omehow she was being held on his lap, her robe still open and his hand inside it, but instead of threatened, Marlie felt utterly safe, his warmth and strength surrounding her like a citadel. It was a delicious sensation, one she had never been able to enjoy before. She wanted to sink into him, revel in this new freedom, for that’s what it was, an entirely new vista opened up to her. But Dane wanted information, chapter and verse, and Detective Hollister was very good at getting his way. She could have resisted bullying, but not the waiting silence in which he held himself, a silence in which she could feel his tension. The tension wouldn’t ease until he knew, and so she told him, the ugly details, the guilt that she had held inside for years.

Her head was lying on his shoulder, her face turned in to the muscled wall of his chest. Somehow it was easier that way, as if she could neither see nor be seen.

“He had knocked me out,” she began. “When I came to I was naked, lying flat on my back on the floor, with my hands tied to some kind of pipe, maybe an old radiator. Gleen was naked, too, sitting astride my hips with the knife in his hand, smiling and waiting for me to wake up. Dusty was tied to a cot about five feet away, watching the whole thing. He was such a pretty little boy.” Her voice was soft and distant as she remembered. “Auburn curls all over his head, and big, round blue eyes. He was so scared. He cried the whole time.”

Dane looked down at his big hand lying on her belly, almost completely spanning her. The thought of Gleen seeing her like this, and using a knife on this slender, womanly soft body, was so obscene that he barely stifled the growl that began rumbling up from his chest. She seemed to have forgotten that she was all but naked now, her mind lost in the past, but Dane was very aware of it. Even in his rage, he looked at those soft, round breasts with their tender pink nipples, and felt the desire burning low in his belly. He controlled it, forcing it aside so he could hold her, and listen to her. Had anyone ever held her, given her comfort? He thought not, and that added to his anger.

“I don’t know why I did it,” she continued, her head lying trustingly in the hollow of his shoulder. “But something in me refused—I couldn’t give in to him. I would rather have died than give him what he wanted. He wanted me to beg, but I wouldn’t. He wanted me to be afraid, and I was, but I didn’t let him see it. I laughed at him. Oh God, I laughed. He cut me, and I yelled at him that he was a pitiful excuse for a man. He pulled my legs apart and tried to put it in me.” She hesitated uncomfortably. “You know—it, not the knife.”

“I know what ‘it’ is,” he growled.

She buried her face deeper into the curve of his neck. “He couldn’t, and I laughed at him. I made fun of him, I told him what a miserable little worm he had, and what a miserable little worm he was. He was wild with it, I could feel how out of control he was, all that hate and fury pouring out, but I just kept pushing. I could feel Dusty, too, so terrified, reaching out for me, begging me not to let the bad man hurt him again.

“So I kept laughing at Gleen, and kicking at him as much as I could. Somehow I managed to kick him between the legs, not really hard because my foot slipped off his thigh, but he... lost it. It was like he exploded, somehow. One second he was on me and the next he was on Dusty, and Dusty was screaming. I still hear him scream. I could feel him, the absolute terror, the agony. It was like a black wave, all over me, all through my brain, and I was screaming too. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Blood was everywhere... ” She paused, and after an interminable silence that lasted only a few seconds, said simply, “I don’t remember anything else. Dusty died, and I died with him.”

Dane knew what had happened after that; the professor had told him. Her screams had pinpointed Gleen’s location to the sheriff and his men, and they had killed Gleen before he could turn his murderous fury on Marlie. But they hadn’t been in time to save Dusty, and in a way they hadn’t been in time for Marlie either. As linked to Dusty as she had been, his death had been her death, too, and it was a miracle she had survived the shock.

He smoothed her hair behind her ear, and stroked her cheek. “But you came back,” he said with controlled ferocity.

“Eventually. It was a long time before I felt anything, any kind of emotion. Before, I had felt everything, everyone else’s emotions, and after that I couldn’t even feel my own. I didn’t have any.”

“You healed, Marlie. It’s been a long time, but he didn’t win. He couldn’t break you.”

“He came damn close,” she said. She quietly rested against him for a minute. “If I hadn’t pushed him, if I’d given him what he wanted, probably Dusty would still be alive.”

