Return To Me

by LAYLE Madison

  “I love you, Travis. Even though you can’t fathom it, I still love you. I’ve loved you for more than a hundred years, and I’ll love you…forever.”

  Tears stung his eyes behind his closed eyelids. He loved her, too. And that made him the insane one. But even though he knew how stupid, how utterly impossible it was, he felt a connection to her stronger than he’d ever felt with anyone in his life.

  He’d lost his wife to a freak of nature. A flooded highway. A river that swept her away. No one to blame; plenty to mourn. But as much as he missed her, as much as he’d loved her with all his heart, he felt a bond to Dominique that went deeper and defied all logic. Losing Dominique when she finally made the transition just might kill him.

  “Please, Travis,” she whispered, and he felt her touch grow more solid, more real. “Please, just for one night, can you pretend?”

  He opened his eyes, but her light was gone, yet he felt her hand on his face. Her cool fingers brushed the hair at his temple. “What do you want me to pretend, Dominique?”

  “Pretend I’m real and that you love me in return. Pretend you believe that we have a future together...that it’s possible, even if it isn’t.”

  His heart felt torn to shreds. He didn’t need to pretend to love her. And he still didn’t know what to believe, but could he deny her any longer? Nothing about her was as it should be. She was not a normal earthbound spirit. She was special, and for some reason he was the one here to help her. Something had urged him to take this case when all he’d wanted was to return home to New York.

  “Please?” she whispered in his ear. “Love me this one night.”

  Chapter Nine

  He climbed to his feet, held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  When he felt her invisible fingers slip across his palm, he closed her hand in his and led her from the room. Without a word, he walked to what would no doubt be the master bedroom, or would if he owned the place.

  Renovations were complete here, from the fresh coat of paint on the crown molding to the hardwood floors with a new polyurethane shine. And like a few other rooms, some furniture was already in place. A high bed with an antique cherry wood headboard and a matching small stepladder was the centerpiece of the room. Its crowning glory, however, was an elegant veil of mosquito netting.

  “Dominique.” He carefully ran his hands up her arms, amazed by the feel of fabric he couldn’t see. Her shoulders were bare, however, the slender column of her neck smooth, solid, and cool. He felt flesh, but no heat. No warmth of the living. No pulse. “Tell me what you need. Tell me what you can feel.”

  She leaned forward, her lips grazing his cheek. He felt their shape, their softness, yet no gentle brush of her breath, only the low current of her energy like static electricity. The fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end.

  He longed to feel her body as she’d been a hundred and fifty years ago. Warm and alive. Yet he’d do anything he could to ease her torment. To take away her pain.

  “I feel your warmth,” she said against his lips. “I feel so calm when you touch me. When I touch you. Like we belong.”

  “Then why the sex?” he asked, even as he dropped his hand to cover the mound of her breast. Somehow she’d discarded the illusion of clothing, and so he lightly ran his fingers over bare skin, teasing a nipple he couldn’t see.

  “I feel what you feel. When you are aroused, I sense it. I experience my own form of it. When you come, I feel your release like a powerful surge.”

  “Then you do not feel my fingers on your breasts?”

  Her low sensual chuckle wound its way around his heart and made him hungry for more. He backed them toward the bed.

  “Your fingers are warm, gentle, but I also feel your pleasure in touching me.” She laughed. “You enjoy a nice pair of tits.”

  He laughed and released her only long enough to empty his pockets, tossing his keys, cell phone, and wallet on the bedside table. Then he moved aside the netting, climbed onto the bed, and pulled her against him. “Yes,” he said teasingly, nipping her earlobe. His hand again settled over one of her breasts. “I’ve always been fond of tits.”

  They laughed together, and it pierced his heart like a thorn. He closed his eyes to savor her the only way he could. This may be the only time he could ever be this way with her. Tomorrow night would be the full moon and All Hallows’ Eve. Twenty-four short hours from now she would be gone, separated from him, until his time came to leave this world and move on to the next.

  Her cool hand ran down his chest, over his stomach, but he caught her fingers in his when she reached his jeans buttons. “Let me, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “I like my buttons right where they are.”

  Her energy flared for an instant, and he caught the faintest hint of a shimmering glow before it vanished again. He realized her energy was growing stronger. Because he was aroused? The thought was heady, and one hell of a turn on.

  He tugged his buttons open as he felt Dominique’s hands slip under his T-shirt and tickle his ribs. He squirmed, but did nothing to stop her. A glance down showed that the shape of her hand and arm was evident under the cotton material. His cock sprang free of the confines of his jeans as her sizzling fingers coasted over his nipples, making him groan.

  “You like?” she asked, a hint of laughter in her silky tone.

  “Mmm hmm. Do it again,” he urged as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

  She complied, and he stroked himself with one hand while he held her close with the other arm.

