Broken Serenade (21 page)

   
As their panting subsided gradually, they dove into each other’s eyes, mesmerized, trying to find an explanation to what had just happened between them. From the silent dialogue of their gazes, they realized that the feeling they both had was unique. That supreme moment, they had become addicted one to the other.  

   
“I knew it,” he finally spoke, still breathing hard. “I’ve always known that you were my woman.” 

   
“No, my darling,
I
was the first to know it. You wouldn’t believe it fifteen years ago,” she contradicted him.

   
“You’re wrong, my love. I believed you… Why do you think I gave you the gift?”

   
“Hmmm, you mean that… scarf?” she asked, a shadow of sadness altering her glowing face. “Is that how you wanted your bride to come to you on the wedding night, covered only with that piece of fine silk?” 

     “Hmm, keep that in mind
for future foreplay, my darling. It’s a brilliant idea! Unfortunately, it didn’t cross
my mind
,” he said, pressing his scorching lips on her small waist, fascinated by the softness of it. “What scarf, my love?”

   
“The yellow scarf you gave me at your wedding.”

    “I do
n’t recall giving you any scarf, sweetheart. And yellow is not really my favorite color.
This
is what I gave you in that small Tiffany box,” he said, brushing his lips against her delicate ankle still adorned with the golden anklet. Under his hot breath, the fatty little gold hearts hit one another, producing a joyful clink.

   
“No, no, no,” Vivien smiled clemently. “That is from granny Carol. She gave it to me at my twenty-first birthday.”

   
Timothy stopped his kissing her. He carefully took her anklet off.

   
“No, please,” Vivien groaned. “Call me superstitious if you’d like, but I have a strange feeling of… overwhelming loneliness when I don’t wear it.”

   
“That’s because it is from me. But now, that I’m with you, you’ll only feel my love,” he assured her confidently. He dropped the anklet by the bed, and visibly aroused again, he embraced her with passion.

   
“I want you, Vee… Let’s make love again. And tell me,” he asked, moaning and sliding slowly inside her warm and welcoming body. “Are you feeling alone… now?” 

   
“Hmmm, no Tee… I feel anything but alone… Actually, I’ve never been happier… Ever,” she admitted, moving her thighs, eager to enter his rhythm.

   
They made love again and again, like two crazy people obsessed with one another. They kissed, touched, explored, tasted, and pleasured each other for hours, until their fatigued bodies gradually started to give in to a certain physiological sensation. Vivien was the first to complain.

   
“I’m hungry like a wolf,” she recognized, embarrassed. “If I don’t receive nourishment immediately, I’m afraid I’m going to eat you, my darling!”

     “You’l
l be very disappointed, my dear. I am tough, old meat…” Timothy chuckled, flexing his athletic body under her weight. “I, on the other hand, would be thrilled with young, fresh, sweet you,” he added, kissing her face. “So, love,
you
might want to reconsider your first choice of dinner tonight.” 

   
“I can see that,” she agreed, tracing soft, waving lines on the well-defined muscles of his abdomen with her long and delicate fingers. She bit her lower lip and swallowed hard. In the end, she succumbed to the temptation and let her red and swollen lips follow the invisible traces of her fingers.

   
“If you don’t stop that right this second, you’ll never eat tonight,” Timothy threatened, letting out a tormenting, sensual sigh.

   
Vivien jumped from the bed.

   
“Ok, we need to solve this stringent problem,” she declared in a decisive tone.

   
“I hope McDonald’s is still open,” Timothy suggested.   

   
“No, my darling, we don’t have to go that far,” she replied and quickly put on a white lace mini nightgown that hugged tightly every curve of her sexy body. “We only have to make it to the kitchen.”

   
“If you dress like that, I’m going to choke.”

   
“Come along, Tee darling,” she smiled tantalizingly. “I labored in that kitchen all morning and afternoon today.”

   
“Seriously?” he asked in disbelief. He suspected Vivien of making fun of him.
There should be at least milk and cereal in that immaculate kitchen
, he thought optimistically.

    Wrapping a huge bath towel around his waist,
Timothy followed Vivien out of the bedroom, barefoot, as she was.

    “If you had so much work to do, why didn’t you call for help,” he joked.

    “Whom?”

    “Me!”

    “You cooking? I can hardly picture you chopping onions and parsley!” She giggled and put a kiss on his chest. His arm circled her waist, and he pulled her closer. 

   
I too have difficulty to imagine a girl like you sweating over the stove
, Timothy wanted to add.

   
“I would scrap floors only to be with you,” he declared sincerely.

    “No, you wouldn’t!”

    “Ok, I wouldn’t. I would pay someone to do it for you, and I would take you with me everywhere I go.”

    “That sounds more like you,”
she concluded, as they reached the kitchen.

   
When she opened the refrigerator, he staggered, taken by surprise.

    “Wow, Vee! That looks amazing,” he exclaimed
, licking his chops.

   
Glass bowls full of salads, sauces, steamed veggies, and mashed potatoes crowded the shelves. A large porcelain platter with baked chicken strips made him salivate.  

   
“Here is vegetable soup made with tomatoes and chicken broth,” Vee explained, pointing to a medium size pot. “But I think that a simple snack would be more appropriate at this late hour.”

   
“Vee, all cards on the table now! Do you have someone who cooks for you?” Tee inquired, obviously impressed with what he was seeing. It was almost impossible for him to believe that a young, beautiful, and sophisticated woman like Vee would make such a sacrifice.

    “No, silly! I told you,
I cook. It’s healthy, relaxant, and even therapeutic, I could say.”

   
“I’m…I’m humbled, speechless…and undeniably starved,” he admitted, taking out the chicken platter.

