Deep Midnight
Page 17

She smiled, because he was stubborn, and this was a dream, so of course he could come to her.
“Steven ...”
A dream, filled with clouds, and the memories of a slow-burning warmth that could destroy the very concept of winter. She smiled, reaching out.
The clouds seemed to swirl and stir.
She was staring into the strange, copper-penny shine of the eyes of a wolf.
The animal was enormous. It seemed to loom in the window frame. The animal snarled, lips pulling taut, canine teeth luminescent.
“Jordan, the damned wolf is in the way,” Steven said.
“There are no wolves in Venice,” she told him. “Only big dogs.” The clouds seemed to be streaming around both Steven and the wolf. It was snowing, and the snow was cold, blustering against her skin.
She woke with a start.
She nearly screamed aloud.
A man was standing above her. She was still seated by the window; the man was bowing low to her, he was nothing but a dark form . ..
“Jared!” she exclaimed.
He jerked up, giving himself a shake.
“Jared!” Jordan reached over and flicked on the lamp by the chair.
He was in long flannel pajama pants; his chest bare. For a moment, he looked disconcerted, as if he had been sleepwalking.
Then, he looked uncomfortable. He stared at the window and moved away. Frowning, Jordan glanced out.
It was snowing in Venice. Tiny crystaline snowflakes, drifting in the window.
She looked back at her cousin. “Jared, are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. “I was worried about you.”
“Why?”
“I tapped to make sure that you had come up and were okay. But you didn’t answer.” She looked quickly around at her door. It was closed. She stared at Jared. “I locked the door,” she told him.
He shrugged, edging back toward it. “It was open.”
“I swear, I locked it.”
“Slide the bolts.” It seemed as if he didn’t want to be near the window.
Of course not It was actually snowing, in Venice. Something that didn’t happen all that often.
Jared had a decent chest. He was tall and slim, had good shoulders and a wiry, athletic appearance.
Now, there were goose bumps all over his flesh.
“It’s a good thing I came in,” he told her, sounding firm now that he had gotten away from the window.
“You might have had pneumonia by morning! Lock those shutters, and close the window! And get under some blankets.”
Because his commands made sense, she obeyed them, then stared back at him.
“Jared, I’m sure I locked the hallway door.”
“Maybe you thought you locked it but didn’t.”
She nodded and shivered.
“Get in bed, Jordan, I’ve been really worried about you. Please don’t come down with an awful flu or cold.”
She smiled. “Jared,” she told him, coming his way and setting her hands on his ice cold shoulders, “I’m fine. I am going to bed. I’m going to snuggle under the covers and sleep late.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I had a good time tonight.”
He looked unhappy. “I’m glad.”
She stepped back, frowning. “Why don’t you look like you’re glad?”
“Because ... I shouldn’t have let you come here. I shouldn’t have brought you to the contessa’s party ...
I shouldn’t have ...”
“I’m all right.”
She wasn’t all right. She was dreaming about her dead fiancé and wolves that stood in the shadows in streets.
No matter what happened, or what she imagined, she wasn’t going to tell Jared about it.
“I’m fine, and I’m having a great time,” she told him. She waved a hand in the air. “I m angry about the contessa’s sense of entertainment, but when I see her again, I swear I’ll be charming and cause no more trouble.”
He shook his head, wetting his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Jared, quit, it’s all right. Go back to bed.”
“You don’t understand. I’m really sorry.”
“Jared, you’re my cousin, my best friend, blood relation, all that. I love you. Now get out of my room and go to bed.”
He studied her, nodded, and turned to leave. At the door, he hesitated, looking back. “Get over here and bolt the door.”
“Yessir.”
When he was gone, she carefully locked the door, making sure he heard the sound.
“Go back to your wife!” she said.
“Hey!” he whispered against the door. “Watch it, will you? Do you know what that sounded like?” Jordan laughed. “Yes, and you must look great out there, too. Get to your room!”
“Goodnight.”
When he was gone, Jordan found that she was wide awake. She flicked on the television, wondering if she could get anything this late at night There was an Italian game show on. She couldn’t understand the language of the enthusiastic contestants, but the game had to do with answering questions and losing pieces of clothing and then getting into a whipped cream fight.
