The Fifth Victim (22 page)

“Now what do you think?” she asked.

“Now I know you’ve cast a spell over me.”

“You’re aware that it works both ways. We’re caught up in the same magic spell.”

Dallas lifted his hand. Genny came to him as if drawn by an unseen force. He skimmed the back of his hand down her cheek. She closed her eyes, experiencing his touch to the fullest.

“You must know how much I want you.” He let his hand drop to his side.

“Yes, I know. You want me as much as I want you.”

“More,” he said, his voice low and rich with longing.

She had waited her entire life for this man and this night. She sensed danger all around her, drawing closer and closer with each passing day. Soon—very soon—she would come face-to-face with death. And the only thing that could save her was this man’s love.

Chapter 21

Genny had wondered what it would be like to fall in love. Now she knew. The sensations were exhilarating. The thoughts swirling through her mind enticed her. She wanted to know Dallas in every sense of the word. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Tonight they would form those bonds, connecting on levels that would bind them together for a lifetime. The spiritual bonding would come later, when Dallas accepted her for who and what she was—accepted her completely and without reservations. Once they were spiritually linked, it would be for all eternity.

Dallas reached for her, his hand sliding over her waist as he draped his arm around her. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to regret it later.”

“I’ll have no regrets,” she told him.

“I…uh…I should get a…I have protection in my shave kit.”

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Take a shower and shave, while I soak in my tub. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting for you in my room.”

“It’ll be the quickest shower and shave on record.”

She smiled. “Don’t rush. We have all night.”

Sucking in a deep breath, he released her. As she walked away, she could feel his gaze on her, all the way to the door.

Once in her bedroom, she built a fire in the fireplace, then opened a bottom dresser drawer and removed a dozen fat, homemade, white candles and their clear glass holders. She placed the candles throughout the room and lit each one before turning off the lights.

Her bed was an antique, like most of the furniture in the house, a large mahogany sleigh bed that had belonged to her mother and to Granny before she married. Genny turned back the quilt of colorful hand-embroidered birds and flowers on what had once been a solid white background, now aged to a pale ecru. Beneath lay a white down comforter and white sheets of thick woven cotton. The cases on the four fat feather pillows were edged with delicate aged lace, hand-crocheted by Great-Grandmother Butler. Almost everything in Genny’s room had a connection to the past, to ancestresses who had lived and loved and died in these Tennessee hills.

Genny had long ago accepted the fact that she was not a modern woman, not an aggressive go-getter like Jazzy. Genny’s world was confined by her unique personality and by her rare psychic gifts. She would never leave this house, this land, these hills of home. The familiar kept her centered, helped her balance reality with the supernatural. Perhaps Dallas would be unable to accept a simple life here in Cherokee County. If that turned out to be the case, then she would have no choice but to let him go. She could not leave with him, but she would not force him to stay.

She was willing to accept whatever the future held. In her mind’s eye she envisioned a future with Dallas, free from fear and filled with love. But she knew, better than anyone, that all predictions were subject to change. Life altered moment to moment, depending upon billions of actions and reactions. Each person’s life touched others, affecting the outcome of Genny’s glimpses into the future.

Some things, however, did seem to be set in stone. Some things could not be changed without miracles occurring. Genny believed in miracles, especially the profound yet subtle miracles that happened in people’s lives every day. An infant’s birth. Falling in love. A child’s beautiful laughter. Inner peace. Sweet dreams coming true.

Tonight was her miracle.

She knelt before the cedar chest at the foot of her bed. Her great-grandfather had made this chest and given it to his only daughter, Melva Mae, to use as a hope chest. During the years in which she grew to womanhood, Granny had filled this chest with the items she would need when she became a bride. After Genny lifted the lid, she reached out and ran her hand over the cotton gown that lay on top of the neatly packed goods beneath. The white gown was semisheer, simple in design and adorned with tiny pearl buttons. Fragile lace graced the bodice and the hem. It was a virginal garment, created for a night of initiation. Genny lifted the gossamer-light nightgown and placed it over her arm, then hurried into the bathroom.

