by Jill Jones
That oneness spiraled them higher and higher as they silently but surely pledged their troth, in body, mind and spirit, before all the powers of the Universe. They were truly one, here, in this divine and holy temple, and Nick no longer cared if they returned to…
“Return. You must return.” A voice echoed like thunder in his ears, and Nick sat up abruptly.
“What is wrong, my darling?” Simone frowned, the first unhappy expression he’d seen on her face in this place. He knew the voice, and he knew it spoke the truth, but the pain it brought him was indescribable.
“We cannot remain here,” he told her, stroking his hands alongside her cheeks. “We must return to…our world.”
“We can only remain here,” she returned, a troubled look in her eyes, “if we wish to be together. There is no other world for us.”
“Together, we can make a world of our own, my love,” he whispered urgently. “We can, if we wish it.”
“No. I will not go back. I do not wish ever to go back…there.” She laid her hands on his arms and her cheek against his chest. “Do not make me, Nick. It is not a good world.”
Nick heard the fear and despair in her voice, and he regretted that the voice had broken the joy of their reunion. But he also knew the wisdom behind the voice. He understood suddenly and clearly that to remain in this place was to lose their humanity…forever. It was not the nature of their being, and they would become lost souls.
“There is grave danger of becoming lost here.”
Nick didn’t know whether he’d spoken them, or if the words had come from outside himself. But he believed them. “We must go, Simone,” he told her as firmly as his now-tormented heart would allow. For even as he knew they must return to their own world, he also realized that in so doing, they faced the risk of losing the oneness once again. He encircled her wrists and brought her fingertips to his lips. “We must return to our own reality. We can make it work.”
But she shook her head. “If we go back, there is no hope for us,” she whispered, her eyes searching his with a quiet desperation. “Don’t you remember? In that world, deceit and hatred and mistrust have built a wall between us too vast to conquer.”
“We can tear down that wall, Simone,” he implored. “I love you, and I know you love me as well. We are pledged to each other through eternity.”
“Yes, but there, that love is darkened by earthly events. Nicholas, don’t you see? Here, there is no yesterday, no tomorrow. Only us, and now. This moment.” Tears glistened in her dark eyes.
“Can you forgive, Simone? Can you forgive those earthly events? I have loved you, always. God curse the day I ever brought you sorrow. I have lived in torment since then, wanting you, knowing I could never have you again, knowing that you hated me. Can you forgive me, Simone?”
“I want to forgive you, Nick,” she murmured, “but I am afraid. How can I ever trust you again?”
Nick gently placed his lips on hers, willing her to understand the love that overflowed his heart. “I would give up my life to regain your love and trust,” he swore, holding her head between his hands. “But you must find it in your heart to forgive me. If you can do that, we will easily find our place together, on earth, in our own realm. Come home with me, Simone. Please. Give us another chance.”
He searched her eyes, his own pleading with her. At last, her lips edged upward into a tremulous smile and she nodded, ever so slightly. “Yes, Nick. I want that, too. Take me home.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Simone opened her eyes and lay very still, trying to decide where she was. She could vaguely see the shape of a large room, heavily draped from ceiling to floor along two walls. She was in a bed, a very large bed, and next to her was the man in her dreams. Then it all came back in a rush.
“Nick?” she whispered, terrified, realizing that she had left the safety and protection of the wondrous dream world. She reached for his hand.
“Yes, love.” Nick put his arm around her and drew her against the warmth of his body. “Are you all right?”
As full consciousness returned, Simone’s head felt light, and she was not sure that she was all right. There was so much to grasp, such overwhelming impossibilities to consider. “Hold me,” she said in a small voice.
He tightened his embrace and kissed her forehead. “Don’t be afraid.”
But Simone shivered. She was afraid. “Where are we?”
“At home. In Brierley Hall.”
Simone closed her eyes. Brierley Hall! How had she ended up at Brierley Hall? Or back in this world for that matter?
From her memory, she summoned the available fragments of her most recent dreamtime, struggling to comprehend how she got here. Nick had been in the dream. No, Nick had come there, and she had the distinct impression it was to find her. Then she recalled him telling her that he would give up his life to regain her love and trust. Yes, she was certain of it. He’d talked about forgiveness, begged her to forgive him. Her pulse quickened as the recall grew stronger. He had said those things, but had he meant them? Or was that memory just a trick of her imagination in its hungry desire for it to be so?
She lay very still, feeling his heartbeat next to hers, and thought about forgiveness.
Forgiveness meant giving up her anger. Her mistrust. All those thoughts of revenge that had been her constant companions for so long. Forgiveness meant opening herself to him fully, in every way. Becoming vulnerable to him again.
Forgiveness was fraught with danger.
She bit her lip. Could she do it? Could she really and sincerely forgive him from the depths of her heart? For if she did, and Nick betrayed her again, she would not survive.
But had he not come for her, sought her out and implored her to return to this world with him? There must have been a reason for him to want her back. She was certain it was not an adventure that had been undertaken lightly. He’d told her he loved her,that he believed if she would forgive him, together they could create their own paradise here on earth, where they belonged. Did she share that belief?
