“Not in the least. She is bitter and eaten up with pain from rheumatism. I would wager that DeLille loves her deeply and has developed this plot to try to gain the means to relieve her pain.”
“That’s admirable, but murder?” Her slender shoulders shook, drawing attention to her tempting bare curves.
“Love is powerful. Just look at my mother, who loved my father beyond words, although he never returned her affection.” With each moment Luc understood better how his mother had become entangled. Love was a demanding taskmaster.
“I’ll believe you, not because I understand,” Grace said. “But because I know you have never lied to me. If you say a man’s love for his wife could drive him to murder, it must be true. Still, I have to wonder if I am in as great a danger as you think.” She bit her lower lip.
“Why do you doubt it?”
“You learned all this last night, yet you stopped to take a nap before telling me.” She arched a delicate eyebrow.
He laughed, and reached for her, unable to tolerate a longer separation. “I deserve that. I would not have been able to tell you, had I not napped, as you describe it.”
“As I said earlier, you were sound asleep when I arrived,” Grace insisted.
“I did tell you that DeLille’s order to delay made me believe you safe for a time.” He rubbed circles on one of her arms with his palm.
“Yes. That’s why you decided to rest. You did not decide to sleep.” She lifted her head to press a kiss along his jaw.
“I cannot explain that. Over the past nine decades existing in the spirit world, I was like a spirit. They don’t sleep, nor did I.” Luc shrugged.
“You have no clue why you slept today?” Another kiss pressed closer to his mouth.
Should he let himself give in to her sweet distraction.
“I can only guess that something about my curse is changing. Although I cannot imagine what.”
“Tell me more about the curse and how it affects you,” she said. Instead of another kiss, she stroked the hand that held her waist.
Too bad he thought, at the same time he knew one of them had to be sensible.
“You are certain I cannot persuade you to leaveSweet Dreamsfor your own safety?” He made one last attempt to change her mind.
Grace nodded. “Beyond certain. Now, please, tell me about your curse.”
“I have powers, like any other specter or phantom.”
“Such as?” Curiosity radiated from her, and even the tilt of her head signaled questions. Luc smiled. “I can move things, including myself, simply by thinking about it—like the night I took you home after our first kiss.”
She soothed her cheek against his chest. “That was a wonderful kiss. What else?”
“There seems to be no limit as to weight or size of the objects I can levitate. I can, with some effort, know what someone else is feeling, thinking, or dreaming. I can create illusions, but only if a person does not already believe in what they are seeing. My sense of smell and hearing are heightened, and I seem to have acquired a personal scent.” He ticked items off on his fingers as he spoke.
“Cinnamon and spent black powder,” she blurted.
He straightened, holding her away from him to see her face. “How did you know that?”
“It isn’t an ordinary scent, and I’ve encountered it frequently since the day I arrived atSweet Dreams. I was mystified as to the source, until now.”
“I’m delighted I could clear that up for you.” He smirked and dropped his arms.
Her expression shifted from pensive to frowning when the silence stretched into a few minutes. “That’s it? That’s everything?”
“No.” Luc had never told anyone else, although legend had claimed it to be true. DeLille must believe the legend, and given the danger the man represented, Grace should know. “I am attached.”
“Attached?” She tucked her chin.
He nodded. “To theOnly Loveand the gris-gris Mawu used when she made her curse.”
