by Ellen March
With every fibre of his being, he knew that—much as he wanted to—he wasn’t the one who could do that. He loved her too much to force her to remain with him. Not that he had the power to force her, anyway. Their destiny was out of his hands. Yet he would surrender his soul to stay with her, to have one day on earth as her living man.
* * *
Grace glanced around, not that she needed to; she’d sensed Breece’s departure. And wished he had stayed.
Of all the times Sage decided to shock her, it had to be now, when it didn’t matter anymore. She’d made her decision.
“Well, what do you say? We could go out and get an engagement ring. Set a date for our wedding.” He held her hand, refusing to let go; his green gaze homed in on her. He was waiting for her to say yes, to throw herself into his arms.
“You want to marry me?” The words stumbled out on a rocky path of disbelief.
“Obviously. Just think what a great incentive it will be for you to lose weight. I’ll pick out a nice wedding dress.”
“You will?”
“Of course, you’ve got no sense of style.” A smug grin curled his lips. “We’ll set the date for some time next year. We want to get you over this fixation with sex, and there’re a few other details we need to discuss.”
Still she didn’t move. “Like what?”
“As the wife of a prominent surgeon, you’ll be expected to maintain a certain social standing. Which would mean developing an interest in art, history, politics, etcetera. You’ll need to stop following the soap operas and reading those trashy magazines.”
“Really?” She chewed her lip and tilted her head. A frown waved across her forehead.
“Of course! Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll take you with me to the functions I attend. But don’t set your heart on it; obviously it depends on how you come along.” His other hand came up and flicked her plait. “And this has to go. I know you’ve said no, but when we get married, that I will insist on. A nice bob, or cropped short?” He cricked his neck, considering. “It will give you an elfin look—that is, when you’ve lost weight. Your cheeks are too chubby at the moment.”
“Anything else you want to change about me? How about elocution lessons?”
“That’s a fantastic idea! See, you’re getting into the spirit of things. I knew you would.”
Grace closed her eyes, and a loud roar blew through her head. When she opened them, her irises were black. “What about sex? Still once a week?”
“Grace, Grace, stop going on about it, will you! After you’ve finished with your sex therapy you won’t even think about it.” He shook his head. “There’s more to life than that. It’s a biological function, for having children. When I decide to give you a child, I’ll take my condom off. You should catch straight away. I’ve already had my sperm checked out.” He gave her a smug wink.
“Nothing left to chance, nothing spontaneous?”
“No, I haven’t got to where I am in my career by leaving anything to chance.” He turned and glanced around the room. “Take the afternoon off. You can make up the hours early tomorrow morning, tidying up this room.”
“Sage you have got to be the biggest dickhead God ever put on earth.” She snatched her hand away. “Why I put up with your crap for the last eight months I don’t know. But I’m not doing it anymore. Go find yourself another bitch to order around and deride. Because it’s not going to be me.” She tugged at the door, but it suddenly slammed as Sage threw his weight against it.
“But you love me! I know you do.” He stared down at her, his expression urging her to admit it.
“No I don’t love you. There’s only one person who loves you, and I’m looking at him.” She yanked at the door. “I’m going, Sage. Don’t bother trying to change my mind. We’re through!”
* * *
Sage stared after her as she stormed down the corridor, her wide hips swaying, and disappeared. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and wondered if she meant any of what she’d said.
Maybe he’d give her a day or two. She’d miss him; he knew that. Sage was confident that his looks would get her back, that she’d soon be begging to start over again. He grinned. He’d make her wait, and then she’d be only too willing to do what he wanted. Sage pulled his mobile out and rang his friend. It paid to be in this business.
“Hi David, how are things?”
They exchanged the usual greetings.
“Yes, fine. I need a favour, can you get me the number of Rita? I understand she’s the best sex therapist around. Yes, I know. No, it’s not for me. But I need to make an appointment as soon as possible. Okay, thanks.” He hung up, confident she’d be crawling back to him, that she was already regretting her decision.
