DREAM LOVER (18 page)

                       ***

Rachel was in the master study admiring the floor to ceiling bookshelves.  They were lined with books dating clear back to the early 1700’s, including first edition classics that would have made a collector think they’d died and gone to heaven.  It was quite an impressive collection; Dickens, Poe, Shelley, Byron, and even a copy of Bram Stoker’s
Dracula
. 

She tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like this.  So much of the mansion was still a reflection of the past with its antique furnishings, crystal chandeliers, and imported tapestries hanging on the walls.  It was almost a shame to have modernized the bathrooms and kitchen and to have added a pool, but she supposed the changes were inevitable if Nic was going to live here one day.  He hardly seemed the type to put up with a cold shower in the morning because of ancient plumbing.

Rachel let out a wistful sigh when she spotted a chaise lounge tucked in one corner of the study.  The heavy drapes were drawn, casting shadows over the whole area, but it would be sunny and quite cozy if they were opened.  She returned to sketching but her eyes kept migrating back to the corner until she finally gave into the temptation to test it out.  After pulling the drapes back and selecting a collection of poems by Christina Rossetti, she curled up on the chaise lounge and started to read. 

                        ***

Rochelle was having a lovely dream about kissing the divinely handsome Nicolo Covelli when something roused her from her sleep.  Her eyelids fluttered open and for a moment she wondered if she was having a dream inside a dream because Nicolo was leaning over her, an amused smile on his face and the devil in his eyes.

“My mother would have your hide if she found you napping on the chaise instead of tending to your housework.”

Her heart tripped when he straightened up, then held out his hand and helped Rochelle to her feet.  “You…you won’t tell her, will you?”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” he drawled lazily.  “Barely a week on the job and already slacking in your duties…”

“I was dusting the bookshelves, you see…and I found this book of poems, so I sat down to read it.  I only meant to read for a minute or two,” she rushed to explain, “but I must have fallen asleep.  Please don’t tell Mrs. Covelli.  She’ll send me away, I know she will.”

Nicolo’s eyes followed the movement of her tongue as it swept nervously over her lips.  “Do you like it here?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Why?”

Rochelle blinked, not quite sure how to answer.  “Well, it’s honest work and Estela is very patient with me.”

“What else…attracts you to the job, Miss Beaumont?”

Color seeped into her cheeks.  “The h-house is very beautiful.”

“Indeed it is, but that is not why you like it here.”  Nicolo leaned towards her.  “I have seen you watching me,” he said with a husk in his voice.  “Your eyes follow me when I walk into the room and you listen from around the doorway when the family dines.”

Her eyes widened.  “I’m not eavesdropping, I swear.”

“Are you denying that you hover when I am having a conversation at the table?”

Her cheeks were burning, a sure sign of guilt that was likely to get her fired on the spot.  “No, I don’t deny it, but it’s not what you’re saying that makes me stop to listen, it…it’s the sound of your voice.”

“The sound of my voice?” 

His obvious amusement at her discomfort piqued Rochelle’s temper.  Her chin lifted defiantly.  “Yes.  If you must know, I like how deep and masculine it is.  It’s very…pleasant.”

His brow arched.  “Pleasant?”

“Yes, and I find it pleasing to watch you too, so if my behavior offends you…”

“It does not offend me,” he cut her short.  “I enjoy watching you too, Rochelle Beaumont.”

The air around her suddenly seemed suffocating as her internal heat spiked dramatically.  Nicolo reached out and gently raked his knuckles along her cheek then proceeded to trace her lips with the pad of his thumb.  It was the most deeply disturbing feeling to have this man touch her with such familiarity, to feel the fire that was raging inside of her pool in the depths of her abdomen, and to have her heart hammering so hard she was certain it would crack her ribs.  And yet she didn’t back away or make any sound of protest as his fingers curled around the back of neck or when Nicolo lowered his head until his mouth was mere inches from hers.

“I could be persuaded not to tell my mother…for a price.”

Rochelle swayed unsteadily.  “A price,” she repeated in a breathless whisper.  “What sort of price?”

“A kiss.  One kiss from your enticing mouth, and mine shall remain sealed.”

Had she answered him?  Rochelle wasn’t sure whether she’d said yes or if she’d nodded and unwittingly given her consent.  But of course she must have because she was locked in Nicolo’s strong arms and he was stealing what little breath she had left with a slow, sensuous kiss.  He coaxed her mouth open with his tongue, devastated her with the sheer intimacy of it until her knees were so weak she would have slipped to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. 

“Meet me in the gardens tonight,” Nicolo murmured as he feathered kisses down the side of her neck.

“I can’t.  It wouldn’t be proper…” a soft moan escaped when his mouth closed over hers, but this time his kiss was hard and hungry and she felt herself drowning in it, in him.  “Yes,” she whispered feverishly, “yes, I’ll be there.”

“Eleven o’clock, after everyone has gone to bed.”

The butterflies in her stomach went wild when his lips sought hers once more and for quite some time after he’d gone Rochelle remained where she was.  If anyone had walked in they would have thought she’d lost her mind; standing there in a daze with a soft smile on her lips and her heart in her eyes.  Nicolo was everything she’d dreamed he would be, everything a woman could possibly want in a man.  Eleven o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

                        ***

Nic had given Rachel as much time as he could before his impatience got the better of him.  He figured she’d work for a few hours, maybe three, so he filled the time by exploring the bedrooms and bathrooms on the second floor,
making mental notes on the changes that would have to be made.  He planned on doing the same with all the rooms on the main floor but decided he’d have to save it for another day so he wouldn’t disturb Rachel while she was working.  That’s when he started thinking about the attic and Rochelle Beaumont’s room.

