"I-Will-Not-Think-Of-Him!" Mackenzie's fist punched out each word against the pillows. Blowing up at the hair in front of her eyes, she crawled around the bed tugging at the tangled sheets. "Grown women don't need fantasy lovers, Mac. Grow up!" Falling back into the pillows, she yanked the satin quilt up to her chin.

Sleep, instant sleep, no thoughts, only dreamless sleep. Tossing one way and then the next, she moaned over effort it took to relax. She heard the tiny gears in the clock turning as another number flipped. "This is useless," she exclaimed, irritation filled her voice.

Mackenzie reached for the phone, but hesitated before dialing Gloria's number. "That's right, Mac, call her and ruin all your progress today. You never should have asked her about the dreams." After suffering Gloria's prying questions all afternoon, Mackenzie figured it would take some major convincing to get her friend calmed down. One swift kick sent the covers off the bed. She slipped on the matching satin robe to her nightgown and let the soft material fold about her waist. Each determined step sent the satin swirling up and around her legs.

Jerking open the bedroom door, she headed for the kitchen. Absently rubbing the robe's sleeves, Mac never realized she held her breath until she flipped on the light above the stove. In a scolding whisper she said, "Tea, cinnamon rose--that should do the trick." The flame shot up under the kettle before she adjusted the knob and moved knowingly about the kitchen, gathering a cup from the cupboard.

"Stop woman! Stop this endless calling!" The deep, decidedly male voice filled the silence in the apartment, paralyzing her into stunned stillness.

Startled by the kettle's piercing whistle, Mac watched helplessly as the cup slip from her fingers and shatter in the sink. Spinning around she fumbled with the controls on the front of the stove until she killed the flame. Mac wrapped her shaking hands about her waist and took deep breaths, forcing herself to concentrate on the hissing stream of vapor.

"Let me go woman! Stop your witching ways. End this spell you hold me in!" Malice governed the familiar voice that had no right to sound so commanding, so alive.

"No-o-o..." The denial tore through her clenched teeth. She refused to turn toward the low, furious voice. "I won't see you!" Covering her eyes with her sweaty palms, she felt desperate, "This isn't happening. You aren't real! Go away!"

"Release me and I will gladly leave you!"

The threat in the man's seething response nearly made her cry out. This can't be real, he was only a dream. "I'm not dreaming now, am I?" She brought her hands away from her eyes and gripped the counter for support. Mac's frantic whispers swirled through the rising steam, "He's not here ... this isn't real. I'm not even in bed, so I can't be sleeping!" To prove her own feeble belief, Mackenzie gingerly reached out to touch the kettle, quickly pulling her fingers back from the heat. "There, see, I am not sleeping. You can't feel pain when you sleep." Slowly releasing her breath she said, "He's not real, Mac."

"Mac? Tell him to show himself, for I am as real as you are witch. I will be glad to prove it to Mac if he be your protector! Turn around and face me, if you dare!"

Aaron's annoyance and anger rose in equal degrees as he asked himself again, what manner of woman was this? She was here, the one ruling his mind every waking moment ... and the nights; never did he escape her alluring shadow. God, what did I do to deserve this punishment? Maybe it was not God's work, for surely she was some kind of witch. He never believed in witches and hexes, but nothing else made sense for the strange happenings in his life.

Aaron failed to find any sign of her protector and kept his eyes fixed on the vision before him, knowing he would use physical force to stop her should she try to escape his presence. He wished she would turn to face him, allow him to confirm the image embedded in his mind. His haunting, blue-eyed enchantress could only be the beauty before him. He knew every delicate, enticing curve of that womanly body silhouetted against the soft, hugging gown where those golden curls ended. Soft as spun honey, the golden wisps floated on an invisible breeze, kissing her lovely ... "Enticing sorceress!"

Clenching his hands until the knuckles turned white, he resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her. Aaron wanted, beyond reason, to hold the celestial vision that came to him so lovingly, seeking his warmth. Her enchanting curves brandished promises of passion born of innocence. He would wake, his body soaked with sweat, his cock steeled with his need to possess her. Every night the callings grew stronger, more ardent, filling his hours with pure, sweet torture; always she remained elusive, just beyond his grasp. So aggressive was her magic she began to come to him at all hours, haunting the daylight, casting her shadow about him until he thought he would go insane; demented, because he alone could see her haunting image. Aaron grew obsessed with the burning desire to experience and possess the libertine vision, regardless of the consequence. An act he suspected he would burn in hell over, for only a witch could be doing this to him.

Aaron Masters was not a man to be trifled with. He fought her insistent pleas to come to her and the battle grew fierce. The internal battle of wills raged inside him. Tonight he vowed to destroy the hold she could wield over him. Dropping his barriers, he listened to her soft beguiling pleas, letting them grow stronger and stronger, until their intensity hauled him through the darkness.

