Fantasy

by Christine Feehan

  The look Jake shot him said it all. Something along the lines of shut the fuck up. Anton’s smile wavered slightly, then he turned his attention back to his audience.

  “Well, we’re just about done. We have time for one more story. Does anyone else have anything about last night that they’d like to share?”

  Miranda glanced at her watch. Time to get it over with. Time to launch her attack and then skip out.

  She raised her hand high in the air.

  “I’d like to say something,” she called out.

  What the hell was she up to? Jake had headed for the back of the auditorium, thinking Miranda would be sitting where they’d sat together yesterday. But instead she was dressed in a conservative dark suit and sitting right up front and center.

  He went ahead and sat down. He’d catch her afterward; she wasn’t going to get away from him a second time.

  And now she wanted to share? Jake had a feeling that this couldn’t be a good sign.

  Anton stared down at Miranda from the stage. “Yes—Randy, is it?”

  Miranda stood up. She unbuttoned her suit jacket and threw it down, revealing her upper half, a very feminine and curvy upper half, dressed in a clingy black halter top. As it was practically backless, it exposed a gorgeous female back. He knew that back; he’d spent some time admiring it last night.

  Jake sat forward in his chair.

  “Nope. Miranda. And buddy, do I have a few bones to pick with you!”

  “Oh, my God!” shrieked Bertie, several rows away. He actually got up and ran out of the auditorium, his belly jiggling frantically. Miranda watched him go, then turned toward Anton.

  “That’s right. Be afraid. Be very afraid, ’cause I’m your worst nightmare!”

  Anton stared at Bertie’s large departing backside, then turned his attention back to Miranda. “Who the hell are you?”

  “A woman. You know, the other? The one Bertie mentioned who has balls of steel? And I have something to say to you and to every single man in this auditorium—well, maybe excluding one.”

  Jake grinned and sat back in his seat. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this.

  “You’re doing a disservice to every single person on this planet by running these seminars! It’s not like men and women don’t have enough problems without your filling everyone’s heads with this crap!”

  Several men in the audience started to protest, but a few started to clap.

  Miranda didn’t even pause for breath, and Jake breathed, “Good for you.” What a woman.

  “Almost a grand to teach a man how to get laid? Hell, I could tell a guy the big secret in two minutes and I won’t even charge for my time!”

  “You have to leave,” Anton began.

  “Oh, I will,” Miranda said.

  “What’s the secret?” a man called out.

  “Stop thinking about women as ‘the other’ and start thinking about them as people, just like you. People with hopes and dreams and fears, and also people with a sex drive that rocks!” She punched her fist into the air, and several men actually howled.

  She took a breath and didn’t even let Anton protest. “Everybody’s scared of relationships, every man or woman on this planet from the moment we reach puberty and figure out that we’re different. And we put up all these walls when it doesn’t have to be that way—”

  The auditorium’s doors were opening, and cameramen and women from the local news stations started to move in with newscasters in tow.

  “Oh, my God!” screamed Anton. “I cannot allow this!”

  “Where’s the woman who took the seminar?” one newscaster called.

  “Right here!” Miranda shouted. “Right this way!”

  Anton looked to the right, then the left, then the Lizard King covered his face with his hands and simply ran off the stage.

  Jake waited until she was done with all her interviews before he approached her.

  “Nice work,” he said. “You’ll probably get a movie deal out of it.”

  “That’s not why I did it,” she said.

  “I know. But you should be prepared for the offers.” He lowered his voice. “Why did you leave?”

  She started to walk out of the auditorium, and he fell into step beside her.

  “The answer to that should be obvious.”

  “We’re too different.”

  “Yeah. I said so in the note.”

  “And if I don’t think so?” he said.

  “We’re still in lust. That’s what’s going on.”

  “It is, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what if I don’t think so?”

  She stopped walking and looked up at him. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Jake.”

  He could tell she was close to breaking, after revealing her true identity and giving out countless interviews to the press. And he didn’t want to bring her back into the relationship this way, when she wasn’t at her best. So he pulled her into his arms and held her close. When he spoke, his lips brushed her ear.

  “You and me. We’re not done, not by a long shot. I’ll see you soon.”

  And then he turned and walked away.

  Later that day she went to Jim’s condo and returned all the clothing she’d borrowed from him. And told him most of the story. The parts that weren’t X-rated.

  Jim just stared at her.

  “You did what?” he finally managed to croak out.

  “You’ll see it on the six o’clock news tonight,” she told him. “All of it.”

  “Ron’s going to kill you!”

  “Ron has nothing to do with this. I used my own money to take that stupid seminar, so he has no say in this.”

  “Wow. You’re really on a roll.”

  “Well, yeah. Oh, by the way, I hurled on your black shoes.”

  “I didn’t like them that much anyway.”

  “And I got garbage all over one of your suits.”

  “What the hell kind of seminar was this?”

  “Okay, let me start from the beginning…”

  Jake sat out by his pool that night and thought of ways to win Miranda back.

  When his cell phone rang, he picked up immediately. It had to be Jen.

