The Way You Make Me Feel

by Francine Craft

  A lump lodged in Stevie’s throat, and for a moment she couldn’t speak to say thank-you. Then she found her voice and expressed her appreciation. “Have you heard of any progress on Bretta’s case?” she asked Jessi. “I talk with Detective Rollins from time to time, saw him this morning, in fact, but he said nothing about it. He was called away on a shooting.”

  “Everybody’s got a gun,” Jessi said bitterly. “No, I’ve heard nothing. I’m just praying this doesn’t go into a cold case. Police say the best cases are solved in forty-eight hours. Then the trail begins to cool, evidence begins to get lost.”

  Stevie nodded. “Having Bretta’s jewelry seems to help me. I’ll be taking it out and looking at it from time to time. We’re leaving for Diamond Point Sunday morning. Damien’s made arrangements for me to pick up wedding finery there, and we’ll be married the same day. He knows all kinds of people there. We’ll only be gone for a few days. He has a series of production meetings for a young singer Nubian Gold’s promoting, so we have to get back.”

  Stevie hugged herself. “Jessi, this seems like a dream, a wonderful, delicious dream. Lord, if only Bretta could share this.”

  Jessi nodded and smiled at her friend. “Damien’s eyes light up when you’re around. He’s a man in love, my girl, and don’t you forget it.”

  Stevie couldn’t talk about it to just anybody. Bretta would have understood, and she could say to Jessi, “Damien’s afraid of love just like I’m afraid of love. We need each other and we’re hungry for children and companionship. Can it work, Jessi? I’m praying that it can.”

  Jessi studied Stevie a few minutes before she said slowly, “You’re both the most levelheaded people I know and the most loving. And you know, I think you’re both on the edge of love—dipping your toes in the ocean, so to speak. One day I predict you’ll dive in.”

  But Stevie thought Jessi didn’t know Damien the way she did. She hadn’t watched him falling apart, wanting to die and thinking about bringing that desire to fruition. She could understand his fear of love. And was her fear any less? Jake had used her, abused her, come close to destroying all the passion she had felt for life when she met him. He had succeeded in making her feel ashamed of her sexuality that helped make life worth living. If Damien did nothing else, he had succeeded so quickly in bringing her back to being on the way to feeling whole again.

  “What’s that wonderful smell?” Jessi lifted her chin and inhaled deeply.

  “Mrs. Patton likes plenty of vanilla beans when she cooks fruit pies and she’s making fresh apple pies. She has three, so there’s plenty for you to have some.”

  “Oh, love, I wish we had time, but we’ve got to get back. You know tonight’s a big night. We have a name combo coming in for the next three nights. You know Nick Redmond.”

  “I have to say I do remember him and his family. If I weren’t going to be here I’d be there all three nights. Please give him my best regards. Him, Janet and the anklebiter.”

  Jessi nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  “I’m going to pack a pie for you to take with you. They’re too good to pass up and Rip could eat a whole one by himself.”

  “Girl, you’re not kidding. That boy has to have elephant blood the way he eats. We tell him he’s eating himself out of house, home and college. You tell me your memory’s returning fast,” Jessi said. “Anything spectacular lately?”

  “No, nothing spectacular. Things just come in. I didn’t remember an hour ago and I do suddenly. Dr. Winslow says it works differently for different people. He and Damien are so pleased.” Her face clouded then. “I’ve asked Dr. Winslow this question and we can’t find an answer. Why do you think I’m afraid I’ll be killed if I remember just that small—well, that block of time with the orange-red ball? I say small—it could be five minutes, an hour, a day…”

  Jessi nodded sympathetically. “That part worries me all right. I’m glad you have Damien and that Detective Rollins is checking on you. Keith and Jake are scoundrels, not fools.”

  Stevie sniffed. “Being a scoundrel never stopped anyone from also being a fool.”

  They looked at the other pieces of jewelry and commented on them. But it was a yellow diamond ring that brought tears to both their eyes.

