Only In My Dreams: A Time Travel Anthology

by Sahara Kelly

  And him.

  Was it possible he channeled Nohnohsot or something equally weird? How else could he have known the name Gandewitha? The questions plagued her as she absently began the process of breaking down the rally stuff and after she’d misplaced yet another batch of flyers, Maxie tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Sweetie, we’ll get this done a lot quicker if you stop helping.”

  “Shit. Sorry.” Gaia winced. “My mind’s a bit scattered right now, if you wanna know the truth.”

  “Can’t say I blame you.” Maxie grinned naughtily. “I’ve got a date with Charlie and it’s distracting me as well. But not as much as your date, that’s for sure. Go home, babe. We can finish up here.”

  Gratefully, Gaia looked at her friend. “You’re an angel. It was a good day, Maxie. Wings notwithstanding.”

  “Yep. A lot of fun. Good stuff. We’ll do it again. Now go change and go home. Have a great date. Screw his brains out.”

  “Uhh…”

  Maxie giggled. “You two were striking sparks off each other, no doubt about it. It’s time you got a few of the kinks out, honey. He looks like just the guy to do it.”

  Gaia shrugged. “Dunno. We’ll see.”

  It was the best answer she could come up with, both for herself and for Maxie. All the way home, she couldn’t think of a better one. Even after she’d showered and dug something presentable out of her closet, Gaia still couldn’t figure out what the attraction was, other than Ned was an extremely hot looking man who was interested in her.

  Isn’t that enough?

  Strangely, Gaia could answer that question without hesitation. No, it wasn’t enough. Not usually. Not for her.

  She’d had plenty of dates. A couple of serious affairs. But nothing had ever rocked her world like those few seconds on top of Ned Harper.

  As she stroked on the light coating of makeup that constituted her beauty regime, Gaia realized that, somewhere in her subconscious, she’d always sought something that might come close to her dream passions. A mysterious component within her companions that would unleash the heated desires she shared in those dreams of hers.

  Until now, until this oddly fractured afternoon, nothing had.

  Pausing by the front door to her apartment, Gaia stared at herself in the mirror over the low table where she habitually put her keys.

  Her hair hung loosely down her back, a wash of shadows over the white silk tunic she’d slipped on. It was comfortable, had long sleeves in case the restaurant was cool and managed to be both practical and elegant. Her black silk skirt was a favorite piece, always bolstering her confidence, since few people who weren’t as tall as she was could wear it well.

  Slim at the hips, it flared around her ankles, revealing her strappy sandals and bare feet. Gaia realized she had to look up to meet Ned’s gaze—a pleasant change for a woman her height—so she’d reached for these high-heeled sandals without hesitation.

  She was excited, nervous and just a little apprehensive about this whole evening. He’d made his intentions clear, bluntly and without pretense.

  He wanted her.

  And Gaia met the somber gaze of her own reflection as she acknowledged her feelings. She wanted him right back.

  There was a simmering sensation low in her belly and her nipples hardened at the mere thought of his fingers touching them. Desire curled deep inside her, a desire she was afraid would sharpen into desperate need by the end of this night.

  Gaia choked it down, forcing herself to ignore it. She was not one to leap into bed with a guy on the first date. Never had been—it wasn’t part of her character. There had to be an attraction, a slow building of sexual interest combined with other things that appealed to her.

  Whether Ned Harper possessed those intangible somethings remained to be seen. She reached for her colorful wrap, tossed it around her shoulders and gathered it snugly, not unlike a Native American shawl. Flames of orange and purple fluttered into deeper tones of aqua and midnight blue, splashing brilliance across her otherwise sober outfit.

  There. She was ready. It wouldn’t take more than ten minutes to walk over to K Street and the Prime Rib. Gaia knew the restaurant, since it was one of the renowned eateries where politicians liked to meet, greet and be photographed coming out of—although most often not with the lobbyists who could afford to foot their dinner bills.

