Titanic's Ondine (5 page)

“John?”

“Whatever is going on with you, it’s not worth this,” he gasped.

Physical pain snatched his breath away.

“Come with me, and we’ll talk it out.”

His teeth chattered as he pleaded with her. He made to swim toward her, but his body, in shock, refused to comply.

As his head dipped under the water, a terrible sense of déjà vu crowded in on him.

A hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and he felt himself being pulled to the surface.

“Don’t you do this to me again!” Madeleine practically screamed in his face.

In his mind, he wondered about her words, but he couldn’t summon the energy to form a question out loud.

His thoughts began to drift, as did his body, and he gave himself up to the floating sensation. Images flitted behind his closed eyelids, images that didn’t make sense—he and Madeleine together but in a different time, a different place. He saw himself with her, laughing, talking, even making love, and if that was the last thing he would ever think of, he would die a happy man.

“John, help me please.”

Madeleine’s plaintive voice filtered into his subconscious and yanked him out of the enjoyable daydream. Coming to, he realized she was trying to haul him out of the water onto the bank.

With all the strength he could muster, he pulled himself onto dry land and collapsed.

“Some rescuer I turned out to be,” he said, making a weak attempt at a joke.

Tears ran freely down Madeleine’s face.

“I don’t pretend to understand what’s happening here, Madeleine, but we’ll go back to my room, get cleaned up, and talk about it. Okay?”

She nodded, and, in complete silence, they dripped their way back to the hotel.

Chapter Six

Madeleine hovered by the bedroom door. John couldn’t blame her for her hesitation; he was a stranger after all, but, with all they’d been through in such a short time, he hoped she trusted him enough to realize he wouldn’t take advantage of her.

“Won’t Nancy be wondering where you are?” she asked.

“Knowing my sister, she will be out for the night. She’s a party girl with a built-in radar for finding the hottest nightclubs in whatever city she happens to be passing through at the time. Besides, I can’t call her even if I wanted to.”

John took his waterlogged phone from his pocket and shook the residue of the River Lagan onto the hotel carpet.

“But, I mean, if she comes back and finds me here . . . .”

He wasn’t sure if her concerns were for her own reputation or his, but Nancy certainly wasn’t the sort to be fazed at finding two adults together in a hotel room, in whatever capacity. Surprised to find her brother involved in anything outside of his work perhaps, but definitely not fazed.

“We have separate rooms. As brother and sister, we’re close but not that close.” He smiled and beckoned her into the hotel room. “She doesn’t need to know anything of what went on out there, if that’s what worries you.”

That assurance proved enough for Madeleine to enter, and he retrieved a neatly folded towel from the closet and handed it to her.

“You can use the bathroom to dry off, and there should be a robe in there, too, if you want to borrow it.”

They were skirting around the dramatic events of the day. John wasn’t sure he was prepared for what he might uncover.

“Thanks.” Madeleine took the fluffy bundle. “For everything,” she added.

She locked herself away in the bathroom, leaving John to strip off his sodden clothes in the bedroom.

As he wrapped the towel around his waist, he had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He had never imagined his trip would have ended with a naked woman in his room. But these past few hours had been full of surprises.

For God’s sake, he’d almost drowned himself jumping into a river after someone he barely knew! And then those images of Madeleine in his arms that somehow felt more like memories . . . .

With that picture of her naked still in his head, bringing her back to the hotel now seemed like an act of masochism. But she was obviously fragile, needed someone to talk to, and he’d volunteered for the job.

When she unlocked the door and stepped into the room, John almost wished he had chosen to counsel her over the phone or in a public place rather than face to face, in his bedroom. If he thought residual heartbreak from his last relationship would keep his libido in check, he was sadly mistaken. A sexier sight than Madeleine he was certain he would never see again in his lifetime. Her slim, bare legs on show beneath the hotel robe and the tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage reminded him he was a hot-blooded male. He forced his thoughts back to her state of mind rather than her state of undress.

“So, let’s start with Joe. He appears to have a lot to do with whatever you’re going through. Is he an ex?”

John perched on the end of the bed while Madeleine busied herself pottering around the room, plumping cushions, and unnecessarily rearranging the items on the dressing table.

“Sort of. We were to be married but he . . . he passed away.” Her voice caught on the last word, underscoring her raw grief.

“And I look like him?”