Whistling a tune, he left the devastation of his office, closing the door behind him.
* * *
Amy glanced up as Grace came hurtling down the corridor, her fingers clutching her shirt across her bouncing breasts.
“What’s happened?” Instantly Amy took in her pale face, the dried tearstains, and her swollen eye. “Was Sage really mad? Did he do that?”
She shook her head. “No, that prick Dr. Connell attacked me, tried to rape me. Would have if it wasn’t for Breece.”
“No shit! What did he do?”
“It was scary, Amy! He went ballistic, turned into a demon and all but killed him. Think he would have if I hadn’t been there.”
“Aw, come on, stop teasing me.”
“I’m not … it’s true … and then Sage comes in and accuses me of lying. Insisting that Dr. Connell wouldn’t touch me.”
“Shit, the sanctimonious bastard. Does he believe you now?”
“Don’t know and don’t care. We’re through, told him it’s over.” She reached for the cardigan she kept in case she got cold. Slipping her arms into it, she buttoned it up.
“Serious?”
Grace nodded. “And guess what? He said he loved me, wants to marry me.”
“And you turned him down? Are you crazy? I thought that’s what you wanted?” Amy, an emotional eater, reached for her stash of chocolate.
Grace gave a sad, haunting smile. Her eyes dimmed. “So did I, but Breece has made me realize what love is. Amy, I love him so much. I’d give up everything I have to be with him.”
“Holy cow!” Amy slapped another chocolate into her mouth, sucking hard. She was in a feeding frenzy.
“Sage said we’d get married sometime next year … when I’d finished with my sex therapist, when I’d lost weight, when I’d learned social skills. Basically when I’d turned into the woman he thinks I should be.”
“The asshole.”
Grace reached for a chocolate and nibbled on it. “Breece trashed his office, so Sage told me to take the afternoon off, to turn up early, work my hours back tidying it up.”
“I can’t believe what a knob he is,” Amy said, “but I’m glad you realize it at last. Looks aren’t everything when you’re forced to live with a prat like him.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. Go on, you go for your lunch. I’ll cover for you then go home.” She rubbed her forehead as a wave of fatigue washed over her. Her eye ached and she wanted to place a pack of ice on it.
“Nope, you go home now. You look exhausted. Don’t worry about me.” She pulled the drawer open; it was a tuck shop delight, filled with chocolates biscuits and crisps. Everything Sage said she shouldn’t eat.
Grace hesitated. “You sure?” She wanted to leave, to see Breece, to have him hold her, make her feel safe, but then a sudden desperate fear ate into her. What if he’d left? She gave a shake of her head; he wouldn’t go.
At least she bloody well hoped not.
The phone tinkled Amy picked up the call and paled. “Grace, you’re needed. Your friend Edie has taken a turn for the worse.”
Grace was so glad she’d told them in oncology to ring reception, and if she wasn’t there, then to contact her on her mobile. She’d made a silent oath that Edie wouldn’t be a
lone when she died.
“Fuck!” Grace spun around and raced down the corridor. All thoughts of Breece vanished. Her friend needed her now. Her heart hammered with fear at what she’d find. But she had to see her for one last time and explain there was a life to look forward to. That death wasn’t final.
They had visited many times—usually at lunch—since Breece had entered her life, but Grace had never mentioned him, preferring to draw Edie out about her own adventures. Edie loved animals as she did, and had a lot of wonderful stories about them, how human they could be, how comforting. When the old dear had asked about the new glow in Grace’s cheeks, Grace had wanted to tell her what was happening, but she didn’t know how Edie would react. Instead she just said she’d discovered a new erotica author who was fuelling her fantasies.
Edie had just laughed and said, “If you think of it, bring me one of those books when you’re done.”
Skidding into the ward, Grace found the curtains drawn around Edie’s bed. She glanced up to a doctor. “She isn’t …?”
“No, but it won’t be long. She asked for you.”