She stood with him now, no longer an unreachable illusion, but a woman quivering from the same force that brought them together. As easy as reaching out and capturing her appeared, Aaron refused to let her control him. He wanted answers from her, but seeing her, being so close, almost proved to be more temptation than he could withstand.

"Woman, I said turn and face me. I have answered your summons. Now you will answer mine."

The air surrounding Mackenzie virtually danced with electricity. Taking a deep breath she reassured herself that this was only a dream ... that is all this could be, a dream; her fantasy was now a nightmare. By facing her imaginary man he would vanish, he must. As she turned, Mac braced herself, hoping that the vision she conjured up would be there, terrified of what might be in its place.

Sucking in her breath, she faced the image.

"Oh stars..." he was everything she fantasized and her eyes feasted on her creation, all imaginary six-foot plus of it. Tempting waves of thick black hair were pulled back to the nape of his neck, tied there by a silk bow. Had she created a new fashion statement with her vision? The modest ponytail, if loose would join the locks about his strong face, framing it quite handsomely.

Captured and stunned by what her imagination assembled, her fear shimmered away, dissolving into the darkness surrounding them. She took her first step toward him, her vision. Mac decided she would enjoy this night, knowing that like her dreams he would fade in the morning light.

Smiling into his dark, formidable eyes she whispered, "This is my dream, I would like it down." Reaching up, she loosened the bow, letting it slip from the rich thickness. Fascinated with her creation, she fanned the satin waves about his firm jaw and sculptured neck until the locks rested on his broad shoulders.

Mac's eyes glowed over the new effect. "There, not as harsh." Her gaze drank him in. "Very nice, gentler..."

She stepped in front of him to take in every compelling feature of his proud face, reinforcing the memory of her creation. "So handsome ... manly. Yes, very much a man." He was only an apparition and the unexpected freedom she felt surged through her, pushing forward her desire to experience more of him. "It's amazing."

Aaron's dark, hostile gaze snapped with hostility as it followed the strange actions of the resplendent beauty. She stood so close to him that he could smell her sexual sweetness. Allowing himself, Aaron inhaled, filling his senses with her lusty essence until he felt dizzy from the imprisoning enchantment. His every muscle cried out to take her, crush her seductive spice of feminine warmth to his fierce cock and taste the luscious temptation lingering so near. Her actions beguiled and fascinated him. He would let her take her liberties a little further and then he would exert his own.

Mac stared into his eyes, eyes so black they could reflect the stars, held her, making her breath catch in a whisper. "For a dream, you certainly are intense."

She raised her hand to his face, wanting to soften the hardness glaring down at her. The contrast between their colorings fascinated Mac. His skin was tan and aggressive against her ivory softness. In a whisper touch she stroked his cheek; she tipped her head to the side, surprised when her hand didn't go through the image. "Are dreams this solid?" she wondered aloud.

Her fingers touched the smooth, strong plane of his brow before slowly lowering her exploration. She caressed every firm, vital inch of his face, as if by touching, the dream would stay forever. She couldn't resist the temptation to trace the full lines of his lips. The bottom lip was fuller and the knowledge sent thrilling promises through her sensitive fingertips. The shocking sensations made her pull away. Stepping back a little, she took in the full height and the width of his chest and shoulders. "So much bigger than my dream, I like it."

Afraid that she would destroy the image, she held back from releasing the thin cord holding the deep vee of his billowy shirt together. Mac could see the rich exotic tan beneath the material. Spellbound, her heated gaze swept over his chest to the firm lines of his hips, down the powerful stance of muscled legs covered by tight fitting, black pants. The breath caught in her throat as she took in the huge bulge at the juncture of his legs. Mac felt naughty and daring over what she wanted to do. He was beautiful, breathtaking, everything she imagined and more. She stopped to study the soft, black leather boots that came up to hug his calves before flowing into wide cuffs at the knees. "Hmm, they are so sexy."

The temptation proved too powerful and she let it pull her to him. Her palms went flat against his chest and began their slow, stimulating exploration. Beneath the fine linen she felt the harden nubs of his nibbles. Mac did the unthinkable and lowered her lips to one; her teeth teased the small rock solid nub. She felt the powerful muscles against her lips flex and grow tight, and the sensation shimmered through her, causing her own vagina to contract in sensual awareness releasing a wave of warm wet sexual heat. The excitement drove her on as her hands roamed the firm wall of his chest and she became unmerciful and teased his sensitive nipples through the thin material. The taste of salt became an aphrodisiac that lingered on her tongue as she slowly licked the taunt material over his breast ... and Mac wanted more.

For a sane second she wondered if he felt her touch and what he might do if he could respond, but then she wouldn't be doing this if he were real. "Such a wonderful, hot dream."