She left the television on and crawled into bed.
The lamp was still on, dispelling the shadows.
She decided to sleep, for what remained of the night, with the light on.
Cindy Riley woke suddenly. She didn’t know why. For a moment, she stared into the darkness of the room.
Instinctively, she reached across the bed.
Jared wasn’t with her. Yet the moment she realized this, she saw that he was in the room. He had opened the window to the night, and stood there, despite the chill, staring out at Venice.
“Jared?”
“I woke you, I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, no, you didn’t wake me,” she protested. She got out of bed and walked around to where he stood, laying her cheek against his back as she slipped her arms around him. “You’re freezing!” she told him. “What are you doing, standing here like this?”
He was silent a moment, then said, “It’s snowing. It doesn’t snow that often in Venice.”
“It’s white wet stuff,” Cindy said. “You’ve seen it before.”
“Not in Venice.”
“Jared .. . you’re freezing.”
“I know,” he said, almost as if he were confused by that fact.
“Come back to bed, I’ll warm you up.”
He turned with a sudden fervor that startled her. “Will you? I am cold, so very, very cold.” There was something about him . ..
They’d been married for years. Good years, because they were good together. She loved him, liked him, enjoyed his company, and very much enjoyed their sex life. They had been together for years. Still, tonight. . .
His arms seemed stronger. The tension in him seemed to leap through his flesh, no matter how cold he seemed. The simple touch of his hands upon her shoulders felt erotic.
They’d made love that evening. Coming up from the espresso they had shared downstairs, they’d been warm and familiar and had fallen easily into bed, kissing, petting, slipping naturally into the act of love.
This ... suddenly seemed almost illicit Erotic, exciting ... and it was just the feel of his body beneath her fingers, and the way his hands felt on her shoulders ... and the way he looked at her, something in his eyes ...
The window remained open. Cold air was sweeping in. He leaned down and kissed her with hard, wet, opened mouth, passion that belied the ice of his flesh. She felt his teeth graze hers, the length of his tongue seemed to sweep to her gullet, and it was like shooting a lightning rod straight down to every erotic zone in her body. A second later he was lifting her. When she hit the bed, her nightgown was already halfway ripped from her body.
Small loss . ..
His lips, his tongue were everywhere. Along her throat, her collarbone. Electric. She started shaking, not from the cold but from the eagerness aroused within her.
“My God, what were we drinking tonight?” she murmured.
He didn’t reply. He was between her thighs. She went into spasms of ecstasy, trying to throw off everything around her, she was so on fire. She felt the graze of his teeth. He was growing too forceful ...
almost painful... in his ardor. She wanted to whisper a protest. She couldn’t; her voice wouldn’t come, and she was shaking violently as orgasms pounded through her system. He rose above her, and she could wrap her limbs around him quickly enough. Dimly, she wondered if the whole of the bed was shaking, if the people in the room beneath wouldn’t waken, and think that the roof above them was about to fall in ...
Later, she didn’t know how much later?if the passion they shared had raged through the night or lasted no more than a few volatile minutes?she felt the cold again. By then, Jared was crushed to her side, still panting.
“The window,” she murmured.
“Um.”
“The window. It’s freezing.”
He still didn’t move. She leaped up, stark naked, and rushed over to the window, drawing in the shutters first and securing them, then closing the heavy glass window. Shivering and bare, she wrapped her arms around herself, then decided to make a pit stop before flying back into the warmth of the bed. She closed herself into the bathroom?never being one to assume that such necessary things needed to be shared in marriage?and when she was done she washed her hands and doused her face with water. Looking into the mirror above the sink, she was startled to see thin scratches on her neck, and the slightest trickle of blood from one of her breasts. There was a streak of the stuff on one of her thighs as well.
She washed up quickly. The little cuts were nothing at all.
Turning off the light, she scampered across the room and flew back into the bed, wrapping the covers around her. She slipped her arms around her husband again. For a moment, he didn’t move. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, or with his eyes closed, she wasn’t even sure, it was so dark to her since she’d been in the bright light of the bathroom.