by Lynsay Sands
G.G. had obviously been asleep already by then, because she’d fallen right into a dream. She’d found herself in the Night Club office, H.D. curled up in his basket, and her working in the tight pencil skirt and blouse she’d worn for her first night of work, and G.G. had come in to check on her. Only instead of just popping his head in and speaking for a few moments, he’d entered and crossed the room to come around the desk, his eyes smoldering as they slid over her body.
He hadn’t said a word. He’d simply reached out, caught her by the upper arms to lift her to her feet and then had clasped her face in his hands and claimed her lips.
G.G. was an amazing kisser. At least, he was in dreams, and Ildaria had hardly noticed when his hands had slid into her hair, delving through the strands until the neat bun she wore it in for work was gone and her hair was sliding down to curl around her face, neck, and shoulders.
He’d lifted his head then, saying in that deep sexy rumble of his, “I want you. You’re immortal and I know I shouldn’t. But I want you so damn bad.”
The next thing Ildaria knew, she was climbing him like a palm tree. While his mouth claimed hers again, and she responded, she was also tearing at his clothes, desperate to touch his skin. Ildaria wasn’t the only one. He was tugging her blouse out of her skirt, sliding his big hands under to span her waist before they began to rise. Ildaria had pushed his shirt up his stomach, and was eagerly running her hands over the wide expanse of his chest when he suddenly scooped her up and turned to set her on the desk.
G.G. nudged her knees apart, and moved forward to fill the space he’d created. He didn’t stop until he was pressing against her core, and then his kiss turned deep and voracious. His hands moved to the buttons of her blouse and suddenly it was undone, allowing him to tug it open to reveal a lacy black bra beneath that Ildaria had never seen before. Obviously, it was his input to the dream, which she didn’t mind at all. It looked much nicer than the white cotton bra and panty sets she always wore in reality. At least, that’s what she’d always worn up to now. Though, she had gone out and used some of her tip money from her waitressing job to buy a black lace set similar to the one he’d dreamed up. It was pretty and sexy and she only had one set, so couldn’t wear it every day in the hopes that something would happen. So, she hadn’t put it on at all yet. She was saving it for a “special” occasion.
“Oh my, sex in the office,” Sofia breathed, drawing her from the memory. “That is steamy. The whole secretary-boss thing, love on the desk, the risk of one of us entering unexpectedly and catching you. My, my, my.”
“Accountant-boss,” Ildaria muttered, feeling her face burn with embarrassment at Sofia’s reading her thoughts.
“Yeah. That might be a problem.”
Ildaria glanced up in question. “What?”
“His being the boss,” Sofia explained with a frown. “G.G. might look like a rebel, but he has a lot of honor. I suspect he would never hit on an employee. It would be too much like taking advantage of his position.”
Ildaria was frowning now too, sure G.G. had said something about her being his employee in the dream and sexual harassment or something. But until now, it hadn’t occurred to her that her working for him might be a problem.
“Which means you’ll have to do the hitting,” Sofia concluded with satisfaction. “He wouldn’t feel he was taking advantage if you jumped him. And it can’t be sexual harassment either, since you’re the underling.”
“Right.” Ildaria sighed the word unhappily, rather doubting she could do that. She didn’t have a lot of experience in such things . . . unless you counted the dreams she’d been sharing with G.G.
“Never say you’re a virgin?” Sofia whispered with amazement, obviously having caught her thoughts about her lack of experience.
Ildaria shook her head stiffly. “No. I’m not a virgin.”
Recognizing the way Sofia’s eyes were concentrating on her forehead, Ildaria began to recite a nursery rhyme, but either she wasn’t quick enough or it just didn’t work now that she’d met a possible life mate. She realized that when Sofia’s expression turned sympathetic.
Ildaria stiffened. If she showed her the least bit of pity—
“Right,” Sofia said firmly. “Well, maybe we could work on it.”
Ildaria blinked, her grim expression turning to bewilderment. “Work on what exactly?”