Grace swept the curtain back and gave a tremulous smile at the frail woman who had been her friend and confidante over the last few months. She was euphoric to be giving her news that the afterlife actually existed. But Grace was equally devastated she wouldn’t be seeing her again. Taking the nearby seat, she gently took her hand, which lay small and frail in her palm.
Edie’s eyes fluttered open. She struggled to gasp in a breath. “So, glad … I wanted to see ….”
“Hey, don’t speak.”
A chuckle spluttered. “Soon I won’t be”—she snatched in another precious gasp—“able to speak.”
“Edie,” she blurted out, “I have to tell you … please don’t think I’m crazy, but I’m in love with a ghost. And yes, they do exist.”
Edie gave a shimmer of a smile and wheezed, “You’re not … crazy, child.”
“I would have told you sooner, but I’ve had to get used to the idea, and—”
“Ssh, Grace. No need … to explain.”
“I mean it,” she said with a vigorous sniff, “you’ll be meeting up with your Ron, and he’ll be waiting for you.” The tears flowed freely now. “Edie, I’m so going to miss you.”
“Me too, and”—another gasp followed—“he’s your true love?”
“Definitely, and now I know why you never married.”
Edie closed her eyes. A smile still hovered around her lips. “I’m glad, you deserve it.” A soft sigh rasped out of her mouth.
Edie’s head fell to one side, and her hand lay limp in hers. Grace raised it to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “I love you Edie, and I hope you meet your Ronald soon.”
As she scrubbed at her tears, she was suddenly distracted by an invisible aura that surrounded Edie. Her eyes fluttered wide in amazement as she watched Edie’s spirit leave her body.
Though almost transparent, the spirit that was Edie looked healthy and ageless as she rose into the air, a radiant smile on her face. “Finally I’m free of pain,” she said in a voice that seemed to come from inside Grace’s head rather than the spirit, “and now my Ronald awaits me. Take care Grace, and enjoy your man Breece, because he loves you very much.”
Grace stared in disbelief as Edie walked into the arms of a copper haired man, his features blurred. A swirling mist surrounded them, wrapping around their bodies, and in an instant they vanished. She wondered how Edie had known Breece’s name.
Edie was right; a lot of strange things went on in life that were unaccounted for.
As sad as she was at losing her friend, Grace felt a profound relief that Edie had found her Ronald. That death wasn’t the end for her, but the beginning. Grace felt a warm glow and suddenly experienced a surge of hope and happiness.
She realized there was no need to explain to Amy or Breece about Edie’s passing. Amy expected the outcome; she believed in the afterlife. And Grace had a strange hunch that Breece had also been nipping in for private chats. Her heart lurched at the thought. Sweet kind-hearted Breece, her man, now and forever.
* * *
Grace had been home for over an hour, wandering through the empty house. It remained silent. She was suddenly scared, terrified that he’d left her. She rubbed a hand across her head, which thumped from a whopping tension headache. She tried to hold a pack of frozen peas over her eye, but it stung, so she threw the peas back in the freezer.
Finally she decided to cave in and go to sleep. On slow treads she headed to her bedroom. Stripping off her clothes, she unplaited her hair and loosened the long tresses. Naked, she slipped beneath the sheets. Her head sank into the pillow, but not before she hit the three extra pillows onto the floor. Closing her eyes, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
She didn’t know how long she’d slept. Her lids fluttered open, a sludge of tiredness still coating them. And then she froze. He was back, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. Grace wondered why he remained invisible; he only faded like that when he was angry or upset.
“Breece?”
Silence greeted her. He was playing ’possum, yet she couldn’t work out why. “Breece? Please? I need you.”
He appeared beside her, his beautiful face a mask of misery.
She understood, could read his pain. She held her arms up. “I don’t love him, Breece.”
Relief worked its magic on his tortured features. His entire face brightened with hope.
“I told him it’s over.”
“You did?” At last he spoke. Still, he didn’t move. The cords on his throat strained as he swallowed.