Simone drew in a deep breath. She remembered that she’d asked him to take her home. Before, she hadn’t known where home was. Now, she knew. Home was here, with Nick. If she wanted that home, on every level of her being, then she must forgive him, make her peace with him once and for all.
“Nick?” she murmured again.
“I’m here, love.”
Simone smiled at that. Yes, he was here. With her. For her. “Is it true? Can we really be together in this world?”
“According to Esther we can, if we have the intent and the belief.”
Simone jerked her head to look into his face to see if he was making fun of her. But his expression was dead serious. “When did Esther tell you that?”
Nick smiled, and the look of love and tenderness on his face melted away Simone’s momentary doubts. “I don’t know. Yesterday. The day before. Last night. Depends on what time it is, what day. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Esther gave me what I needed to come into the dreamworld to find you.”
“Which was…?”
Nick loosened his embrace only long enough to reach for a small, flat jar that rested on the nightstand. “These,” he said, handing it to her. “And the courage to suspend my disbelief and follow my heart to you.”
Simone held the jar in front of her face. It appeared to contain something that looked like pieces of old shoestrings. Shreds of something brown and wilted. “What on earth is in here?”
“Chopped flowers. Mahja blossoms.”
Mahja blossoms. Simone was astounded. “But the perfume oil is not yet ready,” she blurted out, then stopped short, realizing she’d just revealed their secret to Nick. But then, if Esther had given these blooms to him, she must have told him about the plants and their efforts at enfleurage. Besides, Nick, she hoped, was no longer the enemy. That concept would take some getting used to.
“Apparently it does not necessarily have to be an oil for the fragra
nce to…uh…have its magical effects,” Nick said, taking the jar from her and returning it to the table. Then he encircled her with his arms again, and she nestled into the warmth and security he offered her.
“Do you believe that’s what it is, Nick? Magic?”
She felt him take a deep breath. “I don’t know what I believe any more, except that something magical must have happened for you to be lying here in my arms.”
Simone’s heart leapt. “Nick?” She said his name again, liking the feel of it on her lips.
“I’m here,” he told her again.
“Forever?”
Nick rolled her onto her back and leaned on one elbow, looking down into her face. “Forever. I meant everything I said to you in the dreamworld. I love you. I always have. And I’ve lived in torment since I betrayed you in Grasse.” He moved his face closer to hers. “I beg your forgiveness, Simone. I can’t go on without it, or you.” She saw the earnest urgency in his eyes and felt the openness of his heart. She reached up and touched the rough stubble on his chin, thinking she must still be in the dreamworld. God, how she had longed to hear those words. And believe them.
“If we want to make our own dreams come true, we must both let that past go now,” she whispered. “I’m ready if you are.”
He closed his eyes, his expression revealing an intense sense of relief. “Thank God,” he uttered, lowering his lips to hers. “I promise you, Simone, I’ll do anything in my power to make all of your dreams come true.”
“Anything?” Simone smiled lazily and moved sensually in his arms, filled with a delicious anticipation. “Then prove to me that it wasn’t the perfume after all that made those dreams so special.”
Nick wasted no time in granting her wish. She felt his strength surge as he bent to his task, making magic wherever he touched her. His caresses were both tender and virile, and he played her body with the practiced touch of the lover in her dreams, bringing her to new exquisite heights. But this lover was real, and he indeed proved to her that they needed no perfume to feel the magic of the love that flowed between them.
Much later, Simone peeked from behind the door of the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom where she had just enjoyed a long and luxurious shower. The heavy drapes that had earlier kept out the light of morning had now been moved aside slightly, and a slant of sunshine highlighted an old Oriental rug on the floor. The bed, though rumpled, was now empty. “Nick?”
But the room was empty as well. Simone frowned. What was she going to do now? She was stark naked and had nothing to wear. Where were her clothes? Her mouth suddenly went dry. She remembered packing her suitcase in the flat in London, before she’d entered the dreamworld. But she’d come back from that dreamworld with Nick to Brierley Hall! Was her suitcase still in London?
Wrapping her body in a large towel, she crept back into the bedroom, her mind racing at the inference that the perfume actually had the power to transport a human body through space. But her logical mind fought the idea that she had dematerialized into the dream, then come back here physically with Nick.
It simply could not be. Nick must have come upon her asleep in her room in the London flat and brought her here. It followed that her suitcase was nearby.
The whole business threatened to give her a headache. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation for everything, something more substantial than “magic.” Simone sank into a nearby chair and tugged at the edge of the towel that barely covered her thighs. Despite their earlier intimacy and the fact that she’d allowed herself at last to forgive and trust Nick, it made her distinctly uncomfortable to find herself so weirdly transported to a strange house, into a strange bedroom, a man’s bedroom at that, with no clothing available to her. The whole episode had a certain dreamlike quality to it.
