The Fifth Victim. BEVERLY BARTON

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      Chapter 5

      For a split second Dallas couldn’t think straight. All he could do was react to the feeling of having this beautiful woman in his arms. Although she was small and slender, her body rounded in all the right places. At the present moment her high, full breasts were pressing into his naked chest. And her long, silky black hair draped over his shoulder. He took a deep breath, eased Genny off him, and laid her gently back on the bed.

      She’d said that it wasn’t just a dream. What did that mean? Some maniac had cut a young girl wide open out in the woods in the county where Genny lived. Her cousin was the sheriff and had probably told her more than he should have about the gruesome murder. Undoubtedly she’d had the recent killing on her mind when she’d gone to bed, and her subconscious had created a hideous nightmare.

      He could still hear the panicked scream that had awakened him. Genny had been terrified. But once she’d fully awakened and realized she was not only safe, but also not alone, she should have recovered quickly. She hadn’t. She’d fainted dead away, as if for some reason she was totally exhausted.

      While she lay there, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady, he studied her face. The face of an angel. His gaze traveled downward and came to a screeching halt where her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. Her nipples were tight, peaking against the soft cotton material of her long-sleeved pajama top.

      Dallas swallowed hard. Now was not the time to get all hot and bothered over a fine piece of ass. Two seconds after the thought flashed through his mind, he grimaced. Why the hell had he done that—reduced his attraction to this woman as nothing more than lust? It had become a fatal flaw with him. Whenever he found himself more than mildly interested in a woman, he convinced himself that there was nothing emotional about it, simply normal male libido.

      Genny groaned softly. Her eyelids fluttered.

      Dallas caressed her cheek.

      She opened her eyes and looked up at him. The fear he’d noticed only moments ago was gone, replaced by weariness.

      “Are you all right?” he asked.

      “Tired. Very tired.”

      “I don’t understand. Why would a nightmare drain you this way?”

      “They always leave me very weak.”

      She tried to lift her hand, to reach out for him. When he realized how difficult the effort was for her, he grabbed her hand in his and held it against his chest.

      He still didn’t understand. It had to be highly unusual for a nightmare to devastate a person the way it had Genny.

      “What can I do to help you?”

      “Stay with me. Please. Until I recover.”

      “This has happened to you before?”

      She nodded. “Many times.”

      “How long will it—”

      “Several hours.”

      “Rest. I’ll stay right here.”

      “Dallas?”

      “Yes?”

      “From time to time, try the phones. Jacob needs to know.”

      “About your dream?”

      She nodded. “About the second sacrifice.”

      Again, the blood ran cold through Dallas’s veins. Damn! Half a dozen wild thoughts went through his head. The second sacrifice … the second sacrifice.

      “Genny?”

      When she didn’t respond, he glanced down at her and realized she had fallen asleep. He lowered her arm down beside her, then eased off the bed and paced around the bedroom. Drudwyn’s keen eyes followed his every move.

      “What’s going on with her, boy?” he asked the dog.

      Drudwyn rose, came forward, and halted at Dallas’s side. Two concerned gazes met, locked, and exchanged an odd sense of understanding. Both would protect Genevieve Madoc to the death.

      “Hell,” Dallas cursed under his breath. Protect this woman to the death? СКАЧАТЬ