Carpathian 12 - Dark Melody

dwarfed the small car. His chin nuzzled Corinne's hair. "I am not a serial killer, although it is nice to know you have some instinct for self-preservation."
    He closed the door on her shocked expression, his arrogant, bad-boy grin very much in evidence.
    Lisa put her head down on the steering wheel. "Don't say it, Corinne. I don't know what I was thinking, giving him our address like that. He's just – I don't know, too much. I couldn't think straight for a minute there with his eyes staring at me as if he could see right through me. I'm sorry. You don't think he's some kind of crazy person, do you?"
    "I think we're the crazy ones." It was a relief to be away from the potency of Dayan's company. He made Corinne feel out of control. Spinning madly. Wild. Sexy. Wanting. "And he did point out he wasn't a serial killer. That was comforting news, unless serial killers regularly make such statements to strange women."
    Both women dissolved into laughter, dispelling most of the tension in the car. Corinne found she could breathe again, think again, as Lisa put the car in gear and, honking the horn, plunged bravely into traffic.
    "So, are you looking at Cullen? Because he's certainly looking at you." Corinne rubbed her palms up and down her arms over the exact spot Dayan's arms had held her. Oddly, she could still feel him close to her. She could smell his scent on her, and it was strangely comforting.
    "I really think Cullen is great," Lisa admitted. "You know how I hate being the decorative doll on the big guy's arm. He didn't make me feel like that at all, not once. He's nice, Rina. Very nice. And when I realized you were gone, he was so sweet, reassuring me that Dayan wasn't a playboy preying on women.
    The truth is, I panicked. I don't feel comfortable when you're out of my sight anymore." She threw Corinne a quick, mischievous grin as she rolled through the next three stop signs and narrowly missed jumping a curb. "I sound like I'm two and afraid to leave my mommy. Cullen's cute, though not in a kiddy Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    way." She tugged on Corinne's sleeve. "And what was that?"
    "What was what?" Corinne tried to sound innocent, but a blush slowly crept up her neck into her face.
    "You know exactly what I mean," Lisa accused, her eyes laughing. "That dance."
    "Oh, that." Corinne pushed both hands through her mass of gleaming hair and lifted it off her neck, the gesture curiously sexy. "That was scorching."
    Lisa let out a whistle. "Scorching? Not just hot?"
    Corinne shook her head solemnly. "Absolutely, totally scorching. That man is lethal and shouldn't be allowed to live anywhere near the female population."
    "I'm a believer. You've always been immune to men. If he can scorch you, he should definitely be locked up somewhere."
    "Somewhere where we can still look at him," Corinne suggested with a little smile curving her soft mouth.
    An intriguing dimple appeared briefly, then melted away, leaving Lisa wondering where it had gone.
    "You like him." Lisa made it a statement. She knew she was overprotective of Corinne. But Corinne was terribly vulnerable. A man like Dayan might easily sweep her off her feet. Anyone looking at him could see he was a dangerous man. A rock star, a musician. Half the female population was after him. But there was something about the way he looked at Corinne…
    "Like him?" Corinne echoed the words thoughtfully. "I don't think he's a man who would inspire such an insipid word as like. I feel safe when I'm with him, and yet threatened at the same time. It makes no sense. I do and say things entirely out of character for me. What's really strange, Lisa, is I feel as if I've known him forever, that I'm supposed to be with him." She took a deep breath and made a hurried confession. "And I can't look at him without feeling like jumping into bed. At first I thought it was because I love his music. Ever since I ran across that old LP, I've worked at collecting everything of the Dark Troubadours I could. You know, the idol trap that women occasionally fall into when the musician happens to be a godlike creature. But I think he's rather like a flame and I'm a little moth flying way too close to him. It's called chemistry. Explosive, natural chemistry."
    "Really?" There was definite interest in Lisa's voice. She lifted one eyebrow in inquiry. "Spill all, Corinne.
    Are we talking sex here?"
    "You saw him. He oozes sex. I've never met anyone