Page 95 of Beyond the Grave
He wanted to show me his appreciation? That was all? I suppose, given his refusal to take our kiss to its natural next step, it was all I could hope for.
I waited for him to say something further, but he did not. He touched his finger to his lips and I had the impression he was silencing himself. But that could have been my imagination. It tended to run rampant where Lincoln was concerned.
After a drawn-out moment, which felt like it lasted five minutes but was probably only five seconds, I stood. "Goodnight, Lincoln."
He looked up and blinked in surprise. Did he want me to stay longer? Why? I knew whyIwanted to stay, and I hoped he had the same thoughts, but I wasn't going to throw myself into his lap and kiss him all over like I wanted to. If he wanted to change the situation between us then he would have to instigate it. I was tired of his seesawing emotions. My heart still bore the bruises of his rejection. He knew how I felt, and it was now up to him to do something about it if he wished. I was no longer going to make a fool of myself where he was concerned.
"Goodnight," he muttered, reaching for the bottle on the table beside him.
Black hair splayedacross white pillow. Red blood blooming over white sheets. Lincoln was dead and not even his spirit could hear my scream.
I awoke with a start and the sensation that I was not alone in the bedroom. "Lincoln," I said on impulse.
"I'm here." He stood close to the bed, his face in shadow.
He was here.But why?
Chapter 16
"It was only a dream," I said, as much to reassure myself as Lincoln. I passed a trembling hand across my eyes and sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm my rapidly beating heart. It didn't work, and I felt more unraveled than ever. I hadn't been this shaken when I'd first seen the dead man I'd thought was Lincoln.
To my utter horror, my face crumpled and my emotions gushed to the surface. I pulled up my legs and embraced them, then buried my face on my knees. I bit my lip hard in an effort to keep silent.
The mattress beside me sank, and Lincoln's arm came around my shoulders. He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and I leaned into him. He was solid andalive. Thank God. His warmth seeped through my nightdress, chasing away the chill that had crept into me through my dreams. How could a man so versed in the art of cool emotions be so warm?
I didn't dare think what his presence in my room meant. Perhaps it meant nothing. Perhaps it was his way of being protective. All I knew was that I liked the way he held me, and the way I could feel his heart beating, and smell the scent of spicy soap on his skin. I liked how I was now thinking of these things and not my nightmare.
I adjusted my position and tucked my head under his chin. His arm tightened, much to my surprise. I'd expected him to withdraw and mutter a conviction that it wouldn't happen again.
"Better?" His voice rumbled through his body, sending vibrations through mine.
"Yes. Thank you for waking me."
"I wasn't sure if it was the best thing to do or not."
"It was. Believe me, I'd rather be awake all night that dream…that."
I expected him to ask me what it was about, but he didn't.
"I must have been loud for you to hear me from your rooms."
"I couldn't hear you. Not in the literal sense."
"You sensed me?"
He nodded. "This time you called my name. That's why I came."
I pulled away to look at him. "This time?"
"I often sense you having nightmares, although they have lessened considerably these last few weeks. Until tonight." His face was close to mine, but it was too dark to see more than his silhouette. "I don't like that you have nightmares about me," he murmured, stroking my hair.
"You do know that you're not the villain in my nightmares, don't you?"
"I…wasn't certain."
Oh, Lincoln."I was afraidforyou, notofyou. That man in the bed…the one who killed himself…" I shook my head. The memory was still too raw to discuss it.
He cupped my cheek. "Tell me what to do to stop them."
