“It’s okay. Nightmare’s over,” he whispered, pulling her close and holding her tight, but she knew in her heart, it wasn’t. Whatever evil had invaded her mind was very real and existed deep in the soul of the campus.

Shivering, trying to talk herself out of the fear that still enveloped her, she clung to him and, for a second, took solace in the pure strength of him.

He kissed her temple and she blinked back tears of relief. She knew that if he hadn’t been here, if she’d been alone, she would have woken up and dealt with the stupid nightmare on her own, but still, it felt so good to sink against him, to accept his strength.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” That was probably a lie; she was far from okay, but now that the nightmare had receded a bit and she was conscious, she wasn’t going to fall apart on him, either.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“I don’t want to think about it. Not now.” She let out a long breath and stared at him in the thin, bluish illumination coming from the stove. The room was secure, smelling of lingering garlic and tomato sauce from the pizza and jasmine from the scented candles no longer lit. The vial lay on the counter. “I’ll tell you about it later. Maybe in the morning.”

“Good.” He was sitting on the bed, still holding her, but when he moved to get more comfortable, somehow his mouth was only a breath away from hers.

Anticipation slid through her blood.

His scent filled her head, and her body responded to his nearness in traitorous ways. Her limbs turned to wax and she just needed, wanted, him to lie down with her. She struggled with the thought of pushing him aside, but she no longer had the strength or the heart. He’d accused her of wanting him and she’d told him he was crazy, but, of course, he’d been spot on. And now, she wanted him more than ever.

His eyes found hers in the darkness. Whatever he saw gave her away completely. “Kris—” he whispered.

She turned her face to him and he kissed her. Tenderly at first, as if anticipating her rejection.

But she couldn’t turn away.

Here in the sanctity of her apartment with the evils of the night locked outside, she kissed him back, opening her mouth, feeling his tongue glide between her teeth, sensing him shift so that one of his big hands splayed against the dip in her spine, just above her buttocks.

Memories of making love to him years before poured over her as she tasted him. Salty. Familiar. Sexy. So male. How had she ever thought he wasn’t good enough? That he wasn’t intellectual enough? That he wasn’t man enough?

Stupid, stupid, girl.