“Viviana” the unearthly voice called from shadows in the corner.

She gasped and reached for the switch. The lights didn’t spark.

The door closed behind her with a faint click and she spun around to see… nothing.

“Who’s there? I – I mean, I’ve got a gun – and I know judo. Don’t come any closer.”

A deep laugh answered her. “That is what I love about you, Viviana. You are fearless.”

His voice sounded closer, but she heard no rustling of clothes, saw no movement between surrounding shadows and the lightning outside her window.

Then he touched her cheek.  “Yet you always tremble in my arms.”
It wasn’t right to relax the instant she felt him near, to press her cheek against his hand, and to long for his arms to coil around her waist… but it wasn’t real. She told herself, it couldn’t be.

She sighed, again feeling the effects of the champagne wash over her. “Always?”

“Nearly every night,” he whispered in her ear. “You could not forget.”

“No,” she agreed, breathless, moving closer still. “But it wasn’t real. Just like this isn’t real. It’s a dream. I must have fallen asleep before any of this happened. Maybe I’m sleeping near the window…”

“Of course,” he whispered against her lips before tasting her.

Copyright ® 2006 - 2007

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