She nodded. “She's here. But she says she doesn't want to see you."
“Where?"
“Second door on the right.” She stepped aside, giving him a rueful smile and patted his shoulder. “Good luck."
“I'm going to need it.” Thank God he hadn't missed her.
“Nikki?” he called.
No answer. Damn. Taking long hurried strides, he reached the open door of her bedroom.
She stood in the middle of the room, hair in disarray. Clothes were piled everywhere, a suitcase open, as yet empty. She turned toward him, her eyes puffy and red from crying. Her air of devastation broke his heart.
She cringed at the sight of him, hands thrust forward as if to ward off his presence. “Go away."
“You can't run away,” Max said. “We'll face this together."
“I don't want to face it.” She sagged and collapsed onto the chaise.
“You have to.” He fell to his knees before her, taking her hands in his. He had to convince her to stay. “I can't live without you."
“Sure you can. You've managed so far."
“I've never known you to run from anything. You're not a coward. I can't change what happened when you were a baby. Dammit, you were just a baby! It's not your fault your step-father was some kind of sick bastard."
“Leave me alone.” She began to cry, her shoulders shaking with the sobs. “You don't know what kind of wife or mother I'd make. You'd want me raising your children?” Her voice rose to a shriek.
“You forget, I've known you for ten years. I've seen you with my daughter. She loves you. She'll be devastated if you leave. I'll be devastated if you leave.
“I-I have to go."
She kept her face averted from his gaze. “Please listen to me,” he begged. “You've overcome so much, when anyone else would've been crushed. You're a wonderful woman. You've written a beautiful book. You've given your time and money to the shelter. Ma chère, any man would be honored to share his life with you. And I've loved you from the first moment we met."
His desperation grew. The unyielding expression on her face told him he hadn't reached the damaged child she'd hidden so deeply inside the beautiful woman. Burying his face in her slim-fingered hands, he resisted the impulse to bawl.
Instead, he marshaled every ounce of self-control he possessed and looked into her tragic face. “Look at me. I love you, Nikki. You are my heart, and I nearly lost you. It was your age and my pride that kept me away from you for so long ... my stubborn pride that left you vulnerable. Can you ever forgive me?"
“Forgive you?” she asked in obvious disbelief. “You haven't done anything. I'm such a fool.” She turned away from him again and looked out the window, as if she couldn't bear to face him. When she spoke again, her voice trembled with emotion. “You know, somehow, I convinced myself I'd managed to live a charmed life. Yeah, that's right. In spite of growing up with a mother who seemed to hate me for reasons I couldn't understand."
Her tormented eyes locked with his. “Now I know the truth. Instead of being Cinderella, I'm...” she paused, “...what—a statistic? I don't know who I am anymore, Max."
Her bare declaration cut him like a knife. “You are my love ... my heart ... my soul. I don't want to live without you. I can't. Fate has put us together before and has seen fit to do it again."
“Fate? You believe in fate?” Nikki wiped the tears from her eyes. “You?” Arching an elegant eyebrow, the beginning of a mocking smile played about the corner of her mouth.
He ignored her derision. “I do now. I'm looking at her. You are my future as you have been my past.” His desperation mounted; he simply had to reach her. Yet with every word he spoke, she grew more remote.
“No.” She pulled her hands from his. “No. All I am is a face ... a mask with nothing behind it."
“Dammit! You can't give up now,” he shouted. “You're not a quitter. We can do this, together. Please, give us a chance."
“No.” She shook her head. “I need some time to m-myself."
Max's common-sense arguments weren't working. Exasperated, he tried another tack, jumping up from his knees, he paced and threw his hands in the air.
“Merde! You are the most stubborn woman I have ever known. Just once, I wish you'd listen to me.” He waited for a response and was immediately rewarded by an angry flush that spread up her neck and face.
She turned on him, her blue eyes flashing. “Listen to you? Now, you love me?” She stood, hands on hips, her voice thick with emotion. “You've left it a little late, mon ami. I needed to hear that precious little speech of yours months ago.” Nikki shook her head back and forth, furious. “Instead of your it-was-a-mistake-morning-after speech."
She assumed a fighting stance, her fists clenched. Another second and she might actually take a swing at him. Everything about her body language dared him to answer.
He dared. “Better late than never, they say."
