CHAPTER 3

Aidan lay on his back and looked up at the starry night sky through the oculus. Outwardly he was calm and sated. Inside he was shaken to the core. He didn't know how to process the feeling of connection he felt with the woman curled up at his side.

As he'd slid inside Lyssa's lusciously tight body, the connection had been more than a dream, more than sex. He'd tried to make their joining no more than physical pleasure. He had turned her over, faced her away from him, and none of it had worked. The unrestrained anxiousness he felt around her hadn't dissipated with his orgasm. Now it was worse than ever, accompanied as it was by the knowledge that he would have to leave her, and once he did, he would never see her again.

His eyes closed on a ragged breath. She'd made love to him, not a fantasy. Not the Captain of the Elite. Not a Guardian with a lascivious reputation. Just Aidan Cross.

In all his life, he was certain she was the only woman to have ever done so.

The effect that knowledge had on him was startling. He'd been as lost to the sex as she was. He, a man who'd fucked literally countless women, had just had a sexual encounter unlike any other.

"So tell me." Her warm breath gusted across his skin. "What are these things you say I don't understand?"

"Lyssa…"He heaved out a sigh, and looked down at the top of her head.

How could he tell her enough to keep her safe, but not enough to anger the Elders?

"Uh oh." She rose to look at him. "Let me guess. You don't date seriously, you're not looking for a girlfriend, no attachments. It's just sex."

It wasn't, but he could never tell her that. Instead he said, "I'm a Dream Guardian."

Her brows rose. "O-kay… That's a new one."

"The beach, this tent, your clothes, even the darkness— they are inventions of your mind."

"'Kay I got that." "I'm not."

"You're not what?"

"I'm not a figment of your imagination. You can alter my appearance to suit your desires, but that's the extent of your control over me. You can't make me do anything I don't want to."

"Yeah, I figured that one out already." Lyssa pursed her lips in thought. She offered a shaky smile. "So you're not a tall, dark, and handsome, drop-dead gorgeous sex god?"

Aidan's lips twitched with a withheld smile. "What color is my hair?" "Black."

"All over?"

Lyssa ran her finger through his chest hair, then dipped lower to cup his balls. "Yes. All over."

"And my eye color?"

Her eyes narrowed, then she leaned closer. "I'm not sure," she said finally, in a low, hesitant tone. "They look dark. I think the light's not good."

He reached out and caught her hand, then dropped it as if it burned him. That was her first sign that something was wrong. She saw his hands clench into fists and wondered what the hell was going on. "The lighting is fine."

"So I take it, that's not how you look?"

"No."

A shudder moved through her. She'd just made love to man she couldn't see.

It was so bizarre, she didn't know how she was supposed to feel. "What does a Dream Guardian do?"

"It depends," he said, his voice rough. "There are a lot of us, and we're divided into certain specialties. Each Guardian has their strengths. Some are tender and offer comfort to those who grieve or are deeply saddened. Others are playful and fill in dreams of sports heroes or reality television shows."

"I suppose you're one of the tender ones," she guessed, remembering his compassion and caring, and finding peace in that. She didn't know what he looked like, but she knew what type of man he was, and that's what really mattered.

Aidan stiffened beneath her. Her brows rose. "What?"

"I'm Captain of the Elite Warriors," he said, as if that explained everything.

I keep the bad guys away, he'd told her that first night. But he'd been kind to her. Tender.

"What's an Elite Warrior?"

"I'm assigned to protect Dreamers who have recurring Nightmares." "Like a bodyguard?"

"More like a military rescue." "That's why you're so big."

He stared at her intensely. "I'm a large man, yes, but I don't know what you see when you look at me, Lyssa. Your dream is fabricating my appearance. Dreamers can't see Guardians. Your subconscious fills in the gaps."

"Oh." Lyssa sank deeper into the scarves. "Why do I need an Elite Warrior in my dreams? I don't have nightmares."

"The door you built is a formidable one. We had to come in, and I'm the muscle."

Her short laugh held no humor. "That's why you came back tonight? Because I wouldn't open the door to the other… Guardians?"

"Yes."

Her stomach knotted. She had totally believed that line about him worrying about her. "Why do they want to come in here so bad? There's nothing to

see."

Aidan sat up and rested against a pile of pillows. Aside from the silver chain and stone pendant he wore, he was unabashedly naked. The most luscious masculine animal she had ever seen.

