by Cherry Adair
He stumbled out into the rainy night, barefoot. The rain was pouring down in sheets, soaking him, but he didn’t care. He tilted back his head to stare into the midnight sky. And then he cried out, a voice of pain from deep inside him. “It’s done!”
There was no answer. No responding crack of thunder, no supernatural voices. Nothing but the storm all around him. He fell to his knees, and for the first time in his memory, and maybe in his entire misspent life, Gideon Hyde began to cry.
IT WAS LIGHT when Sam opened her eyes. She lay still on the futon, awash with a strange sense of well-being tinged with foreboding, as she tried to orient herself. She was at Aaron’s cabin. Lying naked beneath a thin covering. Not just naked. Seduced. Deliciously, gloriously seduced by a man she barely knew.
Love at first sight didn’t exist. It grew out of friendship, a slow, natural progression, so the confused emotions that were busy assaulting her had nothing to do with love. They couldn’t.
But Sam made a point of never to lying to anyone, particularly herself. And no matter how irrational, insane, or unbelievable it was, the fact remained that she had done the impossible. Fallen in love with a mysterious stranger. And after all these years she’d acted upon it.
She could hear the sound of the shower running. She was achy, sticky, a thorough, sated mess. And he would be standing naked in the shower, letting the hot water run over that golden body of his. And maybe she needed to find out if last night had been an act of insanity, a total aberration, or not.
The shower in Aaron’s master bath was huge, a tiled mini-room with built-in seats and jets of water coming from golden pipes in all four corners. Gideon stood in the middle, head back, eyes closed, letting the water run over his body like a lover’s caress. A lover’s tongue. A lover’s tears.
She stepped inside the steamy room and closed the glass door behind her, and he opened his eyes, looking at her with an expression that was almost wary.
Yet he wanted her. There was no disguising that fact, not with both of them naked in the steamy shower. And then she stopped thinking about it, moved up to him and put her arms around his neck, so that the water slid over both of them. His mouth was wet and hungry against hers. And she moved closer still, wanting to sink into his body.
He broke the kiss, holding her face in one hand, but his arm was around her waist, holding her up against his body. “This is a bad idea,” he said.
She smiled into his eyes. “You’re the gloomiest lover I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only lover you’ve ever had.”
“True enough,” she conceded. “And I want to make up for lost time.” She ran her hand down his stomach to touch him. “And don’t tell me you aren’t willing to further my education.”
“You’ve gotten pretty saucy all of a sudden.”
“I’ve always been a saucy wench,” she said, leaning forward and nibbling on his lower lip. He had glorious lips.
“I don’t think…”
“Good,” she said. “I have no intention of thinking either.”
The tile was hard against her back as he pushed her up against it, and then he was inside her, supporting her with his hands and the wall as she wrapped her legs around his narrow hips and took him in, shivering in pleasure as the hot water rained down on them.
This time she made noise. She couldn’t help it—her tiny cries and weak moans bounded against the tile walls, echoing through the steamy enclosure. She was surrounded by heat and steam and pleasure noises. And Gideon, around her, inside her, taking her to places she hadn’t even known existed, and when he came inside her his own choked cry joined hers as she shattered.
Through a haze of slowly fading contractions she could feel him shaking, and he pulled free, lowering her down onto the tile seat. She collapsed against the wall as the water poured over them, and he sank to his knees in front of her, his arms around her hips, his head in her lap, holding tight.
She managed to find enough energy to lift her hand, to stroke his wet black hair away from his face. His eyes were closed, and if she’d had more energy she would have leaned over and kissed him. But there was something infinitely trusting about his pose, and she liked him like that, his head in her lap, completely and totally hers. At least for now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HE LEFT HER ALONE in the shower. When she caught his hand, tried to stop him he muttered the word “coffee” and she let him go, sinking back against the tile as the hot water continued to stream down over her. She could fall asleep like this, she thought, her face turned up into the steamy mist. She could just sit here forever, or until he came back to her and…
The water turned to ice with no warning, and she let out a screech, practically ripping the door off the shower in her haste to get out of the chilly spray. She half expected Gideon to come check on her after her outburst, so she opened the door to the bathroom, calling out, “I’m okay.” He didn’t answer, but she figured he was concentrating on the coffee, something she couldn’t help but approve of.
She dried herself languidly, glancing at her reflection in the steamed-over mirror. She stared at the naked body that had always served her so well. It didn’t look any different, and yet it felt completely changed. She was connected to it now. It was more than just legs and breasts and stomach and hips, blended in a pleasing manner that sold products well and created a fantasy. It was hers in a way that could belong to no others.
Except for Gideon.
Her clothes were neatly folded on the sink, though the black lace panties were missing. She’d gone without underwear in the past—she could do it again. She pulled on the shorts and the T-shirt and went in search of coffee and Gideon.
It wasn’t until she reached the deserted, spotless kitchen area that she realized she hadn’t smelled coffee. There was no sign of any. The great room had been picked up—the futon was back together, the quilt folded in one corner, the candles put back, the brandy snifters washed and put away.