“Agh!"
She sprang from the chaise, but Max caught her in his arms. “You want to hit me? Go ahead. Hit me."
“Turn me loose, and I will.” She floundered in his arms, grappling for her freedom.
Max shook his head. “No, I like holding you, and I think I'll keep holding you."
“Let me go, you—you ass-hole!"
He drew back, clucking his tongue in amusement. “Ah, ma chère, such bad language. I thought Maman taught you not to say such words."
“Don't you dare bring up her name. You're a pig—a controlling, asinine—"
“Asinine. Yes, that's much better. Maman would've approved of that one.” Her body began to relax; she stopped struggling.
“Yeah, I guess she would.” Again, she pushed him away. This time he allowed her. She sank to the floor and leaned back against the chaise. He followed her lead, sitting beside her, not touching, but there ... if she wanted him.
“I was yours that night—totally yours—and the next morning you rejected me. I felt used."
“I tried to—"
“Explain? What was there to explain? You got what you wanted, and how I felt didn't matter. I was so hurt ... and disillusioned. All those years I'd thought of you as—well—my knight in shining armor. You rescued me, showed me a new world. A part of me believed you were waiting for the right moment—for me to grow up or become perfect ... or whatever.
“But—"
“After we made love, I thought my dreams had come true. We shared everything that night...” she paused and took a ragged breath before continuing, “...then you tossed me aside like a used tissue.” Tears streamed down her cheeks; she buried her face in her hands.
“I know it seemed that way.” Would she never let him explain? No, he'd remain quiet and listen to whatever else she had to say. He owed her that much; he'd caused her so much pain.
“Seemed? Hmph.” Nikki raised her head and gazed into his eyes. “I thought you really cared when you beat up Ian Starr after he raped me."
“I did. I hated what he did to you, what he took from you."
“But what you did was even worse. I'll never understand you.” Tears abating, she rested her head on her drawn-up knees and looked at him with a weary, sad expression. “Tell me why, Max. Tell me why you broke my heart."
Max shifted around until he stood on his knees before her. “I-I did it to protect you."
Her eyes widened. “To protect me? Please, go on. I have to hear this."
Now she was ready to listen, but what could he say that made sense?
“Haven't figured it out yet, have you?” Her voice trembling, she turned away, refusing to look him in the eye.
Frantic to reach her, he grasped her shoulders. “It sounds bizarre. It started with a dream.” Mon Dieu, but he sounded stupid even to himself.
“A dream?” She turned back, giving him her full attention.
“Several dreams, but—"
“When—what did you dream?” Nikki reached out and touched his cheek, desperate to know. “Tell me, it's
important."
Max sighed. “I—uh, don't—"
“Start at the beginning. With the first dream.” She leaned forward, intent on hearing him out. Had he had the dreams too?
“The first night I took you to Maman's. It was brief, just an impression of being at a costume ball ... and the mask. You wore it."
“The mask?” Her heart tripped into overdrive.
“Yes. The one I sent you from Paris. It was the same one. I just didn't know it at the time."
“I dreamt of a masked ball that first night too.” She shut her eyes, reliving the images and emotions from her first. “You saved me from being raped by your brother. Quick, tell me, more. Don't leave anything out."
“After I bought the mask, that night, I had a nightmare. It was during WWII, I was—"
“In the French Underground,” she finished for him.
“Yes, how did you know?"
“I tried on the mask before I put it away. I passed out, or fell asleep. I had the same dream."
He slipped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “I died."
“Yes, because you came to me in the night. It was my fault you died.” She buried her face on his chest. “I'm sorry."
“Not your fault, Chèrie."
He pulled away, his green eyes full of emotion. “Is this real?” he asked. “The provenance tells of such an event."
“I-I don't know. It feels like it. Were there more dreams?"
“Another? Yes, I was a ship's captain. I seduced you.” Max met her gaze and grinned. “I couldn't help it. You were so desirable."
“I remember too well,” she said. “You were a wonderful lover that time too."
Max looked down, shame-faced. “And then that night, that beautiful night when we made love—during the storm—you remember?"
Nikki cast her eyes down, then looked back at him with her bravest smile. “Not likely to forget it."
Swallowing, Max said, “I'll never forget. It was the most beautiful night of my life."
