"I feel—I don't know—better, more relaxed," she declared over dinner one night. "Even the people at work have commented about it."
"I do want you to see someone, Amelia," he said firmly. "You might be sleeping better, but I still have one eye open. What if some chap takes your fancy in the line at Starbucks? You might wander off in the middle of the night to find him."
"James, I would never do that, but I will find a doctor I'm comfortable with. I promise."
He was confident she'd get the help she needed, and they'd continue their lives together in the Big Apple, but the following day she called shortly after they'd both arrived at work. The moment he picked up the phone, he knew something was wrong.
"Can we meet at Luigi's for lunch?" she asked earnestly. "I really need to see you."
"I wish I could. I have a business meeting."
"It's terribly important."
He paused, but only for a moment.
"Yes, sure. I'll see you there at noon."
For the remainder of the morning he was worried, and at the appointed time he hurried to meet her. Pushing through the door of their favorite Italian eatery, he spotted her at their usual table. She was playing with her napkin. That was a bad sign. His pulse ticked up. Striding briskly forward he kissed her on the cheek.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he sat down.
"I don't know an easy way to say this."
"Then just say it."
"I've been offered an unbelievable job back in London."
Her words echoed through his head.
I've been offered an unbelievable job back in London.
"James? Did you hear me?"
"You have a job offer, yes, I heard you."
"It's an absolutely incredible opportunity."
"Excellent, well, yes, brilliant. Good for you," he managed, immediately hating how he'd sounded. It had been patently false. There was no pretense between them, and he'd just thrown her a load of crap.
"You're happy about it?"
"I'm happy for you that you got such a great offer," he replied, wondering what was wrong with him, and why he couldn't say what he was really feeling.
"Oh."
The pain and disappointment were clear in her eyes, and he had absolutely no idea what to say or do. He hated the thought of her leaving, they were great together, really great, but he needed to support her…didn't he?
"Amelia," he said hastily, "if this job is something you want, then—wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Is it? Is it a job you really want? Tell me about it."
She did, in painstaking, fabulous detail. She'd been right when she'd said it was unbelievable, but she was an unbelievable woman. The offer was warranted, and it was a remarkable, once-in-a-lifetime, pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
"So, what do you think?"
"It doesn't matter what I think, it's what you think."
"Geoff said I'd be crazy to turn it down."
Geoffrey Archer was the man who had brought her over from England. James had to fight the desire to march over to Geoff's office and demand he make her an even better offer to keep her in New York. But it wasn't just the money involved. The company in London would expose her to the highest ranks of the British business elite.
"Amelia, forget about Geoff, forget about what anyone else thinks. How do you feel about it?"
A lone tear suddenly appeared and began to trickle down her face. She didn't want to leave him, as much as he didn't want her to go.
"Amelia, take a breath. If you decide to accept, the job will bring you back here from time to time, and I can certainly fly home to see you."
His words had sounded trite. He knew it, she knew it, and he hated that he'd said them.
"Sorry. That didn't come out the way I wanted it to," he said with a heavy sigh. "The truth is, I honestly don't know how to advise you. No-one can make this decision for you."
"I know."
It was obvious she'd barely managed to get the words out, and as he watched her reach for her water glass, he had no doubt it was an attempt to extinguish the flames in the back of her throat.
"When do you have to let them know?"
"They've given me seven days."
"That's good. You'll have time to think this through."
The water hadn't worked. More tears materialized, and her fingers curled into fists.
"I hate this," she whispered. "I hate this. I hate this."
His heart was breaking for her, for himself, for the two of them, and he wrapped his hands over her white knuckles.
"How about we both call in with some really stupid excuse and take the afternoon off? We can go to a movie or something."
"Yes, yes, let's take the afternoon off, and please, I want the something. I want to stop time. Will you take me home and stop time?"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Amelia suggested a bubble bath, and as James languidly roamed his hands over her slippery breasts, she moaned softly and wrapped her fingers around his stiffening cock. Closing his eyes, he leaned back, surrendering to her artful stroking. She'd said she wanted him to stop time, and letting his mind wander, he began imagining wickedly wonderful ways to grant her wish.
"No more," he finally murmured. "I need to get out of this tub. I have plans for you."
"Should I be worried?"
"Very, but you need to stay in here until I call for you."
"Whatever it is, please hurry. I'll be dying in here."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said with a wink. "I'd prefer not to have a corpse in my bathtub."
He climbed out, dried off, and donned his robe, then ambled into the bedroom and closed the drapes. Moving through the house collected every candle he could find, and after strategically placing them around the bedroom, he headed back to the kitchen. Opening a bottle of cabernet, he grabbed two glasses, and a cake of rich dark chocolate.
As the afternoon unfolded, he kept his promise. The clocks stopped.