Even as she applauded her imagination, she mourned that he wasn't real. His male perfection was all in her head.

"Nightmares are real," he said. "Just not in the way humans have come to see them."

"Huh?" She waited for him to speak, and then listened with damp palms as he explained abbreviated space, space-time, and planes of existence in a

voice devoid of inflection.

Since the Nightmares had discovered the human subconscious through the fissure created by the Elders, the battle was never-ending. The dreams created in the human mind had given Nightmares a new power source on which to thrive. Fear, fury, misery—these were easily aroused through dreams, and fed them so well.

"Too many times I've seen the dark circles under human eyes, the slumping shoulders, the weary shuffling stride." Aidan's hands fisted rhythmically in

his lap. "Over the years the Elders have tried to close off the tiny crack between the Twilight and your world, but there's no way, Lyssa.

We can only do damage control."

And here she'd thought she was an expert on dreams after a lifetime of struggling with hers. How little she knew.

"We fight back as best we can to protect you," he continued. "We've

become phantasms, taking on the form and nuances of each individual subconscious."

Lyssa considered everything carefully, and then asked, "Why do I have to know all this? I'm assuming most people don't?"

"Most people don't," he agreed. "But you're stronger than most. You

recognize all guises, and you can keep us out if you want to. I've been asked to convince you to open the door. Since you understand that this is a dream, which is rare, but not unheard of, I decided to give it to you straight."

"They just want to come in, look around, and see if there are any Nightmares lurking in here?

Isn't that your job?"

Aidan was silent a moment, then, "They're looking for someone, Lyssa. They're not sure who they're looking for, but there are certain traits that raise alarm. "You bear some of the traits. I worry that too many years of

searching have made them overzealous. I want you to be careful when they visit with you. I would prefer that you reveal as little as possible without appearing suspicious. I'm telling you this because I want you to be

prepared."

She nodded. "Okay. We should come up with a secret signal or something. If I start talking too much, you can warn me."

"Lyssa…" He inhaled sharply.

Her stomach churned when Aidan didn't say anything further, which said so much.

He wasn't coming back.

"I see." She'd felt his expertise in his touch, had tasted it in his kiss, would have been fucking him blind right now if she hadn't needed a few minutes to recover. The man knew his way around a woman's body. "Is seduction part of your job, too?"

His jaw tightened. "Sometimes."

She winced at the sharp pain she felt in her chest. " A lover and a fighter." "A warrior," he corrected grimly.

"A man of many talents." Blowing out her breath, Lyssa rolled away from him and crawled to the edge of the bed, hiding her quivering lower lip. "Go ahead and tell them I'll let them in."

She felt him move behind her, and then his large hands were on her shoulders. A moment later his lips were pressed to her skin. She jerked away and left the bed entirely, wishing there was a robe or something to cover herself with. To her surprise, one appeared on the chair by the door, and she caught it up before she stepped outside…

… where the sun was shining on a sandy beach. Frozen in place with surprise, she was galvanized into movement when she heard Aidan approaching.

She pictured a thatched-roof bar a little ways up the beach and strode toward it rapidly. She needed a drink. Bad. "I think I've got the hang of this dreaming thing. Thanks for your help."

"Perhaps it was fear that held you back," he said behind her, following. "At some point the Nightmares must have really frightened you. You chose the safety of darkness and the door over your dreams."

"Good to know. Guess I'm cured." When he materialized before her, she screamed and jumped back. "Damn it, you scared the shit out of me! Don't do that."

Aidan's dark gaze roiled with powerful emotions she couldn't identify. "Don't turn away from me after what we just did."

The simple statement started a quiver in her belly that expanded into a full- fledged shiver of awareness. All she wanted in the world—this one and her own—was to step into his embrace and feel safe while she sorted this all out in her mind. But she was feeling things she shouldn't be. Longing, possessiveness, desire… it would only get worse the longer he stayed. "What do you want me to do, Aidan?"

Something hot flickered in his eyes when she said his name. "Come back inside. We still have time."

"No." Her voice was shakier than she would have wished. Despite the short length of their association, he had been her comfort, her rock to lean on.

Losing him was going to be painful. It already hurt. "It would be better if you just left."

