Free Dreams for the Dead by Heather Crews Page B

seductress, the kind who betrayed kings and generals and went down in history. She would ensnare him and bring him to his knees. When she had him at his weakest, she would use her newly acquired power strategically.
    Somehow.
    Her heart was beating in her throat as she walked slowly toward him. Dawn wet her lips, wondering if he could see how incredibly nervous she was. Standing before him, so close she could feel the chill of his skin, she pushed aside his damp, dark curtain of hair and kissed him just above the collar of his t-shirt.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low. He didn’t move.
    Glancing up, she caught him in a faint expression of surprise. He looked as if he’d truly never expected her to come on to him. He quickly rearranged his features to appear cool and unaffected instead. “What do you think?” she said.
    He gazed down at her in an intense, almost physical way that made her feel at once powerful and defenseless. After a moment, his lips shaped into a soft grin. “Nothing’s changed, Dawn. I’m just as dangerous as I’ve ever been.”
    “Thanks for the warning. But I think I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”
    The darkening of his eyes caused an unfurling feeling inside her. She lowered her gaze, unable to withstand his any longer, and found herself looking at his shoes. Black and white ones very much like hers, only hers were green. Seduction was harder than she’d thought.
    He stepped forward just enough for their bodies to touch lightly. Chills rose on her skin, and Dawn told herself it was just the coolness of their wet clothes. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
    “Second thoughts?” he mu rmured.
    “No. I …”
    “Do you think you can handle this?”
    She stared at him, annoyed at the question, but didn’t answer because she couldn’t find her voice. The fingers of one of his hands were sli pping down between her breasts, the others twirling a single curl of her hair. He let it spiral free and pressed his lips to her neck, inhaling hungrily. His soft touches, fierce in their restraint, made her feel hot and breathless.
    “You’d run,” he said, lips moving against her skin, “if you knew the things I’ve done.”
    “No, I wouldn’t.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “N-no.”
    “I am. I know you would. It’s all right, though. I find your fear exciting.”
    Dawn had only ever had sex with a guy under the most straightforward of circumstances. This was something else altogether, and she wasn’t entirely prepared for it. But she was in it, and she wasn’t turning back. Tristan was trying to trap her , but he wouldn’t succeed.
    “You don’t have the power to hurt me,” she said clearly, just in case he didn’t realize it.
    “I’m so much stronger than you know. You have no idea the things I could do to you,” he said softly, barely moving his lips as he spoke. “It wouldn’t take any effort at all to hurt you. Or kill you.”
    It seemed he was deliberately trying to frighten her, so she didn’t flinch at his words. If an ything, she felt compelled to rise to a challenge.
    “You won’t kill me,” she said.
    One side of his mouth lifted. “You’re right. I can think of several things I’d rather do instead.”
    She put a shaking hand lightly on his chest. “Show me.”
    His mouth met hers in a wild, crushing kiss, wet and hungry. He was not her captor, just a man whose cold hands snaked up beneath her shirt, tightening on her waist when she caught his lower lip between her teeth. It felt astonishingly good to have him touch her this way. She didn’t even have to pretend to like it. In his arms it was hard to hold on to uncertainty and fear. It was hard not to come undone.
    He worked her soaked shirt all the way off and stood still as she did the same for him. Her chilled skin prickled. They broke apart just long enough to shuck off their shoes and then he reached for her again, grabbing her ass and grinding his hips against hers. She