DREAM LOVER (2 page)

“No, I lead a very uneventful life.” 
So uneventful it was a shocker that she hadn’t slipped into a coma by now.

“No deaths in the family or close friends?  No break-ups with boyfriends or loss of a job?”

Rachel shook her head, feeling as if she should apologize for the lack of tragedies he could link the nightmares to.  He asked her several more questions, probing for the elusive trauma and when he came up empty, Dr. Agostino asked her to tell him about the nightmare.

“It’s always the same,” she told him.  “I’m in the dark, trapped in some kind of enclosure made of brick.  There aren’t any windows and no door and…” she touched her throat, alarmed to feel it constrict just as it always did in her dream.  “Could I have a glass of water before I continue?”

“Of course,” he nodded to a cooler in the corner, “help yourself, Miss Delacourte, and please…just take your time.”

Rachel gulped down the contents of the cup before refilling it and settling back into the chair.  “There’s no air in there and I’m slowly suffocating.  It’s cold too, except for a strange burning sensation in my right shoulder, and I…I know I’m going to die.”

“Do you know how you came to be in this room?”

“No…well, sort of.  I don’t know
who
exactly…but it was more than one person because while I’m waiting to die I keep thinking that
they’ve
won.  And when I finally die…”

“You actually die in the dream?” 

“Yes, is…is that bad?”

“Dreams can be interpreted many ways, Miss Delacourte, but generally speaking dying in your dream symbolizes changes in your life.  It’s not a physical death, but the ending of a phase in your life and the beginning of something new.”

Changes in her life.  Ha!  The only changes in her life over the past six years had been the gradual climb to the top of her profession.  She’d been a wonder to her parents who were just regular upper-middle class people with no special talents to speak of.  Her father was a principal at the same local high school where her mother taught history and though Rachel considered them both intelligent people; neither of them could take credit for the prodigy child they’d produced. 

Rachel had graduated from high school shortly after her fifteenth birthday and gone straight into college.  She could have chosen any career she wanted and excelled at it, and though her college counselor had encouraged her to go into a math or science related field she went with her heart and earned her Master’s degree in Architecture.  At age twenty, she’d graduate from a prestigious west coast university at the top of her class and was immediately offered a position by several of the most highly respected firms in the country.  She’d turned them all down.

Oh, they’d all done their best to coerce her into signing on; promises of ridiculously high salaries, company cars, condos and even a junior partnership were all laid out on the table.  But it wasn’t what she wanted.  Rachel wanted to make a difference and she didn’t think she could do that if she hired on at a large corporation where her talents would be confined to designing office buildings and shopping malls.  And she didn’t want anyone clipping her wings when she allowed her imagination to fly, which is why she’d declined their generous offers and accepted a position in a fledgling company with a staff that consisted of the owner, one other architect, and an overworked secretary.

“Miss Delacourte?”

Rachel blinked.  “I’m sorry, my mind tends to wander these days.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Dr. Agostino smiled at her.  “Your sleep pattern has been disrupted for quite some time and it has slowly worn your body down.  I asked if there were any changes in your life around the time the nightmare started, and it doesn’t necessarily need to be traumatic.  Any kind of change…anything that might be preying on your mind, even on a subconscious level.”

She thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding her head.  “I’m sure it has nothing to do with this but it
does
coincide with when the nightmare began.  I’m an architect and…”

“Of course,” he beamed at her.  “I thought I recognized the name.  So you’re R.J. Delacourte.  I’ve seen some of the houses you’ve designed.  They’re simply breathtaking, truly magnificent work.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said with pride, “I love what I do and it’s always nice to know someone appreciates my designs.”

“I most assuredly do, but you were saying…?”

“A year ago I was approached by Antonio Covelli and asked to restructure an old Victorian manson that had been in his family for generations.  It’s been sorely neglected and I don’t think anyone has lived in it for at least fifty years.  At any rate, I accepted the job but since I’m usually booked a good year in advance, I’m not actually scheduled to begin working on it for another month or so.”

“Are you concerned you won’t be successful in restructuring this house?”

“Not at all,” Rachel shrugged.  “As a matter of fact, I’m very anxious to begin working on it.  It’s a beautiful house, and as I’ve mentioned it’s been horribly neglected, so I’m dying to get in there and start drawing up the preliminary plans.”

Dr. Agostino nodded thoughtfully.  “Is that why you chose to come here, because of Nic Covelli’s association with the house?”

Her eyes widened in surprise.  “No, I…I hadn’t made the connection.  You see, my sister set up the appointment and I guess I didn’t even consider the possibility that Dr. Covelli might be related to Antonio.”

“Antonio is his grandfather.”

Rachel grimaced.  “I hate to even ask but…Dr. Covelli wouldn’t tell Antonio I’m his patient, would he?  Assuming I come back, that is.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Miss Delacourte.  I assure you that everyone at Lucisano Research understands the importance of patient confidentiality.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.  I know I’m probably just being overly sensitive but I’ve never told anyone about the nightmares or how…physically and mentally draining they are.  I wouldn’t want Antonio to think I’m not capable of maintaining my focus on this job.”

“Is that why you’re here, you’ve lost your focus?”

“Not on the job.”  Rachel gave him a feeble smile as a slow blush worked its way up her neck.  “It’s my personal life that’s taken a serious nose dive.”

“It’s not unusual to lose your sex drive when you aren’t getting the proper sleep your body needs.”

“My…uh…sex drive isn’t the problem.  It’s who I’m having sex
with
that’s a bit disturbing.”

“Oh?” Dr. Agostino said, obviously perplexed.

“You see, after I die I sort of have a dream within my dream, and that’s when I go to him.”

“Go to him?”

