TOUCH ME SOFTLY (4 page)

"Yes... I mean no. I see whom I am meeting. Thank you." Glancing back to Jareth, I found him already looking in my direction. He looked even better than he did at lunch. His beard had that five o'clock shadow look, which I found profoundly sexy. As he stood, I suddenly felt overdressed. He went casual: blue jeans and a black button-up dress shirt. Noticing me, his hands gestured outward, towards me slightly, and he mouthed the word, "wow." Flattered by his attention I answered with a gracious smile as we walked towards each other.

"Miss Wittmyer," he greeted me. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight," he leaned closer shaking my hand. "I must say... You look quite beautiful tonight," he added as he flashed his sexy, dimpled smile.

His personal compliment took me off guard at first, but I quickly recovered. "Thank you, Mr. Sumer... Jareth," I said sheepishly. Jareth motioned to the host, who quickly led us to the most private table in the restaurant. As we sat looking out over the city, reading our menus, I couldn't help myself any longer. Like the cat, curiosity got the better of me. "So are you going to tell me what all this is about?" I asked peering over the menu. "Don't misunderstand me; I know it's about your families painting, but why now?" Jareth didn't say a word. He simply continued reading his menu for several seconds. Then, slowly he folded the menu, placed it on the table, and leaned ever so closer to me.

"Miss Wittmyer."

I stopped him. "I told you, if I have to call you Jareth then you can at least call me by my first name also," I smiled.

Smiling back, Jareth let out a tiny laugh. "Okay," he said. "Quinlyn."

"Please... Just call me Quin," I interrupted.

"I'm sorry. Quin, I've... Excuse me, I should rephrase that, my family have been searching for the painting since the war, but as you might imagine, it is extremely difficult to locate one painting," he sat back in his chair, his eyes never drifting from mine.

"Before we go any further may I ask a question?" I asked.

"Sure."

"May I see the photo of the painting?" I smiled.

"You are good," he said. "You're the first person to ask that question," he added as he reached into his shirt pocket. "So what made you think there was a photograph?"

"How else would such an old painting be identified? Your Grandfather is mostly likely too old to do so. You haven’t mentioned a mother or a father. So just how would it be proven to belong to your family? The answer to that question is simple: a photo."

Pulling out the small photo, Jareth placed it on the table and slid it to me. The low light of the restaurant made it hard to make out the details of the grainy, black and white picture. But you could see the woman in the painting was absolutely beautiful. Long, beautiful light colored hair flowed along the left side of her neck and down over her breast. Pretty round eyes and high cheekbones enhanced her plump, full lips that outlined her sweet, innocent smile. She looked to be in her late teens, maybe early twenties and the family resemblance was apparent immediately. "I can't believe how much she looks like you," I gasped as I looked up at him. "I mean really..." I trailed off in utter dismay as I went back to analyzing the photo.
They have the same nose and the exact same lips and smile.
I thought to myself. "She's... She's beautiful," I said softly, almost at a whisper. "What was her name?"

"Yes, she was very pretty," Jareth stared of into the distance. "Her name was Raina... She would have been about seventeen in the painting. It was commissioned to announce her availability for marriage."

"How do you pronounce that again?" I asked.

"Ray-nah," he smiled. "For the time, seventeen was old for a girl to be unwed, but my family has a history of insisting both, girls and boys receive a proper education," Jareth said as he continued staring out the window. His look was one of distance and concentration; and has I looked closely I could see his eyes narrowing as if he struggled to see something far away.

"How old is it?" I asked. "When was it commissioned?" I leaned forward trying to draw Jareth attention back to me.

"It was done in seventeen fifty five," he said as his attention swayed back in my direction. "So you can imagine the importance it holds for family," Jareth smiled. "It is very old."

Just then, our server appeared and took our order. I decided to keep my meal small and ordered only a house salad. Surprisingly, Jareth ordered nothing at all. He sat and sipped his wine as I nibbled away at my salad, awkwardly. Silence echoed throughout the room, and before I knew it, my salad was gone.

