Page 37 of From the Darkness

She was weightless, boneless, unable to stand without the support of his rock-hard body behind her. One of his arms circled her waist. The other worked the buttons of her blouse, opening them one by one, exposing her skin to the cool air—another distinct sensation on her heated flesh.

He pushed the shirt to the sides, under her raincoat, then tugged the cups of her bra down so that he could free her breasts to the air and his touch.

She let him do what he wanted. Let him tease and torture her, out here in the open air, under the branches of the trees.

One hand slid down her body again, finding the juncture of her legs, cupping and stroking at the center of her need.

“Troy. I don’t care what you look like now. I have to turn around and hold you—kiss you.”

“Stay,” he warned, his voice turning harsh and husky.

She couldn’t obey. She had to reach for him.

“No!”

Chapter Nine

The spell snapped. Troy pulled away, leaving her gasping and swaying on her feet. She would have fallen, if she hadn’t reached out and caught herself against the rough trunk of a tree.

She stared after him, seeing his retreating figure, clouded by the whirlwind of pine needles and moss that had heralded his arrival. He had left her the way he had come, and she could only stand in the twilight of the grove watching until he had disappeared in a screen of underbrush.

She found her voice then, calling after him, but she knew he wouldn’t answer. He had set the rules for how they would interact, and she had dared to break those rules. Her face flushed, as she looked down at her disheveled clothing. She was outside, half naked. But at least her coat helped hide her from view. Quickly she pulled herself back together.

Too shaky to stand on her own, she pressed her shoulders against the tree trunk, catching her breath and thinking about what had just happened.

Over the years, she had learned to stay in control of herself, she thought as she ran shaky fingers through her hair. Even when she’d become more assertive, that ability to remain steady had stood her in good stead. But today she was too off-balance for control. First, she’d succumbed to a panic attack. Then she’d run after Abner Sterling. And finally, she had let Troy sweep her away on a tide of passion. Back to a time that never was but should have been.

She stayed in the grove, trying to get herself together—physically and emotionally. She laughed when she found her purse strap was still slung over one shoulder—a testimony to a woman’s ability to hang on to her pocketbook come hell or high water.

Pulling out her makeup kit, she ran a comb through her hair, then stared at her flushed face in her small mirror. With a few swift strokes, she toned down her overbright look with a little pressed power.

More in command of herself, she probed the shadows under the trees. Could she figure out where Troy had gone? She took a step forward, then stopped.

Now that he was no longer with her, the grove gave her the creeps. It was dark and shadowy, the perfect place for an ambush—if someone wanted to come after her. But it was more than that. If she believed in bad vibes, then this place had them.

Quickly, she started back toward the house. As she retraced her steps, she kept a lookout for Abner Sterling. But he’d apparently been scared off. By Troy’s trick with the swirling debris—and the drum-beating sound?

Troy’s trick.

Somehow, he’d done those things. But how?

She was dealing with phenomena she didn’t understand. Yet she desperately needed some explanation. He’d said that people were afraid to come to this place. Had he set up machinery to make it seem like it was haunted? Did he have audio speakers and fans spread around under the trees? That would be a way to do it. She couldn’t think of any other scenario.

Unless . .

A small shiver traveled over her skin as she recalled the swirling matter from the forest floor. She wasn’t a fanciful thinker. But now she couldn’t help wondering if Troy had developed some kind of supernatural powers. The idea was crazy. She never would have considered something so off the wall. But it fit so well. The way he appeared and disappeared. The way he knew what was going on.

“The Shadow Knows,” she murmured, remembering the tapes of an old radio show that her mother had loved—so they’d listened to it together.

The show was about a man named Lamont Cranston who’d traveled to the Orient where he’d acquired the ability to “Cloud Men’s Minds.”

She laughed. Cloud Men’s Minds. What a phrase. Probably that meant hypnosis—or some other unspecified mind control technique. There was an Alex Baldwin movie based on the old shows. Bree had rented it for Mom, and they’d enjoyed the fanciful production—particularly since Alex Baldwin was easy on the eyes.

She’d watched the parade of supernatural plot twists with a grain of salt. Now she was thinking about them in a different light.

Troy was doing things she couldn’t explain in any conventional terms. Appearing. Disappearing. Making himself invisible. Calling up a whirlwind of debris under the trees. At least it had seemed like he’d done that. Unless she considered the possibility of some freakish weather conditions.

Was he using hypnosis on her—and everyone else around here? Take that first night in the tunnel, when he’d disappeared and she’d crossed to the far side of the open pit, looking for him. She’d come to a rock fall. And she’d had no idea where he’d escaped. But suppose he’d been there all along? And he’d made it impossible for her to see him. Or suppose he’d only made the pile of rocks seem real. That was another possibility.

---