Free Vision of Darkness by Tonya Burrows Page A

wedding dress and veil that partially obscured her dark eyes as she gazed over her right shoulder at the photographer. Pru had always thought the touch of a smile on Lovie’s lips was captivating and often found herself stopping on the stairway to study it.
    Alex stepped back and shook himself like he was coming out of a bad dream. “Well, it’s creepy all right. I’ll give ya that.”
    He took two steps at a time to stand on the stair beside her, so close that she could feel the winter chill in his wet clothing and the heat radiating from his body underneath. The man was like a furnace and she itched to run her hands up under his soaked T-shirt. He should be steaming right now.
    “Oh, that’s right,” she said, sounding breathless. She mentally kicked herself for it. “You’re a non-believer.”
    “Ghosts don’t exist.”
    “So you say.”
    Their eyes locked for a defiant second. His irises were such a deep, dark gray in the shadows of the stairway that they seemed to go on for miles, right down into the very pit of his soul. She saw the skepticism there. She also saw something else that made her breath catch. No mistaking it. Heat and lust.
    Although chilly drafts stole into the stairway from the house’s old windows, warmth crept up the back of her neck, spread over her breasts and pooled low in her belly. Her gaze settled on his mouth. Typical lips for a man. Maybe a little too thin and hard, but she found them enticing, especially when he gave a slow, knee-melting smile like the one spreading over his mouth now.
    She sucked in a breath. Forced herself to look away. How could he turn her on like this without even laying a hand on her? Not good.
    Yeah, right, girl. It would be so, so good. Probably the best ever.
    She clamped down on the rebellious thoughts. That wildcat libido tugged on its chain again, but she refused to let it off leash. God, imagine the consequences. Dangerous territory.
    Behind her, Alex laughed low in his throat and followed her up the rest of the stairs. The sound reminded her of velvety chocolate and brought on a rush of arousal.
    “I think I’ll shower,” he said. She imagined he used that same velvet-chocolate voice in bed and almost groaned. The mental image of him in the shower, hot water and soap bubbles sluicing his body—pure torment.
    She swallowed hard and gestured to the end of the hall. “Bathroom’s down there.”
    He didn’t move. “Care to join me?”
    Yes, yes, yes! Her body all but shrieked it. Her mind said, are you stupid? She gave a breathless laugh. “So much for subtlety.”
    “Subtlety’s a waste of time. The more direct, the better.”
    “And I appreciate that. But, ah, it’s not a good idea.”
    “I don’t have bad ideas.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips along her hairline. His tongue traced the curve of her ear, a light caress, just enough to make her shiver. Her nipples peaked, her belly clenched.
    “Door will be open if you change your mind,” he murmured in her ear.
    He left her standing in the middle of the hallway, panting and wet and wanting more than that fleeting caress of his tongue. What would it hurt? People have one night stands all the time. Okay, so she’d never been one of those people, but maybe it was time she change that. She took two steps toward the bathroom before she caught herself.
    Dammit, no.
    She jammed her hands through her drying hair and whirled away, stalked back downstairs. She had no time for such a relentless, incorrigible, overconfident man. Who also happened to be sexy as all get-out.
    Feeling eyes on the back of her head, Pru stopped on the landing. Lovie True’s smile seemed broader and directed right at her. Upstairs, a rich tenor thrummed under the sound of running water.
    Was he singing?
    Yes, he was. Not very loud, but sound carried in the old house. She laughed, softening toward him a little more until she recognized the song. Bad Company’s Feel Like Making Love .
    Oh, boy.
    Face hot, Pru tried