Echoes of Tomorrow (8 page)

Finally, the night before Elise's trip came and she begged off early.  She needed a few hours sleep before her one-thirty a.m. show time.

After dozing for a few hours and tossing in a restless sleep, she finally gave up and got out of bed a little after midnight.  She shuffled into the shower and stepped into a lukewarm blast of water.

The shower revived her enough to get her into her captain's uniform, finish her make-up and blow dry her hair.  She had a quick bite to tide her over until morning, then she found herself standing with uncertainty at the bottom of the cantilevered staircase.  An indecisive right foot rested lightly on the bottom step.  She made her decision, lowered her head and quietly climbed the stairs.

Her footsteps were soft as she walked to Reed's bedroom door, eased it open and peered around the edge.  Alarm shot through her.  She searched the rumpled sheets for Reed's body, and the same nausea she'd experienced a few days earlier overwhelmed her.  She forced herself to take several deep breaths to regulate her breathing, then she walked with hesitant and hopeful steps down the hall to the den.

She stood in the doorway and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room.  A silhouette rose from the chair by the window and moved toward her.

Each step was indecisive, uncertain, and as Reed's dear face formed in the darkness Elise realized her heart had been lodged in her throat.

He was in front of her now, towering over her.  When she raised her face to look into his eyes, he slipped his arms around her and gently pulled her to him.  She laid her head on his chest and her arms encircled his waist as she made contact with his body.  She thought if she tried, she could melt right into him.  Long seconds passed as she rubbed her cheek on his chest in a slow, sensual motion, savoring his clean scent and the foreign feeling of complete contentment.

She raised her chin to smile at him, her cheek still on his chest.  Reed's head dipped until his lips brushed hers, brushed them again, and came back to rest for a long, gentle kiss, full of warmth and tenderness.  Elise felt her resolve as well as her knees weaken.  She also felt an undercurrent of something; was it pain?  She wasn't even certain if the pain was hers, from all of her past disappointments, or if she was feeling a level of pain from Reed.  He held her as if he didn't want to, yet kissed her as if he never wanted to stop.

Her warm hands moved over his back, and she gave in to the ache at the center of her chest.  Reed pulled away and gazed down at her with a tender, unrepentant look on his face.

"I'm not sorry for that.  I have held that in for days, and as I sat here thinking of you leaving, I realized I wanted to kiss you more than I wanted to breathe."

Elise blinked when she felt the first burning of tears, then forced a flirtatious grin and whispered, "I'm not sorry, either.  I was beginning to think  I'd have to take matters into my own hands and molest you."

Reed's shock was only partially feigned.  These weeks with Elise had taught him that she was outrageously unconventional, and that she was forever doing the unexpected.  He realized with amusement that she probably meant what she'd said about molesting him.  Now
there
was a pleasant thought.

The moment had been lightened, and Elise told him that she needed to get moving or she just might not go.

He watched her gallop down the stairs in the manner he was finally getting used to.  As she pulled open the front door she turned and blew him a kiss, her eyes sparkling, then the door shut behind her.  Days ago he had learned that she didn't need or want an escort every time she stepped out of the house.

He watched from the upstairs window in the den when Elise honked and waved as she tore out of the driveway.  He'd never felt so alone in his life.

*******

It was quite possible that driving the Jag down the driveway was the hardest thing Elise had ever forced herself to do.  Before she even got into the car she'd felt an emptiness well up inside her that was physically painful.

She forced herself to drive to the airport, file a flight plan, get on the plane, and take off.  She knew if she let the co-pilot take control she'd entertain ideas about coming down with a sudden, debilitating illness.  A captain on standby at the airport would have to be called in.  No, she needed to function at full capacity so her mind would be filled with the flight and not of Reed.

To make matters worse, when she'd gotten to work there had been a message from Jeffrey in her Email.  The message half begged, half threatened Elise to meet him.  Her skin crawled.  Jeffrey didn't have access to the company computers.  How in the world had he gotten into the system?  She'd attempted to trace the message to the terminal of origination but hit a blank wall.   She didn't have time for this.  She'd logged off, balanced her pubs bag on her rolling suitcase and left for the crew bus.

*******

The four days passed.  Elise called once, but only after the machine picked it up and Reed heard her voice did he answer.  She told him she was moping whenever she ran out of things to occupy her mind.  She was so preoccupied that her crew gave up all attempts at conversation and socializing  with her after the first two days.

Reed found himself moping, too.  This was only after he had read books, ridden horses, and walked the entire width and breadth of the plantation.  He'd "practiced" with the toaster, coffee maker, microwave, and telephone.  When he'd gotten several "Hellos" on the other end, and once even a monologue in a foreign language, he'd decided to stop practicing with the latter.

He then gave in and turned his thoughts fully to Elise.  He relived all of their conversations and outings, especially dwelling on the last few moments they'd spent together.

As he sat in the chair and stared at the sunset, he felt the last vestiges of energy drain from his body, as if someone had turned on a tap and drained him.  His last thought as his head sank back comfortably onto the soft headrest was that this time tomorrow night Elise would be home.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Jag roared into the driveway at two in the morning.  Elise threw the car into park and jumped out.  She ran up the steps, tried the door and found it locked, then wasted precious seconds fumbling for the right key.  Every second wasted was an eternity.  It already seemed like she'd been separated from Reed for a month.

Once the door was unlocked, she threw it open and yelled, "Reed!  Reed, I'm home!"

She stood poised, ready for his reply, but only a chilling silence greeted her.  She burst into the foyer and took the stairs two at a time as she called Reed's name.  Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and desperation caused her voice to crack.

