Possession by Linda Mooney Page B

her face and read it correctly.
    “J, I swear to God, the last thing we ever expected to hear come out of your mouth was to affirm what we’ve been trying to deny these past couple of weeks.”
    “That you were dead?”
    “Yeah.” It was softer than a sigh.
    One minute passed. The grandfather clock in the entryway chimed the quarter hour. The wood in the fireplace hissed. The rough warmth it put out felt surprisingly good on her bare skin.
    “So, how did you manage to fool the police and go back to work?”
    He chuckled again, but without the humor. “It’s a very long and convoluted piece of trickery Sam and I devised. But as long as I’m able to keep myself solidified, I can pass myself off as one of the living.”
    He shifted slightly before continuing. “When we’re off the clock, Sam and I have been trying to find my body. Find out what happened to me after that raid.”
    Reaching up, he ran the tips of his fingers over her cheek. J closed her eyes, savoring the touch.
    “I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers. “It’s been a long day for you, and I’m keeping you from resting.”
    “I’m glad you came,” she said hurriedly, yet neither one of them made a move to get up from the divan. J took the advantage to move closer to him. Just enough to where she could lower her forehead and let it rest on a muscled shoulder. The contact filled her with promise. “Thank you again for all you did today to help me. Up in that apartment, I mean.”
    His fingers came up again and brushed her cheek, trailing down to her jaw. The path he left awakened her senses, making her wish he would go back and touch her again. But they kept moving, caressing her skin until they reached her chin. Then, to her utter surprise and delight, he lifted her chin slightly. His lips came down over hers, warm and totally unexpected. There was no movement on his part. No mashing or attempt to breach the shallow opening between her lips and surge into her mouth. Just a soft pressure, not any firmer than when he had held her hand. Then it was gone.
    Wordlessly he got to his feet and headed for the front door. J struggled to stand and tried to follow him. She managed to catch him before he closed the door behind him.
    “Kiel?”
    “Goodnight, J. We’ll be calling you tomorrow.”
    “Okay,” she replied weakly. She saw his glow fade in the distance. Then, a blink later, it was gone.
    Mechanically, she closed the door and locked it. Making her way back into the library, she checked to make sure the screen was up in front of the fireplace before trudging upstairs to her cold and lonely bedroom.
    She changed into her cotton pajamas before crawling underneath the sheet and hand-sewn quilt, and listened to the sounds of the old house settling. The creaks and groans she’d grown up hearing were familiar and comforting because she knew there was nothing that could hurt her inside her sanctuary.
    Lying there, she followed the path of his fingers with her own until she reached her mouth. His kiss had been the sweetest thing she had ever felt in her life. It had been more sensuous than any other kiss she’d experienced. Why he’d kissed her was a mystery. Maybe it was a thank you for listening to his story without condemnation. Or maybe it was because he wanted so hard to believe he was still among the living, and the simple act of touching and kissing was his way of confirming that.
    Or maybe he’d kissed her because she’d so desperately wanted him to. And somehow he had known that.
    Rolling over onto her side, J curled up and tried to unwind, but her mind remained in a state of unrest. More, her body continued to remind her of his strength and his warmth. He had touched only her hands, her shoulders, and her face. He had yet to embrace her, and J wondered how deeply it would affect her when he did.
    When he did.
    She groaned. There was no doubt in her mind that Kiel Stark would take her into his arms. Perhaps