  “Let me, ma cher.” Her own hand took the place of his, wrapping around his cock.

  “Ahh.” His hips thrust of their own volition at her pulsating, electrical stroke. Didn’t matter how much he expected it, it was still shocking. Powerful.

  “See me,” she said softly, and he opened his eyes, her form glowing so beautifully. “You make me this way.”

  As her cool hand stroked his erection, he reached for her, his fingers bathed in her soft light. She guided his hand until he could feel her face, cup her cheek, and bring her mouth to his. Keeping his eyes open, he kissed her spectral form. His tongue tangled with hers.

  She grew brighter with each stroke of her hand, each swipe of her tongue against his. His body sizzled and hummed. Forced to close his eyes, he panted through his nose, not wanting to lose contact with her even though his lungs burned for a deep breath.

  When she threw her leg over his hips and sank down over his engorged cock, he ripped his mouth away and shouted at the intense pleasure.

  “Yes, Travis,” she cried out and rode him hard, each thrust like an electrical jolt to his already overwhelmed senses.

  She grabbed his hands from her face and dragged them to her breasts. He surged up into her, pumping hard, and tried to watch her as she grew brighter and brighter, lighting the room like cool white sunlight.

  As his balls tightened, preparing to spill his seed, he grabbed her waist, rolled her over, never losing contact with her, and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tight against his heart as he pounded into her, reveling in the feel of her searing form from knees to chest.

  “So glorious,” she cried out as she rose to meet his every movement. Like two halves of a whole, they fit perfectly. Dominique was the one person who could make him feel complete, heal his emotional scars and, yet, make him bleed like never before.

  I love you, his mind shouted as he rammed into her. I love you for now and for always, my sweet Dominique!

  “Yes!” she said as if she’d heard the secret of his heart he could never say to her.

  The climax hit him like a lightening bolt and tore a shout of agonized ecstasy from his soul. His body strained against Dominique who glowed so bright, he had to shut his eyes.

  She screamed, and her fingers clawed at his shoulders as she bowed off the bed, keeping him seated deep inside her.

  A power surge hit the house like thunder. Ancient breakers blew, light bulbs popped, electrical connectors sizzl
ed. And then he fell limp against her. Just before he lost consciousness, he heard a soft snap. She disappeared, and he landed on the bed.

  Alone.

  * * * * *

  Travis awoke to the feel of Dominique’s frosty touch on his cheek. He smiled and reached for her, but found only cool, crisp sheets beneath his hand and an electrical charge that raised the hairs on his arm.

  Dominique’s low, sensual chuckle echoed around him, and he opened his eyes to see her transparent face lying just inches from him, her head resting on the other pillow.

  “You’re a tease,” he said, his voice deep and sleep-roughened. It was still dark outside the window, and he raised his wrist to look at the lighted face of his watch. Three-thirty. He yawned and closed his eyes. “Go solid so I can hold you, sweetheart.”

  “You only want to hold me?” she asked, and he heard the teasing behind her words.

  His cock jumped to life when she wrapped her solid, energized fingers around him.

  He pulled her against him and kissed her hard. Then pulled away. “Behave, sweetheart. Remember,” he said around another yawn. “I’m not like you. I need sleep.”

  She chuckled and snuggled against him. He tucked her head beneath his chin and threw his leg over hers, holding her as close as he could.

  I love you. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He ached to say them to her. But he couldn’t do anything that would possibly prevent her from crossing over. As much as it was going to rip his heart out—tear his soul open—he had to let her go. Help her go in fact. He just wished he knew how.

  The only hope was that he was correct in his assumption that with the full moon and the date, the walls between earth and the spirit world would be thin enough for her to find her way.

  He’d never been so at a loss as to how to help a ghost move on. Most every case, all that was needed was good communication with the earthbound spirit and for someone to tell them it was okay to go. Either they were confused and didn’t know where to go, or they felt they had unfinished business. Once in a while, if they’d been highly religious in their life, a priest was brought in to help, but even that was very rare.

  Dominique didn’t fit any mold. She knew where she wanted to be. And she claimed the unfinished business wasn’t even hers, but his.

  I know you are the man…the one I’ve waited for. A son of Margaret, he recalled her words. Then he remembered something else she’d told him. She said I would never live another day as long as a son of hers couldn’t own Beau Vista.

  A son of... A son of Margaret’s.

  His breath caught as his heart almost leapt out of his throat.

  “What’s wrong?” Dominique whispered as she ran her hand down his arm.

  “I have to make a call.” He kissed her forehead, then rolled away from her and grabbed his cell phone from the bedside table.

  “It is the middle of the night, ma cher. Whoever would you call?” She shimmered back to her visible visage; her brow pulled into a frown when he glanced over his shoulder at her.

