The Light From Other Suns (The Others Book 1)
Page 10
“I have dreams like that too, sometimes,” Karen said. “But I can tell the difference between those dreams and the others, the ones I think mean something. Oh, I know they probably don’t mean anything, they just feel that way to me.”
“They mean something.” Alex spoke with surprising conviction. But he changed the subject immediately. “Here we are.” He pulled the car into a small gravel lot.
They’d driven into the mountains. As she climbed out of the car she could see nothing but trees and sky. A narrow path covered in pine needles branched off from the parking lot and led into the woods.
“We have to hike,” Alex said. “I hope you don’t mind. It isn’t too far.”
“I don’t mind.” Thank God she’d not changed out of her sneakers. She tied the sweater around her waist. It was much cooler than she’d anticipated.
“Come along, then.” Alex strode down the path. Karen followed, wondering where they could be heading but hesitant to ask.
Pine trees rose up on both sides of the path, their trunks straight and clean far up into the canopy. A tumble of brambles and scrubby shrubs filled the space between the trunks. The light that filtered through the pines dappled the path with gold. It was very quiet. No sound except a few distant birds and the rustle of unseen creatures moving through the undergrowth.
Alex, who’d been walking fast, with a purpose Karen could not guess, halted at one point to allow her to catch up with him. “We’re almost there,” he said, stretching his hand toward her.
She took hold, and he pulled her close, tucking her hand inside his elbow. He guided her a few more yards down the path, where they turned a corner and encountered a new sound, loud and swift as a rush of wings.
A few more feet and they stood in a small clearing. Before them, across a ravine, was a ribbon of water tumbling from an outcropping of rocks far above. Karen tipped her head to view the source of the falls.
“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out the words as if speaking might destroy the magic of the scene.
“That’s why I wanted you to see it, Karen. I knew you’d appreciate it like I do. Like no one else.” He stared at her intently, with a look that she, who had watched his face so closely, so often, had never seen before.
“I’m glad you wanted to share it with me.”
“There’s more I’d like to share …” Alex dropped her arm and moved a few feet away. “But I wonder if it’d be fair.”
“What do you mean?” The steady rush of the falls was filling her ears, louder than before. Or perhaps this sound was something else, something in her head.
“Well, as you mentioned earlier, I’m rather old. Or at least, rather older than you.” He kept his back to her. “And you know I take my work very seriously.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t dream like you, Karen, but I do have dreams. The waking kind. Dreams of discovery and new worlds and knowing—and finally understanding—so many things.” He turned. The light spilling into the clearing illuminated his face like an icon. “But I can’t deny my feelings. I’ve never been able to do that.” His blue eyes were fixed on her face. “It’s one of my many failings.”
“What feelings?” Karen hardly dared to breathe.
“Do I have to tell you? My sweet, oblivious Karen. You never see these things, do you? Even though you see other things so clearly.”
“Not feelings like mine. That can’t be what you mean.”
“Why not?”
Alex moved toward her, and Karen’s breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat.
“You don’t understand, Alex. You’re talking about something else. You must be.”
He moved closer, until he was standing in front of her, toe to toe. “What don’t I understand?”
“You don’t know how I feel about you.” She let it go—every fear, every caution, and all shreds of self-preservation. “I haven’t said anything, because I thought it was impossible, and I don’t like making a fool of myself.”
“I’m not blind. I suspected you might like me a little.” Alex bent his golden head until his eyes were lash to lash with hers. Karen instinctively stepped back, but Alex gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head upon her shoulder. “Or maybe more than a little?”
She did not move, could scarcely breathe. “I love you,” she whispered into his ear. The first time she’d ever spoken those words, and meant them.
Lips caressed her collarbone. His tongue drew a delicate trail, tracing the line from her neck to her chin. She shivered as if tossed into a snow bank. When his lips found hers she could do nothing but throw her arms around him and hang on, her legs trembling like a runner after a marathon, every inch of her body aware, alight.
His kiss against her mouth, questioning, and her answer, her lips parting—there was nothing else in existence, nothing else touching her consciousness. For once, all thought was overwhelmed by immediate reality, and, for once, her body took control of her mind.
FIFTEEN
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” Karen perched on Alex’s sofa with her legs crossed under her. She wore one of Alex’s shirts as a makeshift robe. Despite the fact that she’d spent every afternoon for the last month with Alex, she hadn’t dared to ask if she could leave any clothes at his condo yet.
Alex sat at a small writing desk, a stack of papers at his left hand and a red pen in his right. He looked at her over the top of the wire-framed glasses, which had slid down to the end of his nose. “I only use them when I have to grade papers, and I usually do that at the office. I certainly don’t wear them in public. As you may have realized, I’m rather vain. Now”—he stared back at the paper lying before him—“I have fallen behind this term, as you can see from my need to bring work home. Always a time crunch with summer classes, I’m afraid. But regardless, I must finish grading these papers before the end-of-course deadline, or I’ll be in trouble with the registrar. And trust me, no one wants that. The problem is you”—he pointed the pen at her—“are a great distraction. And don’t say sorry.”
