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"We will return you to the surface now,” Ginger said.
Nikki barely had time to nod before the darkness hit her again.
* * * *
Awareness surged through the link, followed quickly by a flash of red pain. Michael raced onto the patio, wincing at the sun's brightness. It was nine-thirty, and here in the mountains where there were no smog nor high rise buildings to block the sun's heat, he was really pushing his limits. He didn't care. He headed past the pool and tennis courts and out into the meadow. He found her sitting on the same rock as last night.
She looked up when he appeared, her expression troubled. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be inside, out of the sun?"
"What in the hell do you think I'm doing out here?” He squatted in front of her. The wound on her temple was bleeding again, and there was black dirt on her shirt and jeans. The soil around here was a reddish brown. “You've been missing for four damn hours."
Four hours in which he'd gone quietly crazy, imagining the worst. He'd not only searched the grounds thoroughly but had touched the thoughts of every man, woman, and child currently staying at the hotel—whether they were guests or workers. No one had seen her, not even in passing.
"I'm okay,” she said softly. She touched his face, her fingers trailing warmth down his cheek to his lips. But it was a gentle warmth, not the blistering heat of before.
He captured her hand, brushing a kiss across her fingers before rising. “Let's get back to our room, and you can tell me what happened."
She rose, but again was unsteady on her feet. He picked her up and raced back to their room. He set her on the bed then drew the curtains closed. He could feel the heat tingling across his skin. No sense pushing it to extremes.
"So what happened?” He rinsed the washcloth again and began cleaning her wound. She sighed and pushed his hand away. “I feel like Alice." He sat back on his heels, wondering if the knock on her head had addled her brains a little. “Alice?" She smiled slightly. “Yeah. I've just been to Wonderland."
"Oh, that Alice.” He could vaguely remember reading the tale a hundred years or so ago. He handed her the cloth, then rose and walked to the bar. “What hole did you fall into?” he said, pouring them both a drink.
"A big black one.” She accepted her drink with a smile and gave him a quick rundown of the events in the cavern. “Have you ever heard of these flame imps?"
He shook his head. “But as Seline often says, fantasy is a reality we walk every day.” And they had sure as hell seen more than their fair share of the fantastical, be it good or bad. “Seline's doing a check on what entities are known to be in the area. She may come up with them—if not, I'll get her to do another check."
"What about these caverns?” She hesitated and yawned. “Shouldn't we be looking for them?" "Not until you get some sleep,” he said, rising. “I'll head down to the library and see what I can find about the history of this hotel and the geography of the area." She raised an eyebrow, a teasing light suddenly in her eyes. “I promise not to make unwelcome advances if you want to lay down with me."
He smiled slightly. That was a situation he had no intention of getting into—simply because her advances would be welcome. Very welcome.
"You need to rest,” he said, unsure who he was trying to convince.
"I need you more,” she murmured.
She rose and wrapped her hands around his neck, her lips brushing heat across his. He groaned and pulled her close, claiming her mouth. She tasted as warm as sunshine, as rich as honey. Heat flared in the link, a caress that stole past his heart and wrapped around his soul. She was everything he had ever longed for and everything he dared not take.
Her heartbeat pulsed through the silence, an unsteady rhythm that matched his own. His need for her was an ache that sang though his entire being. But deep down, the demon stirred. He dare not embrace what he might just destroy. Until his control was absolute, he would not take the risk of losing himself in her touch.
Even then, it might not be wise. He doubted if he could make love to her and have the strength to walk away from her again.
He pulled back, his breathing a little ragged. “Bedroom tactics will not win the day." Her expression was a picture of mischief. “We'll just have to see, won't we?"
"I'm going,” he said, not trusting her—or himself.
"Like that?” Her gaze scooted down his body, and she grinned. “The staff's female members will be impressed."
He tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans to hide his erection. “Just go to sleep. And don't go anywhere until I get back."
"Only if you promise not to be long."
The low pitch of her voice sent heat racing to his loins and almost shot his control to hell. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and got out of the room.
Chapter Twelve
It was close to four by the time she woke. Nikki yawned and stretched, then felt across the bed with one hand. She'd spent the day alone.
Sighing, she got up and grabbed fresh clothes, then headed into the bathroom. The cut on her hand was little more than a pink scar. Even the cut on her head looked half-healed, though the bruise around it was awful—a big, blackish-purple mass stretching from her temple to just above her eye. Not good, when Michael and she were supposed to be honeymooners. Biting her lip, she studied her reflection for several minutes. It wasn't natural to heal so fast—wasn't human. Ignoring the chill that raced across her skin, she turned on the taps and stepped into the shower.
