Forsaken Talisman Page 8

  She followed the path of the hair, lowering her gaze to his jeans. She was looking almost straight up the long stretch of his legs. His bare feet were crossed at the ankle merely a foot from where she lay. The denim showed more than it hid, a bulge obvious beneath the tight fabric. Her nipples beaded beneath her soft nightgown. She remembered the way he’d looked at her earlier, the effect she’d had on him. She swallowed again and licked her lips.

  A low, deep moan startled her and she looked up into Dusty’s passion-slitted eyes. A slow grin full of erotic promise covered his face. “I know I told you earlier I’d keep my hands and body to myself, but if you keep looking at me that way with those big, gorgeous eyes, I just might change my mind.”

  The red heat of a blush, mixed with the heat of his stare, warmed her body. She rolled onto her back but not before she saw his grin widen even further. The bed shifted as he moved his legs to the floor, and then dipped again as he sat down on the edge.

  “Sorry about that, sweetheart. I promise, hands to myself. I swear it. You just caught me by surprise. How are you feeling?”

  She rolled back onto her side facing him but didn’t meet his gaze. “Okay, I guess.” She paused. “I’m sorry for fighting with you earlier, Dusty. I wasn’t in my right mind, although I still don’t know what my right mind is.”

  “Look at me, sweetheart. You know my name?” She lifted her head and met his confused stare. “Mariah?”

  She reached out her hand and touched his arm, then pulled it away as his heat sparked a fire inside her. Why did I touch him? But she knew the answer. It was a familiar touch, one that Mariah had done to Dusty often.

  “No, not Mariah…not anyone.” She sighed then gave him a small smile to cover her body’s confusing reaction to his closeness. “I know you because I still have Mariah’s memories. I think. I mean, I think they’re Mariah’s memories because they’re not my own. I don’t have any of my own…” She struggled to find the right words but didn’t know how to explain her strange situation. “I’m not explaining this very well. I remember you, but I don’t know you or me for that matter, and what I remember may not be altogether correct. Does that make sense?”

  Dusty smiled at her. “Yeah, I guess it makes about as much sense as everything else that’s happened tonight.” He stretched his legs out on the bed, reclining upright against some pillows. His body was only about six very short inches away from hers and impossible to ignore. She tried to minutely distance herself by pulling the blankets up tight around her neck.

  At her actions, he threw her a concerned glance. “This all right with you? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  She gulped. What kind of behavior would be the best? Hell, doing a strip tease in front of him would probably produce a desired response in both of them. The man was certainly built to physically please a woman.

  His concerned look slowly morphed into a seductive grin and he winked. “Do you trust me?”

  Oh, so he was teasing her now, was he? She was tempted to call his bluff, say a few things to shake that cocky grin off his face. Yes, I trust you and no, don’t be on your best behavior? Help me create some memories of my own? But what would she do if he took her up on her offer?

  She sighed and rolled over in bed, giving him her back and dismissing her mischievous thoughts. “Sure. Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me. Just don’t hog the blankets and do stay on your side of the bed. I’m going to sleep.”

  He chuckled and then she felt something soft and fluffy being pressed against her back. She sat up. “What are you doing?”

  “Pillow barrier.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’ll keep me on my side.”

  “Oh. Good idea.” She lay back down, this time focused on the rock ceiling above her head. Dusty finished setting up the pillows then lay down next to her. She couldn’t think about his nearness, about how Mariah’s memory of Dusty’s sweet and funny side was wearing down her defenses. But she could add that to the things she knew about herself. She had defenses against hopping into bed with an unknown man. Good for her! Although Dusty wasn’t completely unknown. She mentally smacked herself, trying to take her mind off her inner struggle. “So, we’re in a cave?”

  “Yep.”

  “Cool.”

  Silence followed and she started to relax, eyes closing, preparing to go back to sleep. Maybe she could do this, sleep with a strange man and actually sl—

  “So, you don’t remember who you are?”

