She nodded. “He was murdered here.”
“Right again. Does anything about this place seem…familiar?”
Olivia felt the chill. Not from the AC, either. This chill had come from inside her, and she had another look around. Not only at the room but at Lucian himself. Everything did feel familiar. Including the sickening feeling of dread that churned in the pit of her stomach.
There hadn’t been photos of the room on the internet, but had she seen this place in her dreams, too?
“You know Damien,” he said.
“No. He died when I was a baby,” she insisted. “I couldn’t have known him, and before today, I’ve never been to this building. What’s this all about? And why did I let you touch me? With all the self-defense classes I’ve taken, you should be in pain right now.”
The corner of his mouth lifted just a fraction, but she got a smidge of that slow, killer smile before it vanished. It happened at the exact moment he put another photo on the screen.
Yet someone else she recognized. And someone else from her dreams.
“Marissa Langford,” he said. “She and Damien were murdered at the same time.”
Yet something else Olivia already knew, but again, the internet was short of photos. This shot of Marissa was pleasant enough. The camera loved her, the lens gobbling up all that tumbling blonde hair and those luscious curves. She’d been a pampered rich girl. Worlds removed from Olivia’s own, yet there was something about Marissa that felt familiar, too.
“I had an experience when I bought this place,” Lucian said, drawing her attention back to him. Not that her attention had strayed too far. Lucian had a way of monopolizing the room.
And the air.
The next photo popped on the screen. One she definitely hadn’t seen on the internet. It, too, was Damien and Marissa. Naked. Marissa was straddling him, Damien’s erection buried deep inside her. His hands were clamped on her fleshy hips, her ample breasts dangling inches from his open mouth.
Since Marissa was smiling for the camera, Olivia guessed this was some kind of personal porn that they’d taken of themselves. But it was affecting her, too.
Mercy, was it.
She could almost feel Damien’s hands on her. Could almost feel him hard inside her. The way his eager tongue would slide over her breasts. She could even feel the orgasm rippling through her. Olivia dragged in a long breath, hoping it would help. It didn’t. “Why are you showing me this?”
His gaze came back to hers. “Because that’s us. That photo was taken in this very room.”
Lucian paused, pointed to a spot on the floor a few yards away from his desk. “And that’s where we were murdered.”
Chapter Two
“I can’t do this,” Olivia said, her voice filled with the same panic that Lucian saw in her eyes.
She snatched her purse off the floor and bolted for the door. Something that Lucian had predicted she would do. What he hadn’t predicted was she could move damn fast in that slim skirt and heels. She was already in the hall before he pulled her back into the office.
“I can’t do this,” she repeated, the sob tearing its way through her throat.
Yes, he got that, but neither of them exactly had a choice here.
“It’s not us,” Olivia insisted. “We weren’t murdered.” She looked up at him, tears shimmering in her ice-blue eyes and her bottom lip quivering.
He felt every bit of what she was feeling and then some.
Because Lucian knew a lot more than he’d told her. Enough to generate a mountain of fear, and he wasn’t a man who scared easily. Hell, before this, he’d never been scared in his entire life. But he was now. Not for himself.
But for her.
“It happened.” No way to soften the blow on that. He pointed toward the picture on the laptop. “But that happened, too. They were lovers.”
Lucian had to shake his head. It was a lot more than just that. Damien and Marissa had been obsessed with each other.
Best to save that detail for later.
Other details, too.
“Why do you possibly think we’re them?” she asked. There was more grit in her voice now. She’d blinked back the tears and was no doubt ready to run off again.
Especially after the explanation he was about to give her.
It would require a giant leap of faith on her part. Not good, because Olivia wasn’t big on faith and trust.
His hard-on sure hadn’t help things, either, and it wasn’t helping him now. And it would slow him down considerably if he had to go chasing after her again.
She was a runner all right. Or at least she had been since the attack. Before that, Olivia had been a runner of a different kind, on the fast track to law partnership and a very cushy income.
And she’d been a blonde. Like Marissa.
These days, Olivia’s hair was brown and pulled into a ponytail. Ordinary on any other woman, but in his eyes, Olivia and ordinary didn’t go together.
In fact, nothing in his life right now fell into the ordinary category.
“You’re not talking,” Olivia reminded him. “You’re not telling me why you think we’re them.”
Yes. But the problem was where to start. Lucian decided to go with the beginning. Well, the beginning of this part anyway.
“The strange experiences started when I drove by this building looking for investment property,” he said, maneuvering himself between the door and her. “Despite the rundown neighborhood, I was drawn to it.”
That was a little like saying the ocean had some drops of water in it.
The building had sucked him right in, and even though he wasn’t into other worldly beliefs, Lucian had instantly bought the place with a phone call. And he’d paid too much for it. Something that still pissed him off. He hadn’t built his fortune by overpaying for anything, including instant obsessions.
“About six months before his death, Damien bought this house to convert it to office space for one of his new business ventures. He met Marissa about three months later. I kept this room, his room, exactly as I found it. Same desk, same bookcases.”
Lucian pointed to the dark wood floor-to-ceiling shelves that flanked both sides of the room. Like the desk, they were carved with coiled snake-like shapes and deep recesses. Everything felt heavy.
Smelled it, too.
There were times, like now, when it felt as if the room were breathing, drawing him in.
Devouring him.
“Shortly after I moved my office here, the images started,” Lucian continued. “Nothing clear at first. Just glimpses of a man and woman.”
“A hand on his chest,” she mumbled.
His gaze slashed to hers. “A hand on her breasts,” he supplied. “The images turned to dreams.”
“Dreams,” she repeated, pointing to the screen. She probably hadn’t meant to touch the exact spot where Marissa was riding Damien hard, and Olivia jerked her hand back. “About them?”
“Yes, among other things.” And he gently put her hand back to the spot she’d just touched. “The dreams got clearer, and I did some research on the internet. It didn’t