Nicole: Star Crossed Lovers (A Wish for Love Series Book 2)

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Nicole: Star Crossed Lovers (A Wish for Love Series Book 2) Page 8

by Shales, Mia


  He came upon Nicole and Marie sitting on the bench opposite the small fountain. He put one foot up on the bench and leaned on his thigh, his other hand lightly brushing a lock of Nicole's hair from her cheek. He didn't seem at all discomfited by Marie's presence.

  "Marie's been telling me all about the island and its inhabitants and the traditional dances where the men pretend to be an ancestor or legendary figure. It's unbelievable that people in this day and age still believe in sorcery."

  "I see Marie has won you over with her beloved tales. Be careful she doesn't work one of her spells on you. Has she already told you about the spells that can be used to further love affairs?"

  Marie giggled. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine without my spells."

  "Can you really do sorcery?" asked Nicole, entranced by the idea.

  "No, my dear. Magic is taboo for women. Only the old men in the traditional parts of Vanuatu know the ancient spells."

  Nicole looked so disappointed that Daniel and Marie exchanged amused looks.

  "But I'm sure some sort of magic can be arranged," Marie added hastily, attempting to keep a serious face. "The next time you come I'll ask the village magician to bless you. I'm sure that for a nice fee he'll be glad to do so."

  Nicole's face lighted up and they all, herself included, burst into laughter.

  "We must leave soon," said Daniel.

  Marie stood up. "I'll prepare a light supper before you go."

  When she looked through the kitchen window a quarter of an hour later she saw the dark head of her employer leaning over the fair hair of Nicole as they engaged in a passionate kiss.

  "Joseph, come over here," she insisted to her husband who was sitting behind her at the table.

  "Don't be so nosy, woman," he scolded but couldn't stop the smile that spread beneath his mustache as he peered through the window.

  Chapter Six

  "What do they look like?" Nicole asked Daniel as the plane took off.

  "Who?"

  "Your sisters." At Daniel's insistance she borrowed a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt of his sister for the trip. We are exactly the same size, she thought.

  Daniel stood up. He was still wearing the washed jeans and blue shirt. His hair was unruly and he resembled a surfer rather than a respected producer. "I'll show you their photos."

  She followed him into the bedroom and sat at the edge of the bed. He opened his ipad and sat down beside her. The first picture showed the two sisters and Daniel, all in evening dress, sitting in an elegant room. One looked sweet and pretty with chestnut hair and dimples in her cheeks. The second was gorgeous with a striking resemblance to her brother. She had long black hair and blue eyes that looked directly into the camera. Her cheekbones were high and her nose straight and symmetrical.

  "That's Carla," Daniel said, pointing to the beautiful girl. "She is Marcello's twin and organizes fashion shows. The clothes you chose are all hers. And that's Francesca. She's the youngest and the smartest. She's a resident in cardiac surgery at NYU Hospital in New York."

  "Are they married?" Nicole asked curiously.

  "Carla is married and they have a three year old daughter. Francesca's husband is also a doctor and they don't have children as yet. Marcello has been living in Boston with a partner for the past ten years and they have a son. Marcello and Alexia claim that the marriage ceremony in itself is of no importance and what unites them is their desire to be together. Anything else, they believe, is artificial and suffocating."

  "I respect that."

  "Me too, but I still believe there's something ennobling and sacred in the marriage rite. A sort of public announcement of your willingness to make a commitment and devote yourself exclusively to another person. Someone you believe you can love till the end of time. I guess I'm an old fashioned guy."

  He showed her another picture. An older but still beautiful woman sitting in an armchair. On the armrest was a silver-haired man, his hand across his wife's shoulders. These were his parents. He was the image of his mother but the blue eyes were inherited from his father. There were several other pictures of the two sisters and their husbands as well as one of Daniel carrying Carla's daughter piggyback on his shoulders.

  "I'm sorry I don't have any photos of Marcello. I must ask him to send me some."

