She could see, though a ghost of an image, a big wooden rowboat with tall sides approaching the shore. She squeezed her hands into fists, trying to bring the image closer…
She stood on the beach, close to the cliffs that she had carefully descended with her horse moments before. The strong waves made it easier for the boat to lift onto the wet sand. Three men jumped out to drag the boat higher on the beach. Before they had it pulled completely ashore, one of the men let go and came running toward her. Her heart pounded in her chest, beating faster the closer he got. Just a breath away now, he stopped in front of her. Unable to contain her joy, she threw her arms around his neck. A rush of relief consumed her as his strong arms tightened around her waist, his lips finding hers...
Eryn quickly drew in her breath and the specter was gone, just like that. She stood there, eyes searching, body frozen, unable to release her breath. The pounding of her heart swelled to a roar in her ears and she pressed her lips together to stop their tingling. As streams of sunlight, no longer soft, devoured the magic of the morning, replacing it with harsh reality, she fought to keep the vision alive, playing it over and over in her head. The boatman who ran up the beach had worn black pants and his white shirt hung loosely over his strong chest and arms. His brown shoulder-length hair flung against his face, shadowing his eyes from the sun. She focused on his beautiful face, his sensual lips. His eyes were so full of emotion! And the kiss – ah, that kiss! – had stopped all too soon.
“What the hell?” she said out loud, finally breathing. She squinted against the sun, turning in place to scan the beach once again. Only the squawking of the circling seagulls answered her. Her heart beat unreasonably fast.
One thing was undeniable. The man who sat next to her in her dream and the man who ran up the beach in the ghostly vision were definitely the same man. This time it was so real, though. She could still feel his firm lips on hers; could still feel the excitement of seeing him again. Again? That same sense of familiarity surrounded him, as if she knew him.
She took a deep breath while turning around and walked back to her car, willing her still-racing heart to slow down its pounding.
“It’s got to be stress,” she said to a seagull that landed near her. She wanted desperately to believe it. A reaction to stress would make it easier to explain the incident away. But something told her it wasn’t just that. She didn’t have enough stress to trigger hallucinations or even a minor breakdown. Besides, she highly doubted a breakdown would come in the form of an extremely sexy pirate with eyes in which she could lose herself.
She couldn’t help but glance back over her shoulder. She actually hoped to catch another glimpse of him! Ok, maybe a little counseling wouldn’t hurt. She picked up her pace and ran as hard and fast as she could.
≈
Brandi wrinkled her nose as Eryn plopped in the chair across from her. “Did you by any chance go for a run this morning?”
Young, energetic waiters and waitresses flitted around cloth-covered tables like bees, sweeping up empty plates, laying down fresh linen and silverware, and jotting down orders, all while instinctively dodging busboys and hostesses. Perky staff, perky greetings, perky smiles. Sometimes the place was too perky for Eryn, but the coffee was good.
“How’d you guess?” Eryn countered sarcastically. She quickly guzzled the water the waiter had placed in front of her, then reached for her coffee.
“For one thing, the sweat stains, and for another thing, the smell of sweat.”
“Yeah, well, exercise does have some drawbacks,” Eryn said, shrugging.
Brandi shuddered. “A lot of drawbacks, I’d say. My way is a whole lot easier.”
“Popping diet pills may be easier, but not smart.” Eryn studied her friend. Only a few months younger than Eryn, Brandi’s face reflected the effects of her lifestyle. Too much booze had turned her skin so sallow and pale that she had to cover it with a thick layer of concealer dusted over with bronzer. Her blond hair, with carefully touched-up roots, was pulled into a loose ponytail, accentuating her slightly sunken cheeks.
“If you would just go running with me….”
Brandi waved her hand in dismissal. “Not a chance. Besides, serious competition in the acting world calls for drastic measures.”
Eryn knew there would be no conceding on Brandi’s part. They’d had this conversation too many times before and it always ended up the same. It was easier just to change the subject.