Karen closed her mouth and hugged a pillow to her chest. Her summer job with the Morpheus Project ended in two days. She desperately wanted to stay in town, but since she’d only recently submitted her graduate application, there was no way she could attend school before the spring semester.
“I was offered a job at the art supply store,” she told him. “It wouldn’t be a lot of money, but perhaps I could afford to stay in town if I can find a roommate. And a cheap apartment.”
Alex sighed and laid down his pen. “I should probably finish this tonight when you’re at the Indigo Building. Sleeping.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt—just figuring things out.”
Alex sat back in his chair and appraised her. “What about that friend of yours? The one from the gallery. Thea, isn’t it?”
“Thea does have a new apartment, but she lives two hours away. Do you want me living two hours away?”
“Although it might help me get more work done, no, I don’t.”
“There’s a good chance I’ll get into grad school in the spring, so it would be a matter of making do until then. But I know my parents will expect me to come home if I’m not in school or working.” Karen sighed deeply.
“I don’t suppose you’ve told your parents about me?”
“No, not yet.” Karen lifted her chin and met his steady gaze. “Have you mentioned me to your family?”
Alex laughed. “Touché, my sweet. No, and I don’t intend to. Now, let me finish grading these papers, dreadful as they are.”
“Are they truly awful?”
“Unfortunately.”
Karen smiled. “One good thing. If the art store job falls through, Dr. Vance said I could come back to the Morpheus Project.”
“No,” Alex said. “I don’t want you to do that.”
“But if it means the difference between staying and leaving …”
Karen slumped back against the sofa cushions. “Okay.”
“Sorry, my sweet.” Alex’s expression softened. “I just don't want you in the project anymore. Selfish, I know, but I’d rather not mix business and pleasure.”
“I understand.” Karen uncrossed her legs and stretched, dropping her feet to the floor with a thud. “Got to get that other job, I guess.”
“I’m sure you will,” Alex said absently, his attention back on the papers.
The red pen was put to good use. Karen debated if she should get dressed and leave. She usually stayed for dinner, which was always some form of takeout. Alex, despite his many other talents, was no cook. Karen repeatedly offered to make dinner, but Alex refused. “You aren’t my maid,” he claimed. After dinner Alex would drive her to the Indigo Building for her appointment with the monitoring equipment. But this afternoon, she thought, it might be best if she left early. Alex seemed intent on his grading, and she’d no desire to interfere with his work.
“You know, Karen,” he said after some minutes had passed, “you could always live here.”
She sat up and stared at him in amazement. His head was bent over his work, and the red pen moved steadily across one of the pages.
“You mean, live with you?” An unattractive squeak marred the last word.
“Yes, since this is my condo, and I’ve no intention of moving, you’d be living with me.”
“Oh, I wasn’t fishing … I mean, I doubt you really want that.” She was babbling and bit her lip to keep from saying anything more.
“I think I know my own mind.” Alex laid down his pen and finally looked at her. “And, since you’d be spending most of your nights here, regardless of whether you have another apartment or not, you might as well live here.”
“Oh, would I?” Karen blushed crimson. She was no stranger to Alex’s bed, but talking about such things still unnerved her.
“Wouldn’t you?” he asked with a slight smile.
She met his gaze and nodded.
“I thought so.” He plucked another paper from the pile. “So that’s that. You can move in this weekend. Now go and call that Chinese place and order us some food.” He shot her a quick glance over the top of his glasses. “And put some clothes on, kiddo. Those legs are playing havoc with my focus.”
“What do you want?” Karen dropped the pillow and rose to her feet.
“Whatever. You know what I like.” Alex’s attention appeared to be focused on the new paper.
But when Karen passed him on the way to the bedroom Alex reached out and pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her, quite thoroughly, before he allowed her to get dressed.
The first night after Karen moved into Alex’s condo, she woke up disoriented, expecting to see the familiar block walls of her Morpheus Project room. Bound by the requirements of the dream-research job, she’d never spent the night before. She sat up in bed and studied Alex’s sleeping form. The faint light in the room turned his golden hair silver. She reached out to touch his back and felt his shoulder shift under her hand. He rolled over and looked up at her, his eyes, shadowed under long lashes, dark in the dim light.
“Hello,” he said languidly. “Awake? It’s still night.”
“I was thinking.”
“A dangerous activity.”
“I know. But I can’t help myself.”
“One more reason to love you.”
“Do you? Love me, I mean?” It was the darkness, granting her courage.
There was silence for a time. Karen wondered for several frantic moments if she’d overstepped the bounds of their relationship.
“I do,” Alex said, at last. “I know you’ll always doubt me, but it’s true.” He pulled her down and took her in his arms.
“You know I love you.” Karen laid her head on his chest. “And always will.”
