More Than Just Baser Instincts.

I stared at the ceiling, counting every little snowflake that decorated the plaster. My hair was a mess, my eyes were bloodshot, and my body was so exhausted that the level of “sleep-deprived” sounded heavenly. But I was not going to close my eyes ever again!

The night had been spent tossing and turning. When I wasn't doing one or the other, I was having nightmare after nightmare about a man who should have been the farthest thing from my mind! Okay, it wasn't really nightmare after nightmare; it was the same nightmare, over and over again, as if my mind only knew how to loop the same story until death sounded so sweet! The first time, it had seemed too real to stand it; the next twenty-some times it had felt less believable but still infuriating.

He watched me from across the room, his olive eyes striking out at me much like how a cat's eyes glisten beneath moonlight. I glowered at him, hating that I knew exactly who it was even though the only light was provided by the stars in the sky. My arms were crossed firmly over my chest to reveal my attitude toward him, but it only seemed to urge him onward as he strode up to me on his long legs. He had reached the bed in seconds, remaining on his feet as if he at least had half of a brain.

“Elaine,” he breathed, leaning toward me with his head cocked slightly to the side.

It was the same way he had approached me before he kissed me.

“Don't even think about it, Romeo wanna-be,” I spat, putting my hand on his chest to show him that distance was desirable—and necessary. “We're over, get it? Forever. As in, you and me—never going to happen again.”

“So you'll be alone for the rest of your life, then?”

“When exactly did I say that?”

That disgusting smirk crept onto his damnably delectable lips, and my face scrunched up in complete disgust. What was even more disgusting was that I wasn't disgusted by his seductive grin; I was disgusted at myself for wanting to have anything to do with that revolting mouth!

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, suddenly much too close for comfort. I tried to push him away, but he wrenched my wrists out of the air and pinned them to the bed. The wind was effectively knocked out of my lungs, and he took the opportunity to taunt me by saying, “Any man after me will be nothing to you, remember?” I knocked my head to the side in an attempt to prove that his words were not welcome in my ears. “Any other man's touch will revolt you to the point that you'll be screaming for me to come save you.” His hand caressed my cheek, and I slammed my eyes shut. “Any other man's lips will feel so foreign and disgusting against your skin.” He peppered warm kisses along my jaw before catching my chin and forcing me to look him in the eye. “Any other man's presence will not be welcome within five meters of you, and I will not tolerate him breaking that invisible line. Do you know why?”

I shook my head, sucking on my lower lip as I tried to ignore the way that his eyes burned into mine.

“It is because you always have and always will be mine, Elaine,” he hissed, suddenly so angry. I tried to cry out, but he slapped a hand over my mouth and glowered at me further. “You are mine, damn it! I'll be drawn and quartered before I allow anyone near you, and I will kill anyone that so much as remotely touches you in the same way as only I am allowed to touch you! Are we clear, Elaine? Do we understand each other?”

I averted my gaze, now biting on my lip to keep myself from obeying him in even the loosest form of the word. My body screamed to obey this man, that he would care for us until we died, but my brain told me that my body was on some seriously illegal medication.

A gasp ripped through my lips when my body was jerked upward suddenly, and I gawked at him as he threw my nightgown aside. I was about to ask what in the hell he thought he was doing, but he gently trailed his hands up my thighs and only stopped once he reached my hips. Exquisite torture. This was torture. A groan slipped past me, but he did not crack any remark about it.

“I ask you again, Elaine,” he whispered, moving onto the bed and hovering above me. His lips were dangerously close to my neck. “Will anyone else be caught here trying to give you the shivers of pleasure that we both know only I can offer to you?”

“There have been men before you,” I breathed, trying to get a rise out of him.

He pulled back, almost laughing. “I know. Just be glad I don't know their names; they would be dead for so much as dreaming about you, love.”

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

Quince smiled that charmer's smile of his, caught my chin in his hand, and leaned so close that our lips just barely touched. “You will never receive any malice from me, but you will see your fair share of punishments—as I see fit—if you choose to be such a little minx about things. Though...judging by the way your chest is heaving, I don't think it will be such a terrible thing for you.”

My face burned, but before I could yell at him he pulled my lower lip into his teeth and laughed.

But then he rolled, flipping us both around so I was straddling his hips. I was sure my entire body resembled a tomato at that moment.

He propped himself onto his elbows, kissing me chastely and flicking off the first button of his shirt. “Love, I am all yours tonight. I could leave right now, but I doubt you would be comfortable enough to sleep. You look so stressed, sweetheart.” He caught my hands and slipped them under his shirt. His skin tingled beneath my fingers, and I groaned. “What will it be: I can leave right now, or you can have me for a bit of a slumber party. The choice is completely yours, but no matter the choice I will know what you wanted.” He reached up and brushed his thumb across my lips. “And you'll know what I wanted as well.”

It was just a dream. That was what I told myself. I was dreaming, and I was high-strung and desperate for a cure. That was the only reason I would ever so much as touch the hand of such a disgusting ogre!

Regardless of my shame, he threw the blankets onto me and padded over to his clothes. Once he had retrieved them, he walked back to me to drop my own clothes on me and offer a chaste kiss before slipping out my bedroom window. I changed quickly before my head fell back onto the pillow, my eyes drifting to the window where he had just been.

I had been awake for two hours now, refusing to close my eyes and relive the horrifying experience. My eyes drifted to the window, which was firmly shut as it had been since I first checked in. No one had been in here; hell, like he could have even opened it from the outside. A smile formed of my lips; Quince had not been here, and I had not made another mistake with him.

The sky was still dark, but the sun would peer over the horizon in an hour or so.