   
He put it on the table, chose the largest piece from the pile, and started to chew with great satisfaction.

   “Hmm, this chicken is a culinary delight! My darling, you evolved wonderfully! What were you offering fifteen years ago? Peanut butter sandwiches and soft-boiled eggs. Remember? You know, I always thought of you when eating peanut butter sandwiches and soft-boiled eggs.”   

   
“You insufferable gourmand! That’s why you didn’t want to marry me then. Because I couldn’t cook! Not well enough for your refined taste, anyway. I couldn’t offer you… variety…”

   
“Correct! But now, I have no reasons at all not to marry you, my girl. That is, of course, if you’re still interested in an old dog like me.”    

    “You didn’t seem
so old a little while ago! On the contrary,” she smiled, biting her lower lip again in an absolutely maddening, sexy way. She deliberately ignored his hasty and unconventional marriage proposal.
You’ve got to work a little harder
to
get my answer
, Vivien though
t
.
      

   
Timothy hugged her hard. She laughed on his chest, and then she lifted her face to look at him.

   
“You’re playing with fire, Vee,” he whispered, his voice husky with passion. “Dressed like that… with those savory lips and those gorgeous eyes… Hell, woman, I’m tempted to have you again, right here, right now.”

   
For an instant, her gaze seemed to dare him to do it. Then she changed her mind and replied quickly.

   
“If you do that, I’m afraid we’ll both pass out, victims of inanition in a kitchen full of food.”  

   
A few minutes later, their tummies content, they were brushing their teeth in the bathroom, leaning embraced over one of the twin sinks. 

   
“Really, Vee, the anklet you’re so fond of wearing is from me. It’s the gift I gave you fifteen years ago. I’m absolutely sure of that. It is unique, I’ve had it personalized. On the back of the third heart, it is engraved:
To the woman of my dreams, T.
Am I right? Do you think your grandmother would’ve inscribed such a dedication on a piece of jewelry for her granddaughter?” 

   
Vivien spitted some of the toothpaste.

   
“All hearts have a roses design etched on both sides,” she mumbled.

   
“Not the third,” Timothy argued. “It looks like it’s a rose too, but it is not. Believe me! I would be able to recognize it in a thousand of anklets!”  

   
Vivien rinsed her mouth.

   
“Ok, we’ll check it out,” she said, intrigued, and she vanished for a few seconds. She returned with an antique, fancy magnifier and picked up the anklet from beside the bed. She brought it into the bathroom and studied it meticulously in the light.   

   
“Oh my God, I…I can’t believe it!” she uttered perplexed. “Tee, you’re right!” She paused, absorbed in her own thoughts. “But then, why did I find a yellow scarf in the Tiffany box you gave me? Who put it there and why?” Vivien asked, frowning. “Unless… someone intends to make me suspect you of killing Arlene… at least… and implies that you’re responsible for other murders also…”     

   
“What would someone obtain by doing that?’ Timothy questioned. “I doubt that we have common enemies. I could’ve made a few over the years. But it’s hard for me to believe that they hate me that much to pin on me a horrible murder I have or had nothing to do with. It’s absurd to suspect something like that, Vee,” he insisted, trying to calm her down. Still, a growing feeling of foreboding threatened to cloud his newly found happiness.        

    Just before leaving the office that early evening, d
etective Leonard had called him and had given him some disquietingly strange news. An anonymous phone call was placing Timothy and his car at the scene of the terrible accident that Igor had suffered. The architect had assured the detective that he had been at the firm that entire day. In fact, he had never left the office in his car that day, and all his staff could testify to that. They had been working together on an important new project. The detective had not insisted. In the end, he had apologized politely and had promised to take Timothy out for a drink sometime soon to rewind high school memories.

    N
ow, as he added that phone conversation with Art Leonard to Vivien’s revelation, something didn’t seem right. Moreover, if he included in the matter those disgusting emails received lately and his business partner’s suicide still fresh in his mind, Timothy could have obtained the perfect recipe for stress and insomnia. But tonight, Vivien’s delightful presence, full of love and passion, made him feel immune to anything bad. He didn’t want to think of anything else but the two of them and their perfect love tonight.   

   
“I need to take a shower, Tee,” Vivien announced, yawning and peeling off her little nightgown. She didn’t say another word, but her inviting smile spoke volumes.

    “I’ll join
you to help,” he whispered and let the heavy towel from around his waist drop at his feet. “I can’t wait to lather your splendid body. Every inch of it…”

CHAPTER 18

     
 
T
he music came from the living room, adagio at first, but then it grew louder and stronger. Fully awake now, Vivien listened carefully as the composition climbed harmoniously, gradually pushed by musical notes hit with the skill of a master. The continuous crescendo finally reached the culminant point. It was the manner of interpretation in particular that raised icicles on Vivien’s spine. It frightened her more than the realization that a stranger had entered her house in the middle of the night. Her throat tightened from fear, threatening to suffocate her. A cold perspiration covered her body under the sheets. She reached to turn on the night lamp, but discovered that she had no electricity. The clock on her nightstand was dead. Panic paralyzed her.
I’ve got to get out of here…
She jumped off the bed. Her heart pumped madly.
Shubert’s Serenade has four more minutes until the end.
If it were whom Vivien suspected it was, that person would not stop in the middle of the song. She would play it until the very final musical note.
There is time. I must see her first, I must be sure that she
is here indeed
, Vivien thought, forcing her lead feet out of the bedroom. In the hallway, she dropped on her knees and crawled to the entrance of the living room. A weak light flickered anemically somewhere in the area where she had her piano.