by Audra Hart
After using the necessary, she washes her hands and brushes her teeth. Then finally looks at the mirror. This is the chore she dreads every time she wakes up. Her hair is a wild mess, but she expected that after all the thrashing around in bed she had done today. The ‘just fucked’, well ‘almost fucked’, look doesn’t really do a thing for her. The memories of Luca pleasuring her make her feel warm all over even as she wonders why he only saw to her needs and not his own.
She grabs her new hair brush and starts to smooth her wayward hair into something that resembles a human being. When she notices what she’s wearing. She can’t help but chuckle. She puts the hairbrush down, and gives her reflection a critical appraisal. She muses out loud that she really doesn’t look half bad in the beautiful emerald bra and panties, well for an old bag that is. A little rounder than she probably should be, but Luca doesn’t seem to mind, so she decides that she doesn’t either.
She laughs at herself for speaking aloud again, “Dee ole gal, you’re talking to yourself again. That’s sure sign of a deranged mind.” She giggles at her own silliness and then decides she should wash her face. After several cold splashes of water, she reaches for the hand towel. As she’s drying her face off, the scar catches her attention. She always tries to pretend it isn’t there, but it’s a demanding demon. The scar and the memories of that horrible day demand she pay tribute regularly. But something is different… What the hell? She leans in closer to the mirror. “Either I am getting accustomed to the ugly red line or it’s starting to fade,” she muses out loud.
She hears a soft chuckle from the behind her. Her jaw drops because she was sure he wasn’t there a second ago. She drops her head and covers her face with her hands to hide her crimson blush, and asks him, “How long have you been there?”
He’s at her side instantly, removing her hands from her face and traps her wrists in his left hand. Then he gently places his very cool fingers of his right hand under her chin and tilts her face up to him. “Morna… we talked about this, baby. Please open your eyes!” he says in a strained voice.
As soon as she meets his eyes, his face softens with a broad smile. “That’s better,” his velvet voice soothes between tender kisses on her lips, nose, cheeks and forehead. “And to answer your question, beautiful girl, I came in when you started brushing your hair.”
“But I didn’t see you there!” she gasps.
He chuckles. “No, you didn’t. And I am glad. I rather enjoyed myself. I love watching you when you are relaxed. You are so cautious and reserved when you know someone is watching you.” He drops a kiss onto her lips and then smacks her ample butt gently. He smiles his lopsided grin, then spins her around to face the vanity. He points to the pajamas and says, “Why don’t you get dressed and meet me in the kitchen, your dinner is getting cold.” He kisses the top of her head and then disappears.
Jeez, how does he do that? Sneaking up on me, disappearing before my eyes! Wow!
She dresses without giving any thought to where the pajamas came from because she’s trying to remember exactly what she did after she brushed her hair. “Damn! He saw me give myself the once over in the mirror!” she hisses under her breath.
Amazingly, she swears she hears him chuckle softly in the kitchen. She is struck with the certainty that he can hear her. Her face turns red again, but she refuses to be a coward. She marches out of the bathroom into the bedroom. She snatches up the bottle of flavored water and takes a big swig because her mouth is suddenly very, very dry again. She lifts her head and squares her shoulders and walks to the kitchen to face him.
When she gets there she is pleased to see that he’s sitting at the kitchen table. He’s leaned back in a kitchen chair with his right foot crossed over his left knee. His hands are casually folded on his lap. He’s wearing gun-metal gray silk pajama pants, and a pale blue A-shirt. He looks amazing! The muscles in Morna’s belly clench, and she feels her body heating again at the sight of him as her fingers itch to trace the hard contours of his body. His bright blue eyes are so luminescent that she wonders briefly, irrationally, if they would glow in the dark. The red highlights are glistening in his hair under the kitchen lights. He gestures expansively toward the table and says, “Won’t you join me? Your dinner is getting cold.”
Deidra ignores the food and walks over to him. He stands up and wraps his arms around her. “Did you rest well, my Morna?”
