All My Tomorrows

by Colette L. Saucier

  “I’ve never played games with you, Alice. Never once.”

  “What do you call disappearing for a month after the night…the night we had together?”

  “I thought you must hate me. I thought even if that night had meant anything to you, I must have destroyed it.”

  “You might not play games, but you sure as hell talk in riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Giselle.”

  Waiting. “You gotta give me a little more than that to work with, Peter. This is not a script I’m writing.”

  He stood up and turned, facing the wall, hands on hips. “I thought, that night, perhaps your feelings toward me had changed, that you could… But then the next morning I woke up in bed alone, and it was as though the night before hadn’t even happened. When you found out about Giselle, you were so angry, running around, screaming like a madwoman!”

  “I would have said banshee, but go on.”

  “I knew I had ruined it – with my arrogance and superiority.”

  Frustration had now calmed her nerves, and she dropped her face in her hands. “Ugh! Peter! How had you ruined what?”

  “Us. What we had that night. What we could have. Giselle was in serious trouble because of me.”

  “You?”

  “Yes. It was all my fault.”

  “Oh? And how is the great and powerful Walsingham responsible for an actress in L.A. going off on a drug binge?”

  He turned to her then, his face so stricken she wished he would turn back. “I caused all of it. I didn’t stop Rich when I had the chance because I was more concerned about the reputations of the other actors. When Rich got here, I didn’t expose him to save Winnie some embarrassment. If I hadn’t made you promise not to say anything, you could have told Giselle the truth. I am the one who told Jack to leave Giselle, or she wouldn’t have run into Rich’s waiting arms in the first place!”

  “Oh.” He did have a point. “Well, if you put it like that, I guess it is your fault.”

  “You were so angry and upset, I knew you must blame me and hate me.”

  “Damnit, Peter, are you so egotistical you think if someone is angry they must be angry with you?”

  “Weren’t you? The only other time I ever saw you that angry was with me!”

  “I was just angry, and frantic, and worried, and upset! It had nothing to do with you! I was mainly angry with myself for leaving and not doing more to stop Rich or warn Giselle. I am as much to blame as you are. But you and I ultimately cannot control the behavior of others. Jack didn’t have to listen to you; he should have had more faith in Giselle! Giselle knew she shouldn’t be using drugs, and she chose not to listen to me. And Rich! Well, no one is responsible for the way he is except maybe his parents.”

  “You really weren’t angry with me?”

  “Why did you walk out on me like that?”

  “I thought you would want me to leave, like the night you said you hated me.”

  “Oh, don’t remind me of what I said that night; it makes me ashamed. I didn’t want you to leave. I wanted you to stay. I had something to tell you.”

  He walked the few steps to stand beside her chair. “What was it? What did you want to say?”

  “If you thought I hated you, why did you come back?”

  “Giselle said you would forgive me, but you are so passionate in everything, everything you do, everything you feel – whether it’s saving the soap or defending your friends or hating the heat or the way you sing or the way you kiss me – I didn’t believe it. Then Jack told me how you reacted to that engagement story when you thought I was marrying someone else. So I told my attorneys that you had to agree to the settlement. When you didn’t, when you said there was a place for me in ‘All Your Tomorrows,’ I began to hope.”

  He extended his hand and she took it and let him bring her to her feet before him. “But you’ll do the show?”

  “You said something to me that night that made me ashamed. You didn’t just talk about saving the show – you talked about saving jobs. I had not ever even considered it – all the people depending on this soap for their livelihood. How self-centered is that? I’ll stay through sweeps or a full story arc or whatever you need to save it.” Taking her other hand, he pulled her closer. “What did you want to say to me?”

  He touched her face, and every place his flesh met hers sparked with electricity.

  “Would you…would you rather be murdered or be a serial killer?” she asked.

  “I don’t care. Tell me. What were you going to say?”

  “What about your film career?”