But no coffee. And no Gideon.
She heard the sound of a car driving up, and relief washed over her. He must have gone to check on the road. Hardly flattering that he was in such a hurry to get out of there, but it was better than vanishing without a word. She went to the door and flung it open, ready to tease him about the coffee, when she saw the taxi. And no sign of the Mercedes.
“You Miss Samantha?” the taxi driver asked, climbing out. “Dispatch sent me to bring you back to Los Angeles. You ready to go?”
“Where’s Gideon?”
The man shook his head, pulling his cap lower on his thinning gray hair and rubbing his eye. “Dunno who you’re talking about. I got orders to take you to L.A., and that’s what I’m planning to do. It’s already been taken care of—I get paid whether you come with me or not. It’s up to you.”
She felt like a candle dying in the wind, the light fading inside her. She closed the door behind her without a backward glance. “I’m ready,” she said, heading for the back seat of the yellow cab.
She sat still and quiet in the center of the back seat, the seat belt tight around her, her long legs crowded behind the front seat. Her driver was a chatty soul—he went on about the weather, the condition of the roads, the politics in the state of California, his recent eye infection, his opinion of the world in general, and Sam let the unending words wash over her, replying with a suitable “hmm” when prompted.
He was gone. Vanished, as if he’d never existed, disappeared in a puff of smoke like a magician.
This was the best thing that could possibly happen, she told herself. Last night had been an aberration, a moment of total insanity. But it was day-light now, he was gone, and she was Sam again. Practical, levelheaded, loyal Sam.
With one major difference. She really should be grateful to him. As the years had passed and she had lived in celibate comfort she’d begun to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Was she frigid? Missing the ability to fall in love? Her untouched state had become a liability, a dark
, dirty secret she didn’t want anyone to discover, as embarrassing as kinky tastes. In the end it was a kinky taste not to want love, and she was glad she was finally past it. She was grateful, truly she was. She was calm, serene and grateful.
And she was going to track him down and kill him.
How dare he just abandon her, drive away without a word, a note, just disappear like that? No matter how inexperienced she was, she couldn’t have been that bad. If she’d had any idea how wonderful making love could be she would have tried this a lot sooner.
Except that there was no one else she’d wanted to do it with. And no one she wanted in her future. She wanted only Gideon Hyde, with his golden skin and his beautiful mouth.
It was a good thing he’d run out on her. She didn’t believe in love at first sight, or any kind of love at all that wasn’t built from knowledge and familiarity. She knew nothing about Gideon Hyde—he was a stranger, and smart women didn’t fall in love with strangers.
And right now she was feeling dumb as mud, because no matter what she tried to tell herself, she’d fallen in love with a mystery. For all she knew he could hate animals and vote Republican.
But Rags had liked him. Rags, who snapped and growled at any man who’d ever come near her, had slobbered happily over Gideon, totally entranced.
And in the end, she trusted Rags more than she trusted herself. If he was good enough for her dog, he was good enough for her.
She shut her eyes, closing out the endless voice of her driver. So he’d run away. She had long legs—she could run faster. And she wasn’t about to give up without a fight.
“HAD A GOOD TIME?”
Gideon blinked. He’d been searching for the coffee, certain that a man with a stocked liquor cabinet would have to have coffee stashed somewhere. Now he was standing in the middle of what looked like a deserted car factory. Ralph had given up his bishop’s outfit—he was now dressed in drag, with heavy makeup, long reddish curls and lace everywhere.
“Very pretty,” Gideon murmured.
“Don’t avoid the subject!” Ralph said. “I want to know if you had a good time during your…what should we call it? Shore leave? Did you get lucky?”
Cursing at him was a waste of time—Ralph thrived on negativity. “Don’t you know? I assumed you were happily watching the whole thing.”
“I’m surprised that the thought of me watching didn’t affect your performance.”
“Believe it or not, Ralph, I wasn’t even thinking of you at the time. Why am I here? I thought I had twelve more hours.”
“Six at this point. But you accomplished your mission, didn’t you? My eye cleared up and all is well.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye. She’ll think I used her and abandoned her without a word.”
“And why should you care? Oh, I forgot, you fell in love with her. Disgusting, really. I would have thought you were past such sappy emotions.”
“I should have said goodbye. Or something.”
Ralph chuckled. “Like telling her that you love her? You really think that’s a good idea? Won’t a clean break be easier on her in the long run? Not for you, of course, but since there’s no future for a woman like that and a dead man I don’t suppose it matters. You may as well enjoy yourself while you can. Love ’em and leave ’em, that always was your style.”
“Has anyone ever tried to kill you, Ralph?”
“Waste of time, dear boy. But they’ve tried. I can be…irritating. We’re getting off the subject. You want your final six hours? I can arrange it.”
Gideon closed his eyes for a moment. He could see her, sprawled out on the futon, sound asleep, looking as well-loved as he could have managed. He could smell the scent of her skin, taste her breasts. And he’d give ten years off his life to touch her again.
But his life was already over. And going back would only make it harder on her.
“No,” he said. “I’m not going back.”