“I haven’t slept this much since I came out of the coma. What kind of magic are you working on me, Lucian Michaels?” She cocks her head to one side looking at him, like she’s trying to figure something out.
“Nothing special, baby. Just a little tender, loving care.” He cups her face and kisses her nose. “Now please, my Morna, eat! You haven‘t eaten a real meal in over twenty-four hours.”
Deidra walks back over to the table and looks at the aluminum foil take out containers. The largest is filled with grilled chicken and Alfredo sauce tossed with linguine. A smaller one contains a salad, while the smallest container holds what looks like her favorite restaurant’s famous tiramisu. Hmmm, all of her favorites from her favorite restaurant in the next county. “You went to Bella’s?” He nods.
There’s also a bright green linen napkin and silverware beside the food. Her stomach growls and she remembers all she has eaten today has been a few bites of fruit at 7:00 a.m. She looks at the kitchen clock and is shocked to see it’s now 8:00. Once quick glance out the kitchen window confirms it’s nighttime.
“Thank you Luca,” she gushes as she sits down, moves her silverware to pick up the napkin and spread it across her lap. Then she picks up a fork and tears into the salad. She’s so hungry that she forgets to be self-conscious about eating in front of him. She doesn’t even wonder why he’s not eating.
She is halfway through her salad before she pauses to open her coke and pour it over the ice in the glass. After taking two big drinks. She wipes her mouth with the napkin and says, “I can’t believe I slept all day!”
“Well, it wasn’t all day exactly,” he drawls happily. “It was almost one in the afternoon before you went back to sleep.”
She nearly chokes on her salad. Then she asks, “Really!?! We were… I mean… you… that long?”
“Yes, Morna,” he drawls again with a pleased smile. He has resumed his seat and posture. He looks just like he did when she entered the room. He’s wearing that lopsided grin she loves and his eyes look like he’s ready to devour her whole. Everything south of her waist does flip flops, and she crosses her legs tightly and exhales slowly, trying to calm herself.
She meets his eyes and he’s looking at her with a very, very knowing look on his face. There’s not a trace of a smirk, nor any cockiness, just knowing. She smiles back at him, tentatively before she returns her attention to her food. She’s halfway through with her pasta when she pushes it back, feeling full. She drinks a little more of the soda and then wipes her mouth shyly with the napkin. Now that she is no longer ravenous, she’s a little more insecure. She looks up at him and he crooks his finger at her.
She gets up and walks around the table to stand in front of him. He doesn’t move an inch, but his eyes follow every move she makes. “How you feeling, baby?”
She moves his foot off his knee, and then straddles his lap. She entwines her fingers behind his neck and plants a quick kiss on his chilly lips. Then she remembers the onions and peppers on the salad, she self-consciously covers her mouth with her hand and starts to get up to go brush her teeth. His arms wrap her in his solid embrace and she can’t move. “I’ll be right back. I just want to brush my teeth,” she whispers.
He loosens his hold on her, “It’s not necessary, Morna, but go ahead if it will make you more comfortable,” he assures her.
“It would. I’ll be right back,” she promises as she hops up and heads for the bathroom.
When she returns, he has cleared the table except for her coke and the dessert and a fork. She shakes her head in amazement because he looks like he
hasn’t moved an inch since she left to go to the bathroom. That’s odd.
She starts to sit in the chair next to him, when he growls softly, and says, “Get back over here, woman.” His grin and smoldering eyes belies the growl and tone. So, she steps over to him and resumes her straddled position on his lap, and smiles happily when he places his hands possessively on her hips, caressing her ample flesh through the pajama pants.
This time, she is feeling more confident after brushing her teeth and gives him a real kiss. She revels in the ice cold hardness of his lips, the soft, bristly feel of his whiskers. Her tongue traces his lips and she’s disappointed that he doesn’t open them to allow her to deepen the kiss. But she is nonetheless enjoying the fire this intimate contact kindles in her belly. When he does part his lips slightly, she inhales deeply and feels her head spin.
