Before I Wake (12 page)

“It makes me sad,” I told him.

He nodded, and I noticed his shoulders slump a little, as though relieved that I didn’t say more. “It’s supposed to,” he replied, then his hand gave a gentle push on my back. “This way.”

We made it maybe three or four feet when we were stopped by a very tall man. He was fair-skinned with dark hair, dark eyes, a long nose, and a small mouth. Not classically handsome, but attractive nevertheless. Noah’s fingers pressed into the small of my back.

“Noah,” the man said, flashing a smile in my direction. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have to leave. I’ll meet you after the show, all right?”

Noah nodded. “Warren, this is Dawn Riley. Dawn, this is my brother, Warren.”

I had heard Noah mention Warren before. I knew that Noah’s mother had married Warren’s father after moving to New York when Noah was in his early teens. Dr. Edward Clarke had adopted Noah shortly after the marriage. And I knew that there was also a half sister named Mia. Other than a few other basics, Noah hadn’t told me much about his family, but I had the distinct impression that he was very close to each member of it.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, taking the hand he offered—it dwarfed mine.

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he replied in a smooth, deep voice that matched his stature. “I hear you’re a psychologist?”

To finally meet me? “Yes. I work at the MacCallum Center.”

He nodded, eyes sparkling, smile charming. “I went to school with Dr. MacCallum’s son.”

“Warren’s a psychiatrist,” Noah informed me, moving closer to me as he cast a small smile at his brother. Our legs touched. “He’s been trying to shrink my head for years.”

This was obviously not just an old joke between them, but a sore spot as well. Warren grinned at me. “I hope you have better luck than I have, Dawn.”

I pretended to study Noah. It wasn’t difficult given the subject. “I don’t know. I think maybe his head is fine just as it is. Of course, it does look a little big…”

We all had a laugh, easing the tension between the two men. Was it just wishful thinking, or had Noah been not so subtle in marking me as his territory in front of his brother? Warren left after telling me again that it was nice to meet me. Noah steered me onward, and we finally reached our destination.

We were at the back of the gallery, standing at the middle of the wall. Here hung a huge canvas that was titled The Nightmare.

Underneath in smaller script it read “artist’s private collection.”

I was almost afraid to look up, but look up I did. Noah stood beside me, silent and expectant, as I took in every detail I could before shock rushed over me.

It was me.

There was no denying it. The woman in this portrait might have been beautiful, but she had my face, which was weird because I didn’t see myself that way. She was dressed in a flowing white gown, her dark hair—sable, burnt umber, and titian, I’d bet—hung full and loose around her shoulders. Her skin was creamy and luminescent, her lips full and rosy, and her eyes were large and such a strange shade of aqua that they seemed to glow within her face.

Was this how Noah saw me?

The me in the painting was bent over a bed. On it slept a man, his back to the viewer, but I knew from the musculature and from the spiky black hair that it was Noah. The woman in the painting smiled serenely as she gently stroked the man’s hair. She was comforting him. Protecting him.

“What do you think?” There was genuine interest in his tone, and just a hint of challenge—as though he wanted me to deny it.

I turned to Noah, trembling. I was shaken more than I could possibly express. “It’s beautiful,” I managed to whisper. And it was, there was no denying that.

He was watching me carefully. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

I nodded. I felt a little hollow—numb. “How…How did you know?” No point in beating around the bush. No point in trying to pretend the truth wasn’t there. And here I’d been worried about how much to tell him.

“That thing in my dreams. It told me. You’re some kind of guardian for dreamers?”

I nodded. I tried to think of something to say that would make this all make sense. Noah seemed to be taking it all in stride. He was the one who should feel as though his world had just fell off its axis. Not me.

“Noah?” A soft female voice fell between us. “Who’s your friend?”

There were two of them. One was a teenager with coloring similar to Noah’s and enough of a resemblance that I figured out immediately that she was his half sister, Mia. The other was a petite, pretty blonde. She was almost as tall as I was in her high heels and several sizes smaller—of course. Her dress looked expensive, as did everything else about her.

Normally she would have cowed me, but I was still in shock from the painting and Noah knowing what I was.

