He didn’t like her reply. She didn’t try to fight him. She merely lifted her eyes sadly to his. “I doubt if you’ll want to marry me anymore tomorrow,” she said quietly.
And with a dignified little hike to her shoulders, she left him.
He stared after her for a long while.
Serena didn’t go into the house when she drove home; she left her car and started walking blindly, and her walk brought her to the pond. She sat down upon the damp earth, not caring that dirt and soft, sandy mud covered her skirt and stockings.
It was strange, but at the pond she didn’t feel anything. The terrible feeling of something terrible about to happen left her. It was almost as if a veil of tranquility had fallen over her.
She didn’t know how long she sat. But sometimes she would glance up at the sun and see that it was moving across the sky. Twilight was coming.
And twilight made tears slip silently down her cheeks even as a smile of memory tugged at her lips.
She could remember that first time so clearly.
He had risen from the water, and as soon as she had quit choking, she had looked at him and known that no matter what the consequences, she wanted him, desperately, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
And that very first time, as total strangers, their lovemaking had been beautiful. He had known just where and when to touch her; she had known his incredible physique in return.
And despite all the lies she had told herself, she must have known even then she loved him, because once he had touched, she had known that she had always craved his touch.
“Oh, Justin,” she whispered fervently aloud, “I love you so much. I would fight anything to be with you, but I love you too much to take a chance on hurting you.”
The trees whispered in a soft breeze, and the water of the pond rippled, brushed to little peaks of shimmering sparkles as it caught and reflected the last sun of the day.
She didn’t feel him behind her. She had no awareness at all until he spoke, and then her back seemed to stiffen and freeze.
“There was a problem with Flight 307 from Cincinnati,” he said, and she was stunned to realize that his voice was merely calm and authoritative, nothing more. “A small fire broke out in flight, but the plane landed safely. Several passengers were hospitalized, but all are reported in stable condition.”
Serena kept staring at the pond. She wanted to talk, but she couldn’t. She wanted to scream at him, to beg that he go away, to tell him that he tortured both of them.
He sat down beside her and drew her chin around gently with his thumb and forefinger.
“Serena—Jenny wasn’t on the flight.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him, and she started to tremble uncontrollably. He slipped an arm around her and brought her head to rest against his shoulder.
“I called her, sweetheart, just as you asked. Everything is all right.”
Serena started to cry again, she couldn’t help herself. Silent tears raced down her cheeks. “But, Justin, it isn’t! Don’t you see—”
“I only see that I love you,” he interrupted, “and that you love me. And that I want you to be my wife.”
“Justin, I can’t …” The words came out in anguish. She was staring at his hand, at the long fingers, at the broad back, and she was thinking that she loved everything about him, from the way his fingers dangled to the way his eyes darkened in passion and even in anger.
“Just suppose,” he interrupted her again, “that any of this made sense. Say—hypothetically—that Eleanora and Miles have in some way come back. And now think, Serena, pay close attention to what I’m saying. Eleanora died in that staircase—Miles was able to do nothing. But, Serena, I was able to bring you out. And then we’ll take poor Miles. Bereft of the woman he loved, he sickened and died. Say that I was threatened by something happening to someone I loved dearly, my own blood. Jennifer. Nothing happened to her, Serena, because of you. Now suppose, just suppose, hypothetically, that we are talking about shades of the past. Eleanora and Miles loved each other. Their most fervent wishes were to be together. If they have come back, Serena, don’t you think they want us to be together, more than anything in the world? That very special love, that recognition of the perfect mate for life? Those were what we all shared, Serena. If anything has come from the past, Serena, it is a cleansing. We can have each other, we can have the beauty and the love they were denied.”
Serena listened to Justin, her whole body tense with longing. God, how she wanted to believe him.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared at him, her violet gaze demanding all. “You don’t believe a word of that, do you, Justin?”
He smiled at her softly. “No. I do not believe in reincarnation, ghosts, spooks, haunts, or spirits.”
“But, Justin, I did know about the plane. And Tom and I have often known when one or the other of us was in trouble.”
He continued smiling at her, slipping his fingers through her hair and drawing her face close to his. “I don’t deny that, Serena. There are many mind bonds that we know little about yet.”
Serena didn’t know what it was, Justin’s supreme confidence and unfaltering love, or the idea that perhaps his story held a note of truth—that maybe they were being saved by the remnants of the past rather than threatened, but suddenly she began to feel a tiny ripple of hope filtering through her body.
“Justin,” she murmured, feeling she was drowning a little in the depths of his eyes. “Aren’t you worried a little? Just a little? You never know when I’m going to pop up with something like this morning. An insight. Won’t you feel a bit like you’re married to a freak?”
“I always did think I was getting a bit of a witch,” he replied, and his comment was both dry and affectionate. “No, Serena, you don’t scare me. What you and Tom have is wonderful. And as long as you don’t start reading palms, I’ll keep you nice and sane by always following any really strong hunch you have. Except that I don’t think it will be that often. I do strongly believe in the power of suggestion—as you know—and a lot has been happening around here lately.” He drew her even closer, and he kissed her, his love, his need, and his passion clearly portrayed in a possession both fierce and tender. Thought slipped away as he held her, his tongue claiming hers, his lips and teeth bruising in their ardency. He held her head with one hand and crushed her torso against his with the other. He robbed her of strength, and then it seemed that he returned it tenfold.
