Page 59 of Cursed
She tried to form another question as his hand stroked over her shoulder, then went still. “You’re wearing the robe.”
“Yes. I … I felt like I had to put it on.” She swallowed. “The voodoo priestess was chanting outside. Not with the drum. Just chanting.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “After Linette was swept away, I woke up.”
“I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
“Yes. It happened a long time ago.”
“That’s what I tell myself.”
In the dim light of dawn, they held each other, comforted each other.
“I was worried about you,” she whispered. “But there was nothing I could do besides sit here—waiting. Did you find those men?”
He made an angry sound. “No. I’d like to know what’s going on. I’d like to think Brevard came here to yank my chain. But he was too upset to be faking it.”
The stark look in his face made her clasp her hands over his shoulders.
She ached to wipe away his pain. As Linette had done in the dream, she pressed her lips to his.
She had wanted to comfort him, to reassure him. But the touch of her mouth on his was like setting a match to dry straw. Heat flared inside her, heat she was helpless to control.
He made a needy sound as he angled his head so he could feast on her mouth—the way the Andre in the dream had feasted on Linette.
Linette had been a virgin. Morgan knew what she was doing as she lay back on the bed, taking Andre with her, rolling to her side so she was lying half on top of him.
As her hands moved over him, he did the same, stroking, caressing, arousing.
Panting, she broke the kiss—just for a moment. “You need to take off your clothes.”
“The dream turned you on …”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “No. That’s wrong. The dream made me so sad. They never got to make love. But we can.”
“That’s not a good reason,” he grated.
“It wouldn’t be if it were the only reason.” She was tired of arguing with him. It had been a long time since she had wanted to be with a man like this. But if she knew anything in her heart, it was that she wanted to make love with Andre Gascon, urgently.
“This isn’t a dream. It’s reality,” she murmured as her hand slid down his body, finding the hard shaft of his erection behind the fly of his jeans. When she pressed her hand over him, she felt his body jerk.
“Don’t.”
She laughed. “If you say you don’t want me, you’re going to have a hard time getting me to believe it.” As she said the word “hard,” she swiveled her hand, making him gasp.
“Oh Lord, Morgan. I want you so much. I wanted you before you ever arrived here.”
“How?”
“As soon as I found you at Decorah—I knew.”
She wasn’t exactly following his logic, but it didn’t matter. Her main goal was to get him to stop talking. And she knew she had won the battle when his hands went to the front of her robe and began to undo the buttons. She reached to help him, and their fingers tangled.
“Let me do it,” he growled. “I want the pleasure of undressing you.”
“Yes.” She lay back, lowering her arms to her sides, looking up at him in the dim light coming through the window. It wasearly in the morning, she noted with some corner of her mind. The sun would come up soon.
But the light from the bathroom let her see the way his eyes burned with passion. And that thrilled her.
He finished opening the buttons of her robe, then carefully spread the front open.
