And gone.
dc
With the end of the dream, I floated for a moment in the empty nothingness.
Who were the young lovers? What did it all mean?
Suddenly, the young woman stepped out of the fog. She came horrifyingly close, too close. I flinched and tried to turn away. But I couldn’t move. Her eyes were like slate, cold and dead. I smelled decay on her breath. My stomach turned.
“Run! Fast!” she hissed. “Death is upon you.”
Something grabbed my hand and I screamed like bloody murder.
Chapter Eleven
“Erin, you’re safe.” A gorgeous man caressed my hand.
The scream died in my throat. “Santiago,” I gasped, rubbing my eyes with my knuckles, desperately trying to erase the image of her blue lips and dead eyes. “It was a dream.”
“Must have been a bad one. Do you have nightmares often?”
“Only when I close my eyes,” I joked, but I was lying. Lately, I was having them when my eyes were open too.
He gave my arm a little squeeze. “You’re seeing a doctor about this?”
It sounded more like a statement than a question. I paused. Was this the time to tell the man I was falling in love with I was under a psychiatrist’s care and addicted to sleeping pills? Oh, and also seeing dead people?
“Yes,” I admitted. “They can’t do much. Sleeping pills are my best bet.”
He frowned. “I’ll get you an appointment at a sleep clinic in Madrid. Maybe you’re not going deep enough into sleep.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” I worried about getting stuck in one of those dreams and never coming out of it. Can a person die for real in a dream?
He smiled. “I like your robe.”
I sat up, pulling the collar tighter over my breasts. “Think it’s okay? I borrowed it from the closet.”
“Better than okay.” He grinned. “I brought you something.”
“Let me guess, blood sausage?” I crinkled my nose in distaste.
“How’d you guess?” He winked. “Look in the bag.”
“Which one?” Three rainbow-striped plastic bags were lined up by his feet.
“This one first.” His face lit up like a kid on Christmas day.
I pulled out a candy-apple red two-piece bathing suit. “Ah, very pretty.”
“There’s a hot tub outside.”
I turned the pieces over. They were pretty skimpy. “Took quite a risk, didn’t you? You don’t know my size.”
“I asked the salesladies to model them all for me,” he said straight-faced. “To be sure I got it right.”
“What!” I hit him with the pillow. “You did not.”
“No, I didn’t. I admire your body. I knew this was right for you.”
I blushed, probably brighter than the suit. Was Santiago Botello flirting?
“Next bag.”
I reached in and pulled out a hot pink cashmere sweater. “Santiago. This is gorgeous. Ooh, so soft. Thank you.”
“There’s more, keep looking.”
“Where did you find all this stuff?”
“One store in town had everything from clothes to gardening equipment. Next door was the deli.” His chin lifted like Maria’s does when she is proven supremely right about something.
Reaching in the bag, I pulled out a pair of jeans and matching hot pink socks. I was astonished. They were all my size, exactly my taste.
I pressed my hand to my heart. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thought you would appreciate a change of clothes. But, I like this on you too.” He rubbed his hand down the length of my robe sleeve, warming my skin beneath the material.
“Mmmm, feels so good,” I purred. He really was flirting. “It’s getting cold in here.”
“Great.”
“What? You really need to work on those hosting skills.”
“I’ll turn on the hot tub,” he explained, already bounding out of the room.
“Okay, boy scout.” As I put on the swimsuit I thought about my Get a Life Journal. Number 5 was definitely going to be: No more nightmares, only sweet dreams from now on.
When the water was hot, we carried out our snacks of Spanish wine, cheese, crackers and my favorite dried Spanish ham, jamón serrano. I wore my hot new swimsuit and he had on a pair of shorts he’d purchased, just as hot. We both covered up in white robes to block out the nippy air.
Lanterns hanging on wrought iron hooks lit our winding path. In the middle of a patch of dewy lawn, surrounded by a grove of pine trees, sat a dark-bottomed hot tub encircled by a redwood deck. The sharp, angled mountains loomed off in the distance like dark sleeping giants. Overhead the stars twinkled by the trillions.