Meanwhile, Noah looked at the pair of them as though he wished they would just disappear. I didn’t miss the sharp glance he shot his sister, and I knew then and there that Mia didn’t want her brother anywhere near any woman but this little blonde. “Mia, Amanda, this is Dawn. Dawn, this is my sister Mia, and Amanda.”

Mia flashed me a falsely bright smile. “Amanda is Noah’s wife.”

“Ex,” Noah growled. “Ex-wife.” I’d never heard a man growl before. It might have been sexy if I hadn’t been trying to keep from literally falling on my ass. Noah knew my secret, and he was married. Married!

No, wait. He wasn’t married according to him. Not anymore. He had never mentioned Amanda to me. Ever.

I needed a drink.

Mia gave me a look that could only be seen as triumphant. She saw me as a threat. Should I be flattered or just smack her like I wanted? She smiled at me, even as Noah shrugged her off. “Semantics,” she chirped.

Noah looked at her as though he could cheerfully strangle her. His movements were slow and controlled as he drew away from her. That hurt her, I could tell, but she hadn’t come to us to win her brother’s affection. She was there to chase me off because she obviously wanted him back together with Amanda.

I actually felt sorry for Amanda at that moment. There was no hiding her discomfort. And there was no hiding that Noah was uncomfortable as well. In fact, the only one of us who wasn’t uncomfortable was Mia—the brat.

And this was just way too weird for me.

“It was nice to meet you,” I lied. “Excuse me, but I have to go.” I pivoted on my heel and began walking as fast as I could toward the man who had taken my coat. I didn’t care if Mia thought she had scared me off. I didn’t care if Noah thought she had scared me off either. If I was scared of anything, it was the realization that Noah knew what I was. What if he expected me to protect him in his dreams? Protect him from Karatos?

Too much responsibility, that was.

A hand clamped around my arm when I reached the center of the gallery. No doubt much of the crowd who noticed found it very interesting, Noah chasing some freaked-out woman across the gallery.

“Doc, stop.”

I kept moving. I wonder how many others would notice if I dragged him all the way to the door?

“Dawn.”

That was all it took—the sound of him saying my name. The plea in his husky voice stopped me as sure as a brick wall. I was a weak, weak woman.

I turned to face him. That was my second mistake. Coming to the gallery at all had been my first. He wore an earnest expression.

At least he wasn’t laughing at me. Not on the outside at any rate.

I met his dark gaze, wallowed in it a little and waited for him to say something.

“Amanda and I divorced two years ago.” Oh great. So he knew I had a thing for him, too. What was this guy, a freaking mind reader?

“That’s generally what ‘ex’ means.” I sounded all cool and collected. Yayee me.

He didn’t even blink. My remark just bounced off whatever armor it was that he wore. It took a lot of practice to get so removed, and of course, I wondered what had caused it.

“My sister has had trouble adjusting.”

It was such a blatant understatement that I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it. “Really?”

Noah smiled too. “Stay.” Somehow, he made it a request not a command. “Some of us are going out after the show. Come with us.”

Another one of those commands that sounded more like an invitation. “We do have a lot to talk about,” I remarked weakly. Who was I trying to kid? I wanted to spend more time with him even though I knew it was dangerous.

His hand moved up my arm. “Say you’ll stay. That you’ll come with me later.”

My mind firmly in the gutter, I just about expired at his last remark. I nodded, despite protests from my brain. “I’ll stay.” Notice I purposefully avoided saying anything about coming.

Noah smiled. I was feeling pretty full of myself at that moment. So much so that when I caught Mia watching us with narrow-eyed interest, I grinned at her. I am so mature.

Noah kept me pretty close for the rest of the evening. I’m not sure if he was afraid I’d bolt if he didn’t keep me by his side or if he genuinely wanted me there. What did it matter? I allowed myself to relax and enjoy the evening. I met new people, some of whom were actually interesting and unaffected.

You might be surprised at how many people found my job fascinating. I was. I lost count of how many times I was asked what I thought a particular dream meant. One older gentleman drew me into a debate over Freud vs. Jung. Noah, the ass, didn’t even try to save me. He just smiled that little smile and offered me a glass of champagne. I grinned like an idiot as I took it from him.

Someone came along and drew him away from me, and I turned away, not wanting to eavesdrop.