He hadn’t given it much more than a cursory glance when he’d been in there before, but since he still had time to kill, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to examine it more closely.  After lighting all three of the oil lamps positioned around the room, Nic went through the contents of her jewelry box and was surprised to discover most of the pieces were extremely expensive, even as outdated as they were.  His respect for Celia and the other women in her family had been pretty high before, but knowing that each of them in turn had left the jewelry in the box when they could have taken it without anyone being the wiser just reaffirmed how honest and loyal they all were to Rochelle’s memory.

Ignoring the twinge of guilt at going through her personal things, Nic started pilfering through the dresser drawers, carefully putting everything back the way he’d found it afterwards. Rochelle may have played the role of a housemaid around the Covelli family, but she’d obviously discarded that façade when she sneaked off to meet Nicolo, because the drawers were filled with expensive silk and lace undergarments.  Having found nothing more than clothes and a few letters from her parents, Nic wandered around the room until he came to her portrait.

He supposed she and Rachel did look alike in the most basic ways; dark hair, green eyes, even the same creamy completion, but Rochelle’s cheekbones were set a little higher and her nose wasn’t nearly as dainty as Rachel’s.  They were subtle differences and at a quick glance it was possible one could have been mistaken for the other, if not for the differences in their mouths.  Rachel’s mouth was smaller, her lips fuller, and even if he’d never gotten the chance to find out for himself, Nic would have categorized them as undeniably kissable.

It was the thought of kissing Rachel’s delectable mouth that suddenly made him feel restless to be with her.  Returning to their bedroom and finding it empty was more disappointing than he cared to admit.  A small but very selfish part of him had been hoping she’d given up trying to concentrate on work because she was just as anxious to be with him as Nic was to be with her.  He prowled around the room for awhile, examining the furniture and artwork, but when he came to the wooden carving of the eagle his pulse jumped.  What if Rachel had found another hidden doorway and gotten locked inside the walls again?

Okay, so maybe he was using that as an excuse to go look for her because he knew there was no way in hell Rachel was going to take the chance of letting that happen again.  At this point, he’d have made up just about any excuse because it had been well over three hours since he’d last seen her, and the truth was he really was starting to get concerned.  He didn’t bother with the rooms he knew she’d already sketched and after making the rounds without having located her, Nic was starting to get a little nervous.  Making a slower, more thorough sweep proved to be much more fruitful but his relief at finding Rachel in the study was short lived when she turned around and he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Nic drew her into his arms.  “What is it, Rachel?  Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing,” she sniffed.  “I’m just being overly sensitive that’s all.”

“Overly sensitive about what?”

“Rochelle and Nicolo.”  She leaned into him, nestling her cheek against his chest.  “I sat down on the chaise to take a little break and read a book of poetry I’d found and must have fallen asleep.”  Rachel told him about the dream and how Nicolo had found Rochelle sleeping on the chaise.  “This is where they first kissed and where she realized she was falling in love with him.  Oh, Nic,” she wept softly, “I could feel how strong her emotions where, how he filled her heart with so much love she could barely stand it.  It was just like when you kissed me; it was so powerful, so overwhelming and yet scary at the same time because I’d never… I mean
she
had never felt that way before.”

Nic pulled away from her.  “What are you telling me, Rachel?  Is that the way you feel about me, or the way Rochelle felt about Nicolo, because it sounds to me like you’re confusing the two.”

Rachel looked into his dark eyes and knew she couldn’t hold her emotions inside any longer, not when he was looking at her as if the hounds of hell were biting at his heels.  He didn’t have to say he loved her; it was there for her to see, hidden behind the mask of uncertainty that hovered in his eyes and the tightly clenched jaw, but still as blatantly obvious as if he’d hung a neon on sign around his neck.

“I’m not confused,” she said softly, twining her arms around his neck and pressing herself into the warmth of his body.  “I’ve fallen madly in love with you, Nic Covelli.  I was afraid to say it before because I thought it was too soon and I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way about me.”  Her lips were trembling when she smiled up at him.  “You love me too; wildly, passionately, with every breath you take, you love me.  Say it, Nic.  I need to hear it, I need to…”

Nic silenced her with a kiss that was so achingly tender it could have left no doubt as to the depth of his emotion.  “Rachel, Rachel,” he murmured her name as he plied her face with soft, feathery kisses.  “I love you so much.  I never knew it could be like this, never even imagined it was possible to love anyone the way I love you.”

“It’s so… overwhelming.”  She closed her eyes, drowning in the feel of his lips as they trailed down the side of her neck.  “I can’t seem to think of anything but you.  Even when I was supposed to be working, my mind kept wandering.  I love the way you make me feel and just want it to go on and on forever.”

Nic lifted his head and waited for Rachel to open her eyes.  “Do you think you could love me that long… forever?”

“Oh yes,” she replied in a breathless whisper.

It washed over him in waves, the enormity of what was happening between them.  Because he knew this was it, that Rachel was the woman he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.  He couldn’t imagine being without her, not now, not ever.  She was a part of him, as essential to living as the air that he breathed, and as soon as the time was right he was going to ask her to marry him.

                         ***

Rachel woke from a dreamless sleep, just as she had for the last three nights in a row.  She lay there for a long time, studying Nic’s handsome face and falling in love with him all over again.  His arm was casually thrown over her waist, but she knew if she tried to move away, Nic’s arm would curl around her possessively and pull her closer.  It suddenly occurred to her why she hadn’t dreamed of Rochelle since the day she’d dozed off in the study.  She’d been vulnerable to the nightmares because she’d felt helpless to do anything to stop them, but as long as she and Nic were sleeping in the same bed she felt safe, protected.