Determined to find her suitcase, she stood up again and was almost to the door when she spied the jar of crushed flowers on Nick’s bedside table. She returned and picked it up, twisting the lid and lifting the container to her nose. The scent of the mahja renewed her doubt and underscored her questions, but it did not, she noticed, exert any “magical” effect over her. She felt no sexual stimulation whatsoever. Why did the essence work at some times and not at others?
Simone shook her head, more perplexed than ever, wondering if she would ever understand what had happened to her.
She heard a door slam somewhere in the house, then the sound of footsteps hurrying up the stairs. A polite knock sounded on the door before Nick poked his head inside.
“Simone?” he called out her name breathlessly. A distinct look of relief washed over him when he saw her, then he flashed her a sexy grin that sent her heart rate soaring again.
“Oui, Monsieur Rutledge,” she said, tucking the towel around her and using a playfully formal greeting to hide the sudden rush of shyness she felt.
Nick entered with two paper bags and several boxes. “I thought you might need these,” he said, placing the boxes at the foot of the bed and removing the lids. “I didn’t have much time, and there’s not much in the way of fashion available in Redford anyway, but this should at least cover the subject.”
He took out a simple red knit sundress, with spaghetti straps and a bias skirt that on Simone would reach to her calves.
Clothes. So her suitcase wasn’t in the house after all. “My favorite color,” Simone smiled, fingering the texture of the towel nervously and wondering exactly where her belongings were. “It was thoughtful of you, Nick. Thanks.”
The other box held something wrapped in tissue, and he handed it to her, an abashed look on his face. “I…I had to have the sales woman pick these out for you. I don’t know much about ladies lingerie.”
Simone cocked a curious eyebrow at him and took the box. Between the sheets of white tissue lay a pair of red silk bikini panties. In spite of all her uncertainties at the moment, she had to laugh. “Are you sure you bought these for me?” she asked, teasing him by holding them over the appropriate place against her scantily-clad body.
“Well…” Nick grinned again and left the implication hanging. “I thought about buying a matching bra, but…”
She gave him a suggestive look. “I’m glad you didn’t. I despise the things.”
“They can be kind of sexy sometimes,” he said solemnly, taking a step in her direction, all trace of embarrassment gone now from his expression. “Intriguing to remove as well.”
Simone’s mouth watered at the thought of Nick removing any piece of clothing from her. Was he going to help her out of the towel? But instead he handed her the third box. In it was a pair of red strappy sandals.
Forgetting the questions that had so disturbed her only moments before, Simone wanted only one thing. Nick. Everything he’d given her screamed of the sexuality they enjoyed between them, and his suggestive comments tantalized her and whetted her desire once again. “You did pretty well for an old bachelor man,” she said with a devilish smile, beckoning him with one slender finger. “You deserve a reward.” Slowly, she raised her arms, letting the towel slid to the floor.
Nick followed her down onto the bed, where together they discovered new delights and rekindled the intimacy both hungered for. When they finally came up for air, Simone looked into Nick’s face and felt as if she would explode with happiness.
“I am still in the dream,” she murmured. “This can’t be happening for real.”
Nick cradled her in his arm, and she rested her head against his bare chest. “But it is happening. The voice was right. We can be together in our own reality.”
Her hand froze where it had been making playful circles in the hair of his chest. “Voice?”
Cooking was basically foreign to Nick, but after he left Simone to dress, he went downstairs into the large, old-fashioned kitchen and, finding the microwave, warmed the now stone-cold coffee he’d brought from the village. Simone joined him moments later, glowing and fresh from their lovemaking, and stunning in the red dress.
He couldn’t help him
self. He had to take her in his arms and kiss her soundly to prove to himself she was for real. “You’re gorgeous,” he told her, and she warmed him with her smile.
“You, too,” she teased, then eased out of his embrace. “But if we want to sort through things, we’ll have to keep some space between us.” She winked. “For a little while, anyway.” She accepted a mug of coffee and a cold pastry and sat down at the wooden trestle table. “Now, about that voice…”
Nick took the chair opposite. He liked the way she joked with him, but he knew she was right. They had some serious ground to cover. Sitting at the rustic kitchen table in broad daylight, he found it difficult to talk rationally about disembodied voices speaking in a dream, but he knew that voice had been as real as the wood on the tabletop.
“After that night, when we…when you…came to my house, and then left without saying goodbye, my life fell apart,” he said, admitting it to himself for the first time even as he shared it with Simone. “I started using the perfume, every night, trying to meet you in the dreamworld.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. “Mais non! I, too, went there, searching for you. But you never came.” The last held an accusatory note.
“It was the voice that restrained me. Believe me, I wanted to be with you, and the dreamworld seemed the only place. But the strangest thing happened.” He told her about hearing the man’s voice warning of the grave danger of going too often into the dreamworld. “He told me that a doorway would eventually close, and I would be unable to return to the real world. I understood another message, although I’m not sure I heard it, that those who get trapped in that dreamworld lose their humanity, become lost souls…” His voice faded, and he wondered if Simone thought him daft. But her next question proved otherwise.