“And why is that?”
“Because she’s better off without me. As you said, there’s no future. And I don’t mind. I don’t remember why I got sent here in the first place, but after last night I don’t care. The best thing I could have done for her was keep my hands off her, and in the end I couldn’t, even to spite you. I hurt her, and she didn’t deserve that. If you think that falling in love with someone means you hurt them, then yes, I probably am in love with her. And the damnable thing is, it feels like it’s the first time.”
“Hey, this is the three hundred and forty-seventh level of hell and I’m in charge. Of course I think falling in love equals hurt and pain. You done me proud, boy. And for what it’s worth, no, you were never in love before. You may have slept with hundreds of women, but you were never in love.”
“Hundreds?” Gideon echoed, bemused.
“And you don’t remember any of them,” Ralph said in his chummy voice. “So now we’ve come to your final choice.”
“My final choice? I didn’t know I ever had any choice at all.”
“I told you, I can’t control emotions, and I have no power over free will. Terrible idea, free will was. Look how it’s backfired.”
“What choice, Ralph?”
“You’re finished on this level. Done your time, my boy. Passed all the tests. I do believe you’re ready to graduate.”
“To the three hundred and forty-eighth level? What’s it got, a little more air-conditioning?”
“Not exactly. Here’s the choice. You can go back for a few days, screw Sam out of your system for good, and then move to the next level. Or you can choose to let her find someone new. He’s already waiting in the wings, and thanks to you she’s finally ready to notice. The veterinarian at the animal shelter is young, handsome, good and kind…”
“And noble as hell. He sounds revolting,” Gideon muttered.
“You sound jealous. He’d make her very happy. It’s up to you. Reward for a job well done. You can have another week in bed with her, or let her have a happy life.”
“Who says she wouldn’t have a happy life even if I did get my extra week?”
“True enough. Free will and all that.”
In the end it wasn’t a choice at all. “Send her her damned Prince Charming,” he growled. “Just don’t make me watch.”
Ralph beamed at him. “You really do love her.”
“One more torment of the damned. I’m going to forget all this, right? Everything else I’ve ever been through is a blur—I don’t have to remember her, do I?”
“And miss her? But isn’t hell about everlasting torment? Want to change your mind?”
He shook his head. “I’ll do the right thing for once in my life. I just hope it annoys the hell out of you.”
Ralph snapped his fingers, and the old garage disappeared. They were standing on the edge of a cliff, and Ralph was dressed like a biker, with dark hair slicked back. “Take a look,” he said, nodding toward the cliff. “See where you’re headed.”
Gideon moved toward the edge, expecting God knew what. There were wisps of fleecy clouds, and beneath, quite clearly, he could see Sam’s house.
He stepped back from the edge. “No!”
“The thing is, Gideon, there isn’t any three hundred and forty-eighth level of hell. The three hundred and forty-seventh is the highest level, and you just graduated. You get to go back and start all over again. Just try not to screw up this time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Time to live again.”
Gideon stared at him, uncomprehending. “Shouldn’t we be looking up, not down?”
“Heaven and hell all kind of blend together. Kiss the bride for me.”
“I’m not going back. Not to Sam. I don’t deserve—”
“Oh, cut the martyred crap and get out of here,” Ralph said, putting his hands on Gideon’s shoulders. With one swift shove he was gone, tumbling down through the clouds, the feel of Ralph’s hands still burning into his skin.
RALPH STEPPE
D BACK from the precipice, a satisfied smile on his face. He gave himself a little shake, and the biker’s leathers transformed into soft white. He stretched, and behind him a pair of huge white wings unfurled, cramped from being tucked away for so long.
“I always love it when one of my boys graduates,” Ralph said softly. And then he was gone as well.
HE HAD NO IDEA how he’d gotten there, and he wasn’t even sure where he’d just been. Bits of memory danced in and out of his brain before they drifted away like fleecy clouds. He was in Sam’s garden, standing by her swimming pool.
He heard a faint, warning growl, and he turned. Sam’s ancient dog was there, looking at him through rheumy eyes.
He didn’t know what day it was, or what time. He’d guess it was late afternoon, but he didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last seen her. A vague memory danced through his brain—was she going to marry a vet?—and then vanished again. How long had he been gone? And where had he been?
Rags stopped growling abruptly and bounded over to him, full of affectionate doggy greetings. Gideon knelt down and rubbed his head. “How you doing, old boy? You still my friend? What about your mistress? Is she ready to cut my throat?”
“Maybe.” Her voice came from directly behind him. He turned to face her, slowly, warily, not sure what he was afraid of.
She was dressed in her armor—designer clothes, shoes that would make her a good three inches taller than he was, flawless makeup, artfully arranged hair and a cool expression of disdain on her distant, beautiful face.
“Where did you go?”
He didn’t know the answer to that one. “You got back from the cabin all right?”
“The taxi you arranged picked me up right after I realized I’d been abandoned. Where did you go?”
He racked his brain for an answer, but his mouth was already taking care of things. “I had an appointment. The reason I came down to L.A. in the first place, as a matter of fact.”