  Or not… She closed her eyes and tried to focus on memories, her memories, something below the now obvious layer of implanted ones. She came up empty-minded. “Not at all. When I try, there’s nothing there.”

  She’d spoken too soon. A spark of who she used to be shone through the darkness of her mind. She focused on that spark of life, tried to pull it closer. She was in there! Her heart raced as she battled with her mind. A single fragment of light split from the spark, shooting at her fast, furious, painfully. She screamed as it slammed into her consciousness.

  And then it winked out and was gone.

  “Whoa, sweetheart. You okay? C’mon, baby, talk to me.”

  She blinked her eyes open. Dusty’s face, tense with worry, was right above hers. His body partially covered hers, almost as though he’d been holding her down. One hand was on her face, wiping away tears she didn’t remember shedding. “What’s going on? Are you okay, sweetheart? Tell me what happened. Is something trying to hurt you?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. Even that slight movement caused residual pain to flare up inside her mind. She knew there would be no more memories uncovered tonight. But now she had a place to start.

  She took a deep breath, trying to bring herself back to full awareness. How long had she been out? Moments? Hours? It was too hard to tell. Her body felt tense and tight as though all of her muscles had gone rigid during her internal struggle. She shifted under Dusty’s weight and realized something else. Her left hand was locked around his forearm, his blood wet beneath her fingers where her nails had pierced his skin.

  With a gasp, she unclenched her hand, sliding it uselessly down his arm. A smear of blood followed her hand’s path. “Dusty, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Shhh…it’s okay. What happened?” He cupped her face in the palm of his hand, showing such tender concern for her it almost made her cry again. How did he know exactly what she needed him to do? With his other hand he brushed several strands of hair away from her face.

  “I remembered something, Dusty.” She met his caring eyes and gave him a small smile. “Skylar. My name is Skylar.”

  Chapter Six

  “That’s a beautiful name, Skylar. It fits you.” Dusty smiled down at the woman still trembling beneath him. He ran his hands over her hair, trying to comfort her. “Don’t try to remember anything else, okay? You scared the shit out of me.”

  That was an understatement. One minute they’d been talking, and then the next she’d been convulsing on the bed next to him, the expression on her face one of sheer terror, her eyes darting back and forth under her closed eyelids. Whatever Craze had done to her, Dusty swore he’d make the bastard pay. She’d latched her hand onto his arm so tightly she’d drawn blood, but that was nothing compared to the blood of Craze’s that Dusty wanted to spill.

  Skylar’s tongue darted out to nervously lick her lips. “I think I’m okay now…just tired.”

  “All the same, don’t do that again.” Dusty forced a grin. He couldn’t take his eyes off those lips or the moisture she’d left behind. His gaze returned to her scared blue eyes and he warned his growing cock not to get too excited. But being this close to her was incredible. She could consume him in a split second with just a glance.

  “Dusty…I…”

  “What, sweetheart? You okay?” He gently smoothed her hair, then cradled her cheek. If she were to freak out again, he would try to be her anchor even if he couldn’t eliminate her pain.

  She gave him a small smile. “Ye
ah, I’m fine. It’s just…you’re…ummm…” She shifted beneath him and he realized what she was trying to say. What had gotten into him? Overstaying his welcome wasn’t going to get him in her good graces no matter how fucking fantastic it felt to be pressed up against her body. Too bad his cock didn’t understand that. He just hoped she hadn’t noticed.

  “Sorry.” Silently cursing himself, he retreated to his side of the bed and readjusted the pillow wall. “I wasn’t trying to feel you up. You were shaking like you were gonna come off the bed or something. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  Even though he hadn’t tried to feel her up, he couldn’t forget how right it had felt with her lying beneath him. Every part of his body had come to life when pressed against her. Hell, his fingers wanted her, his cock wanted her, even his damn knees and elbows wanted a piece of her! But he would have to wait until a cold day in hell before acting on it. He’d never take advantage of a woman who had no memory. But maybe if she jumped on me…

  “It’s okay, Dusty. I’m sorry I hurt your arm. I—”

  “What?” He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t even worry about it. I’m fine.” Dusty glanced down at the superficial wounds. “They’re not even worth a band-aid.”