"Why?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"I'm not into pity fucks." She actually heard his teeth grind, and she was glad. Her emotions were all out of whack; it was only fair that his should be, too. "I've been protecting myself just fine over the last however-many years. I don't need you to screw me into the Twilight, or whatever the hell it is you do."

His nostrils flared. "You're upset. I sympathize. But you know that's not the reason we had sex."

"I do? Hmm…" She turned around and pictured her hut bar in the opposite direction.

"Lyssa—" His grip stopped her so fast, she was yanked to a halt.

"Lyssa! For god's sake wake up!"

Violent shoving brought her to the awareness of her mother's voice and her taupe-colored living room.

"Okay, okay," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

Her mother hovered over her. "Christ, Lyssa! You scared me to death." "Huh?"

"You've been asleep for almost twenty-four hours without moving a muscle.

I had to check on you every hour or so just to make sure you were breathing!"

Closing her eyes, Lyssa sighed and stretched, finding every muscle sore from hours of being in the same position.

"I slept in your bed last night because I was afraid to leave you."

Her mother had fussed and poked at her most of her life, searching in vain for a physical cure for what Lyssa had always suspected was a mental ailment.

"I'm okay, Mom." And for the first time in years, she really felt as if that

was true. She wasn't sure why she felt that way; she just knew that she did. Like something was settled or resolved. A long-standing question answered. "What time is it?"

"Just after eight."

"Ugh!" Tossing off the chenille throw, Lyssa stood with a grimace. "I'm going to be late for my first patient if I don't get going."

"How the hell can you even think about going to work when you were a vegetable only a minute ago?" The effect of the chastising hands on her mother's hips was ruined by bed-head.

"Work's all I've got left, Mom. I'm not letting that go to hell along with my health and my love life."

"I'm calling your doctor and telling him he needs to run more tests." Lyssa was already halfway up the stairs. "No way."

"If you don't agree to a checkup, I'm not letting you go to work."

"Mom…" She glared down the stairs, but the stubborn set of maternal jaw told her arguing would be pointless. "Fine," she conceded grudgingly, "but you have to make me coffee, too."

A shower and three cups of Java later, Lyssa was speeding out of her condo complex on her way to work. It was still a bit foggy and gray in the valley, with a slight chill in the air that invigorated her. She didn't feel rested as she had last week, but she didn't feel as if she was going to fall asleep at the wheel, either. That fact alone started her day off on a lighter foot.

She was whistling when she pulled open the heavy steel door to the back of her clinic, and by the time she entered Exam Room One with its pretty blue and white striped wallpaper, Lyssa was full-on smiling.

"Good morning," she greeted, her eyes widening as her patient's owner turned to face her. "I'm Dr. Bates."

Tall with short-cropped dark hair, he was handsome and well-built, filling a loose pair of jeans and tight black T-shirt to perfection. The writing on the shirt betrayed his occupation as a fireman, a job she admired.

He shook her outstretched hand. "Chad Dawson." He gestured to the beautiful German shepherd who sat elegantly by his feet. "This is Lady."

"Hi, Lady."

Lady held out her paw for a shake.

"What a clever girl you are, Lady," she praised, glancing at the chart in her hand. "Shots, I see. I promise to be gentle."

Never one to torture her patients, Lyssa got straight to it and then offered a treat in reward. The whole time, Mr. Lady hovered nearby, his cologne a

gentle presence in the room, his large body absorbing all the space. She was keenly aware of him and his undisguised interest, so when she finished notating the chart and prepared to move on to the next room, she wasn't surprised when he stopped her.

"Dr. Bates?"

"Yes?"

"I appreciate your care for Lady. She hates shots, and shakes like a leaf when we come to the vet."

Lyssa rubbed Lady behind the ears, "You were very brave, Lady. One of my best patients ever."

She glanced up. "She's a wonderful dog, Mr. Dawson." "Call me Chad, please."

She smiled, but her stomach did a little flip that was partly excited and partly panicked.

"I hope you don't mind," he began with a sheepish smile, "but I noticed you're not wearing a wedding band. Are you seeing anyone?"

The urge to say yes was strong and confusing. "Not unless you count grumpy cats."

His returning grin was dazzling. "In that case, I'd like to take you out to dinner sometime, if you're open to dating owners."

"I never have before," she admitted, "but there's always a first time."

She pulled a notepad featuring a pharmaceutical advertisement out of a drawer, and they exchanged numbers and set a date for the weekend.