Tears formed in Nikki's eyes. “Then why?"
“I had another nightmare. I saw you die this time."
“How?"
Max shook his head, unable to tell her the details. “The French Revolution—no, it doesn't matter. That time I failed. I didn't rescue you. When I woke up with you in my arms, I was confused ... so I left. I needed to clear my head. But all I could see your death over and over. And all I could think was that I-I was bad for you, and our being together would hurt you once again."
“But it was a dream,” she told him softly, stroking the side of his face.
“No, yes—I don't know. Maybe we've been together before. I love you—"
“You do?"
“I told you I did. I couldn't risk losing you, but I didn't know how to—"
“So you dumped me instead,” she said with a sigh, beginning to understand.
“I tried to tell you, but...” Max shrugged.
“I threw a clock at you."
“You did,” he said wryly.
“Now go back to the I-love-you part."
Max grinned. “Oui Chèrie. Let us go back to that.” Max lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. “I love you with all my heart."
“I love you too. I always have.” She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He skimmed his hands beneath her shirt and cupped her breasts, teasing the peaks with his thumbs. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping and mating with hers, then he pulled away.
Breathless, she demanded, “What now?"
“You will marry me, have my children?"
Nikki bit her bottom lip, to keep from laughing. “Asking or telling?"
“Pleading with all my heart."
“Then yes, I will."
“My love—"
“Sh, you talk too much.” She pulled the shirt from Max's pants and fumbled with his belt buckle.
“You interrupt my sentences."
“The door...” she whispered.
Max turned and looked over his shoulder and saw the bedroom door standing open. He extended his leg and kicked it shut.
Max turned back to Nikki, a broad smile across his face. “You are the love of my life, all my lives. I don't care about the past. All we really have is right now ... and the future. My future has to be with you."
“No matter what happens?"
“No matter what."
Epilogue
Spying her husband leaning his elbows on the wrought-iron balcony, Nikki eased from the bed and joined him. From her vantage point, she could see the elegant lines of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, lit by a myriad of lights.
Max turned and placed his arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest. Love and contentment suffused her entire body. She sighed, then smiled into his crystal green eyes. Reaching up, she winnowed her fingers through his wavy hair. “Do you know how many times I've wanted to do that?"
“Do you know how many times I've dreamt of having you here with me—just like this?” He placed a kiss on her forehead. "Je t'aime, Madame Devereaux."
“Je t'aime, M'sieur Devereaux.” Nikki smiled at her husband. “But surely you can do better than a fatherly kiss on the forehead."
Max grinned. “You think so, Chèrie?"
“I know so.” She raised her chin, daring him.
“That sounded like a challenge."
“Oh, it was."
His eyes darkened. “Then you expect me to prove myself again?"
“Uh-hm ... again."
“Then I must not disappoint my bride."
“No, you absolutely mustn't disappoint your bride. It's the first rule in the honeymoon rule book."
He rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. “Honeymoon rule book?” Slowly, but deliberately, he took her hand and led her from the balcony back to their bed. “Is there anything in this rule book about how I may keep disappointment at bay?"
Slipping her arms around his neck and pressing against him, she winked. “Suggestions on every page."
“Really?” he asked, his accent deepening.
“Really."
Hi lowered his lips on hers for a long, drugging kiss. Her knees buckled, but his strong arms held her fast. Max was actually her husband.
“Is this how I start?” he asked, ending the kiss.
“Oh yes, but you can't stop now."
“I wouldn't think of it."
Together they toppled onto the bed. Once more, they spiraled into the giddy heights of love. A love that transcended time.
In the cool, early dawn hours, Nikki awakened in Max's arms. He was still asleep, allowing her a moment for quiet reflection. Joy had filled every waking moment since he'd asked her to marry him. He'd even managed to broker a truce between her and her mother. Nikki's heart was so full, she wasn't sure she could bear it. The man lying at her side loved her, loved her as no one had ever loved her. His acceptance and his love had wiped away the pain of her past and allowed her heart to heal.
Meet Marie-Nicole Ryan
As a child Marie-Nicole Ryan loved to read and tell stories. Somewhere along the path to adulthood, she became a registered nurse and also studied interior design. But writing is her first love, and she has returned to it. See you in My Dreams is her second novel published by Wings ePress.
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