Chapter 15

15

J ane stripped her clothes off, admiring the expensive Italian marble bathroom. The shower had a walk-in entry and was large enough to hold five people. There was a marble bench opposite the huge shower nozzle. She tiptoed into the stall and turned on the water. The initial blast was cold, and mist formed a layer of dew on her skin. When the water was hot and steam filled the shower, fogging all the mirrors and doors, she ducked under the spray.

The heat was intoxicating, and she closed her eyes. Her hands rubbed, massaged, and slid over her body, her breasts, down her thighs. The warmth of the water lulled her into a dreamy state of lust. She leaned back against the shower wall, indulging in a fantasy of Bastian. It was his hands cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples. His mouth drew one aching peak between his lips, sucking hard in long pulls that had her fisting her hands in his hair to urge him on.

Smack!

A big shampoo bottle hit the floor and rolled toward the drain. She swallowed several times, trying to force her heart back down from where it had jumped into her throat. She bent over, picked the bottle up, and set it in the stall corner. When she raised her head and looked through the glass shower door, she screamed.

A face stared back at her through the steam. A face that was more bone than flesh, with eyes of flames and blood oozing down its bony cheeks. Strips of hair still clung to the partially decayed scalp, in long greasy tendrils. Even over the sound of rushing water, the creature's ragged breaths scraped over Jane's ears.

Hehhhhh.

Hehhhhh.

The rasping death rattle invaded her mind, challenging every instinct she had to scream.

The creature raised a skeletal finger and carved a word into the steam on the glass.

Mine .

Trails of dark, brownish blood dribbled from the word, mixing with the steam's moisture until pink rivulets trickled down the shower door.

Air flooded Jane's lungs, and she screeched. The figure vanished at the same moment Bastian burst through the bathroom door.

"What happened?"

"Oh, God! Bastian, it was here. It was right here!" She pointed at the door, but the word and the blood were gone. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of what she'd just seen and how it was possible that it had vanished in the next instant.

"What? I don't see anything." His gaze roved over the room, taking in everything with a guarded and protective stare.

"Great, I'm losing it," she mumbled. Her whole body shook so badly she collapsed in the shower.

He peered through the door at her. "Are you all right? I'm coming in."

The soft thud of shoes hitting the marble told her he was joining her. She tucked her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her shins, hiding her nakedness. Despite the chills racking her body, her face still flamed at the thought of him climbing into the shower with her. Rather than strip down, he walked in, slacks, sweater, and all. He cranked the nozzle to make the water even hotter and sat down next to her on the floor, ignoring the fact that he was getting soaked.

"What are you doing? You'll ruin your clothes," she mumbled.

"Doesn't matter." He slid his other arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him.

"What happened?" His warm breath slid over her forehead as he placed a kiss on her temple.

She repressed a shiver of longing.

"It was a ghost. A decaying, rotting thing. It wrote the word ‘mine' in the steam." She wiped at the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She'd never known such fear before, facing true evil. She knew that's what it was. Evil . And it terrified her. Seeing Isabelle on the cliff hadn't scared her, it only made her sad. This…this creature in the bathroom. That hadn't been like Isabelle. It was pure evil.

"I believe you. I saw it, too…only it was outside in the garden. It was…"—He hesitated— "Chasing Isabelle to the cliffs. It stopped and looked up at me and…" This time he didn't continue.

"Even though the body's gone…she's still here. Cordelia is still here. Just like Isabelle said." She shivered. "What are we going to do? How do you get rid of a ghost? Should we call a priest and have an exorcism?"

"I don't know. She's gone for now. Don't let her frighten you. I'm here with you, Jane. She can't touch you while I'm here."

She wanted to believe him, and he made it so easy to. He was strong and brave, even if a bit close-minded about ghosts. Of course, he was starting to believe her now. He was seeing things too, and that was bad news because it meant what they were seeing was real.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, sucking her index finger into his mouth. It was the perfect distraction, replacing her terror with sexual hunger.

Damn the man, he was too perfect. Heat pooled between her thighs, and she leaned into him, watching his lips move around her finger. He released her finger and raised his eyes to hers. The faintest glimmer of a shadow flitted past his irises.

"Kiss me, Jane." His gruff tone made her body quiver deliciously.

There was no thinking after that, only action. She turned in his arms, her lips seeking his. They shared a groan as her breasts pressed against his chest. She gripped the bottom of his sweater and tore it off him. He pulled her onto her feet, and she kissed him while he rid himself of his slacks and boxers. He kissed back in playful, aggressive nibbles that had her body flashing between his heat and the press of cool marble behind her.