I glanced to the window again, my mind beginning to drift to thoughts of the field of asters.

Just before I had gone into daydreaming, something caught my eye for just a split second: a pair of large, feral eyes set on a furry face.

In college, during my zoology class, we had studied the large cats of the wild. Outside my window, with no doubt in my mind, a Transvaal Lion sat as still as a statue.

His broad shoulders easily supported his massive body, and his tawny mane was fuller than the mane of any lion I had ever seen in a textbook. I was sure his paws could tear me to pieces, and the only thing more intimidating than his claws and the powerful muscles hidden beneath his gleaming coat were the sharp incisors that could kill me before I could even think about screaming. What's worse was that the slits he called eyes were focused entirely on me, sizing me up.

I shook my head furiously and rubbed my eyes in a panic. Surely I was insane!

Then he was gone.

I took a hesitant step toward my window, not entirely sure if I wanted to risk this; but the dominant beast was gone. This was crazy! Why would there be a lion in a village called Home, Oregon? I laughed it off, swatting away the thought with a limp hand before moving to the small computer desk in the corner of my room.

Every part of me screamed that I would make myself miserable by checking that web page before my day had even begun, but since when did I listen to reason? With a loud sigh, I dropped onto the computer chair and flipped open my laptop and clicked the internet icon.

As expected, there was absolutely no activity on the job in Illinois, and that caused a heavy sigh to tremble through my chest. I moved my attention to the dream job here. But with how I had handled Quince yesterday, I was not surprised to have not heard back from the school board.

Except there was a new message!

I blinked twice. It was still there, so I rubbed my eyes and willed it to disappear like the imaginary lion. Only it didn't! I glanced around, entirely suspicious, before scrambling to click to email that had apparently been sent only hours after I fell asleep (and before that nightmare started looping, thus making sleep impossible!).

“Ms. Porter,
It is my pleasure to contact you on behalf of the school board of Fieldside Preparatory. While many applicants have joined the pool, it is seldom that we can put a name to a face and character to that same face. We would love to have you in for an interview, and I look forward to meeting you. Mr. Baum provided us with a very positive review, one I hope is true; if so, the interview will only be a formality.
Our warmest regards from the staff at Fieldside,
Richard Heckler; Human Resources Rep.”

I could have groaned: Quince vouched for me? Now my storming off made me feel like more of an ass than I believed him to be! Why did he have to go and do that?

My eyes drifted to the ink that was still perfectly legible on my hand. Had he used a permanent marker? I licked my thumb and rubbed it against the markings.

Yes, he certainly had.

I fiddled with the land-line phone for a few minutes, not sure if I wanted to do this. Hell, what were the chances he was even awake? It was hardly five in the morning! But... Then I could feel better about things without even having to speak to him! The plan was ingenious!

“Well, I should bid you good morning, but the clock on my nightstand disagrees with that sentiment.”

Damn!

“Hello?” he asked, noting my silence. I lingered with the phone above the receiver, my hand shaking as I tried to decide if I should answer or not. “I'll have you know that I have Caller I.D., sweetheart, and I highly doubt that Mr. Burgess would be calling me at five in the morning. That leaves only the delectable yet elusive Elaine.”

“Damn it!” I hissed, jerking the phone to my ear. “Aren't you just so smart?”

“I get by,” he sighed, sounding as if he had just awoke. I'd bet his hair was tousled and messy, that warm, sexy look on his face... Ugh! “I can't say I thought I'd be hearing from you; I thought you'd be a bit...livid after I...you know.”

My blood all but froze. But no, he couldn't possibly know about my dream. He wasn't a magician who could read minds; he was, as he had said, just another local.

“Yeah, I was—am,” I corrected, sighing into the phone. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have. “But it's early. I can catch you another time.”

“But I'm awake now.”

I grumbled under my breath. “Then why did you do it?”

“You're going to have to be more specific. As I can recall, I've done quite a bit.”

“You know what I'm talking about! The school board emailed me, and they said that you provided quite the review. What do you even know about me?”

“Well, I know that you're sexy as hell, but of course I didn't tell Rick that,” he muttered, laughing suddenly. “What could I say? I said that you're an open book, which is great when dealing with kids—doesn't confuse them, you know. You're trustworthy, have already established yourself in this community, and have managed to greet everyone with a smile even though you are a bit exotic for the area. It might have also been mentioned that you carry yourself with a bright demeanor, though you may want to keep your sarcastic comments to yourself during that interview of yours.”

“Hold the phone,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “Just how am I an open book?”

He laughed again, but it was a quiet laugh that was almost a whisper that matched his tone when he murmured, “Babe, I can read you from cover to cover in two seconds flat.”

“One night of sex hardly makes you an expert on me.”

“Like that's what I meant,” he scoffed, and I could almost picture him rolling those smoky eyes of his. “If you actually cared to stop scorning me all the time, maybe you'd see that I'm just as readable to you as you are to me.”

“And what does that even mean?”

He sighed, and then a yawn filled my ear. “Listen, it's late. Your interview is at five o'clock (I told them that you'd be free; I'll stay away from you for twenty-four hours somehow), so try to get some rest...if you can.”

“Now what does that mean!” I huffed, glaring at my hands as they twisted angrily in my lap.

His voice was a husky whisper when he said, “I have trouble sleeping, too, when my every dream leads to you writhing beneath my fingertips.”

I would have yelled at him if not for the fact that the line went dead then, leaving me effectively humiliated and bothered.

“You are so full of it,” I hissed into the empty phone, slamming it back down and crawling into bed.

I was tired, and maybe I could change the dream to tell him exactly what I wanted to do to him: kick out a few of his pretty, white teeth!