“So what’s up with you? Got anything brewing?” asked Eryn over the top of her coffee cup.
“Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.” Brandi’s hands gestured animatedly. “I’m up for a part in a new sitcom and I’m waiting to see about a print job for a catalog.”
Eryn's eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “Really? That’s great! What kind of catalog?”
“Oh, it’s a new one. Fashion…you know.” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the subject. “Hey, guess who I saw last night.” Brandi didn’t wait for a response. “Cole Hamilton. Boy, is he a hottie! I sure would like to get together with him!”
“Isn’t that the guy in that new vampire movie?”
Brandi nodded enthusiastically.
“A little young for you, don’t you think?” Eryn teased.
“Hey, I’ll take whatever. I haven’t had a serious relationship for a long time.” Brandi shrugged, pulling a cigarette out of her purse and putting it between her lips. “I’m desperate. What can I say?”
“You know you can’t smoke in here.”
“Oh yeah. Damn rules.” Brandi shoved the cigarette back in the pack. “Speaking of hotties, how’s Bryce?”
Eryn’s stared at her coffee. “Oh, he’s fine. Business as usual.”
Eryn looked up in time to see Brandi raise one brow high. It curved in a much-too-perfect arch. Eryn wondered if she practiced that look.
“What wrong?” Brandi leaned closer, her chin resting on a fisted hand. “I mean…really.”
Drawing a big breath, Eryn let it out slowly. She pressed her lips together in indecision. She knew her friend’s interest in her marriage was fueled more by the possibility of gossip rather than by concern, but sometimes that didn’t matter. It helped Eryn to air it all out.
“I don’t know. Things have changed. Maybe they were never really right to begin with.” She took a sip of her coffee, trying to keep her voice light. “Who knows? Maybe it’s just me.” Maybe it was her. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t seem to get through to Bryce. When they first met, they just clicked, but even then there always seemed to be something wedged between them. There was never any warmth or emotion in his eyes, certainly nothing at all like…
“I had a dream the other night that started me thinking,” Eryn said hesitantly.
Brandi picked up a yellow packet of sweetener and shook it, waiting for an explanation.
Eryn shook her head, unwilling to go into detail. “Probably just a symbol of something lacking in my life.” She shrugged. “I was thinking I should have my dreams analyzed.”
Eryn leaned back as the waiter topped off her coffee. “Thanks.” She poured some more cream, watching how it to sank beneath the dark surface and reemerge at the top. She stirred until the contrasting colors blended seamlessly into one. Why can’t people blend that well? Why are people and their relationships so damn complicated?
“Sometimes I wonder what attracted us in the first place,” Eryn said.
Not that she had much perspective on the matter. She has never been serious about anyone but Bryce.
“You could have done a lot worse.” Brandi pointed out. “Remember Derek from our Science class? He was always after you to have his babies.”
Eryn shuddered at the thought. “Eww. How could I forget?” She paused, biting her lip. “Bryce is a good guy. I’m probably just going through a midlife crisis.”
That was it, wasn’t it? Most marriages hit a stale spot once in awhile, right? If it’s as simple as that, Eryn thoug
ht, I can make it work. Yeah. Just a little bump in the road. Feeling a little better, she changed her focus. “Anyway, are you free tonight? Bryce is inviting some heavy hitters over. Who knows, maybe we can land you a quality husband, huh?”
Brandi’s eyes brightened. “You know I’m always up for a party. What time?”
Eryn pulled some money out of her wallet and put it on the table. “Show up around 6:00.” She took one more swig of her coffee before standing up. “Gotta go get cleaned up.” She rounded the table and gave her friend a quick hug. “See you tonight.”
≈
Eryn stopped short just inside the kitchen. She had thought Bryce would be gone by now. Bryce looked up from the newspaper so briefly Eryn would have missed it had she not been staring right at him.
