Warm hands touched her face, caressed her cheek. The demons of madness laughed rabidly, but retreated.
"Nikki?"
She opened her eyes, studying Michael for a heartbeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes full of compassion and a certain amount of wariness.
"Hold me,” she whispered, pushing the blankets aside and struggling upright. “Please, just hold me." He drew her into his arms. She leaned a cheek against the bare warmth of his chest, allowing the heat of his touch to chase the chill away. Allowed the tender caress of his thoughts to chase the last strands of darkness from her mind.
"You have to fight him, Nikki."
"How?” Her voice cracked slightly, and she bit her lip. But how could she fight Jasper when she'd never been able to fight Tommy? Jasper's evil was far more intense than Tommy's ever had been. But she'd survived Tommy, and she'd survived three nights of Jasper's insanity. She'd survive this—any way she could.
Michael held her silently, the rock to which she clung in the ever-turbulent currents of her life. Gradually, almost unwillingly, she became aware of his scent, musky yet fresh; aware of the slight tension in the arms that held her so gently. She could hear his heart pounding as erratically as her own. She lifted her head and met his gaze. His smile made her heart do an odd little somersault. He gently touched her cheek, then ran his fingers down to her lips. “Not making love to you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
Her pulse leapt beneath his touch. She kissed his fingers, then reached up and traced the firm line of his jaw. “I don't want your restraint, Michael. I want you."
Just touch me. Hold me. Love me. She bit her lip and looked away from the understanding in his eyes. What she was doing wasn't fair, but there wasn't any other way to drive Jasper from her thoughts. Was it too much to ask for just an hour, maybe two, of Jasper's darkness not staining her thoughts?
He sighed and closed his eyes. Fighting the needs of his body, she thought. It was a battle she didn't want him to win.
Leaning forward, she captured his lips with her own. He groaned and tightened his arms around her, his lips suddenly harsh against hers.
Then he pulled away. “Don't do this, Nikki.” His voice was ragged, dark eyes troubled.
"Why not?” What was wrong with wanting to kiss him, make love to him, until the darkness ran away and there was nothing but the two of them alone?
Couldn't he see she needed this, needed to keep the darkness and insanity at bay?
"Nikki, it's wrong."