Tales From Mysteria Falls (5 page)

“She planned to write new endings to the legends of tragic lovers throughout history. Tristan and Isolde were the first couple for whom she wrote a happy ending. She was eloquent with words and a master at composing angelic music.”

Krisana gasped. “
Come Back to Me
. She wrote it?”

“Yes,” he rasped. “But she never got to publicly perform it. She died the night before its premiere—”

“How?  What happened?” she asked, but she feared she already knew.

“Me,” he said harshly.

Shocked by his words and the devastating pain ravaging his voice, Krisana reached out to touch him.

Lord Daniels pulled back. “Don’t offer me comfort. It was my fault she died. I didn’t listen to her. She begged me not to go to a meeting because she had this strange feeling that something would go wrong. I told her not to worry. That I would be safe. She thought I was the one in danger and I…selfish bastard that I was…never considered she would be harmed. You see, the world was all about me then. There was a fire at the opera house. Anya died in the blaze.”

Krisana sucked in a deep breath. Even though she’d been prepared, she still felt the horror of it. When she had touched the door this morning, she’d somehow felt the fire. And the nightmares of pain and panic that had wakened her during the night for years, had to be Anya’s ghost reaching out. Tears filled Krisana’s eyes.

“And now you are back,” Lord Daniels said softly. “You’ve come back to me.”

Krisana blinked away her tears, and recoiled at the desperation in his voice. He had to have seen her movement because his hands fisted and his breathing rasped harshly.

“I’m sorry for your loss, but…I’m not Anya,” Krisana whispered.

“I know you are not her, but for me, I feel that her spirit lives within you. I hear it in your voice when you sing. I see it in your smile. I feel it in your presence. I can’t tell you how much joy that brings me at this point in my life. That’s one reason I’m giving you half of the opera house, because I know you’ll love the place as Anya did. The other two reasons are, I’d like for you to perform her opera for just me tomorrow night, on Valentine’s Day. It was when she’d planned to sing it. And the last reason was
me
being a romantic fool. I’d hope you and my nephew would take an interest in each other. He’s like I was at his age, only a much better musician and singer. You’re like Anya and I thought that by giving you both the opera house, you two would make Anya’s dreams come true. So I want you to think about performing
Come Back to Me
at the opera house tomorrow night, on Valentine’s. Let me know your answer tonight at dinner. It would mean the world to me. JD would accompany you. For years I despaired that he’d waste his talents on rock music, but he’s come along recently.”

“He did the pipe organ justice earlier. I keep forgetting to ask. What does JD stand for?”

“Jack Daniels, but don’t tell him I told you. He’ll shoot me for it.”

Krisana winced.

“Yeah,” he said. “I always thought my brother had poor judgment, God rest his soul.”

The idea of doing a private performance of a dead woman’s opera for her grieving, elderly lover seemed strange, yet it felt like fate.

Lord Daniels set several things on the table before her. One was the
Come Back to Me
opera score, the others were small books with fire damaged edges—Anya’s diaries. Krisana shivered, feeling as if she already knew what she’d read between the pages because of her dreams.

She picked up the opera score and slid her finger over the hand-written page. Anya had had beautiful handwriting. “I don’t see any reason why I can’t—”

“No dear. I really insist you take a little time to think about it. Read through the opera and let me know at dinner tonight. I don’t want you to feel you’ve been coerced and to really do the opera justice, you’ll have to see and feel for yourself the story Anya was trying to tell. If after going through it you don’t, then I’ll understand.”

Krisana smiled. “All right. I’ll give you my answer tonight.”

“Good. For now I’m going to rest. I feel a storm coming on. My old bones ache. You sit here and enjoy more of the observatory. If you’d like to take a swim or use the hot tub, there are guest suits in the changing rooms and Martha can get you anything else you need.”

He backed his wheelchair from the table and motored adeptly out of the observatory. She eyed the hot tub. A steamy soak was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

K
risana leaned back in
the bubbling water and shut her eyes against the warm sun turning the tropical observatory into a toasty oasis. It was all so perfect. She had to wonder if it was all a dream. That she’d soon wake and find herself alone in her Georgetown apartment with all of this gone, leaving her with no answers to her plaguing dreams…and no JD. The sense of disappointment that hit her with that musing told her just how attached she’d already become to both men and Anya’s tragic story. Performing
Come Back to Me
with heart wasn’t going to be a problem.

Something cut the sun from her face and she snapped her eyes open, afraid the dark shadow from earlier had returned. She found JD standing in front of her with motorcycle helmet in hand. He still wore his torn pants, black shirt, and leather jacket. He was back from his errand and looked more dangerous than ever.

“The old man says he asked you to sing tomorrow. I told him he should have waited. He’s pushing you to his agenda.”

She sat up, conscious of the way JD’s gaze dipped to the plunging V of her swimsuit. She thought the one-piece a better choice than the string bikini, but the way it pushed up her breasts was just as inviting. Rather than dip back into the steamy water or bring her arm up to cover herself, Krisana rolled her shoulders back. She wanted JD to find her irresistible. “He’s fine. If I can bring him a few moments of happiness by singing, then it’s worth it.”