“On your lack of experience. We could have you practice.”
“Practice?” Ildaria roared, outraged at the very thought. What was she thinking? That Ildaria should go pick up some man and—
“Not the sex,” Sofia said with exasperation, obviously picking up her thoughts. “The showing that you’re interested part, flirting and how to hit on him and make your interest known. Or maybe we can come up with ways for you to show your interest in other ways. Like wearing a sexy negligee when G.G. arrives to pick up H.D. one morning after the club closes.”
She paused and pursed her lips briefly, and then said, “Although, you’d probably still have to make a move on him. I suspect other than your ripping his clothes off and tackling him to the floor, nothing short of a Fuck me sign hanging from around your neck when you answer the door is going to move him past his honorable disposition. If that even worked. It might make him worry there’s something wrong with you. Mentally.”
“The very fact that I’m sitting here listening to this nonsense proves there is something wrong with me mentally,” Ildaria said dryly.
“That and many other things,” Sofia agreed easily, but then softened the words by adding, “But then most of us have our issues. You can’t live life without gaining an issue or two along the way.”
Ildaria nodded at those words of wisdom, believing them wholeheartedly. She’d met a lot of people in her life, especially while sailing with Vasco. They’d lured a lot of people onto the ship, and almost all of them had had something in their minds that was distressing when she read them. Body issues, anger issues, memories of childhood abuse haunting their thoughts and actions. The few that had seemed well balanced and pretty much okay had been through some kind of counseling, easily read in their thoughts.
“Have you considered counseling?” Sofia asked softly.
Ildaria’s gaze shot to her and then away, but she just shook her head. She’d never been in a position to be able to afford counseling. Besides which, who could she go to? She couldn’t tell a mortal counselor or psychologist about being immortal.
“Marguerite’s son-in-law, Greg, is an immortal and some kind of psychologist or psychiatrist,” Sofia announced, obviously still picking up her thoughts. “Maybe he’d be willing to work out some kind of payment plan you could handle,” she suggested, and then added, “Failing that, Elijah says the university offers free counseling services to students. He’s taking medicine at the uni. Plans to be a doctor.”
“Si, he mentioned that,” Ildaria said. “But I can’t talk to a mortal counselor, Sofia.”
“Not about being an immortal, no,” she agreed, but then pointed out, “But a lot of your issues around sex seem to come from your childhood, when you were mortal. So if you stuck to that, the free counseling at university could work. Just avoid mentioning that your childhood was nearly two hundred years ago and you should be fine.”
Ildaria frowned at the suggestion, not at all comfortable with the thought of getting counseling.
“It’s up to you, of course,” Sofia said lightly, and then asked, “But would you really rather continue to carry around the trauma of your childhood for the hundreds or even thousands of years you might live?”
She let Ildaria think about that for a minute, and then said, “Hurry up and eat. Then get dressed. We’re going shopping.”
“Shopping?” Ildaria jerked her gaze back to the woman.
“For a nice little negligee or something. And romance novels.”
“Romance novels?” Ildaria asked with disbelief.
“They have lots of sex in them,” she said, as if that
should explain the matter. It didn’t, and when Ildaria’s expression showed as much, she patiently explained, “For pointers. Maybe ideas on how to seduce him, or at least what to do with him. We need to move this train along before it goes off the tracks.”
Ildaria started to shake her head. “I can’t afford—”
“It’ll be my housewarming gift to you. I haven’t given you one yet.”
“No. You—”
“Ildaria, you’re running out of time,” Sofia said, her tone serious. “G.G. has been avoiding you as much as possible since the dreams started.”
Ildaria dropped her eyes, a frown tugging at her lips. She had noticed that she saw less and less of G.G. during their waking hours. It was only in dreams that they spent time together and while they did some talking and sharing, most of the dreams were taken up with sex. Constant, heart-stopping, wake up sweaty and exhausted sex.