He glanced at his watch. “Long run?” he asked, his attention returning to the paper.
She skirted the marble island and opened the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. His question lacked real interest, so she answered in the same way.
“Not really. I had coffee with Brandi,” she said. She certainly wasn’t even going try to explain what she saw, or thought she saw, on the beach. How could she, when she couldn’t even explain it herself?
He folded up the paper and placed it on the counter. Drinking the last of his coffee, he joined Eryn at the counter, keeping a thin distance between them.
“Everything set for tonight?”
“Of course.” Her face darkened. Why was it so hard for him to show some intimacy? She drew a deep breath and let it out. “The cleaning service will be here this morning.”
“Good. I have to go. I’ll be back early.”
As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. She couldn’t deny the physical attraction she felt for him, still as strong as the day they met. Refusing to conform to the corporate image, he kept his hair long enough to pull back at the nape of his neck, giving him an untamed, roguish air. Eryn traced the line of his strong jaw, brushed his high cheeks and his perfectly shaped nose.
His eyes often hid his feelings, but now impatience filtered through the steely blue eyes.
“Do I get a kiss before you go?” she asked.
He hesitated a moment before dipping his head to meet her upturned face. He kissed her quickly, but Eryn pulled him closer, keeping his lips to hers. When he didn’t respond, she pulled back, her arms dropping to her sides.
“Sorry,” she laughed self-consciously. “Don’t know what got into me.”
He kissed her on the forehead and headed toward the door.
She watched as it closed behind him, cutting off any further contact between them. Her nails dug deep into her palms. What got into me? she chided herself. She just wanted some reaction from him. She wanted to feel a toe-curling, lip-puckering, sweaty-palm feeling. Did that kind of feeling really actually exist? She loosened her now aching hands and leaned hard against the counter. Yeah, it does, she thought. But maybe just in dreams.
Chapter 4
Catherine sat in a chair in front of the fire, Emelie’s rhythmic brushing of her hair relaxing both her mind and body. Here in her chambers, the village seemed so far away, fading with the setting sun. Now Catherine could think more clearly. Her mood had lifted since this afternoon when her horse had brought her thundering through the castle gate. A warm bath, food, and wine did wonders to bring her emotions back under control. Undoubtedly, she told herself, her muddled thoughts and shaking limbs had much more to do with the effects of the hot sun than with the handsome, bold-eyed, young merchant.
The door was thrown open, shattering the serenity of the evening. Catherine sighed. There was only one person who opened doors with such vigor and without a considerate knock. There would be no further peace for Catherine tonight.
Sara, her young sister, bolted across the room to stand before her. The girl’s eyes were wide with anticipation, her face flushed with expectation. Sara had been away for some weeks, accompanying her father to Dirkstowe, another holding of his. Within hours of her arrival this afternoon, the gossip about the merchant had made its way to her.
“So what is he really like, Catherine? Is he as handsome as Emelie says?” She leaned forward in insistence. At 14 summers, she stood almost as tall as Catherine, yet was considerably thinner, and her dark tresses spilled down her back, reaching down to hang at her thin waist. Sara’s almost too-round eyes feigned innocence, but there was a depth to them that often spoke otherwise.
Sara was four years old when their mother died. Since that time her father had indulged her without boundaries. Much to Catherine’s dismay, Sara has grown to be impetuous and demanding, flirtatious and teasing. Despite Catherine’s promise to her mother to watch over Sara, the older girl has found it increasingly difficult to control her sister’s behavior.
Sara demanded again. “You simply must tell me everything!”
Catherine closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. “Pray tell, Sara. What gossip is keeping the maids from their duties?”
Sara’s gaze flickered to Emelie for a moment before darting back to her sister. “Emelie told me he is most handsome. Tall and strong. And his eyes alone were enough to make her knees weak.”
When Catherine did not respond, Sara went on. “It seems all the women in the village nigh lost their senses in his presence.”