  “I’m cutting back. Alice, I put my house on the market. I want to find a place up in Napa like we talked about. I want to get away from Hollywood and all the people here. You were right about everything you said – ever since I made it, I have been so arrogant and conceited and superior, and I’ve been surrounded by people who feel the same way. I want to move somewhere where I can become the person I want to be, for you. I want to be able to see my daughter and never neglect her like I did before. And I want us to go together, once you can give up the soap. You can write your novel or just drink wine and eat figs or whatever you want to do.”

  He pushed his fingers into her hair and held her head in his hands so she couldn’t look away. “What did you want to say to me that you didn’t because of my stupidity?”

  She couldn’t look away, so she closed her eyes, and he brought his face close to hers, his breath against her lips. She hadn’t thought she could say it, after this long, torturous month, but he had always known how to seduce her. With her heart pounding and as she struggled to catch her breath, she couldn’t not say it.

  “I love you.”

  She spoke so softly, releasing the words on an exhalation, she thought he couldn’t possibly have heard; but he must have because then he was kissing her, his lips moving against hers with gentle passion, which she returned. He stopped a moment and said, “I love you, Alice,” then kissed her again and again. “When did you know?”

  “That night in Napa, the moment you…” His lips saved her from finishing the sentence.

  “Yes. I saw it in your eyes. We’re a perfect fit.” The memory of that moment scorched her to her core as much as his mouth.

  “What were you going to tell me?” she asked between kisses. “That night in New Orleans.”

  He pulled back enough to gaze into her eyes. “I was going to ask you to marry me.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes…I was,” he said, punctuating their words with kisses.

  “That’s crazy...You hardly knew me.”

  “I’d worked with you here almost every day for weeks, and before I knew it was happening, I had fallen in love with you… I was in the middle before I knew I’d begun....I knew I wanted you…You were the only woman I wanted.”

  “But I didn’t even like you…I put you in an incestuous relationship.”

  “I took it as encouragement…I thought you didn’t want me kissing Giselle.”

  “How could we have gotten married? We hadn’t even slept together.”

  “It has been done before…and I did try to remedy that.”

  “And you thought I would jump at the chance at marrying a movie star.”

  “I cannot believe my own vanity.” He wound an arm around her and pulled her tight against him as he brought their mouths together and let their tongues tangle.

  “Will you?” he said when he came up for air. “Everyone already thinks we’re engaged. We shouldn’t disappoint them.”

  As he kissed her again – Oh, yes, please. Kiss me just like that – she couldn’t believe she actually considered it; but as he kissed her, she couldn’t imagine saying no.

  “Are you willing to give up being Miss McGillicutty?” The question came out as a rasp, and as he had his way with her mouth, his hands roamed out of her hair to her neck and over her shoulders.

  “I have a confession to make,” she said aga
inst his lips then resumed the kiss.

  “Oh?”

  “My name is not McGillicutty…That’s just my pen name.”

  “Mmm?...So what’s your real name?”

  Does he think his kisses will distract me from his unbuttoning my blouse?

  “Bristol,” she managed to say as she started on his buttons, but the exertion of all this kissing and talking and unbuttoning made them both out of breath.

  “And you changed it to McGillicutty?” He pulled her blouse free from her skirt.

  “I couldn’t think of anything else.”

  “Alice Bristol McGillicutty, say yes.” But how could she speak with his mouth over hers?

  “Yes,” she said quickly before he claimed her lips again, then he backed her up against the desk, pushed papers to the floor, and tugged at her skirt.

  “No more misunderstandings. You will marry me?” He pushed her skirt up as he lifted her to the desk, and she ran her arms around his neck as they continued to kiss.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m willing to wait if you want a big wedding… but after these many months’ suspense, I thought we could go to Vegas today.” His hands slid up her thighs as their tongues whirled around each other.

  “Yes,” she said, which incited another frenzied, deep kiss from him.

  “And do you know what I’m going to do to you now?”

  Oh, yes.

  Life is too short and precious for no.

  The end

  ALSO FROM THIS AUTHOR

  Pulse and Prejudice – A tale of love, blood, and desire. (From Secret Cravings Publishing.)

