As sunlight flooded his vision, Aidan blinked and stared down at the woman in his arms. His heart stopped, every cell in his body arrested by the flowing golden tresses that tumbled across the sand.

“What…?” She gasped, lovely dark eyes widened in surprise. “Where are we?”

A soft tropical breeze ruffled his hair and reggae played in the background, but his eyes never left her face. She was confused, her short nails digging into the skin of his forearms, and he couldn’t form one coherent word to reassure her.

Lyssa Bates was stunningly beautiful, her features both patrician and sensual. Her mouth full and red, kissable. Her eyes tip-tilted seductively, revealing both intelligence and innocence. Why had she pictured herself as worn and tired looking?

Because that’s the way she felt.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her fingertips touching his face reverently. “You’re gorgeous.”

And then they were plunged into darkness. The music fell silent and the fragrant sea breeze disappeared, leaving only the two of them intertwined, their hearts racing next to each other.

“What happened?” she cried plaintively.

Aidan was immobilized in shock. He had desired her scent, the feel of her body, the blunt way she spoke… Regardless of her facial appearance, he’d wanted to take her beneath him and fuck her senseless. Sex as a distraction had always worked for him, and from her response to his embrace he’d known it would work for her, too.

Then he saw her. And now he wanted something more.

“You got scared,” he managed hoarsely. “Lost the dream.”

As he struggled with the implications, she resumed caressing his face, learning his features by touch like a sculptor would. He had no idea what she’d seen in the light. Her dream would make him into whatever she desired most. For the first time he resented that, wishing the effect he had on her was genuine and the face she admired so much was his own.
“Aidan?” Her sweet voice was low, tentative. Lonely.

Just like he was.

He rolled, pulling her over him, his arms dropping to the ground. His head fell back and his eyes closed, the weight of his dilemma crushing his chest, making it hard to breathe. An eternity of seducing had made this moment abundantly clear—something fragile had taken root in that brief moment their eyes had met.

It needed to be crushed, and Lyssa forgotten.

“Yes?” His voice was gruff and he felt the confusion it caused ripple through her. He should let her go, move her off him.

But he couldn’t do it.

Then she lowered her mouth to his, her softly fragrant hair surrounding him, encasing them together, until all he was cognizant of was her and how much he wanted her. Her lips touched his, a brief kiss, a gentle pressing. He groaned in painful awareness. Emboldened, her tongue flicked out, wetting his bottom lip before she sucked on it with a rhythmic pull that made his cock swell and ache. Lyssa set her hands on either side of his head, lifting slightly to brush her breasts back and forth across his chest.

Aidan Cross, Elite Warrior and immortal seducer, was being consummately seduced for the first time in his endless memory. And Lyssa Bates was very, very good at it.

He’d wanted to distract her and get laid. Now, mating with Lyssa had become a dangerous tangle. His brain was not analyzing step by step the best way to excite her so he could hurry up and thrust his cock into her. His brain was barely functioning at all, other than registering panic at the depth of his craving. He wanted to hold her close, take his time, arouse her to madness with his mouth and hands before sliding into her and letting her come. Over and over again.

Not to forget himself. But to find himself. To remember what it felt like when he still had hope left, to remember when he hadn’t been afraid to care about someone.

Opening his mouth to speak, he was instead plundered by her kiss, her tongue sweeping inside, stroking along his, making him shiver. She moved, her thighs straddling his hips, her cunt to his cock, her lithe body gliding sinuously along his in a full body caress. His chest rose and fell so rapidly he felt dizzy. Sweating, he reached for her, the goal to push her away, but his muscles refused to comply.

“The sand,” he gasped, turning his head, which freed her mouth to nibble along his jaw.

Instantly, sand cushioned his back.

“The sun.” If he forced her focus to shift, perhaps her ardor would lessen enough to allow him to resist.

The air around then lightened slowly, like a sunrise, bathing her in a golden glow that formed a halo through her hair. She was an angel to him, a woman both open and innocent, yet not as fragile as circumstances made her appear.

“Please, don’t stop,” she breathed in his ear, making him shiver.

“Lyssa.” His jaw tightened. “You don’t understand.”

She ground her hips downward onto him, his cock jerking at the feel of her heat burning through to his most sensitive skin. “You want me,” she argued stubbornly.

“Yes, but there are things you don’t know.”

“Okay, so tell me.” She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest, a move that said so much in its defiance and defensiveness. “This is my damn dream, and I still don’t get the hot guy?”

“You’ll get me,” he said, his fingers kneading restlessly into her thighs. “But first we have to come to an agreement.”

One light brown eyebrow arched and then she stood, leaving him bereft. “Forget it.”

She took off down the beach, and he rolled to his side and watched her. Dressed in gray sweat pants and white T-shirt, she looked adorable. He wanted to cuddle her and stare at her, memorize every nuance of her perfect features. “No way am I bribing sex out of my own dream,” she muttered. “I may be hard up, but I’ve got my pride.”

“Lyssa…”

“You’re free to go.” She waved farewell over one stiff shoulder. “I’ll just head around this palm tree here and dream up a guy who’s into me.”

Aidan was on his feet and after her before he could consider the flare of possessiveness that moved him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It made him angry and when he grabbed her, he was rough, jerking her to a halt. “I’m into you,” he growled, catching her hand and yanking it crudely to his crotch. His cock pulsed in her palm in reaction to her touch.

Her eyes widened. Then she gave him a delicious squeeze. His jaw clenched as heat lanced up his spine.