If it was a recent bereavement, no wonder she’d reacted so strongly to his resemblance to her deceased fiancé. It had been years since his father had passed away, but John still vividly remembered that pain of losing someone close.

Madeleine stilled her hands, but kept her back to him. “It’s more than that, John. I know it sounds ten kinds of crazy, but your mannerisms, just the way we are together—I think you
are
him.”

* * * * *

Well, she’d said it now. She may as well tell him the whole wild story before the men in white coats came to cart her off to the funny farm. She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“Joe was one of the crew who died when the Titanic sank.”

She watched his brow wrinkle as he let the words sink in.

“So that makes you
how
old?”

It was only natural he should make fun of her, but this time around Joe/John deserved to know the truth, however ridiculous it sounded to his ears.

“In human years, I’m one hundred and sixty-three years old.”

“In human years,” he muttered. “You look great for your age.”

Even though she expected it, his sardonic sneer hit her where it hurt.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, John, but I’m an Ondine, an immortal.”

“An Ondine? What’s that, like some sort of fairy?”

Whether or not he took her seriously, she needed to get it all out now, make her peace, and get back to where she belonged.

“More like a water nymph. I met Joe just a few months before he sailed, and, if we had married and had a family, I would have become mortal.”

“So, let me get this straight.”

He rose from the bed. Confronted with the smooth, sculpted lines of his naked torso, Madeleine temporarily forgot he was ridiculing her.

“You think I’m the reincarnation of a mermaid’s dead lover?”

“Ondine,” she corrected. “But, yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

She waited for him to throw her out of the room, but he didn’t react immediately. Instead, he paced the room, running his hands through his hair and mumbling to himself.

“I can’t prove anything, John. I don’t suddenly sprout a fishtail if I get wet. But, when I jumped into the river, it was to go home. I wasn’t in trouble, and I saved you, remember?”

She prayed if Joe was in there, somewhere deep down in his psyche, he would remember her and the connection they once shared.

“I remember,” he said.

He tapped his lips, making her smile.

“What?” he asked.

“That tapping when you’re thinking of what to say is how I knew you were Joe.” Madeleine began to tear up.

If only I could get him to believe me. If only we could finally be together.

“Forgive me if I appear stupid, but if you’re this supernatural water creature you claim to be, it seems ironic that you watched the Titanic sink with your lover onboard.”

He didn’t say it with obvious malicious intent, but his words were still a dagger to Madeleine’s heart.

“There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t regret being unable to prevent the tragedy, and I tried to get Joe off that ship, but he was just too stubborn, too selfless to leave the others and save himself.”

Caught between a sob and a smile, she remembered Joe with both love and sadness.

“I admit I was drawn to you, Madeleine, but any person in their right mind wouldn’t believe a word you’re saying.”

John was right. It was too tall a tale to expect anyone to swallow, and Madeleine steeled herself for the inevitable rejection.

He surprised her then when he stopped the lip-tapping and looked her straight in the eye.

“It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . . From the minute I saw you, I felt something between us. And I don’t mean just attraction.”

His frown was at odds with the compassion on his face, and Madeleine could see the internal battle within him to make sense of it all. But, with his admission that he realized more existed between them than simply lust at first sight, a flicker of hope burned within her.

She reached out to him, desperate to make that connection again.

“We were good together, John.”

He held her hand against his cheek. “If I let myself believe for one minute that what you say is true and those pictures in my head are real, I don’t doubt it.”

His smile stretched to smooth out the wrinkles of his brow.

“But I’m not Joe. I’m John Morrison, and I can’t promise you I’ll be anyone other than who I am now.”

A weight lifted from Madeleine’s heart, which soared unimpeded for the first time in a century.

After all this time, would she finally be able to love again?

“That’s all I want, John. A chance for us both to be honest about who we are.”

* * * * *

This was insane. Only a mad woman would claim to have been on board the Titanic and to have survived for a hundred years afterward. So why had he allowed himself to be sucked into the delusion?

Questions and worries tumbled into John’s head, but they faded to white noise in the background when Madeleine touched him.

How can I dismiss her story when her every caress makes me feel like I’m coming home?

Suddenly, the magnetic pull of her mouth to his was a force too great to fight. The shock of electricity that jolted through him when their lips met fried the rational part of his brain. This woman made him reckless. When he was with her, he forgot all his responsibilities and, for once, thought only of what he wanted. Madeleine.