"Would you like some dessert?" Jareth politely asked.

"No thank you," I replied as I dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin. Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was almost ten-thirty. It was getting late, and I was far from being known as a morning person. Therefore, I decided to politely, bring the evening to an end. "Jareth, thank you for taking the time to meet with me this evening," I said smiling as I gestured to our waiter that I was ready for the check.

Jareth leaned back in his chair and raised one eyebrow at me. "I'm surprised," he said. "I thought for sure this night would last longer than this."

"I'm not sure what else I could learn that could help in my research. Is there anything you let out?" I asked.

"No. Not really. I thought we might talk about your plan. About how you’re going to approach your research."

Interrupting us, the waiter set the check on the corner of our table and asked if there was anything else he could do for us. I quickly signed my name and jotted down the firms account number, billing the meal to the room and handed the small leather check presenter back to him. As the waiter walked away, Jareth stood and spoke, once more. "It's a beautiful night; would you like to take a walk along the Harbor?" He asked.

"I don't know... It's getting late, Jareth. I have a lot to do in the morning, and have to be at work very early. Can I take a rain check?" I smiled.

Tilting his head, Jareth smiled his halfcocked grin at me. "I understand," he said. "Perhaps another time, Miss Wittmyer.

"C'mon now, don't be like that," I said to him as we walked out of the restaurant. "You know to call me Quin."

"Yes, Miss Quin," he jokingly replied. "You know... There is one thing I didn't share with you this evening. I left it in my room."

"What is it?"

"Many years ago, my family received an anonymous letter. The letter stated that the painting was located in the United States."

"Why didn't you show it to me? This could be our best chance of finding your painting. Show it to me," I insisted.

Chapter Five

As the elevator doors
closed, all I could think of was getting my hands on this letter. After all, it was important. Whoever sent the letter knew the painting was missing and that meant there was a good chance they were telling the truth about where it might be located. Jareth walked me to the sitting room and excused himself. Within a few minutes, he returned holding what looked to be a small piece of writing paper. Slowly, he handed it to me. "Be careful, it's old and the paper is starting to degrade," he said. The note was short, and right to the point. The painting was located on the east coast of the United States. The note was extremely old. Written on what felt, and looked like hand lay, cotton paper was one simple sentence.

The painting you seek is on the east coast of the United States.

There was no signature; only small faded, ink pressed seal located on the bottom left corner, and it was completely illegible. The note itself was also faded and the ink was a faded, rust color against the off-white, yellow tinged paper.

As I looked up to hand the note back to Jareth, I suddenly found him standing closer to me than he ever had been. Separated only by inches, I looked up, glaring into his deep, green eyes. A little startled, I froze and simply stared at him as eyes washed over me. I felt like he was looking into my soul... Seeing a part of me that the entire world had ignored. My entire body felt numb, as if in a trance and there was nothing I could do. Unexpectedly, Jareth's hand rose to my face; softly, with the lightest touch, he let his fingertips caress my cheekbones. The feel of his touch was exciting. Enticing. Giving into it was natural. My eyes closed and my lips parted slightly as a quiet sigh slipped out.

"Is there anything about you that isn't beautiful?" Jareth whispered softly in his strange, unknown accent.

Unable to speak, I stood silent as Jareth's fingertips softly drifted from my cheekbones to jaw line, then finally, to the silky, soft skin of my neck. Goosebumps exploded out over my body with waives of pleasure and anticipation. I knew what would happen if I let myself run away with the thoughts racing through my mind. If I didn't act fast we would soon be entangled in each other’s hot, sweaty, nude bodies — making love as if tomorrow didn't exist. Jareth was a client; I couldn't let myself go down this road, for so many reasons. Suddenly, my eyes snapped open and I forced myself to take a step back. My feet felt as if they were welded to the floor; nevertheless, will power overcame desire and I slowly backed away from his seductive touch.

"Jareth, I can't... We can't do this," I said softly as I turned away from his alluring gaze.

"I apologize if my interest in you has taken you off guard," he answered in his sexy, accented voice. "I... I should have known better."