Santiago stepped into the tub first, offering his hand for me to take while I eased into the hot water. His gaze traveled across my body. The hunger was unmistakable. “Careful, the tub’s deep.”
“You aren’t kidding. Look, I’m standing on the last step and the water is up to here.”
His gaze lingered on where the water lapped at my bikini cups. His hand squeezed mine. “I’ve got you. Come all the way in.”
I floated over next to him, secretly thanking Maria for convincing me to purchase a small bottle of Carolina Herrera perfume. The little dab I’d rubbed behind my ears this morning was becoming revitalized in the steam. The sweet, musky scent with just a hint of pear from my bath wafted up and encircled us.
“Do you want bubbles? I can turn on the jets,” he said.
“Can we keep them off? It’s so nice and quiet. Hey, would you look at all those stars? I sure don’t get a view like this in LA.”
We both looked up. Silence settled over us like a cotton blanket. Everything was still until a screech owl screamed in a nearby branch. The sound reminded me of the ghost in the tower. I shivered in the hot water.
“You have chicken bumps on your skin,” he said.
“Something stepped across my grave, I guess.”
“What?”
“Just an expression.”
“Are you feeling dizzy?” He peered closely into my pupils again as he had in the tower after I’d fainted. I was glad to see he had moved a bit closer. What could I do to convince him to stop being a medical professional and start playing doctor with me?
“No. I was thinking about the ghost in the tower,” I said softly. “Could she have been pushed for some other reason? I mean, other than the ever-popular conspiracy theory?”
“The nursemaid? Possibly.” He frowned. “What made you think about the tower ghost?”
“I had a dream about her. And her lover.”
“You what?” If I had to draw a face of a man perfectly stunned, Santiago would be the model.
I winced. “I know it sounds insane, but it seemed so real. We were—they were dancing at some fancy ball.”
“Oh Erin, the tower spooked you, that’s all.”
I wasn’t about to tell him I’d dreamt about the ghost before I ever set foot in the tower. Some things were better left unsaid.
“I admit I got spooked. But there’s something more.” I took a breath. “I think she was trying to tell me something.”
“You heard the ghost’s voice in your head?” He had his clinical look on, the way, I assumed, doctors stare at the mentally ill.
I rushed on before I lost my nerve. “There was this palpable sense of danger even when she was dancing with the Marques de Moya—”
His hand gripped my arm. “How do you know that name?”
“Heard it.” I scrunched up my face. He was really going to think I was nuts. “In my dream.”
“I read about a man by that name. Beatriz’s son? That Marques?”
“Beatriz? Oh yes.” Hope did a little happy dance in my chest. “She was in charge of preparations for the ball. Some sort of special occasion.” The memory rushed back like flood waters. “I got it. A matrimonial ball. Princess Juana was going to marry the handsome Felipe guy.”
His mouth dropped open
.
“Does any of this make sense to you?” I asked.
“You never knew these names before you dreamt them?”
“Nope.” For the first time in weeks I was thinking I might not be crazy after all.
He ran his fingers through his damp hair. I had never seen anyone pace inside a hot tub before. “Is it possible?”
“What are you thinking?”
“Beatriz, the Marquesa de Moya, was Queen Isabel’s dearest friend and confidant. She advised the queen to give Columbus a shot. Without Beatriz, Columbus would never have discovered America. She was that influential.” His look was piercing. “What did she have to do with the tower ghost?”
“Maybe nothing.” In a flash I could feel the Marques’s hand in mine as we moved slowly to the soft stringing of a lone harpsichord. “But her son sure did.”
“I don’t know what it means, but I’m worried.” He rubbed his cheek. “You didn’t slap me, did you?”
“What? No. You thought I did?” Understanding dawned. “This afternoon.”
