She settled over him slowly. It was torture. She was so hot, so wet, so tight he had to push his way into her velvet folds. A growl escaped him, a throaty note of pleasure/pain he couldn't stifle. Her muscles, still rippling from her orgasm, gripped and milked him as she began to move.

"Let them come, Ryland," she whispered wickedly, her blue eyes staring straight into his. "I don't care if they find us locked together. Do you know what it feels like to have you so deep inside me?"

Her words nearly shattered him. He knew what it was like to fill her, to stretch her. He knew what it was like to have her ride him, slick with hot heat, and he knew what it was like to thrust almost helplessly, violently into her, spearing her deeply. Over and over, hard and fast, uncaring that they might be locked forever in this dream. Nothing mattered at that moment except the sheer indulgence of each other's hunger.

The roaring started in his head. The fire flamed in his belly. Her muscles spiraled around him, her sheath so tight she milked him into an explosion so intense he couldn't muffle the yell torn from his throat. For a moment colors seemed to burst around him. He clung to her, breathing deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control. They clung together tightly, holding each other while their hearts tried to slow down, while their lungs tried to find air.

The low murmur of voices drifted to them. Late-night visitors to the museum. Intruders into their dreamworld. Lily reluctantly slipped off of him, felt his seed trickle down the inside of her thigh. How had visitors managed to invade their dream? She looked around, saw the sudden flashing light of the alarms. Blazing lights spilling around them, pointing an accusing finger at them. Two freaks of nature who no longer belonged in the world with others.

Ryland wanted to cling to her, hold her to him, sensing her grief rising as she began to slip away from him. His mouth was hard on hers, demanding. His hands moved over her body with loving caresses, with greedy eagerness, with trembling need. At the melding of their mouths, fireworks erupted around them, orange and red and white.

Lily could feel his muscles beneath her fingers, hear his heart slamming hard against her breast. The fireworks burst once more around her, into her, flashing red and white. The light was distracting, pulling her away from her erotic world of lovers and comfort and back to reality where the sand had shifted out from under her feet for all time. No matter how hard she clung to her dream, the light buzzed a warning insistently in her head, determinedly pulling her out of Ryland's arms and into the cold reality of the dormitory.

Lily looked around, slightly disoriented, with unfocused sight, blinking repeatedly to clear her vision. Red light was strobing into the room. Bursts of it coming and going as if shouting an alarm. She pushed herself up off the bed, shocked that her body was throbbing and burning, fully aroused, craving Ryland's possession. She did crave him, needed him. There was no point in lying to herself, but the intensity was shattering. She had felt his touch on her bare skin, felt his hand on her body, caressing her. She heard his soft cry of protest fading as she stumbled away from the bed. Away from the dream.

The red light was hurting her eyes and pushing needles into the walls of her mind. Bold red stripes of pain like the lash of a whip. She pushed into the outer room and hurried to find the controls for the cameras she knew would have been installed. Pressing a button instantly turned on the screen over her head. She saw her father's darkened office, saw the door was ajar despite the fact that she'd locked it. A shadowy figure moved through the room, opened and rifled through drawers at her father's desk.

The intruder was dressed in black and wore a mask over his face, hiding everything but his eyes which she couldn't see clearly in the darkness. Her heart in her throat, she watched as he examined the grandfather clock, then turned away from it to run his penlight over the titles of the books on the shelves. She watched the way he moved, no wasted motion, clearly a professional. He had entirely ignored the computer, as if he knew already it was useless to him. He completely ignored her father's day planner, still sitting neatly beside the computer.

He pulled a few books at random, rifling through the pages, then neatly returning each to the exact spot where he had pulled it. It made no sense to her that he would go through her father's office without really searching. What was he doing?

The intruder glanced at his watch and left the room, looking back once to make certain everything was in place. He closed the door softly and the empty room was all that was on the screen.

Lily felt her wrist, realized her communicator, the one Arly insisted she wear for emergencies, was on the nightstand by her bed where she'd dropped it in utter annoyance. For obvious reasons, there was no phone in her father's hidden laboratory so she hurried back up the stairs, wound the hand of the clock etched into the ceiling around nine times, leaving it pointing toward the Roman numeral IX and watched the trapdoor swing open.

The intruder had to have planted surveillance equipment and she had to find it before he got it online. She would need entry to the lab to study the documents. She couldn't have anyone looking over her shoulder all the time. Picking up the phone, she stabbed the button to ring Arly's room.

"I'm already on it, sweetie pie. He triggered a silent alarm when he went through the door of your father's office," Arly said without preamble. "Stay in your room while we round him up."

"I'm in my father's office and he's planted little bugs everywhere. So much for your extra men, Arly," Lily pointed out.

"Don't you move, Lily," he snapped, fear for her creeping into his voice. "Why the hell aren't you hiding under your bed like a normal woman would be?"

"Ask yourself how he got in when you have this place locked down, you chauvinistic smart aleck. And how did he manage to get through my father's locked office door? He would need prints, Arly. My father's prints. He got through three security systems and didn't know about the safeguard, but he knew about the others."

"You listen to me, Lily, lock that door and don't open it for anyone but me. I'll come for you when I know you're safe."

"I'm not exactly worried, Arly. You and Dad made certain I could protect myself. They may have gotten my father, but they won't find me such an easy target."

Arly swore at her before slamming down the phone. Lily didn't care. He was the security expert. He had access to enough money to install all the latest toys to stay ahead of everyone else, but still, someone had gained entrance to the house and had bypassed the security to the office she had activated when she'd locked the door.

She was shaking with fury. She absolutely refused to be intimidated by an intruder to her home. She would not let them shake her up or hide under her bed. She didn't know who was the enemy or who was a friend, but she was going to find out and make her home safe again.

Lily began searching for the bugs she knew the intruder had dropped casually in her father's office. The drawers, the coffee table. She retraced his steps, finding the books easily. Her brain had recorded the pattern, random to him, but seen as a precise configuration to her. There was an order to randomness she could see clearly where others could not. She destroyed every bug as she found it. Arly could make a sweep of the room later, but she was certain she had found all of them.

She wanted the intruder caught and questioned. She wanted the name of the traitor in her home. She wanted the name of the conspirators in the Donovans Corporation and the military. Lily's soft mouth firmed and she lined the remains of the expensive surveillance bugs across her father's desk.