His gaze caressed hers. "From the Land of Nod."
She stepped forward, the pain within him drawing her closer than advisable. The reference dangled within her overloaded mind, but she couldn't geographically place where he meant. Slowly, the earthy, alluring scent of him wafted toward her, causing her lids to become heavy. This was the sexiest entity she'd ever encountered in her life. She had to remember that she wasn't supposed to allow her brain to go anywhere near there. Before she knew it, she heard her Isis clatter to the tile floor, abandoned. "What is your name?"
He shook his head and looked away. "It will make you pick up your blade again, and that cannot happen. Suffice it to say that, this time around, I am my brother's keeper. His will be done." He chuckled sadly, walked toward her, and then reached out an unsteady hand to touch her cheek with the tips of trembling fingers. "Oh, Damali, I have learned, and time teaches with a hard rod. Love, if I could save you time and turmoil, I would. But it is not my place, but if it were... if only it were."
She almost closed her eyes and fought within herself to back away a bit. The light touch burned where it fell. The level of pent-up need beneath it transmitted right into her skin and fused with the shiver he'd sent down her spine. "Then how did you get in here as a spirit?"
He stepped closer. "I'm both spirit and flesh," he murmured. "There was a time when I could . . ."
"Don't come closer. Explain." She needed distance, battle space, if necessary, but definitely a moment to get her head together. This being was setting off erotic depth charges within her that had awakened her body to a level of desire that was only supposed to be experienced with the one man she'd committed herself to.
"My apologies," the entity said quietly, but his eyes told her he was anything but sorry. "I may have been abrupt in approaching you in this manner... but I was so moved." He lifted his chin, the muscle pulsing in his jaw, and crossed the room. "An explanation is, indeed, in order."
"Thank you," she said, able to catch her breath only once he'd crossed the room.
"You feel guilt because you have committed to another in the flesh. I understand."
They stared at each other. She wasn't sure where this was going, and knew in her soul she shouldn't inquire more... but . . .
He nodded. "I was your first lover. Do not forget that."
"Okay, now you're tripping." She forced herself to chuckle, but her laughter faded as she stared at his intensely serious eyes. It was hard to laugh off a warm-bodied, fine, very na**d spirit entity that was sculpted to perfection, standing in her bathroom with an erection that wouldn't quit. She had to get him out of her house, now.
"During your first yearnings, I was there. I came through your music. I, alone, was with you during your first Neteru ripening." He drew a long, shuddering breath, and sent his gaze beyond her window, and then closed his eyes. "You wanted to be loved so badly it came through your music. The moment of conception of each line... sweet agony." As she stared at him, he began to slowly pace back and forth at the far side of the room wearing only a Neteru blade harnessed down the center of his back, and leaving her trapped between feeling horrified, flattered, violated, and extremely turned on. His primal male scent filled the room in indigo spires that ransomed her senses. She couldn't help but stare at the sculpted symmetry of his back, watching a labyrinth of steel-cable sinew work under his polished copper skin all the way down to the dip that created a valley in his spine and gave rise to a tight, muscular ass... and thighs... and calves. He was a gorgeous male specimen if ever there was one.
Swirls of color began to fill his aura as he made a tent with his long graceful fingers in front of his mouth and collected his thoughts, his body-light literally beginning to fuse with the multihued prisms coming through the stained glass. It was the most sublimely erotic thing she'd ever witnessed as his skin absorbed and reflected the light. Then he suddenly stopped, turned, looked at her hard, and opened his arms.
"Damali, I am apexing. For an entire year you left me--for him! You married him in a realm that is not even to be spoken of, and your loyalty shunned me for that. If you have so chosen to be his wife, then te his wife in the Light. Make it a legitimate bond from the high realms so that I may not cross to you again, but as long as there is ambiguity, you torment me!" he shouted. Tears filled his eyes and his voice became gravelly. "I could take it, before. Before the veil between our worlds had been pierced and I was mere spirit, I could take it! But I cannot take it as flesh."