Dane snorted. “Yeah, it’d be nice if we were all omnipotent.” He wasn’t going to waste his time babying the natural guilt she felt. He jostled her a little, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said deliberately.

She managed a fragile smile. “So am I. And sometimes that seems like the most callous thing of all, that I’m glad to be alive. I wasn’t thinking beyond the moment when I was laughing at Gleen; the only thing I knew was that I absolutely couldn’t bear for him to rape me. The thought of him being inside me was so revolting that I was willing to push him into killing me, rather than tolerate his touch. Of all the things that gave me nightmares, sex was the worst. I can watch some violence on television or in movies, but I still can’t watch a sex scene. I can’t think of it as love. I remember Gleen’s face, the smell of his breath, the way saliva sprayed when he screamed at me. I remember the feel of him against me, between my legs, and I still want to gag.” She took a deep breath. “Not that sex was ever good for me anyway,” she said honestly.

“How so?” His voice was undemanding, and his touch almost absent as he stroked her hair back from her temple, but his hazel eyes were intense.

She had never talked about the difficulty she’d had with sex, but somehow, lying cradled in his protective arms, with the rest of the world held at bay, she could. She felt oddly dreamy, caught in a combination of fatigue and the aftermath of stress, as if nothing else were quite real. “It was awful. Mentally, I couldn’t bear it. I had to work so hard to build a shield, to protect myself from everything,” she explained. “It was the only way I could function, and the shield was at best only a partial protection. All my life I wanted to be normal. I wanted to love someone, I wanted a relationship, I wanted what normal people had. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted intimacy to be wonderful, but it wasn’t. Being intimate, physically, just blew away my mental shields. I couldn’t block out anything. The mental interference was enormous; all I could feel was his emotions, blotting out any physical enjoyment I might have felt. It wasn’t very flattering, either.” Her mouth quirked. “He wasn’t overcome by fondness for me; all he wanted was sex.

And he was feeling proud of himself for daring to have sex with a weirdo psychic.”

“The son of a bitch,” Dane said softly.

She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I was weird. I still am.”

“Hell, no wonder you’re skittish about sex. All you’ve ever seen is the ugly side of it; you’ve never had any romantic illusions, have you? You know about scoring, and about rape. You must think men are scum.”

“No,” she denied. “When you know what other people are feeling, the way I did, you know that couldn’t be so. There are selfish, mean-spirited women just like there are nasty men. But when it came to sex, I couldn’t close my mind and just feel. It wouldn’t have been any different if I’d been madly in love with a wonderful guy who loved me just as much; I couldn’t have enjoyed sex with all that mental static going on.

“I think I had accepted that I couldn’t have any sort of romantic relationship,” she continued. “I liked being alone, in my little cabin in the mountains. Dr. Ewell thought that moving into the cabin was good for me, a move toward normalizing my life. And it was; it was great. I worked with him on experiments and documentation, and occasionally helped find missing people, though the effort involved was such a strain that—well, you know what it’s like. Once upon a time, before Gleen, I could direct the knowing. I could lock on to someone specific, and go into a vision. I can’t control it at all now.”

“Do you want it to be like before?”

“I never wanted to have another vision in my life,” she murmured. “But if I don’t have any choice about it, then yes, I’d like to be able to control them. This—this is like being ambushed.” She was getting drowsy again, and her eyelids drooped.

“But except for the two visions, you haven’t had any other episodes?”

She thought of the first night she had called him, and known what he was doing, what he would say, even as he answered the telephone. “There was one flash of clairvoyance, but it wasn’t related to the murders, and hasn’t happened again. It was just a second or two. I don’t think of the visions as clairvoyant episodes; they’re... different, more strongly grounded in emotion. Anyway—no. Nothing else.”

“Good.”

There was a wealth of dark satisfaction in his voice, a satisfaction she couldn’t quite decipher. Then his warm hand covered her breast, and she knew, with an instinct that had nothing to do with her psychic abilities, and everything to do with being a woman. No longer sleepy, she tilted her head back on his arm to look at him.