After shaving, Dallas stripped out of his clothes, left them lying in a pile on the bathroom floor, and stepped beneath the lukewarm water jetting from the shower. While he lathered his body, he tried not to think about how it would feel to have Genny’s small hands touching him. But he could not control the images in his mind. What would it feel like for her to caress him, arouse him? Just the thought created an instant erection. His sex jutted forward. He washed himself, and the touch of his own fingertips almost sent him over the edge. Genny’s presence was everywhere, all around him. Her scent lingered in every room of this house. Flowery. Subtle. Barely discernable.

Having sex wasn’t a new experience for him. He’d been sexually active since he was sixteen and had lost his virginity to one of his sister Alexandria’s college roommates. Jillian had given him a night he’d never forgotten.

Wonder whatever happened to Jillian?

During his late teens and early twenties, he’d “gone steady” several times. In his midtwenties he’d even lived with a woman—Shannon—for nearly a year. He usually gave as good as he got, but he’d always been honest about not wanting a commitment. He knew there were happy marriages; his parents had spent twenty great years together. But he was also well aware of marriages made in hell. His father’s second marriage reeked of fire and brimstone.

Of course, the bottom line was simple. He’d never loved any woman enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her.

So how do you feel about Genny?

Dallas turned off the shower, stepped out onto the tile floor and grabbed a thick, fluffy towel from the nearby rack. While he dried himself, he mulled over the question. How did he feel about Genny? He wanted her. And yeah, if he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he was in love with her. The initial feelings had hit him the moment he first saw her and had been expanding like a summer wildfire ever since.

As corny as it sounded, he’d never felt this way about another woman.

After drying off, Dallas picked up his bundle of dirty clothes and carried them with him into the bedroom. He stuffed them into a black plastic bag, then looked through the items in his suitcase, searching for something to wear. He didn’t even own a pair of pajamas. He’d slept in his skivvies since he’d been a kid. After searching through his limited wardrobe, Dallas decided on a pair of well-worn jeans. Since the house was comfortably warm, he left off his shirt. After all, he’d be stripping out of his clothes soon anyway.

Standing alone in his bedroom, barefoot and bare-chested, he considered what he was about to do. He was going to make love to Genny. All night long. Once wouldn’t be enough. Hell, two or three times wouldn’t be enough.

Usually he didn’t put this much thought into a night of sex, but, then, he’d never made love to someone like Genny. He had no idea how experienced she was. She was a sexy, sensual woman. There had to have been other men.

Hell! For some absurd, purely irrational, macho reason, Dallas didn’t want to think about those other men.

Tonight wouldn’t be an isolated incident. He had moved into Genny’s house and would be living here until the killer was caught. Whatever they started tonight would continue for as long as he was here in Cherokee County. Would a brief affair be enough for Genny? Would it be enough for him?

Just what are you thinking?
he asked himself. The kind of love he felt for Genny was new to him. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Was marriage out of the question? Would she leave her mountain, her way of life, to go to the big city with him? Or on the flip side, would he be willing to leave the Bureau and settle for a bucolic life in the hills?

Hell, why was he letting himself get all worked up over the future? All that mattered was tonight. The here and now. Tomorrow would take care of itself. It always did. Live for the moment. That was his philosophy.

Pushing aside all his concerns, Dallas walked down the hall to Genny’s room. The door stood ajar, giving him a full view of the candlelit interior. His stomach knotted. He’d never seen anything so damn romantic in his entire life. A fire flickered in the stone fireplace. The covers had been turned down on the bed. Pale, wavering shadows danced across the wooden floor.

The bathroom door opened. Genny flipped off the bathroom light and walked into her bedroom. Her beauty took his breath away. Her jet black hair hung loosely down to her waist. The silhouette of her slender curves showed plainly through her floor-length gown when she moved toward him in the candlelight.

“Please, come in,” she said, her voice low and soft.

He took several steps beyond the threshold, then paused, unable to take his eyes off Genny. Every masculine urge within him wanted to lay claim to her. Now.

But he couldn’t rush things. Not with this woman. There would be only one first time for them. He wanted to make it memorable.

“I don’t have any champagne in the house,” she said. “All I have is some apple cider.”

“We don’t need champagne.” He glanced around the room, before focusing on her. “We have everything we need.”

“If I have you, I have everything.” She glided toward him, like an angel in a woman’s body.

“Genny, honey…God, I don’t know what to say.”

“Words aren’t necessary, are they? We don’t need words to communicate. Our hearts can speak for us.”

And his body could speak for him. It could tell her how much he wanted her, how desperately he needed her.