  It was almost ten o'clock when they landed in Cairns. The Mercedes was waiting at the carport where James had parked it the day before. Nicole found it hard to believe that it was only yesterday she had let herself be persuaded by James to alight the plane on its way to the enchanted isle. It seemed to her that it had all happened a long time ago. James drove quickly and the car stopped in front of her house in less than half an hour. She expected Daniel would escort her to the door and bid her goodnight, but it appeared he had other plans.

  "Pick me up tomorrow at five in the morning," he instructed James and took her clothes in one hand and his computer bag in the other. "Filming starts at six. Until then I don't want to be disturbed."

  "Very well, sir," James answered calmly.

  Nicole felt happiness wash over her. He had no intention of leaving her. At least not tonight.

  She ushered Daniel into the living room and lit the lamps. He examined the room. "Was this the way your house looked when you were growing up?"

  While her parents were alive the house had been filled with heavily ornate expensive furniture. After her father's death three years ago she sold off everything. She painted all the rooms in white and cream, hanging fine lace curtains at all the windows. The house was redecorated with sofas and armchairs upholstered in light fabrics and with furniture painted in shades of brown, green and blue. The original somber and cheerless furnishings were discarded as though in that way Nicole could get rid of her melancholy memories.

  "No," she answered. "After my mother died and my father was hospitalized I cleared out the place and redecorated."

  "You have good taste," he noted and Nicole, knowing how critical he could be, was proud of his compliment. She had expended a great deal of thought and energy on the new look of the house.

  "How come the house was in your name?" He was not eager to open old wounds but the questions would have to be asked sometime and it was just as well that it be now. Then he could better understand and help break the chains that bound her to the remnants of her pain.

  "It's a long story. Parts of it even I didn't know when I first met you. I'll tell you all about it but first I'll get us some coffee."

  "Let me help you."

  "My mother," she began her story when they sat down, "was the only child of poor and extremely conservative parents. She was brought up in a small isolated village, lonely and cut off from the larger society. She never had friends her age and her yearnings for love and affection were poured out in her drawing. Over the years she channeled all her talents into her ethereal watercolors. When she was eighteen her parents sent her on her first trip to the city. My mother traveled alone to Sydney to spend the summer with her aunt - her mother's sister. It was in her aunt's house that my father saw her for the first time. He was handsome and son of a fairly wealthy family in Brisbane. He studied engineering with her aunt's son and was their guest during summer vacations. For my father it was love at first sight and she was swept away by the polished charm of the serious and sensitive man. With the aunt's encouragement the secret romance bloomed and they were wed at the end of that summer.

  My father's parents - my grandmother and grandfather - who were at first bitterly opposed to their son's hasty marriage made their peace with the couple and even agreed to support them until my father finished his studies. I was born a year later and before very long my grandparents were charmed by the round and dimply baby. The bond that was forged then lasted till the day they died and I used to stay with them for a month every year."

  "I'm not surprised. Anybody would fall in love with you."

  "My father had a brother, older by many years. He was a good-looking man but hi
s character was weak. He never managed to hold down a job for any length of time and the money his parents gave him would be quickly spent on gambling, women and drink. To their great dismay, when his debt became unmanageable, he returned to the family home to live. When I was two my father was killed in a work-related accident. My mother was heartbroken. She never recovered from the blow and even her infant daughter couldn't comfort her in her grief at her husband's death. My grandparents, no less disconsolate, approached the young widow with a proposition. She would marry her brother-in-law and in return they would assure the economic well being of her daughter. They would transfer the deed to the house and bungalow in Cairns to the baby and would name their son and daughter-in-law as trustees until the child was twenty-five, at which time she would gain control over the property. With this suggestion they hoped to achieve two things. They would assure their beloved granddaughter's economic security and would provide their unstable son with a warm family in the hope that he would reform and take on his responsibilities as head of the family.