Catherine fought to keep her expression passive. If Emelie had mentioned Catherine’s own behavior that morning, Sara’s face did not betray such.
Sara persisted. “What of you, Catherine? Emelie said you spoke to him. Did you think he was so wonderful?”
Catherine sighed. There would be no satisfying her sister, whatever her answer would be. “What does it matter what I think of the man, Sara? You can see him for yourself and make up your own mind.”
Sara’s face brightened. “Truly that is an excellent idea! Then we shall seek this merchant at first light on the morrow!” Sara was on her feet and rushing out of the room before Catherine could object.
There was no point to fighting her, Catherine knew. Sara would find a way to see the merchant whether Catherine forbade it or not. She frowned. Had it not been for Emelie and Elizabeth’s need to gossip, Sara’s curiosity would not have been so piqued.
“Emelie, what exactly did you say to her?” she asked.
Emelie came around and knelt before Catherine, looking at the floor. “My apologies, milady. I meant no harm. You know that Lady Sara can be very persistent. She would not let me rest until I told her what she wanted to hear.”
The silence stretched as Catherine contemplated Emelie. Yes, Catherine knew only too well how her young sister could be. Sara allowed nothing to stand in her way when the end result was to her benefit. Catherine could not fathom how her own mother, so kind and beautiful, could have spawned such a devious and manipulative child as Sara.
“I shall have my privacy now, Emelie.”
“Yes, milady.” She stood before her mistress, hands held tightly together, showing no inclination to go.
“What is it?” Catherine’s voice was impatient. She wanted to be alone.
There was a slight quiver in Emelie’s voice. “I…I said nothing to Lady Sara about milady’s…behavior today.”
Catherine stood, her back stiffening at the implication. “Of course you did not! There was nothing to say.”
“Yes, milady. Naturally not,” Emelie agreed.
Catherine gestured toward the door and now the maid curtsied and hurried out. Catherine bolted the door behind her. She slowly turned and leaned against the door, sighing deeply. Nothing to say, indeed, she thought. But what Catherine had felt, well, that was something altogether different.
≈
Sitting resolutely upon her mare, Catherine silently cursed her sister. If Sara would only behave in a manner befitting of a young lady, she would not have been compelled to accompany her sister this morning to ensure that the girl stayed within the boundaries of propriety. If not for Sara, Catherine would not have spent the morning trying
to convince herself that she had no desire to see the merchant again. She inclined her face to meet the morning sun, mixed with the warmth of the air, and breathed deeply. It would be easier to convince herself that the sun would one day forget to rise.
“Oh! Catherine! That must be him!” Sara reigned in her horse and waited for Catherine to join her.
Indeed, it could only be him. His too-virile body, naked from the waist up, assaulted her senses once again. Catherine’s heart quickened at the sight of his bare shoulders and muscled back glistening with sweat. His corded muscles moved easily with the weight of the boxes he carried. Sara’s sharp intake of breath broke Catherine’s stare.
Averting her eyes from the merchant, she turned to face Sara. “Do close your mouth, sister, lest he sees you gaping like a fool.” Catherine cringed. And you would do well to tame the beating of your own heart.
Catherine dismounted, allowing her horse to graze on the grass beneath their feet. “Come, Sara. Let this be done with.” Her slippered feet were quick and firm upon the ground as she approached where he stood.
Jonathan looked up to see the women approaching. His eyes flickered a moment to Sara, then firmly settled on Catherine, his smile radiating only for her.
“Fine morning, ladies!” Jonathan called out. ”Tis early for you to be up and about, is it not?”
As he turned around to reach for his tunic, Catherine couldn’t help but to look at his broad back that he unwittingly put on display before her. Many years of hard labor have chiseled the strong muscles that rippled when he moved. Her gaze followed the edge of his tunic as it slipped over his bronzed skin, then snapped back up to his face when she dared to look no further.
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