Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola) (23 page)

After her
own estimations, confirmed by those of the guiding device, the trip was going to take a couple of hours. Once she entered the London traffic, she thought the approximate time was just an optimistic appraisal.

Although it was barely afternoon, the light was low a
nd the sky remained covered by clouds. A latent, oppressive tension seemed to hover in the air, charged with static electricity.

When
she got out of London, the road cleared somewhat and she advanced easier. She turned on the radio, in an attempt to rush time and shorten the distance quicker. She had no idea what she was going to say to Gerard, had no plan. Everything she had was in her heart. She prayed to God He’d help her transmit to the man she loved everything she felt. With words, with facts, or simply through the inexplicable spiritual communication that seemed to connect them, ever since the day they’d met.

Lost in reveries of the
moments spent by his side, she followed mechanically the GPS’ instructions, without actively noticing much of the landscape she was crossing, with the speed of the lightning splitting the sky here and there, closer and closer.

At one point, she gazed somewhere
to her left and slowed down involuntarily. In the middle of that green abyss, the stone giants stood proud, contoured on the background of a sky covered by grey-bluish clouds, the same color of the stones from which the huge megaliths were made. Finally, she had reached Stonehenge.

Chapter Twenty-Six

She parked the car on one side of the road – no doubt illegally – behind Gerard’s Jeep and headed slowly, deferentially, to that bizarre place whose existence or mysterious purpose hadn’t yet been elucidated by the banal humankind.

Contrary to her expectations, the place was deserted, no doubt due to the imminent storm. Probably today people righteously assumed it was more prudent to stay at home, instead of an open space, in the company of stone monsters sleeping thei
r millennia sleep on this large green field.

But are
they really sleeping? And are they monsters?
she wondered, a strange feeling flooding her whole being. Ever since she’d had that odd experience in the Hoia-Baciu forest, she tried hard to see a beautiful benevolent side in anything which otherwise seemed threatening or potentially dangerous.

Detached from reality for a split second, in her mind’s eye she envisioned a cortege of those enigmatic Celtic priestesses,
les halouines
, undulating among the megaliths in a strange ritual dance, under the surreal light of a full moon.

Who could know how many secrets these stone soldiers were hiding, how many pieces o
f history they’d witnessed for centuries? And how many of these had been atrocities, human sacrifices having obscure purposes?
she thought gloomily, shaken by a strong chill when she noticed the weak afternoon light appeared to dim with every step she took toward the stone circle. She couldn’t see Gerard anywhere, but she headed determinedly to the motionless giants.

They seemed enormous, these mysterious monuments. Although
, technically, the tallest stone wasn’t more than eight meters, Linda had the impression their tops, rounded by centuries and weather, entwined with the similar-colored clouds, now and then split by lightning. It was an astonishing, breathtaking sight. Perhaps in a different circumstance it would have resembled an apocalyptic vision, but now, crossed by a strange reverential respect, this place fascinated her.

She had the inexpr
essible feeling that inside the circle, time itself was an abstract unstable notion. She had read, of course, books by Diana Gabaldon, a talented author, possessor of an extraordinary imagination and a formidable gift of words. Nothing seemed impossible here, not even fantastic travelling in time and space.

In that
instant she saw Gerard. He sat in the middle of the circle, on a stone which was assumed had served as an altar for the Druids’ sacrifices. Seeing him there, still, his back turned to her, Linda felt her heart racing faster than ever. She ran toward him and he turned in surprise, watching her speechless. He jumped down from the stone, then walked to her, stopping a few feet away.

Linda gazed at him with such
deep yearning she felt herself melting from her love for this man. He was unshaven, dark circles shadowing his eyes. The passion and love she read in the exotic green of those penetrating eyes urged her to take a step toward him, then another. She opened her mouth to say something, but words seemed useless, colorless, expressionless. She raised her left hand, on which she was wearing his ring. Gerard studied it for a moment, but his face remained unchanged. Linda wasn’t able to decipher anything in his attitude. The thought it could be too late pierced her soul and her eyes filled with tears threatening to ruin her carefully applied makeup.

“Please, forgive me,” she
finally whispered, through barely contained sobs. “I was a fool, not only for doubting you, but also because I didn’t appreciate you enough. You were right in everything you said. From the start I tried to avoid you, to keep my distance… Even when our relationship began, I looked for something temporary, without obligations, without my attaching to you. But you know why?”

He went on watchi
ng her, silent, expectant. She went on, while tears were rolling down her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops which had finally began falling.

“Because, same as you, I knew from the first mome
nt I’ve fallen in love with you. I knew if I was gonna let you get close to me, I was gonna love you the way I couldn’t imagine it possible to love a man. And it happened, Gerard. I love you more than my own life. I don’t have a life without you. Nothing makes sense if I don’t have you by my side. My work, my independence, the tranquility I thought I wanted so much don’t mean anything. Nothing can bring me joy and fulfillment if I don’t have you in my life, every day, each second… I love you!”

A strange emotion was
imprinted on his face, and she reached a hesitant hand to touch him. Water was now pouring down their faces and bodies. Rain was falling in a rhythm more and more alert, but none of them noticed.