She pulls away regretfully and rests her head on his shoulder with her face turned away from his strong neck so that she can catch her breath. He rubs her back slowly, turns his head to kiss the back of hers, and patiently allows her to set the tone for the encounter. He promised her answers, but only to the questions she asks directly. She has to be ready before she hears the answers.
When some semblance of normalcy has returned to her body, she raises her head and looks him in the eyes. Oh God, those impossible blue eyes! She clears her throat and then says, “Thank you for a beautiful day and a delicious dinner, but I think you promised me some answers.”
“You know that I did, my beloved. I am simply waiting for your questions,” he drawls lazily. His demeanor calm. “You want to stay like this or move into the living room?” he asks.
She smiles wickedly before giggling like a girl, and then squirming on his lap. She’s delighted to see a heated look come into his eyes. She giggles again as she gently presses her core against his obvious erection. She kisses his neck softly and says, “I think I better move, don’t you? Or I may forget my questions.” She sighs and whispers; “Oh what I could do with you sitting here like this.”
He grunts in agreement, and the next thing she knows, she is sitting on the sofa and he is sitting on the heavy coffee table in front of her with an expectant look on his face. “How’s this?” he asks. He leans forward and puts his hands on her knees.
“Perfect,” she whispers. How the hell does he do that? She starts to feel panic rising in herself. Where to start? How do I admit what I suspect?
As though he has read her mind he says, “Why don’t you ask the question I just saw in your eyes?”
“Okay… how did we get over here so fast?” she asks softly.
“I’m very, very fast,” he says. He smiles reassuringly at her, encouraging her to ask him anything.
“And strong!” she mumbles. He has lifted her one hundred and eighty pounds on several occasions like it was nothing.
“Yes, that too,” he agrees with a small smile.
“Okay… how can you stay in the same position for so long without moving?” she asks.
“I am patient. My body never aches from staying in the same position. I could hold the same pose for hours or days without moving, without feeling any pain or discomfort.”
“Wow! Okay, okay… let me think… you are very pale, and your entire body from head to toe is rock hard. Sometimes, you feel as cold as ice when I touch you. And I have never seen you sleep, ever. I have crashed on your couch a few times, and you never seem to sleep when I am here.”
“All those things are true,” he easily confirms. He’s having fun with this little question and almost answer session.
“I’ve never seen you eat anything until that strawberry this morning,” she says breathlessly.
“True,” he acknowledges.
“Okay, I think I have known for a couple of weeks, at least, but I need you to confirm it for me. Okay?” She leans forward and gently strokes his face with her fingertips. She looks into his eyes, seeking her answers there before she voices her next question.
“Go ahead, Morna. You can ask me anything. You have nothing to fear from me, ever,” he says calmly, radiating reassurance.
She kneels before him and kisses him passionately. She places her hands on both sides of his face, and then inhales deeply before taking the plunge off the deep end of her sanity and saying, “I know that you are not an ordinary human. So, what are you?”
“Very direct! Beautiful! That’s my girl!” he chuckles and kisses her lips gently. And then he gets serious. He almost looks afraid now. It’s his turn to take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Morna, I am a vampire,” he says quietly, as he lovingly strokes her cheek with his fingertips.
Morna stills at his answer, but doesn‘t try to move away from him. “But you hunt animals not people, right?” she asks without any hesitation, not sure how she knows this.
“That’s right,” he answers with a small, strained smile.
“So that’s why I have dreams about you stalking cougars in the wild?” she squeaks.
He chuckles again. “Yes baby, I suppose it is.”
“How do I know that?” she asks.
“Once, a very, very long time ago, I mind-shared a hunt with you. I guess on some level you still remember it,” he shrugs.
“Mind share? Oh well, never mind that, for now.” She remains seated on the sofa and absorbs what she’s learned so far, and then asks, “About… uh… your vampire status,” she whispers. “You have never hunted a human, right?”