“Then you’re going to do it?”

“I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t.”

JD laughed. “You don’t know how he operates. One song tomorrow, then he’ll want other people to hear Anya’s opera—a matinee for the townspeople perhaps. The next thing you know, you’ll be performing it across the country. Little by little, he will lure you to his way.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll see. I am not a complete pushover to another person’s whims, but it wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

JD put his helmet on the hot tub’s ledge, went to one knee, and leaned down. His mouth was inches from hers. The heat in his gaze was steamier than the tub. “What about me?  Am I a bad thing?  Or can I lure you little by little to my way, too?”

Krisana grabbed his jacket lapels and pulled his mouth down to hers. He groaned, his tongue delving into her mouth as he slid his hand to the back of her neck. One second they were on fire, kissing hard, and the next he lost his balance. He fell on top of her, his hard body pressing her against her. Rather than cooling their kiss, their passion caught fire. A frenzy of searching hands and urging touches had him shedding his jacket and shirt. He lifted her from the water and set her on the tub’s edge, then slid between her legs. He still wore his jeans and boots and the medieval cross at his throat, but the rest of him was gloriously bare. Krisana couldn’t get enough of him—of kissing him or touching him. His broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and rippling abs were toned, hot, and capable. She relished exploring the silk of his hair, the scruff on his shadowed jaw, and feeling the power that rippled with his every move. JD wasn’t just handsome and sexy. He was charismatic. She could feel him deep inside her just by looking at him…or him looking at her as he was doing at that moment.

“Kris,” he whispered, his gaze raw. “We need to stop. Another minute and I’m going to strip you and take you right here. I’m going to suck your breasts.”  He cupped her them and slid his finger down her stomach to press where she ached the most. “And I’m going to kiss you here, until you scream with pleasure.”  He flicked his finger over her hardened need and she cried out as her hips danced to the music of his touch.

“Damn,” he said. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop. I crave your pleasure more than air to breathe.”  He claimed her mouth and shoved his fingers beneath the crotch of her swimsuit to stroke her flesh-to-flesh. She came apart, moaning and shuddering, feeling helpless and exhilarated beneath the onslaught of their passion.

“Don’t move. Someone’s coming,” he said under his breath. He backed away from her quickly and sat on the other side of the tub. She blinked at him, clinging for balance on the edge of the hot tub as her body shook from the waves of lingering pleasure.

“I’m in here, Martha,” he called out.

“You’re back. There’ll be no delay in dinner tonight then?”

“No. Eight, as usual, if that’s all right with our guest. Kris?”

“Uh, fine,” Krisana said, her cheeks burning too much for her to even look at the kind woman. JD had to have amazing hearing. What if she’d come moments earlier?  The woman would think Kris was the worst hussy to walk into town. What was happening to her?

“Will either of you need anything else?”

“Nothing from you, Martha. Thank you.”  JD looked at Krisana, his gaze full of desire and amusement.

Krisana wanted to disappear beneath the bubbling water. What would the woman think? His “nothing from you” response was terribly suggestive of what he wanted from Krisana. Martha left and Krisana stood. She walked on wobbly knees to get a nearby towel. Before she could admonish JD for his reply, he spoke. “Please forgive me. I have all of these great intentions and then the second you touch me, I lose everything but my desire to touch you. It’s damnable to end up wanting the very thing I had determined
not
to be involved in. You know this is what he wanted—the old man—he’s planned this and that irks me, but I can’t stay away from you. Best leave before I peel that suit down and satisfy us both.”

Krisana wanted to turn and run. Instead, she forced herself to stay calm. Along with her clothes, she collected the things Lord Daniels had given her. She arched her brow. “Well, Jack, considering that, I’ll be looking forward to dinner then.”  She heard him rise up out of the water, and quickened her step, but she still added a swing to her hips. She smiled, picturing him at dinner, having to be proper, but squirming as he thought about her.

“Y
ou look delectable.”

Krisana turned from the painting of Tristan and Isolde she’d been studying to watch JD saunter into the room. He wore black jeans, a milk chocolate pullover good enough to eat, and his jeweled cross. The brown made his eyes impossibly bluer—or was it the predatory intensity in them. He came right at her. Her heart pounded. She stepped away to the window overlooking the lake.

“Martha said dinner was ready,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry.

His smile was pure seduction. “I know. I spoke to her already. The old man won’t be joining us tonight. He’s feeling a little under the weather.”

 “Will he be all right?” she asked, frowning.

“I’m sure. His bones ache. Something about a storm coming. Martha’s going to read to him tonight.”  He slid his gaze over her with a sensual promise that he seemed moments from delivering on. “Can you make do with just me tonight?”

“We’ll have to see,” she said doubtfully and went to the table.

He pulled out her chair. After she sat, he caressed her bare shoulders and leaned close to her ear. “Careful, I’m a man who loves a challenge.”

His scent, a heady mix of spice and alluring musk, made her feel very “challenging” at that moment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Moving away, he lit candles, dimmed the lights, and put on music that softly whispered love and passion into the seductive shadows of the room. He claimed the chair adjacent to hers, brushing his long legs against her bare ones. Though elegant, the black chiffon high-low dress was strapless, and revealing. She’d worn it thinking there’d be others present at dinner. Now she needed more armor against his sex appeal. They may end up taking their attraction to the next level before the night was over, but that didn’t mean she had to be a mindless idiot in the interim.

