The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

kept her back to it. Her breath was short, her eyes closed with the realization of what she was doing. She’d worked so hard, stayed in control her whole life, and now she did nothing but wait. She gripped the railing by the stairs.
    She heard dripping, water rushing off a body climbing onto the catwalk. Still, the touch on her shoulders came as a shock and made her flinch. He must have sensed her anxiety, because he brushed her arm gently, stroking lightly with fingertips until she relaxed. Letting her grow accustomed to him, as if he were taming a wild animal. Then both his hands touched her, moved along her arms to her shoulders. Her shirt grew damp with his touch.
    He kissed the back of her neck at her hairline, below the twist she kept her hair up in. His breath was hot on her skin. Her body melted, slumping into his touch. He pulled her back, away from the stairs, slipped his body in front of hers, and pressed her against the cage. She was limp, unseeing. She let him guide her.
    He nuzzled her neck. Her nerves tingled with every touch. Overwhelmed, she moaned softly. His hands moved to the buttons of her dress shirt. He had them open before she realized it, and his hands were inside, cupping her breasts, fingers slipping under her bra.
    Instead of putting her hands on his shoulders to push him away, like she should have done, Robin clutched at him, her fingers slipping on his slick skin. She dug her nails in for a better grip.
    “Hmm,” he murmured and pinned her against the bars. It was the first sound she’d heard him make.
    He pulled her arms away just long enough to take her shirt off. His hand slid easily over her skin, and her bra fell away. His kisses moved from her neck, down to her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him close.
    She bent, unconsciously trying to pull away from so much sensation, so much of him, but the bars kept her close. She couldn’t get away. She didn’t want to. Skilfully, more deftly than she could have thought from someone who lived in water and didn’t wear clothes, he opened the zipper of her trousers, and slipped his hands into her panties. One hand caressed her backside, the other - played. Oh . . . She struggled to kick off her shoes, and get her pants off, to give him better access. He helped.
    Her clothes gone, they were naked together, skin pressed against skin. His erection was hard against her thigh. He paid attention to nothing but her, and she was overwhelmed. Locking her against him, he pulled her down to the catwalk.
    They were going to do it, right here on the catwalk, her clothes awkwardly spread out to protect her from the steel. Marina softly sang something in Irish that was no doubt very bawdy.
    And Robin felt like she had saved herself just for this moment.
    The next evening, she brought hay to the unicorn’s cell.
    “Here you go. Come on.”
    The unicorn stayed at the far end of the room, its head down, its ears laid back, its nostrils flaring angrily.
    Robin stood, arms limp at her sides. Of course. She left the hay, closed the door, and continued her rounds.
    She found a note in the lab from the day shift explaining that the problem with the security system had been fixed with a simple reboot, and if it happened again she should try it. The officer in charge sounded testy that they’d lost a whole evening’s worth of surveillance. Not that anything around here ever changed.
    Except that it had, everything had changed, and Robin didn’t want anyone to know it. She shut down the recording program again, and removed fuses from half the monitors as well, blinding them.
    “Lieutenant,” Rick called to her as she removed his pints from the incubator and prepared his supper. “Look at yourself. This isn’t like you. He has enchanted you.”
    “I don’t want to hear it,” she murmured, sliding his beakers of blood through the slot in the window.
    Rick didn’t look at them; instead, he pressed himself to the window, palms flat against the plastic, imploring. “He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, he’s only manipulating you.”
    She looked at him. Not his eyes, but his cheekbones, his ear, the dark fringe of his hair. Anything but his eyes. “Just like you would do, if I opened your door and let you seduce me?”
    Which wasn’t fair, because Rick had never tried to seduce her, never tried to take advantage of her. Not that she’d ever given him the opportunity. But he’d always spoken so kindly to her. He’d