  “Bretta bought this when she thought she was pregnant while she was still married to Keith. She was so happy…” Stevie’s face was sad, remembering. “She wasn’t pregnant and she cried for a long time in my arms. How could anyone have killed her?”

  “God knows, she was happy seldom enough when she was married to that bum. Has he given you any more trouble?”

  “Not that I’m certain of.” Stevie told her about the note on Damien’s lawn. “It could be Keith, but Jake was furious last night. Either man’s enough of an ass to do it. Keith’s going to strike back in some way, I’m sure of it. If looks could kill applies to him or Jake.”

  “Well, both men are in the crosshairs of the law. If Keith doesn’t watch it, he could go back to prison for parole violation.” Jessi was indignant at the thought of anything bad happening to Stevie.

  “I’d sure sleep a lot better with both of them somewhere else,” Stevie said heatedly.

  Jessi stretched, preparatory to getting ready to collect her family and leave. “When you get back, there’ll be the prettiest wedding present you ever saw. You and Damien. A marriage straight from heaven. You’re both getting your just deserts.”

  After dinner, Damien and Stevie went back to the family room with a piece of spicy apple pie. “Now this is the last word in delectable,” Damien said, then eyed her with a look of lust. “Except for you, of course.” He was teasing and he wasn’t teasing.

  They finished their pie and Stevie took the dishes back to the kitchen, then returned to the room where Damien lay sprawled on the sofa. She sat at the end and had him settle so that his head was in her lap.

  “You know,” he said, “I’m remembering your wedding.”

  “Ugh. Let’s talk of pleasant things.”

  “You were so happy riding on the crest of fame. Jake watched you like you were the Koh-i-noor diamond and every man there was trying to steal you. I winked at you from a short distance away and you blushed and winked back. Ah, Stevie, you looked good enough to eat. Honi and I were in seventh heaven there together. She saw us wink at each other and got mad, said I was a woman-chasing dog and I saw Jake scowl at you.

  “You had recorded some of our best songs and I was happy for you. Publicists had long labeled you the Queen of Passion and you were setting the world on fire. Fans were devouring you with their presence. And his response to that double wink told me that Jake was the wrong man for you. You have a passionate soul, Stevie. It’s part of who you are. I knew you well enough, but not the way I came to know you when you helped me through the days and nights…”

  Stevie closed her eyes, and scene after scene of her wedding night and the reception flashed back. It wasn’t bad enough to have post-traumatic stress disorder, but the memories shook her as Jake had shaken her afterwards at their huge house.

  “You little bitch,” he’d raged in their bedroom. “Am I gonna have to see half the men in Nashville coming on to you? You and Steele winking at each other. You don’t record for me—you record for him. Is fooling around the reason?”

  She’d tried to remain calm, but she’d been furious—and scared of his brutishness.

  “I don’t do your type of song and you know it. My songs are tender and Murder In Your Face doesn’t do tender. Damien and I are professional colleagues and friends. He’s given me a world of publicity and help.”

  “Hell, I’m going to pour money into your publicity the way you never dreamed. You’re my wife now and you’re going to get everything my money can buy. Did you and Steele sleep together?”

  “No!” She had been astonished. They’d never even kissed.

  “You’re probably lying. Women are big liars. They don’t call you the Queen of Passion for nothing. You know something, I’m gonna
play that line to the hilt. But you’re gonna be all mine. I catch you with another man, you’ll be pushing up a whole field of daisies.”

  The threats had cooled any ardor she might have felt for him. And Jake had been too drunk to notice she didn’t respond on her wedding night.

  He’d drawn her close then, but she was cool in his arms. “You know something,” he’d repeated. “If I ever catch you with Steele or any other man, you’re gonna be dead meat and I’ll go scot-free. I hate Steele and I don’t want you even looking at him.”

  “I record for Nubian Gold, remember.” She had been calm then. He wasn’t going to own her.

  “Yeah, and maybe we’ll be changing that.”

  She had dug in then. She was going to continue recording for Nubian Gold, even if it meant divorcing Jake after a very brief marriage. She was on top and she meant to stay there.