  “Hey, how did it go?”

  He simply told her the entire story. From beginning to end.

  “And she walked out on you?”

  “Hold on, Jen, she has her reasons.” He told her what Miranda had written in the note, and then the way she’d revealed all at the end of the seminar.

  “The woman in the black halter? I saw her on the news tonight!”

  Jake closed his eyes. Great. She’d made the national news. That certainly spelled the death knell for Anton Levine and his workshops.

  “She was terrific! I wish I’d been there to see it!” Jen started to laugh. “Jake, I think you’ve got your hands full with this woman!”

  “Oh, don’t enjoy yourself too much,” he said dryly.

  Once Jen had stopped laughing, she said, “So, how are you going to win her back?”

  “I was hoping you could help me with that.”

  “Okay, start at the beginning again and don’t leave anything out. I mean, leave out the parts I shouldn’t hear, but other than that, tell me everything! There has to be a way to reach this woman…”

  She went back to work on Monday to curious stares and whispers.

  Well, first there was the haircut. No matter how she styled it, it would be a few months before she looked anything like her old self and didn’t resemble a twelve-year-old Amish kid. Or that Irish altar boy.

  Then the newscast. Though several of her co-workers had come up to her cubicle to congratulate her, others had stopped talking as soon as she’d approached their huddle by the water cooler, and Miranda could tell that jealousy was already rearing its ugly little head.

  Too bad. She’d already decided not to do the article.

  Needless to say, Ron, her boss, wasn’t too pleased with her de
cision.

  “I don’t understand,” he said, when he called her into his office. “You were so hot on this article Thursday night, and so angry that Bertie was going to the seminar.”

  She couldn’t possibly tell her boss about Jake.

  “I changed my mind,” she said simply.

  “Better offer?” he said. “We all saw you on the news last night.”

  “No offers. I just—changed my mind.” She didn’t want to relive the weekend and remember what she’d had with Jake.

  “All right. I’m disappointed, but I have to respect your judgment.”

  She was walking out of his office when Ron said, “Miranda?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Good work. I hear Anton Levine has left the country.”

  “What do you know,” she said. And smiled.

  She’d finished her lunch and was trying to drum up some enthusiasm for another article when Jim came to her cubicle and whispered, “Jake Blackhall just stepped off the elevator and is asking for you.”

  “Jake?” As she stood, she smoothed down her skirt and patted what was left of her hair.

  Looking over her cubicle wall, she could see Jake striding toward her, a huge bouquet of flowers in his arms, a riot of color.

  Her eyes widened.

  Every single staff worker stopped what they were doing, stood up, and watched his progress as he walked steadily toward her cubicle. No doubt about it, he—they—were the complete center of attention. There wasn’t one person in the office who didn’t know who Jake Blackhall was. After all, he’d graced their cover two separate times.

  “Jake,” she said quietly when he reached her.

  “Miranda,” he replied, then glanced around. “Do we have to do this out in the open?”

  “You can have my office,” one of her co-workers eagerly offered, never taking her eyes off Jake.

  “That would be good,” Jake said. Those blue eyes of his were like lasers as he studied Miranda.

  “Thanks, Carrie,” Miranda said, and started toward the private corner office, conscious of his gaze on her every step of the way.

  Once inside, she walked to the far side of the office, behind the desk, behind the chair. Jake stayed by the door, flowers in hand.

  There was a short, sharp knock on the door. Jake turned and opened it.

  Carrie, holding a vase.

  “I thought—” she began, looking up at Jake.

  “Thank you.” Jake took the water-filled vase and shut the door. Then locked it. He glanced at her as he set the vase down on the desk, along with the huge bouquet of flowers.

  “Miranda, why are you all the way over there? You aren’t scared of me, are you?”

  She moistened her lips. “No, just…overwhelmed.”

  He wouldn’t stop looking at her. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  He glanced out the office’s huge glass window. A crowd had gathered. With determination, he walked over to the blinds and snapped them shut.

  They were alone.

  Neither spoke for one of the longest minutes Miranda could remember.

  “Are you pregnant?” he finally said. “I mean, could you be?”

  Her cheeks flamed as she remembered how eagerly both of them had made love. Twice. With no thought of protection.

  Idiots. They were idiots.

  “No. I’m pretty sure I’m not. Is that why you’re here?”

  He kept looking at her. “No.” He seemed to consider what to say next, then said, “Did you turn in the article?”

  “No. I’m not going to write it.”

  “Why not?”

  “The—the fun went out of it. You?”

  “I’m not—I’m not done with it yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you’re not turning it in either.”

  “I’m not sure. Actually, the editor at Vanity Fair called and asked me if you’d consider doing the article with me, sort of one man’s and one woman’s opinion of the entire thing. A dialogue.”

  She simply stared at him. How ironic that one of the dreams of her life should be handed to her on a silver platter. But it would entail working with Jake—

  She couldn’t do it.

  “No,” she said softly. “I can’t.”

  He sighed. “I kind of thought you’d say that. So you leave me with no other alternative.”