“Wine?”  He picked up the bottle of Merlot next to him.

She nodded, even as she wondered if she dared.
He
was intoxicating enough.

After pouring, he raised his glass for a toast. “To you and interesting possibilities,” he said softly.

“Make that to you and
me
, and interesting possibilities,” she added. Their glasses clinked and anticipation rushed over her senses. She liked the idea of interesting possibilities with him. Taking a sip, she let the smooth, dry taste tingle over her tongue before swallowing. Liking it, she drank again, enjoying the stimulating seduction. Melt- in- your-mouth filet mignon, light roasted potatoes, and buttered asparagus followed, as they talked about her music and the work he’d done to restore the opera house. Throughout the meal, her gaze kept settling on the cross. More and more, she felt as if she’d seen in before.

“So, when you aren’t performing, what do you do to relax?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. His warm legs brushed hers again as he stretched.

She shrugged. “I read and write stories, but if you tell anyone, I will deny it. It’s bad enough to have my voice up for criticism. I’d rather keep my mind and heart private.”

He laughed. “Your secret is safe with me. What kind of stories?”

Blushing, she toyed with her wine glass and sipped before answering. “Paranormal romance. I like thinking there are possibilities of life and love out there that we just don’t know about yet.”

JD stilled and a sudden tension filled the space between them, as if what she’d said had a great deal of significance.

“What about you?  What do you read?”

He shook his head and offered an amused smile. “The opposite of you. I read stories about real life—the mundane and simple. I like thinking that such things are real and important. They keep me grounded.”

“But don’t you have that every day, living in Mysteria Falls?  It’s so rural compared to D.C.”

He laughed, and the full, rich timbre sent a shiver to places already eager for every morsel of him. “Rural doesn’t necessarily mean mundane, or ordinary. Do I strike you as being those?”  His eyes darkened with desire so hot that she couldn’t think past her short-circuiting erogenous zones.

“No.”  She moistened her lips. He watched her every movement. “The cross you wear. Tell me about it.”

He slipped the thick chain over his neck and handed it to her. “It’s a remarkable piece of medieval craftsmanship, for it’s a weapon as well. Press the release button on the back.”

She followed his instruction. The cross separated into a deadly jeweled dagger and its sheath. “Wow. Beautiful
and
deadly.”  She handed it back to him.

“You keep it,” he said, leaning her way and slipping the chain over her head. It fell heavily between her breasts.

“Oh, no, really I couldn’t.”  She clasped the warm cross to take it off and he set his hand over hers.

“Please, I like to think of you as being armed at all times. And I get more pleasure seeing it between your breasts than around my neck.”  His thumb snaked out to caress along the rise of her beast and across her nipple. She shivered, forgetting everything in her mind but the feel of his touch. “Speaking of romance and possibilities,” he said softly, “why don’t we explore some of those in the ballroom?  Would you care to dance, Kris?”  He held out his hand as he stood.

She let the cross fall between her breasts and set her hand in his. Her stomach made a flip and her heart pounded as her every sense opened to the tantalizing temptations of having his body close to hers.

When they reached the ballroom, he didn’t turn on any lights, but swept her into his arms to dance in and out of the moonbeams streaming though the tall glass windows. It wasn’t a waltz and it wasn’t a slow dance. He moved in ways she’d never moved before, but knew by heart. They were in perfect sync, a flowing harmony of hard against soft, powerful against yielding and she gave herself over to him completely.

The entire day, seeing the opera house from her dreams, meeting JD, meeting Lord Daniels and seeing Anya’s portrait had been confusingly surreal, but in some strange way, not unexpected. It was as if she was meant to be here, and meant to know this man who attracted her more than any man before.

At first, he held one of her hands pressed to his chest where she could feel the beat of his heart. His other hand rested at the small of her back, encircling her in his embrace. She stared into his eyes, feeling with every passing moment that this man was no stranger to her.

The more they danced, the closer they drew, as unspoken need eroded all barriers. Her arms slid around his neck and she sifted her fingers through his silken hair. His arms wrapped around her and his hands left a trail of fire as they caressed her back and urged her tighter to the hard heat of his body. Her breasts pressed to his chest so tightly that every movement teased her sensitive nipples. Slowing the dance, he slid a hard thigh between her legs and cupped her bottom, pressing her tight to the firm rise of his erection.

The slow, rhythmic brush of his body and arousal drove her crazy. She moaned—wanting, needing more.

“Kris?” he said, his voice no more than a strangled plea.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, lifting her face to his.

His sigh of pleasured relief was muffled as he claimed her mouth, a full assault from the moment his lips met hers. His tongue delved deep, searching for her soul and she answered his call, reaching for his. He maneuvered until his back hit the wall and he could lean and lift her whole body flush to his. He kissed her deeper, harder, but it wasn’t enough – it would never be enough. She kissed him and writhed for more, succumbing to the firestorm of passion consuming her.