“No, my Morna, never,” He assures her quietly.
“So I don’t have to be afraid of you.” It wasn‘t a question, but a statement.
“Well, you probably should be. Baby, I could easily hurt you because you trust me so much and never take precautions to protect yourself. But I will never hurt you, my beloved.” Lucian promises her fervently. “You are my whole world.”
“I know that,” she says confidently, and leans forward, cups his face and kisses him quickly. Then she pulls her hands back and looks down at them.
“You haven’t always been a vampire though, have you?” She asks timidly.
“No. Once, a very, very long time ago I was just like you,” he whispers, as he gently strokes her face with his fingertips.
“Like me? You mean a mere mortal, right?” she whispers.
“Not a mere mortal,” he states. He’s shaking his head gently with a playful, knowing look on his face.
She’s silent for a full minute, then asks, “I am not mortal?”
In response, he shakes his head no. “No, not exactly,” he says quietly.
She’s silent for another minute. “But I am not a vampire. I know that. So how can I be… not mortal?” she squeaks.
He takes a deep breath, stalling while he gauges how much he thinks she can handle at once. He decides she is ready. “Do you want me to tell you about our original life together? Are you ready for the truth, my beloved?”
She looks away and stares out the window at the nighttime sky for a few seconds, and then forces herself to meet his gaze, “Do I want to know? I know there‘s more to us than the obvious. I mean I have these… memories… But maybe they are just fantasies.”
She closes her eyes for a moment to calm her racing heart. She opens her eyes and smiles at the eager look on his face. “Luca, do I want to know about our original life together?” she wonders out loud wondering exactly what he means by ‘original life together’.
“God, I hope so, baby. I hope so.” he whispers. “I have been waiting and searching a very, very long time for you. I need my Morna back.”
The sadness that she sees in his eyes is overwhelming. Without any thought, she reaches out and caresses his beautiful face. She wants to wipe the sadness away, but she’s not sure how to do it. She then realizes that he really needs to tell her the story, so she must be ready to hear it. So she squares her shoulders, looks him directly in those impossible blue eyes and says, “Please tell me…” she whispers fearfully. “But can I ask a couple of questions first?”
&
nbsp; “Of course.” He has the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.
She stares into his eyes trying to frame the questions. A full minute drags by. “What’s wrong, Morna? Do you not want to ask me anything?” he asks gently.
“Yes, but the next two questions scare me. I am building up courage to ask them,” she admits.
He laughs long and low. “You mean the non-human, vampire thing didn’t scare you?” he asks wryly.
“Not as much,” she admits shakily, laughing at herself.
“Okay, I will be patient. Resume your questions whenever you feel ready.” He takes her hands into his and holds them gently, slowly running his thumb up and down her fingers.
Two more minutes go by as she frames and re-frames her next two questions in her mind. Finally, she gets disgusted with herself and blurts out, “We have known each other before, haven’t we? When we met at the hospital, when you came to my room with Seth Bailey, that wasn’t the first time we ever met, was it?”
He shakes his head no, searching her eyes carefully, gauging her readiness; “No Morna. That wasn’t the first time we met,” he replies softly.
I knew it! My heart recognized him! My Luca.
She fiddles with his fingers for another minute. He brings her hand up to his lips, kisses them gently, and strokes them reassuringly. “Say it, Morna! Ask me when we met the first time?” he whispers eagerly.
“I feel like I have known you forever…. How long? I mean… when was the first time we met?” she asks, nearly inaudibly.
He reaches out and tips her chin up and looks in her eyes. “In October of the year 1260,” he says quietly.
His face seems to be swaying in and out of her field of vision. She opens her mouth to speak, then the blackness takes her under.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
When she comes to, she is lying on the couch. She is trying to make some sense of all the images that have been flooding her mind. She feels chilled and clammy and very weak. Her hair and clothes are damp. Luca is sitting on the floor by the couch. He’s holding her hands, and he looks very concerned.