“Always is a long time.” Alex stroked her hair.
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever happens in the future, I know nothing else will ever be this right, this perfect. I'll stand by that prediction. Nothing will ever be better than this.”
“First the dreams, now predictions?” Alex whispered in her ear. “You’re full of surprises, Karen Foster.”
“So are you, Alex Wythe,” she said, giving herself over to his hands.
SIXTEEN
Once she settled into her job at the art store, as well as Alex’s condo, Karen was happy to be done with the Morpheus Project. For one thing, it meant that she and Alex could be seen out and about as a couple, without anyone raising an eyebrow. But she also sensed that the project had changed, and not for the better. Alex seemed tense when he came home after a day that included any hours at the Indigo Building. It was quite different than the way he behaved when he’d just been teaching or working in his faculty office.
“Is everything all right?’ she asked one evening, as he slumped onto the couch. “You look exhausted.”
“Yes, everything’s fine.” Alex straightened and smoothed back the hair that had flopped into his face. “Don’t worry so much, kiddo.”
Karen made a face. She didn’t really care for that particular endearment, although Alex always said it with affection. “I’m not that young, and I am responsible. I’ve graduated college, and actually have a full-time job. Better than a lot of people my age can say.”
“I know.“ He looked up at her. “How is the job, by the way?”
She plopped down next to him. “Same as always. Not bad. I like helping people with their questions about paint and brushes and all that. And the discount is great, of course. Just wish I had a studio again, so I didn’t have to clutter up your place with all my gear.” She glanced over at a corner of the living room, where her easel sat on a piece of plastic placed over the carpet. Her other art supplies were in bins stacked up next to the easel.
“Don’t be silly, I love to watch you paint. And it’s our place.” Alex placed one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“Well, at least I’m not sleepwalking anymore. Imagine if I stumbled into the easel and spilled paint everywhere or something like that.” Karen looked up at him from under her lowered lashes. “See, that also proves my maturity. I conquered that problem all on my own. I mean, you haven’t caught me sleepwalking since I’ve been living here, have you?”
Alex brushed her hair with a kiss before he replied. “You are, as always, amazing. And as for being young—don’t wish away the years so quickly, my dear. They go fast enough. Besides”—he sat up and flashed a wicked smile—“I don’t want you to lose all of your youthful enthusiasm.”
Karen eyed him, a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He hadn’t exactly answered her question about the sleepwalking, but she took his actions as tacit agreement. “Enthusiasm? Is that what you call it? I don’t think that’s limited by age. Because you’re older, but rather enthusiastic yourself.”
Alex laughed and pulled her into an embrace. “You inspire me,” he whispered into her ear, before pushing her back onto the sofa cushions.
“We have a bed,” observed Karen.
“Yes, and I plan to make use of that later too,” Alex replied, before stopping her mouth with a kiss.
One afternoon in late fall, Karen came home from work to find Alex holding two envelopes.
“One’s from the grad school,” he said, handing it to her. “The other’s an invitation.”
Karen opened her envelope, yanked out the single sheet of paper inside, and swiftly read through it. “They’ve granted me acceptance”—disappointment colored her voice—“but not until next fall. No open slots this spring.”
“Next fall? That’s not so bad. It might work out for the best.” Alex spoke slowly, as if calcu
lating something in his head.
“I suppose. I can keep my job, at any rate. They’ll be happy for me to stay on.”
“And I want you here. So no real harm done.”
Karen gave him a speculative look. “You might eventually get tired of having me and all of my art paraphernalia around. Just warn me in plenty of time if you do.”
“You’ll be the first to know.” Alex shook his head. “Now, enough nonsense. The invitation is from Ian Vance. Apparently he’s throwing a holiday party and requests we attend.”
“We? Is it addressed to me as well?” Karen walked into the tiny, sleek kitchen and pulled a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator.
“No, it’s addressed to Dr. Alex Wythe and guest, but I’m sure Ian assumes I’ll bring you.”
“Does he?” Karen poured a large glass of wine.
“Of course. He knows we live together.” Alex followed her into the kitchen. “Pour me one of those, will you, kiddo? Long day.” He rubbed at his temple with one hand.
Karen handed him a full glass. “You do look tired, Alex. Are you feeling all right?” His eyes were shadowed, and the skin under his lower lashes was dark, as if slightly bruised.
“Yes, fine. Just work pressures. Things on my mind. Don’t worry. Now, about this party. I’m going to accept for the two of us. Just put it on your calendar.”
“And what exactly”—Karen sipped her wine while she eyed Alex with concern—“does one wear to a party given by Ian Vance?”
“Anything you like. It’ll be rather formal, I suppose. Perhaps Thea can visit for some shopping. Might be fun for you.” Alex leaned against the kitchen counter and took a large swallow of wine.
“I don’t know. Thea’s always so busy with her work. I’ll figure something out. Just don’t expect a miracle.”