“Something did. But I had your arms pinned. It couldn’t have been you.”
“So what are you saying? The tower ghost slapped you and then crawled into my dreams? How is that possible?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, querida. Let’s do some research about this nursemaid. Maybe we can find out something about her in the history books back at the house.” He hugged me. “Are you okay?”
Wrapped in his arms? “Couldn’t be better.”
He moved back. “You look good. I’ve been watching you for signs of…a relapse.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“You seem fine. Your pupils, your breathing, all normal.”
I took his hand and pressed it over the hot red bikini top. “My heartbeat, my breathing, my eyes.” I batted my lashes shamelessly. “Everything to your satisfaction?”
“Um, yes.” His voice cracked, just a little.
I brought his hand up and kissed his palm. “Santiago, there’s something I want to clear up.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
“Earlier, on the couch—”
“I’m an idiot,” he interrupted. “Can we just forget that I pinned a woman who had just been rendered unconscious?”
“Little hard to forget. It makes me wonder if—” I moved closer, “—you’ve ever been pinned by a girl in a hot tub?”
His mouth opened, but the time for talking was over.
Sensuously, slowly I kissed him. The kind of kiss designed to make a grown man weak. My tongue flicked at his lips. His mouth opened enough to let me in. When he sucked gently, I gasped with pleasure.
The air coming off the mountains was cold, but steam floated up from our bodies. We were cocooned in silence, the only beings on the planet. Under the water, his hands ran across my shoulders and down my back. I shuddered from his touch. Our tongues battled to taste more, our hands groping to feel more.
His hands moved up my back and my neck. Lifting my wet hair off my shoulders, his fingers gently twisted the dripping strands into a wild bun. I held on to his waist as the heat rushed through me. He deepened the kiss until I thought we might combust.
I let my hands drop lower until I held the most perfect butt cheeks God has ever made. He made a low, deep sound in his throat. He shifted his weight and I was able to feel the press of another perfect part of his anatomy.
The kiss on the couch had been no Spanish handshake. He wanted me, nearly as badly as I wanted him.
“Ow!” he yelped and pulled away from my lips with a loud smack. “Did you do that?”
“Kiss you?”
He wore the am-I-kissing-a-nutcase? look. “You didn’t pinch my earlobe?”
I laughed. “Um, no. My hands were on your butt. Still are.” I squeezed. “See?”
His eyes widened. “Something is in here. With. Us.”
Chills rolled through me, lifting the hair on my skin. I felt it too. We were not alone.
“Get out,” he yelled, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of the hot tub.
It was too dark to see anything, so we snatched up our things and fast-walked back inside. He pulled the sliding glass door open, made room for me to pass and then lickety-split locked the door behind me. Flipping on all the outside lights he could find, he peered through the window. I hid behind his back and peeked around his arm.
“See anything?” I whispered.
“No. You?”
I let out the breath I was holding. “Did we imagine it?”
He turned to face me, wrapping me up in his strong arms. “I don’t think so. I’m going to make a fire and then we’ll try to figure this thing out.”
I curled up in the robe watching Santiago while he lit the kindling and threw a couple logs into a massive fireplace.
“Now that’s a fire.” I was trying to play it cute and light. Inside my heart had a crack in it, splitting wider by the minute. I was on fire, why wasn’t he stoking me? Our room had a lovely king-sized bed and stargazing ceiling. Why wasn’t he carrying me down the hall? Every time we started to get close, something got between us. I wanted to cry.
He came and sat beside me. “Before we talk about anything else, I need to apologize for…for…”
“Thinking I’m a stark raving lunatic?”
“No.” His gaze dropped. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t blame you if you thought it. A little. Listen, Santiago, I know crazy. My family tree is loaded with nuts, from the odd to the committed.” Not the kind of thing I wanted to reveal so early in our relationship, and yet, there it was. I rushed on. “I don’t think I’ve lost my mind. Something…paranormal is at work here.”