  “Good.” She let out a quiet sigh. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Believe me, you’d have to try a lot harder than that.” He chuckled in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. She didn’t know it, but she was hurting him. His cock was so hard it could be mistaken for the sizzle probe on an Iznoyian torture device and there was just no cooling it off. Being this close to her while knowing what he’d rescued her from made his heart ache…and everything else about her made his cock ache.

  He flopped about on the bed, searching for a position that would allow enough room in his pants. Lust clouded his thoughts. There had to be a way to get comfortable, think more clearly…and somehow stay on his side of the bed. Dammit, Dusty. You should be thinking about protecting her, not fucking her. Find out what she remembers.

  “Do you remember at all what Craze did to you?” His conscience was right, he did at least need to see just how much she remembered. Maybe there were hidden memories that would explain why Craze didn’t care that she was no longer in his cage. Maybe she would magically remember who she was, discover that she was hot for him, and then they could fuck like there was no tomorrow. Stop it, Dusty!

  It must have been the plan all along to let her go. Otherwise, how could he have so easily stolen Skylar from that evil bastard? Then again, stealing women from jerks was easy, but stealing hearts was more Marlin’s style, something that Dusty had never even come close to mastering. And with this woman, oh how he wanted to try. Just find the willpower to stay on your side of the bed. Imagine the pillows to be as impenetrable as a fortress wall. Okay, so feathers and cotton don’t exactly equate to stone, but imagine that they do, dammit. Don’t screw this up.

  “Who’s Craze?”

  What? “Didn’t he ever tell you his name? You know…the guy who had you trapped in his house. The one who put that bruise on your face. The cruel degenerate who stole your memories and put Mariah’s in their place.”

  Skylar’s voice registered her confusion. “But…wait… It was Stephan that hit me. And I was at David’s house. He was taking care of me, keeping me safe. He loved me.” Her voice quieted.

  “No, Skylar, he didn’t.” Dusty spoke with more conviction than he thought he had. “If he loved you so much, why can’t you remember meeting him? Why can’t you remember making passionate love to him so hard all night that you woke up blissfully sore? He didn’t love you. You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “I don’t know. Everything’s all screwed up. Too many things don’t make sense.” Dusty heard the underlying frustration in her voice.

  “Come on. Think through your collection of memories from Mariah. Do you honestly believe that a man as loving as Stephan could have it in him to hit you? Hell no.” The idea of Stephan hitting a woman was more absurd than the idea of pigs flying. “Hell, if I had a woman like you, I’d make love to her as often as possible just to show her that she is all I have ever wanted with my entire being. She wouldn’t have to wonder if I loved her. And no one could ever question my love for her. It would be so obvious in everything that I do and say. Craze was never like that with you, was he?”

  Whoa. Take it down a few there, buddy. Don’t give yourself away. Chill out. But would she figure it out for herself? Would she think he was just some creep trying to get under her nightgown? Hell, either way, he wasn’t ashamed of what he’d said. She could either go on thinking Craze was some kind of saint or think the creep next to her was some kind of hard up fool.

  “Oh God…” She took a loud, shaky breath. “It wasn’t Stephan who hit me. The David that invited me into his home, who promised to protect me from Stephan and told me he loved me, is the same person who forced these memories on me. I can see it so clearly now.” Her voice hitched and Dusty could tell she was trying not to cry.

  Was she going to be okay? Sure, it was great that she was getting her memories straightened out, but he cursed the pillow wall he’d erected, wishing he had x-ray vision to see her sweet face through them. His heart went out to her, but he forced the rest of himself to stay put.