  “Honey,” she said quietly now.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “I remember my wedding night. All of it.”

  That night Jake had grown contrite, had gone on his knees and cried, apologizing to her for his behavior. And he’d done this for well over a year until she’d grown sick of him and filed for divorce.

  It took a minute for her words to sink in. Her entire wedding night. That was quite a block of time.

  “And I remember other things about my marriage to Jake. I would have stayed longer, but he got more abusive and threatened more and more to kill me. I wasn’t going to take that.”

  He sat up and hugged her. “Baby, baby,” he whispered with moisture in his eyes. He wanted her to remember her entire past, but he knew the fear that paralyzed her when she got to the scene that proved so terrifying.

  Later that night after Stevie had gotten in bed, Damien came into her room and sat on the edge of the bed. Stevie touched his thigh.

  “You sat on the bed the first night I came to you for help,” she said quietly. “I was so frightened I didn’t want you out of my sight. I’ve taken up so much of your time.”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Hush. We were lucky. There’s not much going on at Nubian Gold that the staff can’t handle without me. But even if there had been…We’re gearing up for your next album. You mean so much to me, Stevie. I hope I make you know that.”

  She nodded. “And you mean even more to me.”

  He drew a deep breath. “This time tomorrow we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Damien Steele.”

  She smiled then. “Except I’ll always have to be Stevana Simms.”

  “Yeah, because you’re a diva.”

  “No. My father wanted a boy. He always said he’d rather have me than any boy, but I was an only child and he wanted me to carry on his name. Do you mind?”

  He leaned over and cuddled her. “I don’t mind. You’re my woman. Just keep that in memory. Listen, babe, I’m punch-proud of the way you got all that stuff with Jake straight tonight. You remember so much now.”

  “Not enough. Not the most important thing.”

  “All in good time.”

  Stevie said slowly, “Dr. Winslow says that we have to respect my resistance to remembering.”

  “I think he’s right.”

  The hair suddenly lifted on the back of her head with fear and anxiety. “Damien, what if I saw something that has to do with Bretta’s death?” She had never let herself think of that.

  Damien was very still. “That’s very possible.” He had long thought of that possibility. “Look, I’m not sure we ought to go into this just before you go to sleep. You’ll have nightmares. I want you fresh and beautiful for our wedding.”

  “Honi’s beautiful, not me.”

  “You’re my kind of beautiful.” He stroked her body under the sheet, bent and kissed her face. She hadn’t wanted him to leave the first night; she didn’t want him to leave her now.

  “Marriage is a big step,” she said solemnly. “Aren’t you a little scared?”

  “Hell, I’m very scared, but we move on by going past our comfort zone. We’re a good team, baby. Promise me you’ll tell me when I do things that bother you or upset you, and I’ll do the same. We’ll talk things through always. We’ll communicate with ourselves and each other. We’re going to have a really good marriage and be the greatest parents.”

  Her face got dreamy. “Yes. We could make love tonight. Now.”

  Her saying it brought him up short. He felt his shaft harden and a pure thrill shot the length of him. “We won’t make love until you’re out of the woods. I can’t stand the feeling of taking advantage of you.”

  “You make me sound so sick. I’m not. I remember a lot now.”

  “You’re still shaken.”

  “Not when I’m with you I’m not. Your eyes tell me you want me.”

  He swatted her backside playfully. “We save the lovemaking until…”

  She looked at him steadily, her body growing hot. “Until what, honey?”

  Calling him honey felt good. “Until you’re feeling secure. Now listen, you go to sleep. I won’t kiss you because I don’t want to go up in flames.”

  She laughed a little then. “You’re going to owe me a honeymoon and I don’t think I’ll let you back out.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge…”

  He patted her backside again, got up and left saying “Pleasant dreams.” He blew her a kiss from the doorway.