His room was empty.  She raced to her own and performed the ritual of the desperate by opening closet doors and looking in every corner.  She even checked in the shower, though the water wasn't on and she knew he wasn't there.

With exaggerated gentleness she closed the shower door, as if pushing too hard would cause it to shatter.

A film of sweat collected on her skin.  As she turned toward the hallway she didn't even realize she was talking to herself.

"He's in the den.  Yeah.  He'd wait for me there."  She forced herself to walk calmly down the huge hallway.  "He's in the den.  He's asleep in the den.  Let him be in the den.  Please, God, let him be in the den."

Empty.

She stood in the doorway and scanned every inch of the room, her breathing so shallow it was almost non-existent.  The hair  on her neck dampened, and she swallowed convulsively.  A trickle of sweat ran between her breasts.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, nooooo!  He's not gone!  Please!"  She flattened herself against the door and begged for this not to be true.  Her body slowly slid down the wall, and she slumped to her knees.

She felt as if her body had become a vacuum.  A totally empty shell.  She took her fist and pressed it hard against the center of her chest to try and ease the pain.

As she knelt there, her head shaking back and forth in a futile, agonized denial, she became aware of music filtering into her consciousness.  She slowly raised her head and turned, unable to pinpoint its origin.

With the dread of someone in mouning, she rose from her kneeling position and slowly, resentfully made her way back down the hallway.  Whatever this was, she couldn't deal with it right now.  If Jeffrey was in the house again, she would kill him.

When she approached the top of the stairs the music became clear enough for her to identify.  It was "The Emperor's Waltz."

Totally confused, and not a little hesitant, she held tight to the banister and made her way down to the first floor.  The music drifted from the ballroom. 

Could it be Reed?  It couldn't be.  There was no stereo equipment in the ballroom, and even if there was, he wouldn't know how to work it.  He would have answered her call when she entered the house.

She stopped in the foyer and picked up her tear gas, then walked the length of the hall. Confusion and fear muddled her thoughts.  Pushing one of the white, gilt-trimmed double doors open to arm's length, she hesitated, then peeked into the enormous, mirrored room. 

She expected to see Jeffrey.  It was just like him to come into her house again and commandeer it.  Her adrenaline pumping, she was ready for a fight.  Her heartbeat roared in her ears. 

What she saw made her heart stop.

At the far end of the room, leaning against a white, marble mantel, a lazy fire glowing behind him, stood Reed.  He was dressed in the clothes he'd arrived in, gazing at her with a nonchalant, sensual smile.

As she watched, he pushed himself away from the mantel, clicked his heels once and bowed.  In the most seductive voice she'd ever heard he asked huskily, "Would you honor me with this dance?"

For the first time in her life, she fainted.

*******

Her first awareness was a coolness on her forehead, then a gentle, yet persistent, tapping on her cheeks.  She took a deep breath and forced her eyes open.  The sight she encountered was that of a nearly hysterical Reed.  He frantically patted her cheeks, then rubbed her hands between his.

"Thank God, Elise!  You're awake!  I thought I'd killed you!  I never meant to scare you.  I'd never..."

Elise threw her arms around his neck and cut off any further apologies.  She hugged him so hard he coughed.  When she loosened her grip slightly, his arms encompassed her and returned her hug with an urgency of his own.

She buried her face in his neck and chanted, "Thank you, God!  Thank you, God!  Thank you, God!"   She laughed and cried at the same time.

His fingers splayed across the base of her skull, massaging and kneading as he rubbed his cheek across the top of her head.

"My sentiments exactly," he whispered hoarsely.  He gave her a final squeeze, then drew away.

"I'm sorry, little one," he moaned as his thumb wiped away a tear from her cheek.  "I've spoiled everything.  I remembered you saying one of your dreams was to dance around the room to a waltz, and I only wanted to fulfill that dream.  I didn't answer you when you came in because I was having trouble working this damnable music machine I'd moved in here.  I didn't want you to find me out until I had the stage set, so to speak.  I never imagined I'd frighten you into a faint."

Elise could only stare at Reed.  Never, ever, in all her experience with men, had a man ever done anything so sweet, so thoughtful, as to try to fulfill even her smallest dream.  According to them, all her wildest fantasies would be fulfilled if she'd only fall into bed with them.  She'd opted not to fulfill those fantasies in all but two cases.  And those two times when she had given in had been major disappointments.

She continued to stare, and when all of Reed's words sank in, her aching heart transformed into a glowing smile.

"Wait right there," she ordered.  "Don't move!"

She uncurled her arms from around his neck, then flew down the hallway and thundered up the stairs.

He was worried.  He'd made Elise swoon, and when he'd explained himself she'd looked at him as if he'd sprouted horns.  Granted, she had smiled at him before she'd run away, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something wrong. 

It seemed an eternity passed before Reed heard her footsteps in the hallway.  As he stopped pacing he experienced a sense of dread.  Her steps were slow and deliberate, not the usual quick-stepped clatter she was wont to create.

A shadow fell across the floor in front of him.  He raised his head slowly, expecting the worst.

His gaze, however, did not encounter Elise.  At least not the Elise he knew.  The person he stared at was an ethereal creature, bathed in a golden light from the fire, and garbed in an exquisite gown of delicate peach silk.  The skirt still rippled around her calves from her sudden stop in the doorway.  A multitude of dangling beads on the bodice shimmered with each quick, excited breath she took.

His eyes raked her hungrily, from the top of her golden brown hair, piled in artless curls at her crown, to the tips of her satin-clad slippers.