  He flipped open his cell, but the display was nothing but static—no reception available. “I need to call my sister and ask her a question.” He stood up and tucked himself into his jeans. Jeez, he’d been so ready for Dominique, he’d barely gotten undressed. He grinned when he saw her quirked brow. “Do me a favor, sweetheart?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re messing with my phone.” He held it up to show her the distorted display. “Could you leave the room for a few minutes?”

  She chuckled and floated off the bed. “Call when you are done. I will be waiting.” Her voice had that sexy, husky quality to it that made his blood zing through his veins. She laughed and slipped through the open door.

  When he checked the phone again, he had a five-bar signal. He punched in his sister’s number and waited through a half dozen rings.

  “’Lo?” came his brother-in-law’s sleepy greeting.

  “Marty, it’s Travis. Let me talk to Lynn, please.”

  “Jus’sec.”

  Travis heard the rustle of movement, and then Lynn came on the line.

  “What’s wrong, Travis? What’s happened?”

  He smiled at the concern in her tone. “I’m fine, sis. But I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”

  “You’re fine?” she screeched. He pulled the phone from his ear. “Crap, Trav. It’s the middle of the night. Are you on one of your missions again? You never keep day and night straight when you’re working.”

  “Shh. Lynn. Shut up a sec. You know all that info you were gathering on the family’s genealogy?”

  “Don’t you tell me to shut up, you big jerk.”

  Travis chuckled. They might be nearing middle age, and Lynn had a couple of teenaged kids, but the sibling bond never broke. Lynn still treated him like a jerky big brother. Hell, he still acted like one.

  “The genealogy, Lynn. I need to know if we have any ties to Louisiana.”

  “Um. Yeah. Why?”

  “When? Where? Do you remember the connection?”

  “Let me think... Yeah, we had a great-great-great-grandmother who was born on a cotton plantation sometime before the Civil War. On Mom’s side. You know Dad’s side came over during the Potato Famine. Well, you probably don’t, since up until now when I’ve tried talking to you about it, you always got this glazed look in your eyes, as if I were speaking Swahili or something.”

  Travis’ heart stuttered and sweat broke out on his brow. No fucking way. He drew in a deep breath. “Do you happen to remember her name?”

  “It’s four o’clock in the morning. I don’t even remember my name. Call back at a reasonable hour.”

  “Don’t hang up!” He paced the length of the bedroom, ran his hand through his hair, and then stopped to stare out the window at the darkened landscape beyond. The trees looked eerie in the moonlit gloom. He tried to catch his breath, but his lungs seemed to be squeezed too tight.

  “What’s up with you, Trav? Are you sure you’re all right?” He could hear the concern in Lynn’s voice, and it calmed him a bit.

  “Sis. This is very important. Do you know if our ancestor’s name was St. Maurice?”

  “Yeah, that sounds very familiar. Why?”

  “What about the name Beau Vista?”

  “Yeah! That’s the plantation. How did you know that?”

  He sank onto the end of the bed, his legs too shaky to hold him up.

  “I’m there now.” And in love with our great-great-whatever uncle’s lover.

  Oh, my god. Dominique has been right all along. I’m a direct descendant of William and Margaret St. Maurice.

  “Really? How cool is that? What’s it like?”

  He heard his sister’s excitement, but his mind was whirling too fast to respond. “I’ll call you in a couple days,” he said, then disconnected the call before she could speak. “I have a plantation to buy.”

  His heart thudded. His head hurt. Dominique was right. It all fell into place. And once he held the deed to Beau Vista as his own…

  Hot tears stung his eyes, but he swiped them away and started dialing the Grangers’ number, then stopped. It was the middle of the night. There was nothing they could do now. It’d have to wait until morning.

  Would they be willing to give up their dream home? Damn straight they would, especially if he offered them enough. He had to help Dominique, and damn his own traitorous heart. He couldn’t keep her earthbound for his own selfish pleasures. She deserved more than that. She deserved to rest in peace.

  “Travis?” she called from the doorway. “Are you done with your call?”

  “Ye…” He cleared his throat, tight with a lump of painful emotion. “Yes. I’m done.”

  “Is something the matter?”

  He swiped his eyes again, not wanting her to see his pain, and plastered on a smile before he turned. “Everything’s great. You were right. I’m a descendant of Thomas’ sister. As soon as I…” Damn his tumultuous emotions. “I�
��ll call David and Susan first thing in the morning. By tomorrow night you should be free.”

  A smile spread over her beautiful face, but quickly fell. “You will buy Beau Vista and live here?”

  “I will buy Beau Vista,” he said, not making any more promises. Once Dominique was gone, he hoped to never lay eyes on this monstrosity again. How could he live in this place knowing that he’d never see his beautiful Dominique floating down a hallway toward him, or have to reset the breakers when her energy blew them? Or hold her in his arms?

  “Do not buy it,” she said, her words rushed. “Don’t buy it, and we can—”