  Stevie pulled up the coverlet and settled down. She wouldn’t sleep, she just knew it—but she did sleep soundly for a long time before the dream came: She walked to the edge of a woods and, hidden by bushes, saw a group of people dressed in dark clothing. Except there was a big ball of orange-red in the middle. Something bad was going on that she couldn’t bear to watch. She turned away in terror and when she could make herself look again, the orange-red ball had dwindled and this time it was spinning and spinning. Then came a high, thin, eerie wail that made her blood run cold. The primeval cry of someone being hurt—or killed.

  She came awake to realize that it was her own cry she had heard, then Damien burst through the door to her side. It was l:00 a.m. She was damp with perspiration. He gathered her in his arms and held her as she shook and sobbed helplessly. His big, hard body was a haven of strength and she could not let him go.

  He rocked and cuddled her for a long time, smoothed her hair, stroked her back.

  “The dream again,” he said grimly.

  “I almost saw it,” she whimpered, “but I couldn’t look. Then when I did look something had happened. Something bad. Damien, am I ever going to know?”

  He kissed her face and her scalp. “I think you will know, baby. Just be patient.”

  Gradually she calmed, and he told her, “I’ll get you some hot milk or some hyssop tea.”

  “No, I…”

  She didn’t want him to leave her.

  “You need something to calm you.”

  “You calm me. I don’t need anything else.” She put her arms around his neck, drew him close and kissed him full on the mouth. Her tongue moved across his lips, feverishly seeking his open mouth. She explored his hot, slightly salty mouth and probed it relentlessly. Groaning, he bent her back and his own tongue did some exploring of its own. Her flesh was very warm and soft and he was going up in the flames he didn’t want to happen just yet.

  “Honey, please make love to me.” She sounded desperate.

  “We shouldn’t,” he groaned.

  “Yes, we should. I want you and I need you. And you want and need me. I can’t wait any longer. I want you too much.”

  Words were not what she wanted now. She wanted him inside her, raging with the same desire that consumed her.

  “Okay. I’m going to give you what you’re asking for,” he told her, his voice hoarse with wanting. “All of it.”

  He stripped the gown from her body and kissed the honeyed flesh of her face and moved toward her breasts where he stopped and suckled hungrily. It seemed a lifetime since he’d known this pleasure and he was ravenous. After a moment, she gently
pushed his head away, stripped off his pajamas and held his hard body in her arms. She felt half-crazy, sick with hunger, and her tongue brushed across his broad chest with its rippling pectoral muscles, gripped his biceps and squeezed them. She ran her fingers deeply into the washboard abs and massaged them.

  His shaft was rock-hard and throbbing and she was crying for him to be inside her. But he rubbed his erection against her bud, causing her to buck and convulse. He took mercy then and stroked her private parts, enjoying the syrupy wetness of her in his fingers.

  She grasped his shaft and slowly guided it in deep, and he moved expertly and rhythmically. A dance of desire.

  He lifted her legs and held them in the crooks of his arms and she threw her legs across his back and tightened them, holding him in. There was so much she wanted to do to him, but this was paramount. Heaven itself could be no better.

  When he went past her womb, she cried out his name and he crushed her to him. Heat flashed through her body like wildfire and he was going under with thrills that made his body spasm. He had had no time to prepare himself mentally for this and he couldn’t hold back. He thought of snow and icy water, but it didn’t help. Good thing they were getting married that day, he thought, because the heat from her body would have burned through a condom.

  There was so much he wanted to do to her, but there would be all the time in the world later. Now he had this and nothing he had ever known had felt better. He felt his body quake suddenly and violently and felt his hot seed rush into her waiting womb and cling there, anxious to meld and join with the eggs of her body to make the child they both wanted so badly.

  And lying beneath him, there were still tears in her eyes, but those tears had changed from frustration and sadness to pure joy. It had been everything she could have hoped for, even if it was over too soon. She held him in to her as he continued to work her and in a minute her own moments of glory came, and she lay gripping and releasing him in perfect rhythm.

  He was spent and damp and he held her, smiling fondly. “I wanted to save you until you were fully ready.”