He eased the robe from her shoulders to kiss the delicate skin beneath. He cupped the creamy swell of her breasts in both hands, brushing the rosy tips with his thumbs until they puckered up for his kiss. Madeleine arched into him when he took one in his mouth. John became acutely aware the towel around his hips was the only thing stopping their bodies from joining completely.

If he were any sort of gentleman, he would slow things down, establish what the hell was going on before they took things any further. But with his groin pressed against the soft mound of her pussy, he felt the thin cotton straining to contain his growing erection. Madeleine took matters into her own hands and tugged the towel away to free him. John growled as he lost his fight for control.

Taking advantage of the power shift, Madeleine dropped to her knees in front of him and just the anticipation of what she might have in mind made him want to come all over those delicious full breasts. On the same lust-bound train of thought, she leaned forward to sheath his cock in her cleavage. The soft velvet flesh enveloping him turned his cock to steel, and, when she dipped her head to take him in her mouth, the evidence of his sensory overload glistened on the tip of his erection.

Instinctively, he thrust into her warm, wet mouth and wanted nothing more than to possess her completely.

“On the bed,” he insisted, going against the grain of his usual reserve.

If she wanted this to happen, he wanted to make damn sure she had the best of him.

Madeleine gave a sly smile before obeying. She lay unashamedly naked, waiting for him. The raw sexuality emanating throughout the room was something new to John; the chemistry they had together unlike anything he remembered experiencing. Of course, he’d had dalliances in the past—he was a man after all. But when he joined her on the bed, he knew this was about more than sticking his dick into a tight pussy. As enjoyable as that was.

Madeleine was wet just looking at John, and she didn’t intend to waste time pretending otherwise. She grabbed the head of his cock and rubbed it against the seam of her pussy to coat it in her welcoming juices.

“Madeleine, as horny as I am right now, I am not a selfish lover.”

* * * * *

To her dismay, John held back from the final push. But she was a girl who knew her own mind—and body.

She bucked her hips off the bed to impale herself on his hard length and forge their bodies together.

“It’s not selfish to give me what I want,” she said.

And she had wanted this for a very long time.

He filled her like only one other man had ever done in her life, and she didn’t give John time to hesitate. She wrapped her legs around his back and drove him deeper into her core. Following her lead, he pulled out completely, only to thrust his cock hard into her pussy again and again. Each penetration felt like the first, the best, and Madeleine couldn’t get enough.

“I want to fuck you,” she panted.

He slammed her again sending another burst of pleasure to wet her loins.

“I thought you were fucking me,” John said with a grin.

“I meant with me on top.” She wanted to give him everything, no holding back.

“Be my guest.” John rolled with her onto the other side of the bed so she straddled him by the waist, anchored to his cock.

Madeleine started slowly, sliding up and down his cock and luxuriating in the feel of him between her legs. John lay back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, watching her pleasure herself. She decided to step things up a notch. With her hands on the headboard of the bed, she braced herself and ground her pussy tight around his cock until he gasped with the sensation. He grabbed her ass, the relaxed look on his face now transformed into a mask of ecstasy as he drove into her, hard and fast. Every pound of his cock rocked her body, made her breasts jiggle inches away from his face until he succumbed to temptation and lifted his mouth to latch onto a nipple.

He sucked the nipple hard, increasing the building pressure Madeleine felt surging in her body, and she in turn reached a hand behind her to stroke his balls and dip to that delicate spot at the base of his shaft. They drove each other into a frenzied pace, bodies crashing together, as their moans escalated into a fever pitch. Madeleine planted her hands on his chest and rode him until her orgasm gushed over his cock. John’s fingers dug painfully into the flesh at her hips as he lost himself in the final throes of his climax, which culminated in a roar and the spurting evidence of his release.

Madeleine lay spent against his chest, listening to the gallop of his heartbeat. They lay for some time in relative silence, until their breathing became more regulated and Madeleine regained enough control of her body to climb off John’s addictive body.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, breaking the spell that had been cast over the room.

She knew what she wanted: to pick up where they had once left off—with marriage and a family still a possibility—but John probably had a different idea of how his future would pan out.

“I guess we go back to our own lives and look back on tonight with fond memories,” she said.

If nothing else, she might finally have some closure.