He growled when her exploring hands brushed his straining cock. She glanced down, eyes widening at his impressive length. There is no way…

"You can take me, Jane. You can take all of me."

His hungry gaze raked over her bare breasts and between her thighs. A look so possessive, so hot she could actually feel it on her skin.

He ran his hands up and down her arms, soothing her. She licked her lips, craving to taste him, her body screaming for his. Without another word, he gripped her waist and pulled her flush against him. His cock nestled against her belly, and he thrust his tongue between her lips, owning her mouth. He guided her back against the shower wall, cupping her ass, lifted her, and shoved a knee between her thighs, spreading her open. When he broke the kiss to gaze down at her center, she blushed scarlet and tried to close her legs. Vulnerability blazed in her, making her weak and scared of what he might think.

"You're so beautiful." He parted her folds with one finger, tracing heated patterns in the sensitive flesh.

She trembled and gripped his shoulders for support. He was undoing all of her defenses with that wicked touch.

"Do you want me inside you? I'll make love to you, slow, hard. I'll part this soft flesh, drive inside you until you scream… Do you want that?" The edge to his tone only made her wetter. She loved that he gave into his passion completely.

The ferocity etched in his handsome features made her whimper with need. She needed his raw passion, needed his animal lust to take over. He placed himself at her entrance, waited for her impatient nod and shoved inside.

His first thrust was fast and hard, everything he promised. She threw her head back and arched away from the wall as he withdrew and slammed home. The sensation of him filling her, merging their bodies in an explosion of bliss caught her completely unprepared. Had sex ever felt like this? Like heaven and earth and every breathless second in between?

"Bastian!" His name was a breathless prayer on her lips. A plea for more.

His hands dug into her hips as he held her still for his ramming hips.

The hiss of water around them and rhythmic sounds of their flesh striking together was so hot that she panted, her body on fire and restless with the need to come. Her heels sank into his lower back, holding him to her. He snarled and dropped his head to her neck, sinking his teeth in her skin to hold her in place. The rough love bite sent her over the edge.

An orgasm burst through her, flooding her senses with a euphoria of dark, sinful pleasure. She surrendered to the riptide of sensations and slumped against the wall. He kept thrusting, little feral growls escaping his throat, vibrating against her neck, making her body ripple with mini-orgasms.

He came with a roar, pressing deep inside her. He rolled his hips tight against hers, riding out his own pleasure, as though determined to keep them as close as possible. His forehead rested against hers as they shared breath, eyes closed.

"Bloody hell…Jane…" He groaned. "I didn't think about protection. I just lost my mind when I kissed you."

She stroked his face with her fingertips, making his eyelashes fan open. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." She nibbled his lower lip. "I like that you lost control."

Hot water pelted his back and shoulders, and she leaned forward to lick the beading droplets off his skin. He shifted and groaned softly as though agonized by the ecstasy of her tongue on his flesh. There was something wildly intimate about that moment. Nothing between them, no secrets. Just two beating hearts in time and the comfort of human touch.

He cleared his throat. "Jane, I'm sorry I took advantage…"

She captured his lips, silencing the unnecessary apology. She offered him her acceptance by stroking his hair, his back, any part of him she could reach.

"I wanted that more than you," she murmured against his lips.

He smiled crookedly and took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it until she gasped in pleasure and arched. His cock jerked to life inside her.

"I wouldn't make that bet, darling."

"Oh?" Her lashes fluttered open. Surely he didn't mean…

"I've had only the most wicked thoughts about you. I'm betting a few of them are illegal in some countries."

His teasing tone and the carnal promise of his words had her clit pulsing and her legs shaking with anticipation. Little aftershocks of pleasure kept rippling through her as he continued to play with her, sweet, gentle, but no less seductive.

"You're a genuine bad boy, eh?" She laughed, trying not to squirm as he rocked into her, their bodies still connected.

He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "More than you know."

Bastian insisted on properly washing her, and it wasn't just an excuse to keep touching her. That was merely a bonus. Truthfully, he needed to care for her. She'd been through so much since coming here, and he felt somehow responsible.

She leaned back against him as he soaped her body. Her surrender was amazing. She was willing to trust him completely with her body. His past relationships had been with volatile, passionate, and wild women, and he'd enjoyed the roller coaster. Jane was different. She was sweet, curious, passionate, and trusting. All it took was one look from her bedroom eyes, and he had trouble keeping control of his own release. He'd taken her raw, dirty, and rough, and she'd had the audacity to smile like a sleepy kitten and nuzzle him afterward.

"You're quite a woman, Jane." He licked the delicate shell of her ear.

She answered with a shivery little sigh, her lashes fanning out across her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

He turned her in his arms and kissed her, his hands sliding down the slope of her back and over her backside. She arched into him, an invitation to take what he desperately needed.