Finally he pulled away. Clutching her head between splayed fingers, he stared into her eyes. “Don’t deny me, sweet witch Please! What happened to the beautiful level woman of logic? You can’t really believe that a poor murdered girl would come back to wish us harm! You can’t believe that, Serena; I don’t believe that you believe it!”
He was right, and she wanted to answer him, but she couldn’t.
His eyes darkened, and the tight, controlled fierceness of his tone continued, and he as suddenly released her and stood.
“I love you, Serena. I want you to be my wife. Everyone has problems—and most people have a few odd quirks. Now and then, yours might be a little odder than most. I don’t care. Now I have been sitting in a pile of mud for half an hour trying to talk some sense into you. I am offering you a lifetime of love that can and will combat any obstacle we come across—if we just let it. I want to work toward all the usual things. A good marriage, a nice home, maybe a dog, or maybe a cat, and two point five children—or whatever it is. I’m going to take off my very muddy clothes and jump into that pond. And you’re going to decide if you love me enough to live our lives together. And I’m warning you right now that if you do jump in the pond, you will never attempt to tell me again that you’re not going to marry me and spend your life with me. I’ll show you just what good weight lifting can do for arm strength when I turn your bewitching little rear-side red enough to last a hundred lifetimes. Got it?”
He had half torn his clothing in a vehement effo
rt to remove it. The last words were huffed out as he hopped to remove his shoes and socks.
He stood there naked and glared at her menacingly after his final words—then jumped into the pond.
Serena stared after him, incredulous at first that he would speak to her so, then angry. Then she suddenly found herself laughing because she was angry.
And then she stood up and slipped out of her clothing as she watched him swim away without a backward glance.
Because if there were a haunting of days gone past, that haunting was of love. Undeniable, beautiful, wonderful—love.
She plunged into the water after him and swam as quickly as she could, huffing and puffing for breath as she reached him. He stopped and watched her warily with a lifted brow as he tread water.
“I mean it, Serena,” he warned, “Come to me now and it’s for a lifetime. I do believe in carrying out threats.”
She laughed. “I believe you.” Her violet eyes shimmered with reflections from the water. “And I am so pleased that you decided to believe in marriage. And wherever we are, I want a nice home too. And a good marriage. And a cat first—witches are supposed to have familiars, you know. Now as to the two point five children—I really insist that we have two, or go all the way to three. The point five bit makes me a little nervous!”
He laughed and drew her into his arms, and together they swam until they could stand in the water. He kissed her again, and she felt all his hunger, all his need, all his love in that kiss. It was the same as it had been that first time, simply, beautifully right. She knew him, she knew that he would demand everything and that he would cherish her in return. For all time. …
She pressed closer to him, loving the powerful feeling of the body she knew so well against hers. The sensations were now familiar but forever erotic and wildly provocative. He trailed his hands over her naked form, and she shivered against him, anticipating.
But he suddenly chuckled and held her away. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, hazel eyes like the sun in their laughter, “you are one devilishly enticing wicked little witch, but we have to get back.”
Serena raised a brow in surprise.
“I want you to meet Jenny.”
“Jenny?”
“Yes, I had her change flights. She came in at six by a different airline.”
“Oh!” Color suddenly flooded Serena’s face. “Oh, Justin, our clothes are all muddy! I can’t meet your daughter—”
He caught her beneath the breast as he had the first day and towed her back across the pond, picking her up when he neared the shore to set her down by her clothing.
“We’ll sneak up the unhidden staircase and change.” He laughed.
“Why didn’t you tell me she was here?” Serena demanded as she stumbled back into her clothing.
“I had to have a guarantee there was going to be a wedding first,” he replied dryly, stuffing his shirt into his pants. He grabbed her arms while she was still fumbling with her shoes. “Come on.”
Serena laughed and followed him, her wet hair flying about her face. She suddenly stopped him before they could break out of the shelter of the trees. “Justin, do you suppose we could get the picture of Eleanora back from the historical society for tomorrow?”
“What?” Serena loved the wary frown that tightened his brow, the strong, relentless command that made his jaw appear like steel.
“Humor me, my love, will you?” Her eyes were bright and dazzling with a conniving plea. “I’d like to have the portrait in the parlor when we’re married. I … I think it only fair that Eleanora get to be there when we legally become man and wife.”
He continued to stare at her for a second, then his frown slowly became a twisted grin.
“Okay, I suppose I can humor you. After all, you have convinced me that one form of the occult does exist.”
“I have?” Serena murmured incredulously. “What form of the occult is that?”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips and brushed her fingers with a kiss as he locked his eyes with hers.
“Magic,” he said very softly. “This is magic. I believe in magic.”