  This compelling paranormal adaptation of Pride and Prejudice tells the story of Mr. Darcy, vampire, as he endeavours to overcome both his love and his bloodlust for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  When the haughty and wealthy Fitzwilliam Darcy arrives in the rural county of Hertfordshire, he finds he cannot control his attraction to Elizabeth Bennet – a horrifying thought because, as she is too far below his social standing to ignite his heart, he fears she must appeal to the dark impulses he struggles to suppress

  Praise for Pulse and Prejudice:

  “I recommend this book whole heartedly. This is a good re-telling, gripping and entertaining.” Jane Austen Prequels and Sequels

  “5/5 Stars I was truly impressed, and it takes a lot to impress me. If you like P&P, you'll like this!” The Right Words in the Right Order

  “I loved that I felt like I was re-reading Austen.” My Little Corner of the World

  “This was a really wonderful version of P&P! It was perfectly done. Her way of turning this story into Darcy being a vampire was done with such finesse.” Amazon reader

  EXCERPT FROM

  PULSE AND PREJUDICE

  Darcy leaned in with his hands on either side of the doorframe and let his forehead fall against the door. He closed his eyes and imagined her lying on the bed, her hair splayed out on the pillow, the eyes that had challenged him so brightly just that evening now closed in repose. What little effort, how few steps it would take, for him to be upon her, taking what he needed, sating his thirst.

  He pushed himself away from the door and leaned back against the wall beside, despair filling him. He had stood watch over Elizabeth and her sister for two nights and had come back to do so again, to protect them from the very thing he now ached to do himself. The irony sickened him but did not staunch his desire. Gathering all the resolve he knew it would require to return to his room, he stepped away from the wall.

  Darcy turned just as the door opened and Elizabeth appeared. They cried out in surprise simultaneously.

  “Mr. Darcy!”

  “Eliz-a-Miss Bennet!”

  She was dressed in her night-rail and wrapper; and, though more modest than even her day dresses, the sight set his nerves on edge. Her hair hung down as he had imagined. She held one hand to her heart as the other gripped a candlestick.

  “Mr. Darcy, you frightened me! What do you mean by all this skulking about in the dark? How can you even see where you are going?”

  He steadied himself before speaking. “I seem to have mislaid my book. I was unable to sleep and thought to read.”

  “The Lord Nelson? I believe I saw it in the library on the sideboard.”

  He nodded. “That would be a good place for it.”

  She smiled. “Indeed. Although if you are looking for the second volume, you may have to wrest it away from Miss Bingley,” she said with a glint in her eye. He smiled at that; but then they both became sensible to the impropriety of their current circumstance and their close proximity. “I was on my way to check on Jane.”

  He knew he should step aside, but he did not. He knew he should look away, but he did not. He held her eyes in his stare, his resistance faltering. Another moment and he might have moved towards her, reached his hand to hold the nape of her neck, pierced her flesh with his aching teeth, pressed his mouth upon her lips; but the light from her candle illuminated his face, and he saw his wan reflection in her eyes. As with all those with his curse, he could not bear the sight of his own reflection, a vision of death itself. Her candle flickered out in an instant, and she gasped and broke her gaze.

  For more information, please go to:

  www.colettesaucier.com or

  www.pulseandprejudice.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Colette Saucier has been writing poems, short stories, and novellas since grade school and experienced early success in having several of her poems published in her junior high school newspaper. Her interest in literature led her to marry her college English professor, but eventually a love of history encouraged her to trade up to a British historian.

  Technical writing has dominated Colette’s career for the past twenty years; but finding little room for creativity in that genre, she spent fifteen months traveling to Britain and researching Regency England, as well as vampire lore and literature, to complete her first full-length novel Pulse and Prejudice, the paranormal adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, which follows the cursed Mr. Darcy as he endeavours to overcome both his love and his bloodlust for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  Colette’s other current projects include a sequel to Pulse and Prejudice entitled Dearest Bloodiest Elizabeth, set in Antebellum New Orleans. She lives in South Louisiana with her historian husband and their two dogs.