THE DREAM CHILD (24 page)

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Authors: Emma Daniels

BOOK: THE DREAM CHILD
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He felt his father’s hand on his hunched shoulders. “I can’t go through this again, Dad,” he ground out.
“I’m sure she’s on her way,” James appeased.
Victor’s response was to shudder. “Why won’t any of them answer their god-damned phones,” he cried.
“Well, try them again,” James suggested.
Victor pulled his mobile out of his pocket, but his fingers shook too much to press the appropriate buttons.

“Here, let me do it,” James suggested. Victor handed him the phone, but it was obvious to both of them that none of them were contactable.

“Go get Adrian. I’m going home. I’m not going back there to face them again,” Victor insisted when James handed the phone back.

“Can’t you give it a few more minutes?”

Victor growled out load, now so incensed he could barely see straight. “Why can’t they at least ring someone, for God’s sake? Tell someone what the Hell is going on.”

James placed his arm around Victor’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” But his tone held no conviction. Victor knew he dreaded the exact same thing he did, that he’d been stood up again.

 

“Where on earth are they?” Sophie muttered, as she peered through the curtains into the street. “I have to be there in half an hour, and the car isn’t even here yet.”

“Want me to ring them and find out?” Allan suggested from behind her.

Sophie nodded. “Thanks Dad.”

She returned her attention to the street. Still no sign of the hire-car. She didn’t want to be late, knowing what Victor had been going through these past few weeks. No one but her knew how edgy he’d become. She’d almost called the whole thing off, deciding that they were living as a married couple anyway. But when she broached the subject, he’d told her that the marriage ceremony was as important to him as it was to her.

They both believed in making the biding vows, the legality of becoming husband and wife, which was why they had decided to go through with it. Sophie thought she’d had everything organised to a tee, but now something as simple as the hire-car being late was making her gnaw her lipstick off in agitation.

She heard her father on the phone behind her. When he hung up, he told her they would be here in a couple of minutes.

“All right, why don’t you lock up the house, Rita. Dad and I will go out the front to wait,” Sophie said, heading for the front door.

She stepped outside and began walking down the steps, but the kitten-heel of one of her pearly court shoes got caught between a crack in the pavers, and she suddenly felt herself stumble.

With a squeal she tumbled sideways into the garden, landing with her left leg twisted underneath her. For a moment she couldn’t see as her white lacy petticoats wafted up around her.

“Sophie! Sophie!” Rita gasped from behind her. “Are you all right?” She felt her sister’s hands on her bare shoulders.

Sophie moaned, trying to push all the frothy lace away so she could get her arms under her to try and sit up. “My ankle,” she moaned.

“There’s the car,” Allan said, as he too arrived at her side.

Sophie’s vision was too blurred with tears of pain to see anything.

“You’re bleeding!” Rita gasped. “And it’s getting on your dress.”

“Blow the damned dress. Let me have a look at the damage,” Allan insisted, as he came to crouch on the step below Sophie. “A deep graze by the looks of it. Get your first-aid kit, Rita, and an ice pack.”

Behind him, Sophie saw a middle-aged man wearing a smart black suit appear at the gate. “I apologize for being late…” he trailed off when he saw them. “Anything I can do to help?”

Sophie started to sob. “I can’t be late.”

“Well, you have no choice now. Might even have to take you to hospital,” her father muttered, as he fished a pristine white handkerchief from the top pocket of his jacket. He pressed it to her ankle to try and staunch the blood flow.

“Oww,” Sophie moaned. “That hurts.”

Rita returned a moment later with the first-aid kit and an ice pack.

“Let me just stop the bleeding first,” Allan said, as he continued to press the handkerchief to her ankle. Sophie watched it turn red from the blood seeping into it.

“Can’t we do this in the car?” she wailed. “We’re already late, as it is.”

“Sophie!” Allan hissed. “You’re still bleeding, and you might have even sprained it. If Vic can’t wait a few minutes then maybe you shouldn’t be marrying him.”

“You don’t understand Dad. He was left standing at the altar once. He’s been stressing out about it for weeks. I can’t let him think I’ll do the same thing to him.”

Allan looked up at her in concern. “You never told me that. Let’s just bandage it first, and then see if we can get you into the car.”

Rita found a large gauze pad in the kit, and Allan placed it over the gash, which was now only oozing a bit. Rite then handed him a long bandage which Allan wrapped tightly around Sophie’s ankle.

“I’d really like some Panadol,” Sophie gritted out, as her father secured the bandage with a safety pin. He then placed the ice pack against her ankle, and she winced again.

“Be right back,” Rita said.

When she returned, Sophie gulped down some water and downed the pills, then handed the glass back to her sister. “Now help me up,” she announced.

“I’ll just take this back into the house and lock up,” Rita said.

Allan and the driver helped Sophie onto one foot. She felt dizzy, and leant heavily against her father. “What about my other shoe?” she asked.

“I don’t think you’re going to get that back on,” Allan muttered, but he bent to pick it up.

“Oh, Soph, the side of your dress is all stained and torn,” Rita cried, as she came back down the stairs.

“Well, we don’t have time to clean it now,” Sophie retorted.

“I’ll see what I can do in the car,” Rita muttered.

Between the two of them, the driver and her father, managed to carry Sophie to the waiting Limousine, where they bustled her into the back. Rita climbed in beside her and Allan slid into the seat opposite, where he took hold of Sophie’s injured foot and placed it in his lap. He returned the ice pack to it, making her moan again.

The driver closed the door and got back into the front. Rita immediately began fussing about Sophie’s tear stained make-up.

“Just let me rest for a moment,” Sophie insisted. “I don’t feel too good right now.”