Lyssa had no idea where that bit of boldness came from. Yes, Aidan was hot enough to melt mental synapses and her cells had been sleep deprived to begin with, but to cup a stranger’s cock like she had every right to… Of course it had been his idea… And this was a dream…

Still, the man was over six feet tall, with shoulders so broad she couldn’t see past him. His torso tapered to a lean waist, trim hips and powerful thighs. The memory of those thighs between hers made her mouth dry. And the cock in her hand was weighty and thick. She slid her touch upward, judging length, and blinked in awe.

Then again, he was huge everywhere, why not here, too?

Wow, she must have some kinky subconscious fantasies to make him that big. Who knew she had it in her?

Ohhh… in her. Her grasp tightened.

The ticking muscle in his jaw and burning blue gaze told her she was pushing it, but she couldn’t make herself let go. He dripped wicked, erotic, decadent sex from every pore.

Damn. Finally, after all these years, she had a dream about the perfect guy, and she couldn’t get it right. Figures. She released him reluctantly, and turned away.

He fell into step beside her. With a covert glance she studied him, noting the loose natural linen slacks and shirt he wore, which offered comfort and ease of movement. His clothing was almost like surgical scrubs or a Karate Gi.

“Lyssa Bates,” he began.

“No one calls me by my name like that.” She looked ahead and to the sides, anywhere but at him. To the right, Caribbean-clear water stretched as far as the eye could see. To the left, sand went on endlessly. No breeze, no trees. She concentrated hard, and watched in amazement as a short baby sago palm popped out of the ground in front of Aidan, nearly tripping him.

“Hey,” he grumbled, “Watch it.”

She laughed.

His sidelong glance revealed a reluctant smile. “I want you. I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Sure.”

“There are things you need to know first.”

“You don’t date seriously, you’re not looking for a girlfriend, no attachments. It’s just sex.”

“Yes, all that, and I’m a Dream Guardian.”

Her brows rose. “O-kay… That’s a new one.”

“The sand, the sea, your clothes, even the darkness–they are inventions of your mind. I am not.”

“You’re not?”

“No. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.”

Lyssa kicked at the sand. “Yeah, I figured that one out already.”

He reached out and caught her hand, then dropped it as if it burned him.

Staring down, she saw his hands clench into fists. “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. “Which explains why you’ve been so nice to me.”

Aidan stumbled to a halt.

She turned and looked at him. “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. Sure, he had the body of a boxer, but he’d been kind to her. Compassionate.

“What’s an Elite Warrior?”

“I’m assigned to Dreamers with recurring Nightmares.”

“Like a bodyguard?”

“More like a military rescue.”

“That’s why you’re so big.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you see when you look at me. Your dream is fabricating my appearance. Dreamers can’t see Guardians. Your subconscious fills in the gaps.”

“Oh.” Suddenly depressed, Lyssa sank down to the sand and wrapped her arms around her upraised knees. “Why do I need an Elite Warrior in my dreams?”

“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 again?”

“Yes.”

God, I really am pathetic. 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 cross-legged on the beach between her and the ocean. With his cream colored clothing and dark hair, the blue of his eyes was startling against the ocean backdrop. He was the most gorgeous, luscious masculine animal she had ever seen. Even as she applauded her imagination, she mourned that he wasn’t real.

It 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 in a voice devoid of inflection.

Since the Nightmares had discovered the human subconscious through the fissure, 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 kind, 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 your kind. We’ve become phantasms, taking on the form and nuances of each individual subconscious.”

Shifting sand through her fingers, 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.”

“They just want to come in, look around, and see if there are any Nightmares lurking in here? That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Despite what he said, she got the distinct impression he wasn’t telling her everything. “So if most people don’t know what’s up, what do you do in their dreams?”

“Whatever they need done to move through the Twilight in the shortest amount of time.”

“Whatever they need, huh?” She studied him, noting the tensing of his jaw.

I’ll do more than say it.

“You do more than kick ass, don’t you?” Her stomach churned when Aidan didn’t say anything, which said everything. She’d felt his expertise in his touch, had tasted it in his kiss, would have been fucking him blind right now if he hadn’t put on the breaks. The man knew his way around a woman’s body. “Wow, dirty job, but someone’s got to do it, eh? Do you all go around…?”

“No. Just the Sensual Guardians.”

“I thought you were a fighter?”

“A warrior,” he corrected.

“A man of many talents.” Blowing out her breath, Lyssa stood and dusted off her hands on her sweats, hiding her quivering lower lip. “Go ahead and tell them I’ll let them in.”

He stood, too, and came toward her. Setting his large hands on her shoulders, he lowered his head, his lips parted for a kiss. She jerked away.

“Thanks, but you can just go.” 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.”

“It was your fear that held you back,” he said behind her. “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, sheltering her racing heart with her hands. “Damn it, you scared the shit out of me! Don’t do that.”

But Aidan didn’t look like he was playing. His sapphire gaze was dark and hot, heavy lidded with desire. “I want you.”

The simple statement started a quiver in her belly that expanded into a full-fledged shiver of awareness. The look in his eyes promised sex and sweat and stunning orgasms.

“Uh, that’s nice…but I’m going to pass.” Her voice was shakier than she would have wished. He had been her comfort, her rock to lean on. Could his solace have been a duty, nothing more? She’d thought they had a rare connection.

Which showed just how messed up she really was.

“Why?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m not into pity fucks.” She actually heard his teeth grind, but despite the tension radiating from his frame, she wasn’t afraid of him. “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 know that’s not the reason I want you.”

“I do? Hmm… I wonder why you weren’t swept away by the moment when I was rubbing myself all over you. Was it uncontrollable passion that made you stop and explain the rules first? I must be doing it all wrong then. Silly me. When I get horny, I think about sex.” 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 cream-colored living room.