"Round two?" he asked between kisses.

"I demand nothing less." She laughed breathlessly.

Without another word, he swept her back over his arm, trailing kisses down her neck to her breasts. Taking time to explore the tender peaks with his teeth and tongue, he delighted in the little moans and gasps she made as he bit and sucked on each nipple. Her hands roamed his shoulders before stopping in his hair, tugging fiercely on the strands when he played a little rough with her breasts.

When neither of them could stand another minute of his sensual torture, he backed them up so he could sit on the bench in the shower, the hot spray covering them.

"Straddle me," he growled as he pulled her down on his lap.

"I've never done…" She blushed but he captured her mouth with his, distracting her from her embarrassment before he showed her how to guide him into her body. She hissed softly when she took him all the way inside.

"Oh God!" She threw her head back, her breasts thrust out like tantalizing offerings and he couldn't resist.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, tugging gently on the strands to keep her head back and her breasts close to his mouth. With urging from his hips, she soon learned to ride him in a wild rhythm that wound him so tight and kept him so hard he couldn't remember his name. There was nothing beyond the ecstasy of being with her, feeling her silken sheath wrapped around him, her cries filling his ears. When they flew apart in each others' arms, he saw something so deep, so pure in her eyes that it stopped time. For a second he couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, he simply stared back, lost in her gaze, hoping he reflected back what he was feeling and seeing in her eyes.

"Bastian…" His name trembled off her lips before she buried her face in his neck, pressing light kisses on his skin.

"Jane," he whispered back, her name a midnight prayer.

Neither of them said anything more as they cleaned themselves again. It was Jane who finally broke the silence.

"What are we going to do about Cordelia?"

He shut off the water, helped her out of the shower, and then wrapped her in a white, fluffy towel. He ignored her question, not wanting to answer it, and covered her head with the towel.

She freed her face from the towel with an irritated little huff and glared.

"Well?"

"Could we table this discussion? Or better yet, can I just have sex with you on the table? That's a much better idea. I did promise to ravish you after all."

He smiled as her eyelids dropped to half-mast and she licked her lips. Then she seemed to come back to herself.

"Seriously, we have to come up with a plan. We can't just sit around and let her pick us off one by one. Not doing anything about a ghost is how horror movies start." She turned her back on him and stalked out of the bathroom. She put on her pj's, covering up all that delectable skin he hadn't yet tasted.

"We will have a plan. Tomorrow." He followed her into the bedroom.

"We might be dead by then." Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but the effect was lessened by the cute way she shrugged her shoulders and finished buttoning her top. The move appeared effortless, casual, but when she caught him watching, her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her face bashfully.

"We won't be. You've been watching too many horror movies." He gripped the collar of her top. "Tomorrow we'll find out more about Cordelia Huntington."

When her eyes narrowed with obvious skepticism, he tugged her to him, kissing her. It was a much-needed diversion for them both. His tongue danced with hers, melting the chill of the night, and she relaxed in his arms. Her soft lips erased the awful memory of seeing that phantom with the rotting face in the garden.

He clutched her harder, using her healing sensuality to rescue himself from the brink of madness. That's what this was.

Madness .

It was insane to fall for a nosy American who was determined to write a dissertation on his family. Insane to think he could restore a castle when his workforce jumped at every shadow. But the worst part was that he'd seen things he couldn't explain. The figure in the garden, the woman in the white dress who vanished over a cliff, and that vision in the drawing room.

The shield of disbelief he erected as a small boy against the darkness and the monsters crumbled against the evidence there was more in the shadows than he wanted to believe.

Ghosts do exist .

When she wrapped her arms tight about his waist and sighed against his throat, he knew it was time to sleep. He lifted her into his arms, enjoying her feminine gasp of surprise as he set her down in his bed.

When he straightened, his body blocked out the light from the window, shrouding Jane in darkness. Moonlight tread around him on cat's paws, unable to reach her. An ancient primal fear rose within him at the sight of her, as though his soul recognized she was in danger.

"Bastian?" She opened her arms to him, inviting him to join her. The fortress of stone guarding his heart shuddered and quaked against her sweet entreaty.

"Hold me." She waved her hands, begging him to move closer.

The walls inside him crumbled like those of Jericho after a trumpet call. He climbed into bed and wrapped his body around hers. He buried his face in her wet hair, the peppermint-tea aroma of his shampoo became a new drug to his system.

Am I lost? Can one lose one's soul to another?

"Yes…" The reply came back in a silvery voice, faded by death and centuries.

Bastian's eyes flew open, scanning the room for an intruder.

It was empty, save for himself and Jane.