, but nobody had better suggest she was old, or they’d get a tongue-lashing they might never recover from. Tall, thin, and full of energy, she worked nonstop from morning until night to keep her business running successfully. Her face was long, but her mocha-colored skin was surprisingly smooth and unlined, except for the faint laugh lines around the corners of her mouth and eyes. Always smiling, she kept her thick black hair swept up in a fashionable chignon. She looked more like an aging movie starlet than someone’s grandmother. Her chocolate-brown eyes were shrewd, her heart was as big as an ocean, and Delight loved her like a mother.

  Ten years ago, Delight had shown up on the front doorstep of Miss Nadine Grande’s Bed and Breakfast with little Chase’s hand clasped tightly in hers. Boldly, she’d knocked on the door and announced that she was there about the live-in position of maid/cook/waitress. Delight had worn some of her mother’s makeup, trying her best to look older than her eighteen years. But the truth was, she’d been desperate. Their mother’s death had left them in dire straits. They were being evicted from their apartment at the end of the month, and if she couldn’t find a job she would lose Chase to a foster home.

  Miss Nadine had taken one look at Delight and ushered both her and her brother into the kitchen, where she proceeded to feed them breakfast, all the while dragging their entire life story out of them. She did it so smoothly that the story had been tumbling from Delight’s lips with no way to stop it. Chase had started crying quietly and Delight had picked up her young brother and headed toward the door, knowing she’d blown one of her few employment opportunities.

  She’d never made it out of the kitchen.

  Miss Nadine’s no-nonsense voice stopped her in her tracks, asking her if she could start immediately. They’d packed their belongings and moved into the small attic apartment of the three-story bed-and-breakfast that very day. Delight had worked hard to make sure that Miss Nadine never regretted her decision. The job had been perfect for her, and the two women had forged a deep friendship.

  Chase had benefited the most from the arrangement. Delight was able to be there for him when he got home from school every day. She was able to participate in his school activities while providing a roof over his head and food on the table. But even as a child, Chase had done his share of work around “the Grande,” as they all called it. Now at eighteen, he worked part-time at an art supply store during the school year, keeping himself in pocket money and art supplies. He was a talented sculptor and worked in wood, stone, and metal, selling his creations down at Jackson Square.

  “You gonna stand there all day or do you want some coffee?” Miss Nadine’s smooth tones cut through Delight’s thoughts like a hot knife through butter, making her hurry into the kitchen.

  “Good morning. Sorry you had to start without me.” It was only seven, but her boss already had breakfast well under way.

  The older woman just glared at her as she whipped the batter for her famous pecan pancakes. “You work too hard, child.” She plunked the bowl down on the counter and shook her spoon at Delight. “Here all day and then bartending at that fancy restaurant four nights a week. You need to get out and have some fun. Maybe have a social life.” Grumbling, she tested the griddle before pouring some batter on its hot surface. “When was the last time you had a date?”

  Delight opened her mouth to speak and slowly closed it. She thought and thought but honestly couldn’t remember. It had been . . . years.

  “There you go,” Miss Nadine said as she watched the pancake batter begin to bubble on the top. “Child, I date more than you do and that’s just not right.”

  “I just haven’t met anyone that interests me.” Even as she spoke the words, the man from her dream popped into her head. The mere thought of him sent a shiver down her spine and made her feel all hot and bothered. Moisture pooled between her legs, making her panties damp, and her nipples became hard pebbles pushing against the cups of her bra. To hide her discomfort, she hurried to the cupboard, pulled down a mug, poured herself a cup of coffee, and took a fortifying sip.

  She would not let some figment of her imagination control her life. She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, ignoring the telltale signs of arousal. Keeping her back to Miss Nadine, who usually saw way too much with those laser brown eyes, Delight went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl filled with a variety of fresh fruit. She carried it to the counter and began to peel and section oranges with the ease of long experience.

  “I don’t have time to date. I make good money at Etienne’s and the tips are better than they’d be at a regular restaurant.” Wielding the knife like a machete, she attacked the peaches next. “Chase wants to go to art school and he’s too talented not to get the opportunity.”

  “And what about you, child?” The soft words struck Delight like a cruel whip, lacerating her soul. “What about your wants and dreams?”

  Swallowing hard, Delight tossed the fruit into a large glass bowl and began to pluck green grapes from the bunch. “I’m fine just the way I am.” And she was, she reminded herself, even as she suddenly had to blink back tears. She was doing exactly what she wanted to do. She was giving her brother a home and helping him fulfill his artistic potential. Everything else was secondary. He’d never had a father and really didn’t remember much about their mother. She was all he had.

  Miss Nadine opened her mouth to continue her lecture, but the moment was lost when they heard the stomping of large sneakers coming from the back stairs. Chase came to an abrupt halt when he entered the kitchen. He looked from one woman to the other before proceeding with caution into the room. “Everything okay?” His voice was casual, but his expression showed his concern.

  Chase had always been sensitive, even as a child, and Delight knew that was part of what would help him become a great artist and an even better man. She left what she was doing and walked over to her little brother, tilted her head back, and peered into pale blue eyes that were just like her own. Her little brother was over six feet tall and filling out more and more every day.

  He might be bigger than her, but he still needed reassurance from time to time. She reached up and patted him on the cheek. “Everything is fine. Now, have breakfast so you won’t be late for work.” Now that school was out for the summer, he was getting more hours at the art store and working on his own sculptures in his spare time.

  “You’re sure?” He caught her hand in his much larger, rougher one and gave it a squeeze.

  “I’m sure.” She smiled up at him. All she wanted out of life was for Chase to be happy and to be able to pursue his art. Life was flowing just the way she wanted it to, and if sometimes she was a little lonely or felt an ache in her heart, well, that was just too bad. Her life had been a good one so far and she wouldn’t change a single moment of it.