Nicolas buried his face in the silken tangle of her hair and inhaled their mingled scents. “That’s not true, Dahlia. There was nothing wrong with you as a child, and there isn’t anything wrong with you now. Why do you think your nurse stayed all those years? Loyalty to Whitney? A paycheck? She was as isolated out in the bayou as you were, maybe more. She chose to stay with you, even if it meant deceiving you and living a limited life. She had no other children. I saw the earlier tapes, when you were a child. She was there, much younger, but she stood up to Whitney for you. And she was frightened by what he’d done.”
She rubbed her chin on his forearm. “You mean by the monster he created.”
“Not a monster, Dahlia. A GhostWalker. There are more of us than you know, and we are a family of sorts. You aren’t alone.”
She closed her eyes. She wasn’t alone at the moment and that was enough for her. Nicolas wanted to believe in fairy tales. She’d read her share, hoping for miracles, but in the end, there was no hundred-acre wood to play in with little stuffed animals. There was pain and crushing disappointment and betrayal. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she refused to shed them, holding Nicolas close to her and allowing the rocking of his body to soothe her to sleep.
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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“Someone’s outside,” Nicolas whispered, leaning across her to get his gun. How he managed to be on the wrong side of the bed again was beyond him. He felt the familiar butt of the Beretta in his hand just as the front door opened. He shifted to put his body between Dahlia and the open door of the bedroom. They had slept far too late for it to be morning. Sunlight poured through the window along with the heat.
“I know you’re holding a gun on me, Nico,” Gator’s voice called from the front room. “Put it away. It’s not very nice when I’ve been so hospitable.” Suddenly Gator was framed in the doorway, grinning at them, his black, unruly hair tumbling into his face and his piercing blue eyes bright with laughter. “Oh, I see you are most friendly with each other. And Lily was so worried.” He turned his head. “Ian, Tucker, come look at this. Our man has found himself a little kitty cat.”
“Shut up, Gator, or I’m going to shoot you.” Nicolas put the gun away and looked down at Dahlia. She had the covers pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were enormous and getting bigger by the moment as more GhostWalkers crowded into the doorway to gape at the sight of Nicolas, the loner, in bed with Dahlia.
“And you said he didn’t know what to do with a woman,” Tucker Addison accused the tallest of the group, Ian McGillicuddy.
“I stand corrected.” Ian gave Nicolas a small salute.
Dahlia made a small distressed squeak. Nicolas picked up the gun. “I’m going to start shooting if the lot of you don’t get out and close the door.”
“What a poor sport,” Gator groused. “And it’s my house.” He reached for the doorknob, winking at Nicolas as he closed it firmly.
There was a small silence. Dahlia groaned and pulled the cover over her head. “I’m never getting up again. Go away, Nicolas and take that motley crew with you. There is no way I’m going to face all those men.”
“There weren’t that many,” he coaxed, tugging at the cover. “At least they didn’t walk in, in the middle of one of our firestorms.”
“Nicolas, I don’t have any clothes.” She sucked in her breath, her eyes going wide. “You don’t think Lily is with them, do you?”
“No, I’m sure she stayed behind with Ryland.” Throwing off the covers he stretched, then turned back to her, gathering her into his arms. She was stiff, resisting him. Nicolas blew warm air against her skin. She shivered in response. He lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed his way up to her ear.
“That’s not fair,” she pushed at him. She was utterly annoyed that she sounded breathless. That she was breathless. “You can’t be doing that.”