“He’s really struggling with his attraction for you, I mean seriously struggling. He’s starting to fantasize about kidnapping you and having his way with you and it’s scaring the crap out of him. He’s afraid he’s becoming an obsessive stalker type guy. Which he kind of is. I mean, all life mates go through it, but he doesn’t understand that’s what’s happening, and just thinks he’s turning into a freak,” Sofia told her unhappily, just reaffirming what Ildaria had picked up on in the latest dream. “You need to get him into bed soon, or he’ll fly off to England to avoid you, or to save you from him. I’m not sure which it is. He’s pretty messed up right now.”
Ildaria bit her lip and admitted, “He mentioned something about England in the dream, but—” But her memories from the dream were already getting fuzzy. They always did. The only thing that remained long was the memory of the sex. What they talked about before or after, always faded quickly.
“He’s thinking about heading back home to London, England,” Sofia said quietly. “The original plan was for him to stay through the summer and spend the winter in England at the other club, before returning for the summer here again. But he’s started making noises about flying back early and leaving me fully in charge all the time now that everything seems to be working smoothly here.”
“Oh no,” Ildaria breathed. “You don’t think he’ll really do that, do you?” That would certainly make it hard for her to convince him to be her life mate.
“Yes, I do. He was putting out feelers last night, mentioning to everyone who entered the club that he has a nice apartment and good pay for anyone who wishes to take over his job as doorman,” she told her sadly. “It’s why I came to see you today.”
“Damn,” Ildaria breathed, dropping back in her seat.
“Yeah.” Sofia eyed her sympathetically. “You need to step up your game, Ildaria, or you might lose the chance. I suspect he’s uncomfortable enough with his feelings for you that he might not return at all. He’ll just leave me to run the place and stay in England.”
Ildaria sat still for a moment, her mind racing. The last two weeks had been wonderful in a way. She had her own place, and she loved her job. It was true she and G.G. hadn’t spent a lot of time together when not dreaming, but the truth was she’d been too tired to really worry about it too much. And it wasn’t just the shared dreams that had been making her tired. Aside from her double duty at the Night Club, Ildaria had been working at the restaurant as well. She’d given her notice two weeks ago and had rearranged her shifts so they wouldn’t interfere with her work hours here, but that still meant she had been missing a lot of sleep, and what sleep she had got was not very restful thanks to the shared dreams. Dreams G.G. didn’t even realize he was sharing with her.
“He knows about immortals. Why doesn’t he realize we’re having shared dreams?” she asked with bewilderment.
“From what I’ve read from his mind, while he does know about shared dreams, and did wonder at one point if that was what he was experiencing, in the end he decided not.”
“Why?” Ildaria asked with surprise.
“Because he doesn’t feel like you are really there,” Sofia said gently, and when Ildaria’s confusion showed in her expression, she explained, “You’re letting him have his way in the dreams. The settings come from his thoughts, as does what happens. You never take control yourself, you just kind of go along for the ride. That’s probably because you’re not all that experienced,” she added quickly. “But whatever the case, it’s convinced him that he’s just having these dream fantasies about you on his own, and they’re so powerful and incessant that he’s beginning to feel like a perv.” She let that sink in and then said, “While Marguerite was concerned about how he might react to finding out he’s a possible life mate to you, and I did too, I think at this point he’d be relieved that he isn’t just gaining an unhealthy obsession with you.”
They were both silent for a moment as Ildaria considered that and then Sofia said, “Come on then, go throw on some clothes and we’ll head out to find you sexy outfits and books to help you seduce G.G. You can eat your sandwich in the car.”
Even Ildaria was surprised when she slid docilely off her chair and headed for the bedroom without argument. But she had to do something or G.G. would fly off to England. If he did, she could lose him altogether. Ildaria couldn’t afford to follow him right away, and he was mortal. Accidents happened. She needed to step up her game, and she had no idea how to do that. She needed help.
