and questioned him, but with you to worry about, I chose to scare him off by cocking the shotgun.”
He said it like his decision was her fault. “If you’d been here alone, there wouldn’t have been an intruder. He was after the mask.”
“You don’t know that. He could have been breaking in because he had something to do with Chuck’s poisoning.”
“Poisoning? What poisoning?” Then she shook her head. “And we do know he was after the mask, because it told us.”
Rhys grimaced and, with the hand that wasn’t holding a loaded shotgun, rubbed his temple. He glanced at the bed’s rumpled sheets, proof they’d done more than cuddle in the dream state, then down at his T-shirt and sweatpants, proof there was a line between dream and reality that hadn’t been crossed. “Let’s move this conversation into the living room. We need to talk.”
She let out a sharp laugh that held a bitter edge. “That’s an understatement.” She stepped toward the door.
He held up a hand. “Someone just tried to break in. I go first.”
He leaned the shotgun in the corner, then pulled out a small hard-sided suitcase flagged with special security tags and flipped the latch. The lid popped up, and he plucked what could only be a gun case from inside. She watched as he efficiently rammed a magazine into a pistol and checked the load. “You don’t handle the gun like a lawyer.”
He shrugged. “I served in the army prior to law school. Two tours in Iraq as an explosive ordnance disposal specialist. I know guns, bombs, pretty much anything that explodes.”
“That must be why the mask chose you.”
“Chose me?”
“It’s been haunting me for two months. In all that time, it’s never reached out to anyone else until you. I think it chose you because you can protect it in a way I can’t.”
R hys studied Sienna. He had a feeling the mask had chosen him to protect Sienna , not the mask, because the ancient piece of carved wood could, clearly, take care of itself.
The dream had started with her being threatened by her client, and he’d been flooded with a sharp need to defend her. Plus, what better way to convince him to protect her than to put them in bed together? He’d never been a sex-without-emotions kind of guy, and already he felt strangely primal about her, and yet they were virtual strangers. He’d kissed her before stepping out to face the intruder, as if it were natural. As if she were his. It had been uncontrollable, that kiss. A reflex.
And he wanted to do it again. And again. Hell, he wanted to bury himself deep inside her and reach the climax that had been just beyond reach in the sexiest, most intense dream of his life.
A dream that hadn’t been a dream at all. Dreams were solitary, while that experience was decidedly not.
Yet he didn’t even know if he liked her. Or could trust her. Or if she had anything to do with Chuck’s poisoning.
She had the mask. That alone should have him questioning her as if she were a hostile witness. Or, more likely, defendant.
Time to get a grip and find out what the hell was going on. “Coffee?” he asked as she followed him into the living room.
She bit her lip, which he’d seen her do once or twice, but now it felt achingly familiar, like something he’d seen a million times. Something he wanted to see a million more. “I haven’t been sleeping well since the mask started messing with me. I gave up caffeine, hoping it would help.”
“Has it?”
“No.”
“Do you like coffee?”
“After my sisters, coffee is my best friend in the world.”
He laughed and stepped into the kitchen to brew a pot. While he was there he stepped into the utility room and moved her clothes into the dryer, noting as he did so that her underwear was very sexy.
After the coffee was ready, he dropped down on the couch beside her and handed her a steaming mug.
The couch. Where the dream had begun. She looked sleepy and tousled, and he wanted to see if she
He said it like his decision was her fault. “If you’d been here alone, there wouldn’t have been an intruder. He was after the mask.”
“You don’t know that. He could have been breaking in because he had something to do with Chuck’s poisoning.”
“Poisoning? What poisoning?” Then she shook her head. “And we do know he was after the mask, because it told us.”
Rhys grimaced and, with the hand that wasn’t holding a loaded shotgun, rubbed his temple. He glanced at the bed’s rumpled sheets, proof they’d done more than cuddle in the dream state, then down at his T-shirt and sweatpants, proof there was a line between dream and reality that hadn’t been crossed. “Let’s move this conversation into the living room. We need to talk.”
She let out a sharp laugh that held a bitter edge. “That’s an understatement.” She stepped toward the door.
He held up a hand. “Someone just tried to break in. I go first.”
He leaned the shotgun in the corner, then pulled out a small hard-sided suitcase flagged with special security tags and flipped the latch. The lid popped up, and he plucked what could only be a gun case from inside. She watched as he efficiently rammed a magazine into a pistol and checked the load. “You don’t handle the gun like a lawyer.”
He shrugged. “I served in the army prior to law school. Two tours in Iraq as an explosive ordnance disposal specialist. I know guns, bombs, pretty much anything that explodes.”
“That must be why the mask chose you.”
“Chose me?”
“It’s been haunting me for two months. In all that time, it’s never reached out to anyone else until you. I think it chose you because you can protect it in a way I can’t.”
R hys studied Sienna. He had a feeling the mask had chosen him to protect Sienna , not the mask, because the ancient piece of carved wood could, clearly, take care of itself.
The dream had started with her being threatened by her client, and he’d been flooded with a sharp need to defend her. Plus, what better way to convince him to protect her than to put them in bed together? He’d never been a sex-without-emotions kind of guy, and already he felt strangely primal about her, and yet they were virtual strangers. He’d kissed her before stepping out to face the intruder, as if it were natural. As if she were his. It had been uncontrollable, that kiss. A reflex.
And he wanted to do it again. And again. Hell, he wanted to bury himself deep inside her and reach the climax that had been just beyond reach in the sexiest, most intense dream of his life.
A dream that hadn’t been a dream at all. Dreams were solitary, while that experience was decidedly not.
Yet he didn’t even know if he liked her. Or could trust her. Or if she had anything to do with Chuck’s poisoning.
She had the mask. That alone should have him questioning her as if she were a hostile witness. Or, more likely, defendant.
Time to get a grip and find out what the hell was going on. “Coffee?” he asked as she followed him into the living room.
She bit her lip, which he’d seen her do once or twice, but now it felt achingly familiar, like something he’d seen a million times. Something he wanted to see a million more. “I haven’t been sleeping well since the mask started messing with me. I gave up caffeine, hoping it would help.”
“Has it?”
“No.”
“Do you like coffee?”
“After my sisters, coffee is my best friend in the world.”
He laughed and stepped into the kitchen to brew a pot. While he was there he stepped into the utility room and moved her clothes into the dryer, noting as he did so that her underwear was very sexy.
After the coffee was ready, he dropped down on the couch beside her and handed her a steaming mug.
The couch. Where the dream had begun. She looked sleepy and tousled, and he wanted to see if she
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