I little embarrassed, not to mention afraid, afraid of giving into the desire, the fantasy that had become Jareth Summerfield. I quickly walked to the elevator. "It's okay... Really, don't think twice about it. Ah... I guess you should probably give me a call at the office sometime tomorrow afternoon," I stuttered while relentlessly pressing the button for the elevator. With the sound of Jareth's footsteps drawing closer, the elevator chimed and the doors slid open. "Thanks again for nice evening," I muttered as I stepped into the small mirrored box. In the reflection, I could see Jareth watching me, and once again, his beautiful, dark green eyes grabbed my gaze. My inner voice screamed out at me, urging me to turn and run into his arms. Demanding that I tear off his clothes, push him to the floor and make love to him until we both simply pass out in pleasure. Thankfully, just then, the elevator doors slide shut. My torment was over. Jareth’s alluring gaze had been broken.

My drive home went by in a flash. Of course, I was consumed with thoughts of Jareth, and I couldn't help thinking about how the night could have gone. Sure, sex with Jareth was an arousing fantasy. Everything about him was sexy, and inviting. His beautifully, sculpted body. His alluring, sensual eyes. The finely crafted jaw line. It was as if he was designed for the pleasure of a woman. Created to bring out that primal drive of passion. The more I thought about him the stronger my curiosity became.

Arriving home, Cindy was quick to greet me. "Well, I'm glad to see your mystery man didn't abscond with my best friend," she said jokingly.

"Ha-ha," I smirked. "I told you earlier... he's a client, not a serial killer," I added as I started up the stairs to my room. "I've got to get up early and I'm beat. Goodnight, Cin," I said.

"Night, sweetie," Cindy blankly answered as she continued watching one of her weird reality shows. Realizing there was no gossip to chat about Cindy instantly became bored with how my night went, and I was more than happy with her self-indulgence. It was late and I was tired. All I wanted to do was get out of my clothes and climb into bed. After the day I had, I would be asleep in a matter of minutes. So I quickly threw on my PJ's and brushed my teeth. Climbing into bed, my soft, downy comforter wrapped around and quickly made me warm. The first thing to come off was my bottoms. Trying to cool down a little, I inched myself out of the long, cotton pants and tossed them to the floor. Right away, I felt cooler. I closed my eyes and my thoughts once again turned to Jareth.

I could feel where this line of thought was taking me. I let myself go; knowing I would never get to sleep if I tried to fight what was building inside me. Softly, slowly I let my fingers glide across my soft, silky belly. Gradually, I worked my way down to the top of my panties and chills exploded over my entire body. I absolutely love the sensation of being tickled; so I indulged myself, and let my fingers dance over my body with the lightest touch. Meanwhile, my mind began to imagine a different turn of events for this evening. Instead of leaving his suite, I let myself be pulled in by his inviting touch. Bringing my left hand to my neckline, I imagined it was Jareth's fingers softly gliding over my skin. Drifting under my chin and to the top of my chest, my fingers found the first button on my flannel top. With the most graceful touch, I slipped the button open and pushed my top aside. I repeated this process until both my breast were uncovered, exposed. Using my fingernail, I traced my hard, perky nipples and sent yet another explosion of goose bumps over my body. Instinctively, my legs drifted apart and I imagined it was Jareth's fingers that softly tickled the outline of my swollen lips as I traced over my warm, wet vagina. An erotic pleasure grew throughout my body as I let myself run away with my fantasy. Thoughts of Jareth's touch raced through my mind; the feel of his lips gently caressing mine, the warmth of his chest as he pressed against my bare breasts, the sensation of my panties slipping over my hips and sliding down my legs, as he prepared to take me. My mind had created a world of sensual bliss, and it was too much. Unable to fight my own desire, I found that two fingers had gently slid past my swollen, moist folds. My body quivered, my back arched and a deep sigh escaped me as pulsating waives of pleasure exploded throughout my entire body. Bringing me to a mind-blowing orgasm was the easy part of this fantasy. Facing the truth, admitting my strong sexual desire for Jareth was the hard part.