  "My stepfather was a debauched and coarse drunkard but as long as his parents lived he put up a civil facade. They gave him enough money to keep up his lifestyle and he simply ignored our existence, disappearing for long periods while engaged in various dubious enterprises. Those years were comparatively good ones and I can remember happy days spent in my mother's company. Early in the morning we would walk down to the studio. She would set up her easel at the seashore and draw her pictures and I would sit beside her, imitating her movements with crayons. Later, under her tutelage, I began to paint oils on canvas.

  "When I was fifteen my grandmother passed away and two years later my grandfather followed. The will named me the sole heir, the inheritance to come to me when I should reach the age of twenty-five. My stepfather received a monthly allowance that assured him a decent income during his lifetime. From that day on my stepfather's condition deteriorated. He became ever more violent and treated my poor mother shamelessly. Her spirit broke and she was a silent, motionless shadow in his presence. Once or twice he beat her and I called the police. He was jailed for one night and released. The incident that you witnessed was the first and only time he dared raise his hand against me. He found out I was going out with you and fell into one of his paranoid fits of anger."

  "What happened after I left?" Daniel had to know.

  "As you know, two months later I found out I was pregnant. When my hopes of being reunited with you were dashed I began to think about my future and that of our child. Although today it's acceptable to be a single parent I thought it would be better for the baby to have a father. Eric owned a few art galleries. He was forty, widowed and childless. At that time I began to consider turning my art into a paying proposition and was looking for galleries ready to exhibit my paintings, which is how we met. He was very enthused about my work and believed that the right agent and public relations would make me famous. He was a perfect gentleman, cultured and refined. He was eager for an heir to carry on his lifework and made it clear in his subtle way that he would be satisfied with a platonic relationship if I would agree the baby would bear his name. I believe he was one of those rare persons who was truly asexual and felt no need for sex. At any rate, I was very fond of him. He was goodhearted and because we got along so well together I accepted his proposal. My heart was shattered beyond repair and I knew I would never find another love, so marriage to Eric suited me very well. Eric would arrange for my pictures to be exhibited in his galleries, the child would have a nice loving man as a father and I would have a husband with no physical demands."

  "I can't perceive that. You are a warm and sensual woman, how long did you think you could have gone on without a man's love?"

  "As long as it took. After Eric I had a few short relationships but they were a disaster. I could feel nothing. Eventually I stopped dating at all."

  "Go on."

  "I was four months pregnant at the wedding. We moved to Eric's house where I had a separate wing with a large, well-lit studio. Materially, I lacked nothing. I was very excited about the child in my womb and despite my promise that the baby would bear Eric's name, the awareness that the child was the fruit of our love granted me a measure of comfort and joy. Three months after the wedding we took Eric's car to an art exhibition in Port Douglas. A truck in front of us spilled oil on the road and Eric lost control of the wheel. I awoke in the hospital. My mother was by my bedside and she broke the news that Eric had been killed instantly and that I had miscarried."

  Daniel was astounded that she could maintain her sanity after the tragedies of her short life. He held her tightly and she responded, leaning her head on his shoulder while continuing to talk in a measured tone.

  "I didn't have to wait until twenty-five to distance my mother and myself from my uncle who was my stepfather. Fate had stolen all I held dear and prevented me from exercising my right to love but paradoxically, it had given me a great deal of money. Eric's death made me a wealthy woman."

  "And free."

  "Yes. At last I was free from my father."

  "What did you do?"

  "I decided to buy my mother a house of her own. I traveled to Brisbane to close the deal and upon my return was notified of my mother's death. I believe that emotionally she retreated from this world long before. I think she went knowingly into the eye of the storm. In the secret recesses of her heart she wanted to join her beloved husband and find a measure of peace and happiness."

  Nicole straightened and then leaned forward to cradle a cup of coffee. In the yellow light of the lamp her hair looked like a golden mane. She took a sip and nestled back into his arms.