"I didn't know, I never knew--"
"Tonight, you wanted to be alone with me, on this summer solstice eve, while I am apexing... while I need you now more than you can comprehend... after a year of abstinence from you, your body quivered for the touch of creative conception." He pointed toward the filled bath. "Salt water carries a charge, a current. Your voice carried the caress di-rectly to me. Your spirit opened the door and willed me through it. Your skin ignited the tub, and if I were a younger man without some measure of will, I would have become manifest right in there with you when you opened your beautiful legs to the suds! Why do you haunt me so?"
She opened her mouth and closed it. Watching his desire build fed hers until she almost couldn't stand. Damali reached out her hand to lean against the door frame. "Listen," she said, her words coming out in a breathy pant, "I . . ."
He walked to the foot of the tub and snatched up his torn robe. "And you now have extreme carnal knowledge to add to my misery? Before you knew, when you were still a virgin, even then I could withstand... but after, I will never rest!" he said, briefly closing his eyes. "Your music is different, deeper, huskier, sultrier, and builds on experience to crescendo in a way that only a woman with such knowledge could make happen. Mercy. I implore your compassion."
He looked up toward her skylight, as though addressing Heaven as he continued to speak. "I was to learn selfless sacrifice for my offenses. I did that. Eons of what you call lessons are only masqueraded torture for me. And this last trial is beyond my endurance--I cannot teach her and remain distant! It is her choice; free will. We must all abide by that."
His eyes lowered to meet hers, his voice a hoarse whisper of want that radiated in heat waves throughout the semilit room, making the candles sputter. "Damali, my love, there have been nights when I have wanted to take my own blade to my throat." His voice faltered, and he pulled on the ragged garment. "Do you not understand the relationship between creative conception, sound waves, and emotion? We were lovers. Oh, yes, Damali, and I loved you well," he whispered, "and the things you did to me are beyond compare."
Her jaw went slack. His impassioned confession was turning her legs to jelly. He'd already caused her to swell and slick moisture to build between her thighs. Her ni**les stung so badly that it was all she could do not to cover them with her hands.
"Tonight, after your panic, whereby you thought I was what shall not be named, your lover will come to you, and he will benefit from this conversation." He looked at her, not allowing her eyes to leave his. "I have accepted that. You should as well. There is no guilt to be had in such things. Your body requires it, and my desire is that you never suffer want. But do know that just as he has provided for you, so have I. Do not diminish my value or my commitment."
She raked her fingers through her locks. Her brain was screaming. "I can't be with him and be with you at the same time. I can't think of you while I'm making love to him. What are you saying?" She clutched her hair as the renewed horror of it shot through her. "That isn't right." His eyes glittered with a level of knowledge that she couldn't fathom, and his lush mouth offered her a sly, primal, sexy smile. "Damali," he breathed, "every high note you've hit belonged, in part, to me."
"No, no, no no, no," she said, beginning to frantically pace. "There were times when it was just him and me and no music in the mix. Most times. Only on occasion was I composing in my head while with him. No."
"Oh, yes . . ." he said, the bass in the tone of his response bottoming out at the pit of her stomach, causing it to clench. "You compose your best music when you are making love. I will admit that there were times you denied me. I acknowledge his private possession of you with the utmost respect." He nodded and gave her a slight bow with a disarming smile. "However, just before and just after, you are always mine. When he was not there, and you needed to be touched, I was always there. He is not the only one that produces delirium... or gives you white knuckles as you clench the sheets. Do be honest with yourself, if not with me." He inhaled sharply, and let the thought fester between them for a moment. "When you are--"
"Stop," she murmured, holding up her hand.
"Why?"
She stared at him for a moment. "Because."
He nodded. "I understand that, as well." He waited a beat, his devastating smile drawing her eyes to his mouth. "When you thought he was dead, and you ripened alone... lover, I was there for it all. Thank you."