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Alternating between walking the main floor of the cabin and climbing the stairs to check on Olan, she found herself exhausted. A beautiful day had dawned, but wariness kept her inside. Now, as darkness approached, every sound in and around the cabin had her jumping in fright.How long would it be before Niko found his way back? What was keeping him? The questions grew louder in her brain until she wanted to scream.She had no idea when it was that she had dozed off, or what it was that woke her, but she found herself sitting bolt upright on the sofa with a long, slow chill running the length of her spine. She sat for a moment, scarcely daring to breathe in the darkened cabin, listening. Camille was just about to berate herself for being afraid of the boogeyman, when she heard a car door slam.Clamping her teeth down on her bottom lip to keep from screaming, she scampered to the kitchen in search of the gun Niko had insisted she keep. Just as her fingers closed around the grip, she heard. It was low, throaty sound, that sounded like it was two thirds a choke and one third a growl. She froze. There was something in her room. She heard the sound of hooves. And then a bristly mouth was thrust into hers. That something was kissing her. She was alarmed and tried to push it back. In her alarm, her right arm fumbled for something to use as a weapon, and hit the lamp switch. The lamp came on, and her eyes widened in shock. It was him. He was no longer bound by the painting. His bronzed face and his luxuriant beard were right in her face. She didn’t have the recourse to look at the rest of him, since he was right there in her face, demanding her lips and attention. She looked in his eyes, and felt a wave of lust swamp her. They were hypnotic and blacker than coals. When the kiss ended a minute later, she was in three minds. One mind wanted her to call for help. One mind wanted someone to pinch her so she could wake up and go on with normal living. The third part, which was.
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