  Wryly, Gaia smiled at herself as she closed the door behind her. This was quite an event for her. Dining amongst the elite of Washington’s power brokers. And the tourists who wanted to do the same thing.

  The traffic had followed its usual pattern, subsiding drastically now that the evening was approaching and she walked to the intersection of 22nd without a check, turning onto L Street, where she would head down 21st and pick up K street. The restaurant was on that block. She could’ve taken a cab, but the air was lovely and the walk gave her time to settle her emotions.

  This was just a date, she reminded herself as her heels clattered nicely on the sidewalk. A simple dinner with somebody who she found attractive.

  Liar, liar.

  Her conscience shook its finger at her and smirked nastily. He knows your dream name. Idly, she stood and waited for the crossing light to count down the seconds—conveniently informing pedestrians of how much time they had to get their butts across the street before being run over.

  When her turn arrived, she was safely across well within her allotted safety window, her long legs eating up the distance with ease. A walker by nature, Gaia had found Washington to be her nirvana in many ways—the obvious concern for the welfare of its pedestrians was one of them. She needed no car of her own, although on rare occasions she rented a Zipcar to take a trip out of town when the mood hit her.

  It was convenient—she paid by the hour—and she’d taken a few nice rides through Virginia last spring. For the rest of the time, there was the Metro or her own two feet. She didn’t need a date to have a fancy car, nor was she impressed if he did.

  Gaia wondered why the hell she was cataloging the virtues of her dates when she should be thinking about the best way to ask this one why he knew her dream name. The issue had to come up, had to be discussed, no two ways about it. It was too coincidental to be ignored.

  Still trying to work that one out, Gaia reached the tasteful entrance to the Prime Rib, took a deep breath and walked inside. After a brief chat with the host, she spotted Ned at a table toward the rear and headed toward him.

  “Gaia, my dear.” A voice hailed her. “How lovely to see you and how lovely you look.”

  She was being addressed by a short, rotund little man, rising from his chair as she passed. She recognized him immediately. “Congressman, this is nice. Fancy running into you.”

  She leaned down and accepted the paternal hug, patting him on the shoulder. Congressman Marshall was a staunch supporter of environmental causes, a regular visitor to the NCRS and a genuinely nice guy. His wife smiled at Gaia from across an expanse of blindingly white tablecloth. “Hello, honey. You get prettier every day.”

  “Thanks, Heather. You’re very kind.” Gaia grinned back. She’d seen photos of their newest grandchild only a couple of days before. “How’s the littlest one doing?”

  “Don’t get her started.” The Congressman grimaced comically. “Join us for a drink?”

  Gaia shook her head. “Can’t, I’m afraid. I have an—er—engagement.” She looked over at Ned, who had noticed her and was nodding her way. She nodded back.

  The Congressman followed her gaze. “Hmm. Isn’t that Ned Harper?”

  Gaia blinked. “Yes, it is, as a matter of fact. I met him this afternoon.”

  “Nice lad. Very bright.” His voice was noncommittal.

  “You know him?” Gaia tilted her head to one side.

  “Well, not really.” The Congressman looked at Gaia. “Although I will say that you’re possibly fraternizing with the enemy, my dear.”

  “Damn.” Gaia frowned. “He testified, didn’t he?”
<
br />   Both of them knew exactly what she was talking about—the Budget bill hearings.

  The Congressman sighed. “I wouldn’t call it testifying. He presented a very solidly researched report to several of the Committees. But he presented it on behalf of Greenwood Resources.”

  “Oh.” Gaia swallowed. “Them.”

  “Yes. Them.” The Congressman patted her on the shoulder once more and sat down. “Mind you, he wasn’t all rapture and stupidity. He didn’t push their agenda or sing their praises. He simply reported the facts.”

  “The facts that Greenwood wanted presented.” Gaia wrinkled her nose.

  “He’s a smart man, dear. And he seems a nice one too. Just be careful, all right? A little fatherly advice from one tree-hugging hippie to another.” The Congressman chuckled at his own joke.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Gaia forced her lips back into a smile. “You both have a lovely evening, okay?”