Grace continued to hold her arms up, invite him in. She wanted to hold him close, never let him go. “It’s you, Breece. I love you.”
“Grace.” He snatched her to him, cradling her so tight she had trouble breathing. “Baby, you don’t know how much that means to me. I love you so Goddamn much, it hurts.” His lips swept over hers, pushing them apart. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, wanting to claim ownership, possess her.
She was his. Had been since the first time he’d clapped eyes on her.
Nothing or no one would ever part them.
With shaky hands, she dragged her fingers through his hair. “I was scared you’d left me.”
“Never, Grace, I’ll never leave you. Not in this world or the next. Wherever your heart is, so will be mine.” He dropped his head, nuzzling her throat, then pulled back. He studied her tits, the bruises plain, already purpling, the finger marks clear. His jaw clenched, and the fury swept through him once again. “I could kill that bastard. Wish I had.” He pressed a soft kiss to the swelling on her eye.
“You scared him enough that he’ll never touch me again, and these will fade.” She tried to kiss his hurt away, dropping a little row across his shoulders. “Why did you leave when Sage said he loved me?” She knelt on the bed. Breece sat in front, his arms linked around her.
“I couldn’t face listening to you telling him you loved him.” He bent forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “Call me a coward, but to hear you tell another man what I wanted to hear was something I couldn’t face.”
Gently she cupped his face. “I’d never say it to anyone but you.”
Breece sighed heavily. “I want to wash the stench of his hands off you, and then, baby, I’m going to make lazy love to you.”
She shrieked as his hands slipped around her, scooping her up into his arms. Gripping him around his neck, she gurgled with laughter. “What’s lazy love? I expect you to put a bit of an effort into it.”
“Lazy love, baby, goes on for hours and hours. Think of it as tantric sex, except this is the Breece Denson version.” He stumbled, almost fell, then frowned. “How the hell did I know my surname?”
“No idea.” Grace didn’t care. She was so happy she could scream it from the rooftops. Breece was hers. Yet still the doubt remained: how would he cope with her aging while he remained young and virile? She nipped his neck
, pleased at his reaction. It fetched him away from the air of distraction that had settled on him.
When they were again together beneath the shower’s spray, she saw how his eyes narrowed, detected the hurt that burned from them as he inspected her bruises. Tenderly he washed her, following each sweep of the sponge with a burning kiss. She clutched his head, holding him to her, throwing her head back and wanting him with a wicked abandonment.
“You’ll do.” His voice was hoarse with the effort it cost him to stop from ploughing into her.
“And now it’s my turn.”
Her palms explored every inch of his body, and her fingers dipped and rolled, sliding over him. She smiled at the effect of her touch—the clenching of his muscles, the sharp gasps of breath. Suddenly Grace felt her wrist caught up.
“That’s it, I’m clean.” He flicked the shower off, and grasping her hand, led her back to the bedroom. His long strides covered the distance with a speed born of desire.
“Hey, whoa, don’t forget me.” Grace trotted behind him. Her breath left her body when he scooped her up again as if she were a feather. “Breece, careful you don’t injure yourself.” Then a rocket of a gutsy laughter shot out of her.
“What’s so funny?” He glanced down at her. He liked her giggles, which sent a swirl of shivers along his spine.
“You’re dead, so why am I worrying about you injuring yourself?”
“Because you love me,” he teased back.
“True.” She screeched when he threw her on the bed, quickly joining her there. “We’re still wet,” she protested.
“Baby, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll be a lot wetter than you are now.” His hand slid down to her moist heat, pushed between her legs and scrunched her pubes. He ran his fingers up and down in a long, slow scrawl as his gaze soaked over her.
Then, one by one, he sucked her nipples, popping each out of his mouth before taking the other. “You taste fucking good, baby.”
“Speaking of which, I owe you.” She rolled over and slid down his body. Her small hand covered his cock. “Mind if I take this and suck on it?”