Seven
Ildaria glanced at the dashboard clock as she pulled into her parking spot, surprised to see that it was only 2 p.m. She and Sofia hadn’t been shopping long. Well, actually, Sofia was still at the mall. She said she had some things to get and would Uber it home. Ildaria had offered to wait, but Sofia had insisted she head home. She wanted her to get to work reading “the instructive books” she’d chosen and “get an idea” of what she needed to do to seduce G.G.
“Instructive books,” Ildaria muttered, reaching over to grab the two bags on the passenger’s seat. One held half a dozen romance novels and the other, a see-through nightie, all of which Sofia had picked and purchased for her. Getting seduction advice from romance novels was ridiculous enough, but the nightie . . . ? It wasn’t her style, but Sofia had guaranteed it would drive G.G. mad. Ildaria wasn’t so sure herself. She might as well stand around naked as wear the sheer white nightgown. It looked like it had been made from a bride’s veil, and to her mind was as obvious as that Fuck me sign Sofia had mentioned.
In fact, maybe wearing a sign would be good, Ildaria thought as she opened her door and slid out, dragging the bags with her. At least, with a sign, he couldn’t misunderstand what she—
“Ms. Pimienta?”
Ildaria paused to eye the approaching man who had spoken. He was coming from a dark sedan parked next to G.G.’s pickup. Which she would have noticed if she hadn’t been distracted checking the time and thinking about the seduction paraphernalia she’d brought home with her. Honestly, she’d spent nearly two centuries in a hyper state of awareness, always double and triple checking any area she entered or moved through. Now, suddenly she was flouncing about like an idiot, not looking around at all. This was how a girl got dead . . . or harassed by the FBI, she thought as she recognized the man.
His name was Jack Barr. He was the FBI agent she’d saved from a pack of gang members in Montana. Which had put the FBI on her tail there.
But as far as she knew the FBI hadn’t got anywhere close to figuring out who she was or tracking her down in Montana. How the devil had the man found her here?
She didn’t ask. Instead, while she normally avoided it, Ildaria read his mind . . . and nearly blushed at his thoughts. The man was terribly excited. He was sure he’d found his “angel” at last. Fortunately, he didn’t think of her that way because he knew her real first name, he just thought of her as “his angel.” It seemed he’d been obsessed with finding her since she’d saved him some months ago. He was also the impetus behind the FBI’s hunt for her in Montana which had caught Lucian’s attention.
&n
bsp; Ildaria wasn’t sure whether to thank him for that or not. On the one hand, it appeared he was the reason she’d been dragged out of Montana and lost a term’s worth of courses. On the other hand, he was the reason she’d been dragged out of Montana and brought here to meet her life mate. Which was another problem in itself. But the kind of problem every immortal wished for. Although, most would rather have an easy go of claiming their life mate than she appeared to have before her.
“Ms. Pimienta, my name is Agent Jack Barr. I’m—”
Ildaria cut him off right there, and continued to read his mind. Irritation flickered through her as she realized he’d found her through the video of her saving the student who had nearly been raped. Unfortunately, Lucian wasn’t the only one to spot that video. It seemed when she’d disappeared from the scene in Montana, Jack Barr hadn’t believed she’d simply stopped helping people. He’d thought perhaps she’d moved because things had got hot there. He’d started looking for similar incidents elsewhere and Toronto had popped up on his radar. He’d seen the video of her tossing around that would-be rapist who had been twice her size, and had been positive she was his “angel.”
Her name, however, had not been on the video that was now floating around the networks. But since that incident had happened on campus, as had most of the incidents in Montana, he’d looked for a student, professor, or employee who had moved from one university to the other.
Much to her surprise, her name wasn’t the only one to pop up; two others had transferred up from Montana this summer. Jack had got the contact numbers and addresses for each of them from the university, and was going through the admittedly short list, interviewing them one after the other. He’d interviewed the first two yesterday. Ildaria was last because he’d had trouble finding an address for her until he’d approached the university today and flirted shamelessly with a student helping out in the registrar’s office to get her to look up the address.