  “Bye, Gaia.” Heather waved her water glass. “Try the shrimp cocktail. It’s divine beyond belief.”

  Gaia moved away and headed toward the rear of the restaurant, her thoughts churning over each other, even as her eyes were dazzled by the preponderance of black, gilt and amazingly folded napkins.

  Ned was rising from his seat and the ever-attentive waiter pulled out the black leather chair as she neared the table. She flashed him a smile of thanks and slid into it, allowing him to push it behind her knees in that particularly unsettling way that waiters seem to possess in abundance.

  “Hi.” Ned’s expression was happy as he sat back down. “Glad you made it.”

  “May I fetch you something from the bar?” The opulent—and enormous—menu appeared in front of her as the waiter looked—attentive. Again.

  Gaia took a breath and nodded. “Vodka martini, please. Pass on the olives and onions.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She leaned back and took her first good look at Ned. “Oh, my.” Her gaze slid over his grey suit, his spotless white shirt and conservative tie. “You clean up nice, Dr. Harper.”

  And he did. His dark hair shone softly in the muted light of the restaurant even as his brown eyes glowed with some emotion she couldn’t quite put a name to. Appreciation, she hoped, perhaps seasoned with a dash of lust—or maybe that was her projecting her own state of mind right at that moment.

  “And you look even better without the feathers and the beak.” He grinned.

  “I will confess they weren’t exactly a fashion statement. And they itched too.” She grinned back, then looked around. “This is quite lovely, isn’t it?”

  “You haven’t been here before?”

  “Nope. This really isn’t a place people pop down to on a whim.” Her gaze roamed over the elegant surroundings, noting the surprisingly subtle leopard skin pattern of the carpet that perfectly complemented the black wood wainscoting and the gilt ornamentation edging the many mirrors in the room. The designers had really hit a home run with this one.

  “And yet, you have friends here.” Ned nodded back the way she’d come in. “Wasn’t that a congressman you were talking to?”

  Gaia’s martini appeared as if by magic in front of her and the waiter promised to return when they’d had chance to peruse the leather-bound menus. She took a sip and sighed with pleasure. “Yeah, that was Congressman Marshall. The Ohio fourteenth, I think. Nice man. He’s very supportive of environmental issues.”

  “Ah. I thought I recognized him.”

  Gaia stared at Ned over the rim of her martini. She could get into it with him right now, right this minute. Begin the debate on the issues of the environment and clearly define where they both stood—which was apparently on opposite sides.

  Or she could just enjoy her evening with one hellaciously handsome man.

  Hmm. Decisions, decisions…

  *~~*~~*

  Ned wished he knew her well enough to read the variety of expressions that shone in her luminous eyes. She was sizing him up, maybe trying to read him, or perhaps regretting she’d accepted the invitation.

  He didn’t know and wasn’t happy about it.

  Nerves plagued him—another thing he wasn’t too happy about, since he hadn’t been nervous on a date in years. But this one was important, different in some way he couldn’t put a name to.

  All in all, he was unsettled, edgy and—as soon as he’d set eyes on her tall slender figure wending its way toward him—horny as a teenager. She set his sexual fuses alight just by looking at him.

  He knew his goose was well and truly cooked. He just didn’t know if it was going to be perfectly done or burnt to a cinder by this woman.

  He finished his beer. “Thanks for coming, Gaia. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  Something inside her seemed to relax and she eased back in her chair. “Are you kidding? A gorgeous restaurant, the chance of a great steak, the company of a very good looking guy—do I look that stupid?”

  He laughed. “No. And I’m glad to hear you want a steak. I was a bit worried you might be a Vegan and thus offended by my choice of eateries.”

  The conversation turned to food and Ned found himself relaxing as well. They placed their orders—hers for the filet steak she declared herself pining for, along with his for the house specialty, the rib eye.

  Tentatively, they explored each other’s interests, likes and dislikes, finding they shared much in common even before their appetizers were finished.