  Finally, the silence was broken as she softly spoke, her words barely more than a whisper. “It’s so weird, Dusty. I’ve got these memories of David holding me, telling me that he’ll keep me safe, that he loves me and won’t let Stephan hurt me. I can feel the tenderness of his kisses. But why would the same man who told me he loved me keep me chained to a bed and try to turn me into someone I’m not? I feel like an idiot. How come I didn’t make this connection before?”

  Shit! “Same reason I didn’t realize how much of an ass I am. Hell, I’m no better than Craze. Let me take that thing off of you.” Dammit. Of all the things I could’ve done to keep her here, I had to choose that one! I am such a fucking dimwit!

  Without further delay, he climbed off the bed and retrieved the key to the manacle. Returning to the captivating woman he hoped wouldn’t completely hate him forever, he leaned over the pillows and unlocked the manacle from around her ankle, tossing it to the floor with a loud clang. Then he gingerly unwrapped his shirt from where it had been protecting her skin from the rusted metal. Gently, he massaged her ankle.

  He glanced up and met her eyes. They were full of so much damn fear and worry and confusion, but there was a sparkle of wonder and interest as well. Did she feel an inkling of what he was feeling? He knew he should pull his hands away, but she wasn’t retreating even in the slightest. Stroking her skin felt too damn good in more ways than merely tangible.

  “All I know is that if I was the one taking care of you and keeping you safe, as you said Craze was, I’d have done things a whole lot different.” Get your ass on the other side of the pillows now before you accidentally massage all the way up that gorgeous leg of hers!

  With trembling hands, he gently laid her ankle back down onto the sheet and dragged himself back over to his side of the bed, completely against the wishes of his cock.

  This was not the time to let a woman get to him. Maybe that was the reason Marlin stressed staying away from her. He of all the Shadow Walkers would know when to stay distant from a woman. If Dusty got too close and bad stuff happened… Shit, it could mean even worse trouble for the Shadow Walkers…Twyla…everyone David had set his sights on destroying. Hell, maybe even the whole of Talisman Bay and beyond.

  Skylar was like a gift from the enemy. A gift he shouldn’t unwrap. But he couldn’t deny that he was drawn to her in more ways than he could logically explain. “Actually, what I mean is that I would never do anything to hurt you or that you wouldn’t want me to do.” And much to his surprise, that came straight from the bottom of his heart. Back it off a little, Dusty. Don’t scare her away.

  Something tapped against his thigh. Shit! Was his cock trying to climb out of
his pants and go dive into her? Then the something moved, and he realized just what that something was. Skylar’s hand. And it had landed on his cock.

  He grit his teeth as his cock twitched against her hand. Like she’d been bitten, she quickly pulled back, but her hand didn’t return to the other side of the pillow barrier. Instead, she placed her hand in his, curling her fingers around his palm.

  Rip-roaring excitement shot through him hard enough to make him wonder if he was dreaming. He slowly wrapped his fingers around her hand. Maybe he could work his way closer to her. Take in her sweet feminine scent. Maybe she was warming up to him and he did have a chance tonight.

  And maybe hell would freeze over and monkeys would fly right out of his butt.

  * * * * *

  Skylar shook her head. She was a slut. She had to be. How else was it possible that after such a short time in Dusty’s presence, she wanted to climb over the pillow wall and mount an attack on him? Or just mount him. She liked that idea even better.

  Not that she would act on her attraction. Dusty had made it fairly clear that he wasn’t interested by jumping away whenever he got too close. Although sometimes his signals were a bit confusing. When he’d massaged her ankle, she could have sworn he was interested in her. But then he’d retreated like he’d smelled a foul odor…

  Oh God, did her feet stink? Great. She’d turned Dusty off because she had offensive foot odor. Wonderful. And she wasn’t into rejection sex. Or pity sex. At least she wasn’t now—who knew what she’d been like before.