In the blink of an eye he seemed to move several feet. He stood right in front of her with almost no inches to spare.

He reached out and she flinched. Instead of retreating he brushed his fingers over her cheek. "You feel it, I feel it. There is something between us."

Clarissa swallowed hard. "Huh. If that isn't the biggest line I've ever heard."

"Line?"

"You know what I'm talking about. A come on."

He grinned and the overwhelming sensuality in his face made her heartbeat pick up the pace. "It is, isn't it? I'll give you full disclosure down to the last desire. Emotional and physical reactions, thoughts, needs, desires. Would that ease your fears?"

All suitable retorts flew out the window. She didn't have much experience with men revealing their inner thoughts to her, especially not on short acquaintance, but maybe if she knew more about this mysterious Irishman she could decipher his game.

"Right now? I have somewhere to be," she said.

He gave a slight bow at the waist, an old-world gesture she found charming. "My apologies, Clarissa. I'm not always at my best during the day. I'm a night owl."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

He laughed, the sound brushing over her erogenous zones like a lover's caress. For an unfathomable few seconds she sank into the odd but pleasant sensation. She shivered with a finely drawn ecstasy she could only describe as a peak experience. In one moment she felt cherished, protected, and loved.

How ridiculous. I don't even know him and I'm weaving these elaborate feelings and fantasies. Insanity.

A secretive smile touched his lips, then disappeared so fast she couldn't be certain she even saw it."Whatever happens between us will be natural. Nothing malignant."

"The only thing that's going to happen between us is you explaining what this is all about. This mind reading thing, how you got into my room and so forth. You'll cough up answers or I'm kicking you out right now." She rustled up courage. "Iwill call the police."

Ronan took a step closer. Despite her independence and ability to take care of herself, something about him made her feel feminine and delicate. Standing so near, his presence drew her closer and closer. She inhaled deeply as her heart pounded. As she breathed in his tantalizing scent, a strange dizziness overtook her, and she let out a little gasp. A vision clouded her sight, and as her knees weakened she felt his arms go around her waist in support.

"Clarissa." His voice went husky with worry. "Clarissa what is it?"

His voice faded as she slipped into a dream world where she could see Ronan dressed in colonial garb like that worn by men during the American Revolution. As they marched into battle against the Redcoats, another man walked alongside him, a skinny fellow with a narrow face and small frame. She could smell sweat and urine, the vile stench of human fear as men walked towards certain death. Shivering, she suffered a deep, sorrowful ache for those who wouldn't survive. Seconds later Clarissa realized she resided in Ronan's body and saw what he saw, felt what he felt. His heart didn't pound with fear, nor did he flinch at danger. He knew what he would do and how he would do it. He understood the thin man beside him would back him up.

She hardly registered Ronan's rough Irish accent coaxing her from the vision. "Clarissa.

Wake up. Wake now, darlin'."

Her eyes snapped open. He sat on the bed with her cradled her in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder. The whole episode shook her to the core. Struggling out of his grip, she immediately stood and looked down at him. Her breath sluiced in and out of her lungs and her heart continued to pound. Everything, including her attraction to Ronan, moved way too fast for comfort.

He frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Of course. I just...you may think it's insane, but I have visions sometimes about people or places. It's nothing to worry about."

His eyes narrowed. "What did you see?"

"The American Revolution. You were there, and I could see through your eyes part of the time. There was a skinny man next to you."

When he remained sitting on the bed, looking at her like she might have grown a second head, she burned with embarrassment. On the other hand, if he believed her to be a couple chess pieces short of a set, maybe he'd leave her alone.

He stood and it brought him too near again. "Sorley. He's a friend in this life."

"So you believe in reincarnation."

"I do." He shifted, his gaze penetrating and asking her things she didn't think she wished to answer. "We'll have to take more time to talk about reincarnation." Again his attention caressed her, his eyes warm and filled with definite male interest. "After we've taken the edge off what is happening between us."

She jerked from the sensual haze threatening to overwhelm her common sense. "Nothing is happening and nothing will happen between us. Like I said, I can call the police if you don't leave."

He shrugged one shoulder insolently. "If you called the police it wouldn't matter. I'd disappear and they wouldn't find me no matter how hard they'd try."

A new worry formed inside her. "You make a habit of running from the police?"

"No."

"Are you a criminal?"

His irreverent grin made her angrier. "If I was, would I tell you?"

She sniffed. "Considering your impudence, yes, I think you'd admit it."

"All right, here's the truth. I'm not a criminal nor at any time in my life have I been a criminal."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"You can ask Lachlan Tavish and ErinGreenway. Call them before we have dinner tonight."

Her fears eased, though the danger she sensed circling him didn't relieve her trepidation one hundred percent. "You're assuming I'm having dinner with them."

"Of course."

Flabbergasted by his arrogance, yet more and more curious, she sighed. "Right. If I was some mysterious woman who entered your room at night without knocking first, would you trust me?"

"Depends on her proposal. It's been awhile since a mysterious woman has been in my bedroom. Once you've talked with Erin and Lachlan, you'll trust me. Now is not the time for elaborate explanation, Clarissa. Tonight I'll explain some of it." His fingers slipped over her cheek again, the touch so light and caressing. "Then you'll understand."

Before she could resurrect a protest, his fingers slipped into the back of her hair and he leaned in close. She put her hands out in defense and her palms landed on the hardness of his wide, muscled chest. His strength revived primitive female responses that screamed for fulfillment.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

His mouth almost brushed hers. "Showing you we are meant to taste passion."

Another brush of hot lips made her quiver with delight. Her eyelids fluttered half closed as his lips hovered over hers. "But I think-"

"Don't think," he whispered against her lips, his breath hot and minty. "Feel what we have together."

And his mouth covered hers.

Chapter Four

Clarissa made a muffled protest in the back of her throat as Ronan's mouth molded hers.

At first she couldn't think. Her nipples tightened immediately as arousal smoothed warm and seductive and drifted downward. As his lips shaped hers, desire rose with new flames, taunting her into responding.