She met his flogger, and after each lash she thrust back for the next. Her pussy was dripping when he was done, and he vigorously fucked her, taking them both to the brink countless times before withdrawing to tie her up and tickle her with an ostrich feather. Aching for release, he laid his weight on her, melting into her body, remaining there quiet and still with no sense of time. When he finally slid off, he placed a soft foam blindfold across her eyes, fed her the luscious chocolate from his mouth, then brought the wine glass to her lips and carefully poured the rich ruby liquid onto her tongue. Following the delicious interval, he dove between her legs, lapping her pussy until she was begging to come, then moving to a chair he ordered her on her knees to worship his cock.
Throughout the day and into the early evening, whispered words and pleasure and pain were given and received, until finally, after explosive orgasms they thought would never end, they fell asleep totally and utterly drained.
In the early hours of the morning they stirred, and feeling ridiculously hungry, they padded into the kitchen for a snack. As they sat next to each other at the kitchen island devouring chicken soup and toast, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Wherever I go in this world, whatever happens to me, this day will be with me forever."
"Me, too."
He had mumbled his reply, surprised with the depth of emotion swirling through his being. Once again she proved to be the brave one, murmuring the terrifying and beautiful words.
"I love you, James."
Laying down his spoon, he turned to face her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were soft, softer than he'd ever seen them. With his throat constricting to the point he wasn't sure if he'd be able to speak, he placed his hands on either side of her face.
"I love you too, Amelia. I do, very much."
"This isn't fair. Why did I have to get this offer now?"
"No, it's not fair, but you can't make a mistake," he said, not sure if he really believed what he'd just said.
"What do you mean?"
&nb
sp; "Your choice will be the right one."
"How can you possibly know that?"
"Because you already know what it is. You just haven't tuned into it yet, but you will."
"That feels true," she said softly. "Thank you. I think I'll be able to sleep now."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The following days, though James was consumed with thoughts of Amelia leaving, he was also experiencing an unfamiliar euphoria. Very little bothered him, not even the drawn-out meetings he usually found maddening. They spent every night together, but when Sunday rolled around she wanted to be alone at her hotel. He understood she needed some space. It was time for her to decide, and though he wanted to beg her to stay, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
It was a cold and blustery night with a hint of snow in the air, and he decided to order a pizza. In front of the fire watching a thriller on television, drinking red wine and eating the cheesy gooey mess, he was missing her like crazy. Finally wandering into his bedroom, he crawled between the sheets. The bed felt empty without her, but finally the wine kicked in and sent him into a doze. When he heard the buzzer, he was sure it was the beginning of a wonderful dream. Amelia had arrived, and he was going to share the night with her after all. When it buzzed a second time, he realized it was no dream, and glancing at the clock he read 1:33 a.m. Staggering from his bed, he stumbled down the hall and pressed the button.
"Amelia?"
"You were expecting someone else?"
As he waited for her to arrive, he began to feel the cold. The fire was long dead, and he hadn't put the heat on. Unlocking the door so she could let herself in, he hurried back to the bedroom to put on his bathrobe, and when he returned, she was walking through the door.
"Hey, you," he said softly, assuming she was in her strange sleep-state and not wanting to disrupt her. "Why are you here? Did you miss me? I missed you like crazy."
"I've made the decision," she declared, in the dreamy voice she often had in the middle of the night.
"You can tell me about it under the covers."
She took his hand as they walked down the hallway, and once in the bedroom, to his delighted surprise, she unbuttoned her coat to reveal her naked body beneath. But she was wearing the insanely sexy black leather boots she'd been wearing the first night she'd buzzed him awake.
"Get into bed. You'll catch your death."
"Yes, Sir."
"You don't have to call me Sir, but you do have to join me."
"Thank you, James," she murmured, unzipping the boots and crawling in next to him.
"Is the car still downstairs waiting for you?"
"No. I knew I'd be staying, so I let it go. May I tell you my decision now?"
"Of course," he replied, feeling his pulse tick up, not sure he was ready to hear it.
"I'm not going anywhere. I've been waiting for you my whole life. Geoff says I'd be crazy to turn down the offer, but I think I'd be crazy to walk away from you."
"Are you absolutely sure about this?"
"Yes, James, I'm very sure, one-hundred percent sure."
Suddenly he was wrapping her up in his arms and holding her as if his life depended on it, but as she sank into his arms, he heard a long, weary sigh.
"I know you showed up in that coat and boots to surprise me, but do you want to just go to sleep?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time, but yes, I'm totally wiped out."
"It was a good idea, and it still is. In fact, it was absolutely perfect, though I have to admit I'm knackered too."
"Goodnight, James."
"Goodnight, Amelia. You've made me very, very happy."
But as they settled in to go to sleep, an uncomfortable thought floated into his head.
Was she sleepwalking? He couldn't be sure. If she was, would she remember her decision in her waking state? Obviously her heart knew what it wanted, but in the clear light of day would her head agree?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
In spite of Amelia's wonderful news, James had tossed and turned through the night. She'd seemed completely lucid, but the nagging worry she may have been sleepwalking refused to let him out of its grip.
"Morning," she purred, pressing her delectable breasts against his back. "Did you sleep well?"