“I know.” He looked at me sheepishly. “How can I make it up to you?” He picked up my legs and draped them over his lap. Then he did something no man has ever done to me.
“Ooooh,” I sighed. Pleasure spread from where his fingers made slow, deep circles. “Keep it up and I will be your slave for life.”
He grinned. “Really? What if I do this?” Those glorious hands kept rubbing deeper and deeper, probing, pressing.
My breathing picked up tempo. I could feel his fingers all over my skin. I rolled my head back onto the couch and closed my eyes. “I’m yours, master. Anything you want.”
“Anything?” His voice was husky. “Just for a little bit of rubbing?”
I opened one eye and peeked at him. “Um-hmm. Rubbing is good.” And I wasn’t joking. Pleasure was fast becoming passion. If he kept going I would scream his name in ecstasy. “Really good.”
“What if I touch you here?” He pressed his thumb against my most sensitive spot and made small delicious circles.
“Oooh, baby. Yes. Oh. My.” A moan I rarely make escaped my lips.
“Harder?”
“Mmmm.”
“Deeper?”
“Ohhh. Yes.”
He laughed. “How about I message the other foot now?”
“Yes, please.” This was a man who really knew how to use his hands.
Squeezing the tips of my toes one by one he said, “What do you think it was? Out there.”
I winced.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No. It’s the answer that bites.”
“The ghost from the tower?”
“Yep. Serena, the nursemaid, has been haunting me for days now. Before I ever set foot in the tower.”
His fingers stopped kneading the arch of my foot.
“What I don’t get is why she pulled your earlobe,” I rushed on before he started thinking I was loony again.
“I have a theory,” he said. “Here, pull your arms out of the robe and press them by your sides so I can tie you up.”
“Sounds a bit kinky.”
His grin was sly. “Just do it.”
“Yes, master.”
He cinched my sleeves tightly across my chest until I was all tied up. “There. Now kiss me.”
I leaned forward and did as I was told. He took hold of my robe’s collar, pulled me closer and kissed the daylights out of me. I never thought I’d enjoy feeling out of control. Dominated. It was a bit kinky, but wow, oh wow.
Just as I started to get into the whole scenario, losing myself completely to him, he made an “oof!” sound and doubled over as though he’d been kneed in the groin.
“Santiago! Are you all right?”
He made some unusual noises, trying to suck air into his lungs. After several moments he finally managed, “Theory proved.”
“I don’t get it.”
He untied my sleeves. “That ghost is trying to protect you. From me.”
“But, why? This man gives the best foot rub in the world,” I yelled. “Leave him alone.”
He didn’t look into my eyes. “Maybe she knows about the darkness.”
A sudden chill assaulted my skin, blowing across my neck, up my damp scalp. I remembered Rosa’s warning—it could take anyone, anytime. “What…is it?”
The intensity glowing in his eyes could have burned my retinas. He gripped my shoulders in his strong hands. “Listen, Erin. There’s something important I have to tell you.”
The feeling of impending doom imbedded a lump in my throat. I gulped past it.
A ring interrupted us. He released me as a look of alarm flashed over his face. “My phone. Where is it?”
“Probably in our—my room. Next to the bags on the dresser.”
“Sorry, I have to take this.” He sprinted down the long hall. “Could be a patient. Dear God, I hope it’s not…” I didn’t catch the end of his statement. He was already gone.
The only sounds I could hear were the raspy, fast breaths coming from my open mouth. Anxiety burned hot in my stomach. No sane person would sit alone in the dark lobby of a vacant hotel on top of a quiet spooky mountain and do what I was about to do. Heck, even truly insane folks might turn and run. Fleeing was the rationale thing to do. The smart thing.
“Where are you?” I said quietly.
The fire threw long creepy shadow fingers up the walls and onto the ceiling. Each crack and pop made me jump. I squinted my eyes, trying to see her. There was no answer. No movement.
Catch Me in Castile Page 13