EPILOGUE
IT WAS DUSK. SPECTRAL vision time. And as always, she was a vision, the magic of dusk, of dreams. As he opened his eyes, she was simply there, across the expanse of clear water glittering beneath the fading light of day.
She wore a cloak, a black cloak. Her eyes lifted, and she gazed upon the water.
And then she lifted thick lashes and her stunning violet stare fell upon him.
And she smiled, her lips curving full and sensually, as she held all of the secrets of twilight and of dreams.
He returned her smile, his own eyes half closing lazily with expectant delight. Outside, it was snowing. Beyond the glass enclosure of the misting pool, the weather was raw; blankets of white fell about them, misting all within the glass to combine with twilight and become …
Magic.
Her eyes lowered again; her secret smile became deeper. Then she spun about, a wealth of chestnut floating about her like a gold-tinged mantle. And as she circled she raised her arms, the black cape opened, and he saw that beneath it she was beautifully and splendidly … naked.
Her eyes touched upon his again, and in them he read the love that was such an integral part of both of them. So many things were said with that look. And he answered them all. His return smile and the brow he arched high were indicative also of a love they no longer questioned but accepted as a special gift … from time, from God.
She knew that after five years of marriage he appreciated the ritual. And yet his eyes challenged her with amusement and query. There were things to consider this time. …
But she knew that if a hearty soul should pass the glass facing the sand in the snow nothing could be seen within the enclosure.
Dusk and mist now served as a privacy shield where once the forest had been their enclosure.
And she knew, too, that they would not be disturbed from within. Tom had taken Sue and Jenny and the new baby to dinner, very carefully braving the snow to give them this time.
Dusk and twilight magic.
She felt a little thrill of laughter build within her; the stare he gave her was calm and cool … almost insolent with confidence. And yet he had to be puzzled.
She was very aware of him as she stretched high and allowed the cape to drift to the floor.
And that sultry awareness had a devastating effect. He felt everything within him tighten, burn and pulse as he watched her.
She was neither slim nor heavy, but some plane of perfection in between. Her high, very full breasts were tipped with deep rouge, proud and inviting. They lusciously curved above a long, slender ribcage that tapered neatly to a minuscule waistline, the ivory skin like satin as it dipped in twilight shadow to the hollow of her belly.
She had changed so little.
And his reactions to her had changed even less. There was something still softly innocent about her, even as she wantonly seduced him. And it was that special touch of innocence which combined with the instinctive sensuality that staggered him with a shaft of raw, shattering desire. Yet even that desire was touched by magic; it was a very male need to conquer and to dominate with selfish possession, but it was tempered by a need to cherish with a tenderness every bit as intense but which had grown in the five years of their marriage.
She raised a brow in return to his. For a second in time—or was it an eternity?—she stretched higher, the gleaming ivory of her body glistening in the soft light, and then she disappeared into the water, making its crystal surface ripple in tiny waves.
He stared at the water, then glanced at the glass enclosure. That little witch, he thought, and then he laughed with the realization that the mist shielded them.
And then he wasn’t laughing, but the heated roar of his blood suddenly became almost painful. Damn, did he need her, and it had been so long, and the invitation was so sweetly, poignantly clear.
He st
ripped off his swimming trunks, then dove into the water and caught her beneath the surface, slipping his arms around her as they kicked up together. He gave her a second for a single breath, then kissed her, a sizzling heat in the hungry touch of lips and tongue. He released her with a little objection, kicked the water with a smooth scissors kick, and brought them both to the edge of the pool.
“I’m not sure whether to throttle you straightaway or love you to death,” he murmured, his tone half threat and half groan.
“Love me,” she whispered, her eyes dazzling with the reflection of the water. “We’re completely alone.” With her words she began to plant devilish little kisses along his shoulders. He felt as if lightning sizzled his body.
“Your brother … Sue …” he stated, his words beginning to trail in spite of his best efforts. “My daughter … our son …”
“All gone. For at least three hours.”
He took her lips again, then his mouth brushed a delightful pattern along her throat and dipped beneath the water to nuzzle her breasts. She gasped with the pleasure, slipping her slender legs around him to stay above surface. He released his hold upon the tile, and they both careened downward, but his assault continued, and he slid his hands low over her spine and to her buttocks as he ran his kisses lower and lower.
Another kick brought them both back up for air, and this time he carried them to the shallow end of Tom’s Cape pool.
“Serena,” he demanded, eyes dark and stern. “Is it okay now? If you’ve driven me this crazy and I wind up hurting you …”
She closed her eyes and clung to him, almost weeping. “It’s time, my love, the exact date the doctor said was okay after the baby, and if you don’t take me soon, you will hurt me, I’ll be in agony!”
He laughed, and then he wasn’t laughing because desire very definitely could hurt. But though his blood pounded within his head and raced like fire through his system, he held himself back, kissing and caressing her within the water, thrilling ever further to her hands and lips upon his body. He intended to set the pace; it would be the first time after a long time, and as he cherished her, he played very carefully upon her body until he felt the moist welcoming heat that assured him she was ready for his ardor.
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