When he held out his hand, she came to him. He eased his fingers beneath her hair and clasped the back of her neck. She tilted her chin and looked up at him. And that one look was his undoing. She was right—they didn’t need words. Everything she felt was there in her eyes. All the love and longing.

“Genny.” Her name reverberated in the hushed stillness of the room.

Her mouth parted on a gentle sigh.

He urged her face upward as he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her. And in that one moment he knew his life would never be the same again.

Genny surrendered to the kiss, giving herself to him now, without reservation. Her body leaned into his. Oh, the feelings that washed over her. The ache between her legs. The heaviness of her breasts. The pulsating desire that spiraled through her.

Her fingers inched up his arms to his shoulders, then tightened fiercely, clamping down on his hard muscles. When she stood on tiptoe, trying to get closer to him, Dallas slid his hands down her back, cupped her buttocks and lifted her off the floor. And all the while he kept kissing her.

She could smell his heat. His hot masculine scent aroused her unbearably. The throbbing between her legs intensified. Moisture gathered inside her, preparing her body for mating.

Dallas ended the kiss, then swept her up into his arms and carried her across the room. He laid her on the bed; then hovering over her, bracing his knees on either side of her hips, he began undoing the row of small pearl buttons that ran the length of her gown. Each time he slipped a pearl through a buttonhole and exposed another tiny bit of flesh, he lingered over the newly visible area. Caressing, kissing, licking. Inch by slow torturous inch, he opened her gown. By the time he reached her navel, she was writhing and whimpering, the passion within her winding tighter and tighter.

When he reached the last button, he spread the gown apart and looked at her. She felt his gaze burning into her, branding her.

He kissed each breast, then laved the nipple of one before moving to the other. Her hips lifted off the bed, her body seeking closer contact with his. He sucked greedily at one breast. His fingers plucked and pinched at the other.

While he licked a trail from her collarbone to her navel, his right hand slipped between her thighs, parting them. His fingers skimmed over her mound, dipped between her pubic lips and then thrust up inside her.

She felt his whole body tense. He realized she was ready for him. He lifted himself off the bed, removed his jeans, then pulled a condom from a pocket before tossing his pants on the floor. Genny watched in fascination as he worked the condom up and over his large, erect penis.

Then he did the unexpected. He pulled her to the edge of the bed, lifted and separated her legs to rest on his shoulders and covered her with his mouth. She cried out when he sucked, then licked. The tension inside her intensified as his tongue rubbed and pushed and stroked, bringing her to the very brink several times before he withdrew and kissed the inside of each thigh. When she thought she would go mad unless he gave her the relief her body craved, he increased the pressure and the pace.

Tighter. Tighter.

Explosion.

She sprang loose, her orgasm splintering through her, shaking her from head to toe. Just as the last trembling spasm hit her, Dallas shoved her up into the bed, came down over her, lifted her hips and rammed into her.

When he ripped away her virginity, the pain sliced through her like a dull knife. He froze the minute he realized what he’d done.

“My God, Genny, why didn’t you tell me?”

She reached up, put her arms around his neck and drew his face to hers. She kissed him, then slowly began moving her hips, taking him deeper into her body.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “If it hurts too much—”

She silenced him with another kiss, while her body moved to an undulating rhythm, encouraging him to continue.

“Genny…Genny…”

Smothering her with kisses, he eased deeper and deeper inside her, until he was buried to the hilt. He stilled his movements, then carefully withdrew. He lunged again. Slowly. Gently. Ever so gradually he increased the tempo. And when she sighed with pleasure, he stopped holding back and began pumping into her harder and faster.

She couldn’t believe she was going to come again, but she was. She did. And seconds after she cried out with release, Dallas gasped. He climaxed. His big body shivered. He moaned, then collapsed on top of her.

Dallas awoke with a hard-on. He felt Genny’s slender arms and legs wrapped around him beneath the waist-high covers, and her head rested on his chest. He tenderly cradled the back of her head with his hand. Lying here in his arms, totally trusting, completely abandoned, Genevieve Madoc was the living, breathing embodiment of his male fantasies. A virgin who’d never been with another man. An innocent who’d responded to him passionately, eager to please him, willing to do anything he asked. A lover who came to life every time he touched her, climaxing twice, despite being a novice.