Lyssa stayed in the room a short while after Chad and Lady left, trying to

figure out why a date with a hunky fireman who liked dogs was making her sad.

Hidden beyond the edge of the Twilight, Aidan stared at the woman writhing on the bed. She keened softly, her naked body arching upward as she stroked her clit with one hand while thrusting two fingers deep into the drenched cleft of her sex with the other.

He barely blinked, refusing to look away, his mind urging his errant body to cooperate and become aroused. Around him, he felt and heard the

Nightmares moving in, drawn to the energy the Dreamer was exuding into the Twilight. She was as vulnerable as it was possible to be, and it was his

job to lead her to safety. But despite his sincere wish to help her, he couldn't find the tiniest bit of desire for the task ahead.

Sighing, Aidan closed his eyes and sent out a silent call for help. As the woman on the bed moaned in the beginnings of a climax, he felt a presence at his side.

"I was coming to find you anyway," said the laughing voice next to him.

"Oh?" Shooting a sidelong glance at Connor, Aidan tried not to look too relieved when his friend began to strip with obvious anticipation.

"I was assigned to your Dreamer tonight, Cross. I figured once you knew, you would want to swap again. You've been giving me all of your sexual

assignments for weeks, but I strongly suspected you'd want to have another dream with her. And you need it, man. Bad."

Aidan tensed as emotions he didn't understand flowed through him. "Lyssa Bates?"

Connor nodded, and rubbed his hands together. "Whatever your fascination is with her, I hope it lasts awhile longer. Trading places with you rocks.

Now, if you'll excuse me…"

The other Guardian stepped into the dream and his outward appearance instantly altered to suit the woman he approached. Aidan turned away and departed swiftly, his thoughts once again fully consumed by the Dreamer he should never see again, but couldn't seem to resist.

A month had passed since he'd last been with her. A month of questioning other Guardians to find out who had spent the evening with her, and then grilling them about what had been said and what she was doing. She was seeing someone now, a man named Chad, and Aidan told himself it was best that her life was now back on track. He had tried to follow her lead and forget her, taking on assignments that would have distracted him in the past.

Nothing worked.

Now he moved through the Twilight with barely suppressed excitement, his heart racing at the prospect of seeing her again. The sweet tone of her voice and softly flowered scent stayed in his mind, as did the deep color of her

eyes and the golden strands of her hair. But like a Twilight morning, the

details were shrouded in mist and fading. If he gave it a little more time, he could forget.

But he didn't want to forget. For the first time in many, many centuries his blood ran hot, and for the first time ever his heart ached with yearning. He couldn't let her think she was only a job to him. Before he moved on, he needed her to know that he'd made love to her because he wanted to and for no other reason.

Lowering to the ground, Aidan paused before Lyssa's door. He wanted to hold her again, to be the recipient of her passion and seducing caresses. Did Chad benefit from such play? The thought burned, making him sweat.

She hadn't fucked the other man… yet. Aidan knew because he inquired every day.

Growling his anger at the thought, he reached for the shiny new handle that hadn't existed the last time he was here. He stepped inside without forewarning, and found the same beach he remembered from before. A short distance away, Lyssa swung in a hammock between swaying palm

trees, her long legs revealed by the part in a sarong, her lush breasts barely restrained by the tiny triangle cups of a crocheted bikini top. In her lap, she held a drawing pad, and her lovely features were shielded by the wide brim of a straw hat.

Arrested by the sight of her golden skin and the loose strands of hair the tropical breeze blew across her glossy lips, he stood unmoving.

Why did she affect him this way? He was so eager for her, he could barely walk. A woman had been nude and masturbating before him, eager for a hard cock, and he'd felt nothing. Nothing.

Just like all the other women he had avoided over the last month.

Steeling himself inwardly, Aidan walked toward her. As she raised her gaze to meet his, the wariness in her dark eyes tightened his chest. The trust she'd given freely when he'd bedded her was gone, and he felt its loss keenly.

Sighing, she moved to a seated position and tossed her notepad to the sand. Kicking her lithe legs, she set the hammock rocking like a swing.

He came to a halt before her. "Hi."

"Hi," she said in a husky whisper, her dark eyes watching him carefully. "How are you?"

"Fine. And you?"

The meaningless banter made his teeth grind. "Not so well."