"Sorta kinda. How about you?"
"Great," she said with a happy sigh, then raising herself up she peered past his shoulder at the clock. "Good grief, is that the time? I have to go. I have a breakfast meeting."
"Cancel it," he said earnestly. "I need to jump your beautiful bones."
"Oh, James, I wish I could. Sorry."
Kissing him quickly, she jumped out of bed and sprinted to the bathroom. Her buoyant mood convinced him all was well, and stretching languidly, he climbed from the sheets, only to find it surprisingly chilly. Quickly donning his robe, he turned on the heat and headed to the kitchen. As he spooned the loose leaves into the teapot, he decided to call a car company. It was a chilly day, dark clouds were threatening, and he didn't want Amelia hunting for a cab. As he puttered in the kitchen he found himself smiling, and when she came in looking sexy as hell in one of her elegant power suits, he couldn't help but swallow her up in a bear hug.
"What was that for?"
"Just because."
"Is that toast I smell?"
"It is, madam, and the jug's boiled and a car is on its way."
"James! Thank you."
"There's nothing like a cuppa to start your day."
"I couldn't agree more." Pausing she tilted her head to the side and smiled up at him. "James, did you know that being weak with you helps me be tough out there?"
"Of course, and I'm glad to be of service. I'm going to take my shower. If you're gone when I get back, I'll call you later."
Giving her a warm, loving kiss, he headed to the bathroom. He'd wanted to talk about her late-night visit, but as the hot water streamed over his body he told himself there was nothing to discuss. As he'd expected, she was gone when he returned to the kitchen, but she had left a piece of toast, and the strawberry jam had been spread in the shape of a heart.
When he arrived at the office, he was deluged with work, and it didn't let up. He ate a sandwich at his desk for lunch, and halfway through his afternoon he received a last-minute summons to a dinner. It was a dinner that promised to be a lengthy meeting. The chaotic day wasn't anything out of the ordinary, and he called Amelia to let her know they wouldn't be able to spend the evening together.
"It's probably just as well," she remarked. "I'm wiped out today. I think I need an early night."
He was about to make a remark about her nocturnal visit when one of his colleagues poked his head around the door.
"It's about the Landers deal," his cohort said urgently. "We need you."
"Sorry, Amelia, I have to go. I'll speak to you later."
"Okay, bye, James."
The rest of the day flew by, but the dinner was endless, and when he finally returned home it was too late to call. He gratefully peeled off his clothes, collapsed into bed, and surrendered to a deep, much-needed sleep. Waking the following morning, he felt ready to face the world once again, and after showering and dressing, he made his pot of tea. Settling at the kitchen counter he called her to check in, but when she answered she sounded out of breath.
"Sorry, I can't talk," she said briskly. "I'm dealing with the manager here at the hotel."
"Is there a problem?"
"Yes, there is, and—well—I can't get into it now. Sorry, I have to run. I'll call you when things get sorted."
"No worries. I'm here if you need me."
"Thanks, James. Bye."
A problem with her hotel? He thought it odd, and her voice had been strained. A short time later, in the cab heading to his office, the quick conversation replayed itself, and he couldn't shake the feeling the issue wasn't a minor one. As the morning hours ticked by with no word, he tried to tell himself he was being unduly concerned, but by lunchtime his worry had taken hold. Pi
cking up his phone, he was about to call her when Brad Harrison ambled into his office.
"Hi, Brad, what's up?"
"I just wondered if you'd heard about Amelia Campbell."
James felt his heart leap. She'd been in some horrible accident, burgled at the hotel, or—
"Rumor has it she's been named Executive Vice President of Coleman-Higgins Capital," Brad declared, interrupting his thoughts. "Can you believe it? It looks like New York will be short one brilliant Brit."
CHAPTER TWENTY
A sick feeling swept through James' body.
"James? Are you all right?"
"What?"
"You don't look right."
"Sorry, just preoccupied. That's astonishing news. Good for Amelia. She must be chuffed."
"I'm sure she is."
"Uh, Brad, how did you hear about this?"
"Joe was talking about it when I walked past his office. Apparently, the rumor's been floating around since last week."
"What did you hear exactly?" James pressed, wishing his heart would stop hammering.
"Joe said—Amelia Campbell is a lock, and she'll outshine the lot of them—or something like that. Maybe not outshine…"
"Thanks, Brad," James muttered, jumping from his chair. "Sorry, I've got to run,"
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No, no, not at all. There's just somewhere I need to be," he said hastily, and grabbing his coat, he marched from the office.
Questions were blazing through his head. He wanted answers, and he wanted them face to face. What Brad had told him made no sense, though Amelia's consistent unpredictability could not be ignored. Moving quickly out of his building and hailing a cab, he directed the driver to take him to The Four Seasons. Traffic was heavy, and as the cab stopped at a red light, he reached into his pocket for his phone and called her. He was not surprised it went straight to voicemail.
DESIRE UNLEASHED: Sexsomnia: A Psychological Romance Page 6