“I hear you’re a psychologist.”

I looked up. Or rather, I looked down—right into the chocolate brown eyes of Noah’s sister.

I tried not to go rigid, to not show any reaction at all. “I am.”

Relief washed over her face. “So you’re Noah’s doctor, not his girlfriend.”

Maybe I should have been insulted, but I wasn’t. There was nothing wrong about this kid’s loyalty to her former sister-in-law.

“Noah’s helping me with a project.”

“What project?”

I was pretty sure Noah wouldn’t want me discussing him with his sister. “It’s a personal study I’m doing.”

She frowned slightly at that. “Does he ever talk about Amanda?”

“I can’t answer that.” Oh, but I wanted to tell her no. Nonononono. No!

Her eyes were angry as she looked up at me, as though I was somehow to blame for all her unhappiness. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—answer her questions even if I wanted to. Everything Noah told me was confidential. “Did he mention the affair?”

Affair? No. No he hadn’t. Whose affair? Amanda’s or his? My surprise must have shown on my face because Mia smiled—gloatingly. “I guess not. He can’t think that much of you if he hasn’t told you about that.”

I stared at her. Noah’s sister or not, this girl was a brat. No, she was too old for that. She was well on her way to becoming a bitch. “I really can’t discuss Noah with you. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t help adding, “But he and I are going out later, so maybe we’ll get a chance to talk about it then.”

She glared at me and flounced away in a huff. I’d never seen anyone ever flounce in real life. Aside from Miss Piggy on the Muppets, I’d never seen anyone flounce at all. Mia did it very well.

“Sorry ’bout that.” Noah came up beside me as he spoke. From his expression, it was obvious that he had heard at least part of the exchange.

I shrugged. “She wants life to be the way it was, and every woman you talk to is a threat to that.”

“Not every woman,” he informed me with a gaze that had me hot right down to my toes. “Just you.”

“Uh…” My eyelashes fluttered, and not in a flirtatious way either, but rather more spastic. “Okay.”

He grinned. “You don’t see it, do you?”

I blinked, eyelashes firmly under control once more. “See what?”

He moved behind me, hands on my shoulders. Oh God, he had lovely hands. The warmth from them seeped through my clothes and skin, right into my bones. He turned me to the right, so that I was facing the back of the gallery and the painting he had done of me.

“Her,” he murmured in a warm chocolate voice near my ear. I shivered. Couldn’t help it. The me in the painting just kept smiling.

“When I look at you, I see her. You see someone else. Someone less. You shouldn’t.”

His hand slid down my arms, rubbing the soft cashmere against my goose-bumped flesh. I was tingling in all the right places, and some I hadn’t even known existed.

As Noah stood in front of me once more, his eyes were black and bright as his gaze met mine. His cheeks flushed, and his lips parted. “Christ, Doc. Don’t look at me like that.”

I knew then that Mia was right to see me as a threat, because if we had been anywhere other than a crowded gallery, Noah would have kissed me right then. Kissed me and anything else I let him do. And I would be tempted to let him do anything he damn well wanted, even though his ex-wife had raised a niggling doubt in the back of my mind. See, I’m real big on trust, especially given my mother’s infidelity and what it had done to my family.

“Who had the affair?” I asked, a little breathlessly. “Amanda or you?”

The heat in Noah’s eyes died a quick death, replaced with shock and yes, a little hurt. “Who told you about that?”

Did he really need to ask? “Mia.”

“Fuck.” Noah looked away, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he made sure there was no one close enough to hear us. Hands on his narrow hips, he was tense, a little scary and way too sexy. He swung his head back to face me. “What else did she tell you?”

“She just asked if I knew.” Now that I thought about it, she had probably brought it up knowing this would be his reaction.

He stared at me, as though trying to get inside my head. I held his gaze, keeping my posture and expression relaxed and open. I didn’t want him to feel judged, but I couldn’t even entertain the idea of getting involved with him if I thought I couldn’t trust him.

“She did.” His voice was little more than a whisper. His gaze was flat. “Satisfied?”

Whoa. A lot of anger there—and entirely misdirected. I lifted my chin. “My mother screwed around on my father. I was the result.”