“It seems to me that now is the perfect time to show you some of the pleasure of sex,” Dane murmured. Those hazel eyes were blazingly intent, and deeply green. “You can’t feel my emotions, so that takes care of one problem. If you were afraid of me, you wouldn’t have been lying almost naked on my lap for half an hour, which takes care of the other problem. All you have to do is lie there and let me make you feel good.”

She quivered, her gaze locked with his. Was now the time? Until Dane, she hadn’t felt desire. Sex had been an experiment, a hope, and ultimately, a disappointment. She wasn’t afraid of him, but rather that she would fail again. Loving him was still so new, so startling, that she didn’t want to tarnish it. It was cowardly, but she would prefer to never try, and retain the frail hope that it might have been possible, than to try and fail. Might-have-been was a poor comfort, but better than nothing.

“I don’t know,” she said nervously. “What if—”

“Stop worrying about it,” he interrupted. “Just lie back, close your eyes, and leave everything to me.”

Easier said than done. Still she stared up at him with worried eyes, unable to decide yes or no. Too much had happened to her for her to be able to make that move. She hated herself for being so weak, and tears began welling.

Dane gave her approximately two seconds, then settled the issue himself. He stroked down her body and beneath the waistband of her panties, tucking his hand into the notch between her thighs. Marlie cried out in surprise, automatically grabbing his wrist. Her thighs clamped tight around his hand. Her eyes were huge, eclipsing her wan face. But even as they stared at each other, hectic color warmed her cheeks.

“Do you trust me?” he asked in a calm voice, as if it weren’t taking every bit of self-control he had to keep from rolling her beneath him and sinking into her, finding blessed relief for his throbbing erection.

She chewed her lower lip, and he almost groaned aloud at the provocation. “Well, yes.”

“Then relax your legs. I’m not going to hurt you. As a matter of fact, I guarantee that you’ll like it.”

She managed a wobbly smile. “Guarantee, huh?”

“Absolutely.” He bent his head and brushed a gentle kiss across her mouth.

Marlie quivered, caught on the twin prongs of cowardice. She was afraid to try and fail, and afraid that if she didn’t trust him now, she might never have another chance. In the end, the second fear proved stronger. No matter what, she wanted to know what it was like to cradle Dane within her body, to feel his incredible strength as he drove into her, to give him pleasure if nothing else. He was determined to bring her to pleasure first, she knew, but she also knew that afterward it would be his turn. She wasn’t agreeing to just heavy petting, but to the complete sex act.

She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. As long as I have your personal guarantee.”

“I’ll put it in writing and have it notarized,” he promised, and kissed her again.

She couldn’t control the fine tremors that shook her entire body, but she took another deep breath and slowly parted her thighs. He gently stroked the soft, closed folds, and Marlie released her death grip on his wrist. “Easy now,” he whispered, then deftly opened her and penetrated her with one long finger.

She stiffened in his arms, her thighs locking together again in an effort to control his invading hand. It was useless, because there was nothing she could do to stop the slow probe of his finger inside her. Shock made her dizzy. Oh, God.

She wasn’t dry, but she was far from being ready for penetration. The friction made his finger seem as big as a penis. She struggled briefly to contain the chaos of her rioting nerve endings, then collapsed against his chest in surrender.

“There, that’s good,” he crooned, and pushed another finger into her. Her hips arched, then subsided. She felt stretched, invaded, her body no longer under her control. Some dormant, primal instinct was stirring into life. Her inner muscles contracted gently in adjustment, and Dane’s entire body shivered.

His voice was hoarse. “This is the most that I’m going to do to you, at least right now. You can relax because it’s already happened. Am I hurting you?”

Yes. No. She hadn’t realized it could feel like this. She was a little delirious with shock and pleasure, and shook her head, her hair cascading over his chest. She was stunned that her body was capable of such intense sensation.

“Then close your eyes, honey. Close your eyes and feel. Don’t think, just feel.”

Helplessly, she did. With her eyes shut, her concentration centered on her body and what was happening to it. Color swirled behind her eyelids. Heat surged through her, followed rapidly by a chill that wasn’t really a chill, but rather a ripple of almost painful delight. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. Her nipples puckered and hardened, standing firmly upright.