"Really?" Her demeanor changed instantly, became more genuine, less stilted. It was her nature to feel concern for others. It was one of the reasons he liked her so much.

"I'm not supposed to be here, and I can't come back after tonight." "Why?" The hammock slowed to standstill.

"There are laws." He stepped closer. "We are forbidden to form attachments to Dreamers."

"Oh."

"And I can't allow it to happen even if it were permitted. Not with my job being what it is."

Lyssa pushed up the brim of her hat. Her beautiful face so open, so revealing. "Are you speaking hypothetically?"

He shook his head.

"Are you saying it would be possible for you to form an attachment to me?" "It's not just possible," he admitted gruffly. "It's highly likely."

Frowning, she turned her head to stare at the ocean. Aidan watched the fall of her sunlit hair as it cascaded over her bare shoulder. His mouth went dry and his fists clenched. The desire to rub those golden strands between his

fingertips was nearly overwhelming.

"So why did you come then?" she asked, dropping to the sand. "Because of the way we parted."

She returned her gaze to his.

"I couldn't let you think that what happened between us was part of my job."

Lyssa was so much shorter than he was, she had to tilt her neck back to study his features.

"Thank you."

Her quiet dignity was too much for him. Closing the distance between them, he tossed her hat aside. Then he cupped her nape and kissed her. A hard, quick kiss. "I made love to you because I couldn't bear not to. Because

I wanted to more than anything. I don't regret it, and I don't want you to regret it, either."

Her small hands circled his wrists. "I don't."

He rested his forehead against hers and breathed in her scent of soft flowers.

"I feel as if I've known you a long time," she whispered. "As if I'm saying good-bye to an old, dear friend."

"I will miss you, too," he admitted, before taking her mouth and kissing her deeply. A kiss that was meant to say farewell, a memento to last him an eternity. Then her taste, sweet and heady like wine, flowed over his tongue and intoxicated him.

"Lyssa." He groaned his misery and need into her mouth.

Her slender arms tried valiantly to encircle his broad shoulders, then gave up and slid down to embrace his straining back. All the while he drank the flavor of her, stroking his tongue between her parted lips as he wanted to do with his cock, sliding his callused hands down the smooth skin of her sides.

His eyes closed, Aidan tilted his head, fitting his lips to her softer ones, swallowing her whimpers with a shudder that wracked the length of his frame. She gave as good as she got, her hands sliding beneath his shirt, caressing his bare skin, her hips arching into him, the invitation blatant and tinged with the same desperation he felt.

When her tongue tangled with his, he pulled away with a curse, every

muscle on fire with tension. He nibbled her jaw, licked and bit at her neck, distracted her as he cupped her full breast, kneading it, feeling it grow heavy with her desire. Impatient, he shoved away the fabric that intruded, and caught her nipple with his fingers, rolling it, tugging it, squeezing it with varying pressure.

"Yes…" she breathed, urging him to take all that he wanted, failing to see how starved he was for her, starved for the feeling of connection he had

found with her.

Lowering his head, he took her in his mouth, her nipple a hard, silken delight. He suckled her with hunger, his cheeks hollowing with every drawing pull, his tempo rhythmic and designed to make her cunt clench for him, to make her ache as he did.

She cupped his ass, squeezed, urged him against her. Through the thin

fabrics between them, he felt her heat, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his

nose pressed to her skin so that every breath he took was Lyssa, a scent that would forever be imprinted on his memory.

Sadness welled within him, and he lifted his head. How much worse would his attachment be if he took her again? Already all other women had lost their ability to entice him.

Her eyes fluttered open. With her ravished mouth and swollen nipple, she was a picture of wanton abandon. He could lower her to the sand, and free his cock. A quick tug would pull her swimsuit aside, allowing him to sink into her creamy depths. In all his life, he had never wanted anything as much.

"I'm afraid of what will happen," she breathed, her chest rising and falling with her labored breathing, "if we make love again. I want more, Aidan."

Pulling her tight against him, Aidan rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I'm sorry I can't give it to you."

He forced himself to release her, to relinquish her warm, curvy body. Forever.

She righted her swimsuit and looked at him with big, dark eyes. "I'm happy you came, even though you can't stay."

His thumb caressed the curve of her cheekbone. "Goodbye, Lyssa." "Good-bye."

Turning on his heel, he left her.

He felt her watching him all the way until the door shut and became an impassable barrier between them.