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Allan asked.

“Dad, I
have
to be there,” she insisted. “Will you ring him for me, tell him not to worry, that we’re on our way.”

“Sure, sure. Calm down.” Allan dug around in his pockets. “I can’t find my phone. Must have fallen out when I pulled out my hanky. It’s probably in the garden somewhere, Rita.”

“I’ll look for it when we get back. Are you up to some new make-up yet, Soph?”

“No… Driver!” she called. “Have you got a phone?”

“We’ll be there soon enough, love,” Allan told her.

“Well, put your foot down then,” Sophie insisted.

To her surprise the driver did just that, weaving in and out of the traffic as fast as the road rules permitted, but Sophie knew they would still be over half an hour late.

 

“They’re here, Vic,” James said close to his ear.

Victor looked up. He was still standing at the front to the house, when he saw the Limousine with the white ribbons navigated its way up the steep drive towards him. He raked a trembling hand through his hair. For some reason he couldn’t stop shaking.

She hadn’t stood him up after all, and before he knew it, tears burned his eyes. Impatiently he scrubbed them away, and marched up to the car as it came to a halt in the circular drive. He had the back door open before the driver had even opened his.

“You’re not meant to be out here,” Rita roused on him, as he leant forward to peer into the back of the car. She looked beautiful in her lavender chiffon brides-maid’s gown, but when his gaze fell on Sophie, Victor felt the tears well again.

She was a vision in white lace and satin. Her beautiful long hair had been piled up onto her head and intertwined with flowers, leaving several strands to curl seductively over her milky shoulders. She wore a pair of delicate pearl and crystal earrings and a matching necklace, a set she had no doubt made herself.

“Vic,” she breathed when she saw him. He looked so handsome in his smart black suit, she just wanted to hug him. “I’m sorry we’re late. I –“

“She fell down the stairs,” Allan finished for her, as he and Rita climbed out of the car. “I’m afraid she’s not going to be able to make the grand entrance she wanted.”

“Are you all right?” Victor asked at once, cursing himself for thinking the worst. Of course Sophie wouldn’t be late without good reason.

“Just help me out someone,” she said, and Victor noticed for the first time how pale she looked, and the pinched look about her lips. She inched towards the open door, and he saw her bandaged ankle.

Before she could even attempt to put any weight on her good leg, Victor scooped her up into his arms, and began to carry her away from the car.

“You can’t do that,” Rita protested as she hurried after him.

“Just watch me,” Victor announced. Sophie clasped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. She felt embarrassed and heartened at the same time, as he carried her all the way to the garden and towards the bower. Her eye-lids fluttered open of their own accord when she heard clapping and cheering.

All around her, their family and friends had stood and were welcoming her with a chorus of applause. When they reached the celebrant, Victor didn’t let Sophie go until Allan hurried forward with a chair.

“No I want to stand,” Sophie said.
“Are you sure?” Victor asked, still holding her in his arms against his broad chest.
“Just put me down, will you,” she murmured against his ear.

Victor let her slide her legs down the side of his body, where she teetered for a moment on her good leg. She tested the other one, realising she could at least stand on it, if not walk at the moment.

She nodded to him, but continued to hold onto his arm. She still felt a bit giddy, and wasn’t sure if she might just fall over from the sheer drama of it all.

Sophie felt the tension ebb from Victor the moment they were pronounced husband and wife. He pulled her in close and kissed her with such fierce passion, it left her breathless.

No matter how many times he’d kissed her over the past nine months, or how many times they had made love, it always felt like this, exhilarating, intoxicating and oh so heavenly, just like it had in the dreams that had created Adrian. Somehow she suspected it always would.

When the kiss finally ended, Victor lifted Sophie back into his arms and carried her into the cheering and clapping crowd, where everyone else could share his deep and profound happiness.

He’d gotten married at last, to the most tender and loving woman in the world. Victor didn’t stop smiling for hours afterwards, revelling in the overwhelming joy his beautiful dream lover had brought into his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

Duncan was dreaming. He was lying in bed beside the woman who had caused all the fuss in Sophie’s hospital room all those months ago. Although not beautiful, and a bit too plump for his liking, she really seemed to know how to make a man feel good.

Slowly, sensuously, she slid his clothes from him and kissed each new part of skin she revealed, seeming to enjoy touching him as much as he revelled in what she was doing to him.

It felt fantastic being on the receiving end of such tantalising torment. He’d never been able to just lie back and enjoy making love.

Finally when he could stand her caresses and kisses no longer, he rolled on top of her, and plunged deep into her welcoming folds, making her moan in abject delight.

As his own release approached, he wondered if he should perhaps pay Sophie’s old workplace a visit and look this woman up so he could make this dream a reality.

 

 

If you enjoyed The Dream Spell by Emma Daniels, you might also like Heartbreak Highway.

 

Everyone warned Emma Taylor about Dean Price, the bad boy of the south coat. Even his own family don't trust him, but Emma can't help falling in love with her best friend's handsome and way too charming older brother, so when Dean breaks her heart, she knows she only has herself to blame. Only days later her grandmother, and only living relative, dies after a long illness, and Emma decides there is nothing to bind her to her home town anymore, so she moves away and makes a new life for herself in the city.

Eight years later Emma has a new man in her life, a single parent like herself. Not until she accepts a temporary job on Lord Howe Island where her 7 year old son Adam can escape the big city bullies, does her past, and Dean catch up with her.
Tormented with guilt over the way he treated Emma, Dean has spent the past eight years searching for her to try and make things right, but Emma won't forgive him, not until she finds out what really happened to Dean after that dreadful night.

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