  Ned caught himself watching her intently, noticing every movement of her mobile features, every glimmer of a smile that curled around her lips, or every laugh that rang out happily from her throat.

  He watched her hair as it slithered around her shoulders, her eyes as they met his so fearlessly, her hands as she waved them around while making a point, all in all, he was—to use a phrase from one of his mother’s romance novels—enraptured with Gaia.

  As if by mutual accord, they steered clear of anything controversial for a while, sticking to topics that could easily have been discussed by anybody. They swapped slices of entrees, Gaia blinking at the size of the prime rib, and he took a good-sized portion of her key lime pie to add to his own dessert choice.

  Finally, they leaned back over their coffee and Ned realized the piano player had selected something soft and bluesy—a nice complement to a meal that had truly been delectable.

  “I’d like to dance with you.” He smiled at her.

  “Because I’m tall?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Doesn’t hurt. We probably shared the same height issues growing up. I was almost permanently stooped from dating average-height women and you…well, it must have been a challenge, to say the least.”

  She chuckled comfortably. “It was. You’d be surprised how many shorter guys hit on me simply because when we danced a slow dance, they’d find their noses right about…” she looked down at her cleavage, “…there.”

  “Don’t blame ‘em.” Ned followed her gaze appreciatively.

  Gaia put her cup carefully back onto the saucer and sighed. “Ned, this has been a fabulous meal, but I don’t think I can hold off my questions any longer.”

  “Questions?”

  “About the dreams.”

  Ned stayed silent, watching her, wondering about things over which he had no control, no point of reference. He didn’t know where to begin or even if this was a discussion they should bother having—it was too freaky, too new-age for his practical turn of mind.

  “Please, Ned.” She reached out and touched his arm, a fleeting brush of her fingertips, but enough to send heat through his body. “I’ve had these dreams for my entire life. They’re not something strange or stupid. They are part of who I am.”

  She was intense now, eyes wide and pupils dark as she stared across the table, a delicate flush of color tinting her skin to hues of peach and rose. “We need to talk about it. I need to know how you know…how you know that name. Gandewitha.” She squeezed his wrist. “That’s my name, Ned. I am Gandewitha.”


  Ned nodded. “Not here, though.” He beckoned the waiter, passed over his credit card, did things with slips of paper and pens and eventually led Gaia from the restaurant back out into the night.

  “Let’s walk.” He breathed in a lungful of air. “If we’re going to talk about this crazy stuff, might as well do it under the stars.”

  A spot of rain spattered on his nose. “Or not.”

  Chapter Six

  He hurried her down K Street from awning to awning, arriving at his hotel just before the skies opened, drenching the mostly quiet roads. Laughing and out of breath, they hurried inside, past the incredibly ornate columns and marble of the foyer and up to Ned’s luxurious little suite.

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect rain after such a great afternoon.” He closed the door behind them, shutting them into their own private world.

  “Not a problem. It happens.” Gaia shook out her floaty shawl and laid it across a chair like the slightly damp wings of a brilliant butterfly, while Ned took off his coat and tie with a sigh of relief. She turned to him, her lips parted as if to speak.

  Ned looked at her and damn near stumbled as a bolt of heat arced between them, a high-voltage jolt of sheer lust that could easily have blown his shoes off or powered a small mid-West town for a week.

  “Gaia.” He murmured her name, his mouth watering for a taste of her, his body aching for the touch of her flesh.

  “Yeah. I know. I feel it too.”

  He held out his arms and she walked into them as she had in his dreams, willingly, without a moment’s hesitation. He slid a hand behind her, pulling their bodies together, his palm sliding up beneath her shirt. Ned was desperate to feel that smooth skin he knew he would find there, all heat and softness, his dream of touching her now becoming a reality.

  Pressing her close, his heart pounded as her curves molded themselves to his chest, a thundering heartbeat that was echoed by the pulse he could see fluttering at the base of her neck as he pushed her long hair away from her shoulders.

  Lowering his lips to hers, Ned kissed her, exploring her mouth, learning her taste, her warmth, her sweetness all over again.