“Do you… Do you still want me to be your wife?” she asked almost in a whisper,
looking him intently, her teeth sank in her lower lip, where she felt again a vague taste of blood. It didn’t matter, not even if the world would have come to an end right then, it made no difference. She was only interested in Gerard’s answer.

He took her hand in his, softly kissing
the finger on which his ring was shining. Then he lifted his gaze to her, the old vitality and charm back in his eyes. Those eyes smiled at her in the same manner that had enchanted her ever since she’d seen him for the first time.

“Considering I
spent a fortune on this ring, you don’t think I can refuse you now, do you? Especially after such a declaration.”

In spite of his seemingl
y amused tone, the way he pulled her in his arms and kissed her was more serious than ever. She was lost in his embrace, digging her fingers in the muscles of his smooth back, kissing him with all the longing and frantic desire gathered in her since she hadn’t felt his nearness.

* * *

Gerard embraced her hard, running his hands over her body, now wrapped in wet clothes. He buried his fingers in her hair, breathing deeply the scent that had haunted his dreams, huskily whispering words of love in his maternal language – the only one he could remember in these moments. His mind was blinded by a ruthless wave of passion, by the need to possess and claim this woman. His woman.

They made
a few steps, chained in a dizzying embrace, until her back encountered one of the huge standing stones surrounding them. He pressed her with his body against the cold wet stone, his voice rough and urgent.

“I got to have you, Linda. N
ow and forever, I want you to be mine. I love you…”

H
er eyes were closed and her face turned to the sky which now flooded the earth. She didn’t need words to express that her feelings were mirroring his. She clumsily pushed away the wet barrier of her clinging skirt, then surrounded him with all her limbs. They both abandoned to the immense pleasure enveloping the mat the steaming contact of bare skin on bare skin. She gasped when she felt him hard, holding her with his strong arms, sinking into her with a supreme sigh of satisfaction and possession.

She opened her eyes and
their gazes connected with a startling impact. She looked mesmerized by the green of his eyes. He saw that green reflected in her blue irises. It seemed wild, untamed, as intense and penetrating as their love-making.

She seemed
lost in the tumult of feelings and sensations he provoked her. A moan escaped through her lips, wet from the rain and from his kisses. Her entire body trembled, consumed by the same enormous pleasure he was feeling.

After the rhythm of their breathing and pulses slowed, they remained entwined at the base of the huge megalith, slowly sliding down, on the wet muddy grass.

Still shaken by reverberations of the mome
nt they’d shared, they gazed at each other for a long while. He kissed her lips softly, saying regretfully:

“I’m sorry, I was too rough… Your lip is bleeding again.”

He let his forehead touch hers, continuing:

“I don’t know what happens to me when I’m with you,
Linda. I simply lose control. You seem to unravel all that’s primitive and intense in me…”

She
stroked his wet hair then whispered:

“I feel the same, my lo
ve. You don’t have to apologize. I think it’s something marvelous, a sensation very few couples experience.”

“Do you think it will last ‘till death do us part?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “I’m sure of that. Each time when I’m with you, my passion grows, it has never decreased in its intensity. And I know you feel the same thing. In any case, we have all the time in the world to find out together what we’ll feel for each other when we’ll grow old.”

He lifted his eyes
to hers.

“Is it tru
e, baby? Are you really gonna be my wife?”

He looked around,
for the first time aware of where they were and what they were doing.

“This place is as strange as that
forest, just in a different way. How can I be sure you’re real, that this wasn’t just a dream or another… paranormal experience, surreal, like that one?” he asked, caressing her cheek, tracing with his fingers the falling raindrops.

Linda smiled, in an enigmatic way he
found extremely sexy.

“It’s real, alright, my love. Everything is real – you, me, this place. It’s not a dream. Nor was what we lived together in the Baciu forest.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her answer, then watched in amazement as she slightly detached herself from his body and took out something from the pocket of her white sweater, now soaking wet. She lifted her hand, revealing the object she held.

It
was a white ivory-like rock, which perfectly fit in her palm. In the darkness that had fallen over Stonehenge plateau, the object emanated a bizarre phosphorescent glow. It had many edges, some of them rounded, some elongated, all reflecting light in a strangely spectacular way.

Linda
triumphantly lifted her gaze to him, her eyes brilliant with odd light reflections.

“Remember this?”

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anca-Melinda Coliolu, writing as Melinda De Ross, lives in her native Romania with her husband and a pair of rude parrots. She attended Law School and got her degree but worked as a journalist for several newspapers, polishing her writing skills.

It never occurred to her that she wanted a career as an author until she began writing, as therapy to get perspective on a crucial part of her life.

Melinda was a professional target shooter for a decade, winning multiple National Championships. She was breaking records in her teens until health issues forced her to give up the sport.

Out of that heartbreak,
Rendezvous with Hymera
– her first novel – started taking shape and so began her career as a Romantic Suspense author.

Melinda has always been a fan of writers like Diana Gabaldon, Nora Roberts and Sandra Brown. Currently she weaves romance into tales laced with the paranormal and occult. Her interests in yoga, philosophy and a large range of other disciplines give her work depth and color.

Her next project, the series
Coriola
, begins with the first book,
Mirage Beyond Flames
, released in December 2013.