  "It was a time of despair. Left without a support and unbearably lonely, I looked like a wraith, a shadow of myself. I turned again to art and painted as though my life depended on it. For days and nights on end I attacked the canvas in a rage, like a wounded lioness. When the paintings were exhibited at the local gallery I owned they sold out quickly and at high prices. I don't know how or why, but I suddenly felt a burden was lifting from my shoulders. Enormous strength surged through me and proved to me how strong was my appetite for life. When I lost you I felt my world crash about me and when my child died I felt I had died along with him. Incredibly, I neither died nor wasted away but managed for the most part to recover my native optimism. The ache remained of course, it never completely disappeared, but I managed to compress it into a tiny flame that burns everlastingly within a corner of my heart. Perhaps this flame will one day burn itself out and perhaps I'll have to learn to live forever with the memories and the grief. Only time will tell."

  Daniel stayed silent, his fingers riffling her hair. She waited for the lacerating pain that tore through her whenever she remembered that period of her life, but it didn't come. She felt tranquil and whole. She had never been able to bring herself to tell a soul all she had endured but now she rushed on, the words tumbling out, unable to stop.

  "I'm boring you," she apologized.

  "Not at all. On the contrary."

  She expected to see pity but saw only warmth and understanding in his face. "What are you thinking?" She bit her lips in vexation, surprised at her own question.

  "Do you really want to know?" His eyes were as clear as a cloudless sky on a sunny winter day.

  She shook her head in affirmation.

  "I thought perhaps another child would ease your agony." He saw the dark shadow that passed fleetingly in her eyes before she spoke.

  "I don't want another child," she lowered her lashes, "and I don't want to get married again." She hurt him and thus hurt herself.

  "I see," he said slowly. "If that's what you want, I have no choice but to accept it." He stood up.

  She felt the lump in her throat. He was going to leave her. She had let him down. She desperately wanted to turn the clock back to those moments of tenderness and intimacy they had experienced over the past two days and tell him she hadn't meant what she said but the words refused to be spo
ken. If he left now the pain wouldn’t be so terrible, but she couldn't take the risk of losing him with another child growing within her.

  "I'm sorry. I've disappointed you."

  "You could never disappoint me." His voice was clipped and assured, "you are honest with yourself and with me and I appreciate that. As long as you're at peace with your decision I'll accept it."

  "Would you be ready to give up children in order to be with me?"

  "Yes." He looked straight into her eyes. For a fraction of a second she saw pain until a blue velvet curtain came down and prevented her from reading his thoughts.

  Nicole woke up early. She opened her eyes and sat up. She could see the red bougainvillea flowering outside the bedroom window and the bluebird chirping on a branch. Her clothes were strewn about the floor near the bed and she stared at them with glazed eyes, still captive to the dark magic of last night. She closed her eyes. She could feel Daniel's body covering hers, the supple muscles of his back moving under her hands, the sweet taste of his lips. That night he conquered her by storm, the towering waves of his passion surging through her body and soul, and she submitted again and again to the ecstasy that overwhelmed her. He didn't smile, nor did he whisper sweet words, his eyes deep and shaded pools as she groaned and cried out his name. He was wild and free and they roamed savagely in the hidden valley of passion. There was no way back and no bounds of reason, there was only the frenzied need to vanquish her body. To gain a sure hold on her soul. To be the only object of her love.

  Nicole rose from the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was rumpled and her cheeks rosy. Her eyes shone like emeralds and when she touched a finger to her lips she felt how soft and warm they were. Her hand trailed from her lips to her neck, leading down to the cleft between her breasts, until she dropped it to her side. It took only a few days since their meeting for Daniel Miller to get under her skin again and link her soul to his. What was she doing to herself? Could she trust him? Could she bear another loss? Could she take the risk and abandon the calm and sheltered life she had managed to make for herself? She stared at her reflection and found no answer.

 

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