His fingers reached deep inside her, rasping her delicate inner tissues. Helplessly she arched her hips again, taking his touch deeper within. Her thighs fell open, giving him easier access. Her heart was thundering, and she felt as if she might fly apart. She clutched his shirt, her fingers digging into the flesh beneath as she tried to anchor herself against the storm that was buffeting her.

She heard him say something, but there was a roaring in her ears and she couldn’t quite make out the words. The words weren’t important; she could hear the fierce tenderness in his tone, and that was what she needed. His fingers slipped out of her, and she made a soft sound of distress, her hips rolling toward him. Swiftly he stripped her panties off and returned his hand to her body. This time she willingly parted her thighs, and felt the eager dampness between them. The intrusion, when it came, was exquisite relief, yet the relief lasted only a moment. The slow thrust of his fingers elicited a deep, powerful hunger, so that his touch wasn’t an easing, but a need. Then his rough thumb searched upward in her soft folds and pressed on the small,, tautly swelling nub at the top of her sex. Pure fire exploded through her nerves, and she gave a strained cry as she curled toward him.

He held her tightly against him, subduing her sensual struggles. He was talking to her, the words low and hoarse in her ear, encouraging her to greater heights while his strength kept her safely grounded. He continued to circle and rub with his thumb, tormenting the little nubbin, each touch making the fire burn hotter. A pulse began throbbing between her legs, beating in a rhythm she had never felt before. Passion was a brand, searing her flesh with its invisible mark.

“D-Dane!” It was a wail almost of anguish. He tilted her head back and set his mouth on hers, his tongue repeating the invasive movements of his fingers, the pressure hard and rough. She reveled in it, reaching up to cling to his heavy shoulders, offering her mouth more fully to him.

It built quickly, sensation spiraling into a tighter and tighter coil, and suddenly it was too much. Her entire body clenched, then surged wildly as her climax rolled through her in waves. She shook in uncontrollable spasms, feeling as if she were flying apart. He held her close, letting her know that she wasn’t alone in the tempest. She cried out in a thin, hoarse voice, and he muffled the cries with his own mouth.

The crest of sensation subsided, though small shock waves continued to ripple through her loins. She went limp, her face buried against his chest while she gasped for breath. He shifted her, then his muscles tensed beneath her and he got to his feet, holding her firmly in his arms. She gripped his shirt as he carried her swiftly into the bedroom and placed her on the bed. Her robe was hanging on her shoulders, and he pulled it completely away, then stood and began stripping off his own clothes.

He hadn’t turned on the light, but the door was open, and light from the living room spilled across the bed. Marlie lay without moving, enveloped in a lassitude so complete that she thought she might never move again. In that quiet state of subconsciousness, with her physical senses so acute and her mental processes barely functioning, she could feel every slow, heavy beat of her heart as it moved blood through her veins. Her pulse throbbed in the tender places of her body.

With an effort, she lifted her heavy eyelids and watched him undress. His urgency was an almost palpable force, his movements swift and violent. In only seconds, his powerful form was bare. He crawled over her, his hard thighs pushing between hers and forcing them wide, then settled his heavy weight on her.

There was a wonderful stillness, a silence, both without and within. With incredible joy, and some trepidation, she felt the hardness of his genitals against the yielding softness of her own. He braced himself on one arm and reached between them with his other hand, guiding his shaft as he tensed his buttocks and slowly began pushing into her.

Marlie’s breath tangled in her throat, and she felt herself drowning in sensation again. She had felt stretched by his fingers probing her, but his thick sex filled her to the point of distress. Though she was damp, her delicate inner tissues were swollen by his previous attentions; her sheath was ultra sensitive, tightening convulsively on him as he inexorably thrust himself to the hilt. She gave a soft, panicked sound of discomfort that verged on real pain.

Dane paused, holding himself deep within her. His powerful body was shaking. “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, and barely audible.