  He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a baseball. On closer inspection, she realized that it was a ball. A small globe of the earth.

  Smiling, he knelt down and gently tossed it so that it landed right at her feet.

  She stared at him, remembering a conversation they’d had in the dark just a few days ago.

  “You know that feeling, when you know you really love a woman and want to be with her for the rest of your life?”

  “I’ve never really felt it.”

  “Okay, Randy, just imagine it. But—ah, it’s such a guy thing. Such a fantasy. I’ve always just wanted to be able to lay the world at her feet. Give her everything. Give her all of me.”

  “That’s beautiful, Jake…”

  Her eyes filled as she looked down at that tiny little globe.

  “I’ve always just wanted to be able to lay the world at her feet.”

  Oh, Jake…

  She glanced up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks, and saw the stark uncertainty in his eyes. Yet her throat was so tight, she couldn’t answer him.

  “You know that guy?” he said softly.

  “What guy?” she whispered, her throat tight.

  “The one who’s there when you walk in the door, waiting for you to come home. In your corner, always. In that trench with you, Miranda. In it for the long haul. The one who’s thrilled to see you?”

  “Oh. That guy.”

  “Yeah. Well, I want a chance to be that guy.”

  He was blasting through every single defense she had. She didn’t know how to stop him, and wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

  She bent down and picked up the tiny globe, then set it on the desk between them, next to the vase and flowers.

  “Please, Miranda. Just a chance.”

  “We’re too different,” she said.

  “Not in the ways that matter.”

  “I’m—you’ll get tired of me.”

  He laughed at that. “Not in this lifetime.” He held out his hand. “Come here. Just for a minute.”

  She knew that if she took that hand she was lost. But suddenly being lost didn’t seem so bad. Stepping from behind the desk, she walked slowly over to him, put her hand into his, let him pull her into his arms.

  He kissed her, then held her gently, stroking her short hair.

  “You’re the most stubborn woman,” he whispered.

  She sighed. “Yeah. I am. But only when I’m scared.”

  “So, we’re okay?” he said.

  “Yeah. I can’t fight this anymore.”

  “Give in,” he whispered. “It’s a lot more fun.”

  She leaned into him and surrendered.

  “I’m assuming you want to write for the rest of your life.”

  She looked up at him. “But of course.”

  “Kids?”

  She loved the tender expression in his dark blue eyes. “With you? Sure.”

  “Maybe a dog?”

  “Two. And a big, fat cat.”

  “Do you have a real attachment to working here, or would you rather freelance?”

  “Oh, what do you think?” Freelancing had been her dream for as long as she could remember.

  “I think we should blow this joint.” He swung her up into his arms, then dipped her toward the desk so she could grab her flowers and the tiny globe. When they opened the door and started out of the private office, several people suddenly scattered.

  “Purse?” he said.

  “In my desk.”

  He set her down long enough so she could unlock the bottom drawer of her desk, get
out her purse, and kiss Jim good-bye. He was grinning, so happy for her.

  “You take good care of her,” he said to Jake, shaking his hand.

  “Oh, I plan to.” And with that, he swept her up into his arms, flowers and all, and started down the aisle. Heads peeked over cubicles as they headed toward the bank of elevators.

  “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in a skirt. You have first-class legs, Miranda.”

  She laughed.

  The elevator door slid open, and people stared at them, puzzled. Who carried a woman around in broad daylight?

  Jake stepped inside the crowded elevator and the door slid shut. No one moved or talked as they descended more than a dozen floors, then he lowered his head and his lips brushed her ear.

  “If this is a fantasy, don’t wake me up.” Then he kissed her.

  She couldn’t have agreed with him more.

  The Awakening

  Christine Feehan

  1

  The warm wind gently carried the message through the lush vegetation of the rain forest, traveled high into the dense canopy that shrouded the jungle in mystery. Wild honeybees built combs just beneath the crown, out of reach of most of the animals. If they heard the wind whispering, they ignored the tales and went about their business. Birds of every kind, parrots clothed in a riot of color, helmeted hornbills and falcons, picked up the gossip and conveyed it swiftly on bright wings, shrieking with delight throughout the forest. Noisy troops of long-tailed macaques, gibbons, and leaf-eating monkeys heard and leapt from branch to branch joyfully, shouting with anticipation. The orangutans moved cautiously through the trees in search of ripe fruit, edible leaves, and flowers, maintaining dignity in all the fuss. Before long, the news was everywhere. There were few secrets in the community and everyone had been waiting with concern.

  He heard the news long before her scent reached him. Brandt Talbot shrank into the heavy vegetation, his chest tight and his body taut with sudden anticipation. She was here at long last. In his domain. Within his grasp. It had been a long hunt to find her, nearly impossible, yet he had managed it. He had deliberately lured her to his lair and she had come. He was so close, he had to use iron self-control to keep from moving too quickly. He couldn’t spook her, couldn’t tip his hand, allow her to realize for one moment that the net was closing around her. It was essential to close every avenue, drive her to the center of his domain, and cut off each escape route.