“My lover,” Rachel explained.  “I go to my dream lover.”

                       ***

Nic glanced up from the notes Luis had taken during his consultation with Rachel Delacourte.  “She actually said this?”

“Every word.”

He eyed Luis suspiciously.  “You’re sure this isn’t another one of Michael’s pranks?  It sounds like the kind of joke he’d play; paying this woman to come here and make up dreams about her erotic sexual encounters.”

“You think I didn’t check it out as soon as she left?  I pulled up some information about the Delacourte and Ross Architectural firm and it had both Todd Ross and Rachel Delacourte’s pictures posted on the website.  Besides, there was something else she told me that confirmed she wasn’t sent here by our comical partner.”

“What’s that?”

“Your grandfather hired her to restructure the old Covelli mansion.”

“Now that you mention it, I think he told me about it some time ago, but I didn’t realize he’d gone ahead and hired someone.  She doesn’t have a problem being my patient because if my connection with Grandfather, does she?”

“No.  The only thing that made her a little uneasy was having to recount her dream all over again to you but I assured her my notes would be sufficient.”

“You have her set for a dream study?”

“Tomorrow night.  I figured you could use a good night’s sleep after pulling a double yesterday.”

Nic didn’t think he could have stayed awake tonight if his life depended on it.  “I appreciate that, Luis.  I think I’ll just finish reading over your notes on Miss Delacourte and call it a day.”

After Luis had gone, Nic kicked back with his feet propped up on his desk and scanned the brief answers Rachel Delacourte had written on the form before reading the more in depth notes Luis had taken.  He found it interesting that her recurring nightmare started about the same time his had. It was even more intriguing that she was experiencing similar sexual interludes every night.

The dream is so vivid I wake up feeling as if I really have spent the night having mind blowing sex. 

Nic reread what Rachel had told Luis one more time with an eerie sense of familiarity.  Wasn’t that exactly what he’d been thinking about his own nightly encounters with the green-eyed beauty who invaded his dreams?  Rachel even admitted that she could still feel where his hands had touched her and often woke in the middle of an orgasm.  Luis noted that she seemed embarrassed by this and had assured her it was perfectly natural considering the nature of the dream. 

Nic had to give the woman kudos for having the courage to tell Luis. Especially since he’d been somewhat of a coward by not confessing the very same thing frequently happened to him.  He idly wondered what would happen if two people such as Rachel and himself got involved in a relationship with each other.  Would the dreams end or would they both wake up with ravenous sexual appetites and go at each other like animals in heat after being primed by their dream lovers?  It was an interesting thought, but one he’d definitely have to keep to himself.

Nic finished reading the rest of the narrative and jotted down a few questions to ask Rachel when he saw her tomorrow.  He was glad she was coming in on a Friday so he’d be able to take it easy the next day and catch up on some much needed sleep.  It also tended to make his patients a bit more relaxed because they weren’t worrying about missing work and consequently fell into a deeper sleep.  He closed the file and was just about to shut down his computer when curiosity about Rachel Delacourte got the better of him.

Pulling up the internet, he typed in
Delacourte and Ross
and found their home page right away.  Nic’s heart slammed against ribs when he saw the picture of Rachel smiling back at him.  She was much younger than he expected and was also undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.  But that wasn’t what made his heart vibrate inside his chest like a jack hammer or why the air had suddenly been sucked out of his lungs.  He leaned closer to the screen, studying every familiar feature of her face.

He’d never met Rachel, but he knew her intimately all the same.  His fingers had sifted through her silky dark hair, traced the line of her delicate jaw, caressed her soft skin.  He’d kissed her perfect mouth and gazed into her jade green eyes every night as he sank into the warmth of her body.  He’d woken with her scent filling his senses and his mind reeling from the heated passion they’d shared.  Rachel wasn’t just the type of woman dreams were made of; she was the woman
his
dreams were made of.  Night after night she came to him while he slept and made love to him in his dreams.

For a year now she’d haunted him, consumed his mind both day and night, and it made Nic wonder…was
he
the one haunting Rachel Delacourte’s dreams as well?

Rachel perched on the edge of the chair, her back rigid as a board while her eyes roamed around the office of Nic Covelli.  The
small delay
the nurse informed her about had turned into a thirty minute wait, which only added to her anxiety and made her wish she’d cancelled altogether.  It hadn’t occurred to her until after she’d checked in that while Dr. Covelli was monitoring her brain waves and analyzing the cause of her nightmares, he’d also be observing her while she slept. 

It was bad enough that he’d witness her thrashing around and calling out for someone to save her, but once the dream migrated from the twilight zone to the erogenous zone…Rachel shuddered to think what the good doctor would have to say about
that
.  What if the throaty moans and cries of ecstasy she made in her dreams actually erupted from her mouth while she slept? Or worse, what if she simulated the act of making love by gyrating her hips and squirming around like a fish caught on a hook?  It was mortifying to say the least.

She’d just have to keep reminding herself why she was here in the first place and that Dr. Covelli was a professional who probably dealt with things like this all the time.  Well…maybe not
all
the time, Rachel conceded.  After all, why would anyone want to put a stop to dreams that made you wake up feeling as if you’ve just been made love to by the sexiest man God ever created?  Just thinking of him made her skin tingle and the muscles in her abdomen clench.  It was a shame the dreams of him and the nightmare were connected because she couldn’t honestly say she wanted them to end.

She seriously contemplated making up some lame excuse about a family emergency and high tailing it out of there but the thought of having to explain to her sister, Monica, why she’d bailed was enough to keep her planted firmly in her seat.  Monica was a royal pain in the ass but she was also genuinely concerned about Rachel and she could hardly fault her baby sister for that, even if she
did
think Monica was overreacting.