She couldn’t think what to say. She wasn’t having any empathic interference; her attention was wholly focused on her body. But physically she wasn’t certain she could bear it when he started thrusting. He was so big, and the slightest movement rasped along her inner nerve endings; the sensation hovered between ecstasy and pain. Her mind was a blank, and she couldn’t find the words to give him the reassurance he wanted.

He was a man, not a saint. His male flesh was throbbing inside her. He held himself rigidly still for a tense moment while he waited for her answer, but when none came his control shattered. A rough sound burst from his throat and he began thrusting with heavy power, reaching deep into her. The impact shook her entire body. Now she knew her answer, and clung fiercely to him as his hips hammered. The sharp slap of their bodies coming together mingled with his harsh breathing, and her own soft moans.

She had wanted Dane, and she had wanted this. Tightly she shut her eyes, savoring every moment She loved his roughness, the savagery of his hunger. She loved the helpless groans that escaped him, the heat and sweat as his body coiled and struck. She had always felt apart, an oddity, but with Dane she was simply, and purely, a woman. Nothing interfered with the moment; they were male and female, mating with fierce and uncomplicated passion. She wished it could go on forever.

It didn’t, though. It couldn’t, given the urgency of his need. All too soon his rhythm quickened, and he reared back, pounding into her with heavy force. He pushed her legs high, lifting her ankles onto his shoulders. Gasping, she felt him getting even bigger and harder inside her. He gave a harsh cry, one last thrust, and began shuddering convulsively.

When he had stopped shaking, when the last small quake had rippled through him, she opened her arms, and he weakly let himself sink into them. His heavy weight crushed her into the mattress, but she was too tired to care. His heartbeat thudded slowly against her breast. His dark head, wet with sweat, rested beside hers on the pillow. His face was turned toward her, and his warm breath washed over her neck.

She stroked his back, loving the feel of his heated skin beneath her palms. He was becoming heavier as he drifted into sleep, but she didn’t care. She was limp with utter contentment. Only heaven could be better than this, lying in the aftermath of lovemaking, the man she loved sleeping cradled in her body and her arms. She wanted time to stand still in a place where evil couldn’t intrude.

It intruded with a sudden shrill beeping.

Dane reacted instantly, withdrawing from her and sitting up in the same fluid motion. He turned on the lamp and silenced his beeper, briefly glancing at the digital readout. Marlie lay frozen. Without a word he picked up the phone and punched in a number, holding the receiver cradled between his head and shoulder while he began putting on his rumpled clothes. “This is Hollister,” he said tersely. He listened for a moment, then said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Have you called Trammell? Never mind, I’ll do it. Radio back to the patrol officer and tell him to make damn certain the scene is secured.”

He depressed the button and got another dial tone. While he called the second number, Marlie got out of bed and fumbled for her robe. It was twisted, one of the arms turned inside out. Her hands were shaking. but she managed to straighten the garment and wrap herself in it, pulling the belt tight. Dane sat down on the side of the bed and began putting on his shoes.

“We have a victim,” he said quietly into the phone. “I’ll meet you there.” He didn’t glance at Marlie. “It’s 3311 Cypress Terrace.”

Cypress. Her stomach knotted into a cold lump. She had known, but this dispelled the last faint doubt.

He hung up the phone and went into the living room, shrugging into his shirt as he walked. Marlie followed him, as silent as a ghost, and stood in the doorway watching as he slipped into his shoulder holster. He tucked the big pistol into place under his left arm.

She didn’t approach him, and he didn’t come to her. He paused by the front door and looked back at her. “Are you all right?” he asked, but there was remoteness in his eyes and his voice, his mind already on the job awaiting him.

“Sure,” she said, burying the terror and pain and loneliness deep inside her. She couldn’t allow her weakness to delay him,

“I’ll be back when I can,” he said, and left.

She stood until the sound of his car had died away, then steadily went to the front door and locked it. Next she cleaned up the remains of their pizza, and washed the few dishes that were dirty. When she went back into the living room, she saw her panties in the corner of the couch and picked them up, wadding them in her hand.

She was very tired, but sleep seemed impossible. The delight of the night had been destroyed by a return of horror. She couldn’t allow herself to think of either right now. She sat down on the couch and quietly watched the minutes of the night tick away, as she held her own vigil.