But the conversation topic changes and before I know it, I find that I have made a new friend and we have chatted until well past midnight. After I have finished six breadsticks and we have split two bottles of wine, I finally have to insist that I am going home. I promise Marianne that I will be back very soon and she promises me that she will come by the cottage with the library board meeting schedule.
The trail home is dark and breezy and I ride quickly. It feels eerie out here in the dark, borderline spooky, although I don’t know why. I almost miss the trail that leads back up to the road, but I see it just in time and make my way back to my little cottage.
And even though I had slept all day, I find that I am still tired enough to sleep. In an effort to thwart a little of my jet-lag, however, I decide that I should stay up for a little while longer, just to make sure that I sleep through the night. I’ve got to get my body back in sync with the clock.
So, I try to stay awake and read, but my thoughts keep drifting to Luca Minaldi.
I truly have never met someone like him before and so I can’t shake the thoughts that keep passing through my mind. The dark, dark energy that seemed to surround him, commanding the room. The way his thigh seemed so strong when it brushed against mine, the way the muscle moved in his arm, the way he seemed so lithe and powerful. I could practically see the individual muscles rippling in his shoulders through his shirt as he bent outside of my house. It was apparent that he is very, very fit. His stomach is rock hard, perfectly flat. As I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands across that flat expanse of muscle, my breath quickens at the thought.
His face was so, so handsome and the way the moonlight slanted against it only enhanced that and made him seem even more mysterious. Even now, the mere memory of it, of him, stirs fluttery feelings in my belly. I place my hand there, as if to suppress those stirrings, but the feeling of my fingers on my bare skin gives me a better idea.
I slide my hand downward.
In my head, my hand transforms into Luca’s, sliding down my stomach, then along my leg, whispering into my ear as his fingers grasp the tender flesh of my inner thigh.
Eva, you are so beautiful. Let me touch you.
His hand continues moving, until it glides to a stop when he reaches there, a place that hasn’t been touched in far too long.
The breath catches in my throat as his fingers gently massage the most sensitive part of me. He moves in a circle, his fingers as skilled as I thought they would be.
He looks into my eyes and his are as black and dangerous as they were last night. His body is na**d and hard as it slides against mine.
I want you, Eva. His lips are perfect and full as they mouth the words to me. I nod, giving my consent and he slips his fingers into me, moving them at just the right speed. He moves faster just when I need him to, and I hold my breath and close my eyes, picturing his other hand cupping my breast before he bends his dark head and sucks my nipple.
It is my undoing and my head throws back as I come against my own fingers.
I fall limply back against my pillows and calm my ragged breathing.
As I do, I remind myself that this was just a fantasy. A far-fetched fantasy, at that. Luca wouldn’t even call me Eva…because we aren’t yet friends. I roll my eyes in the dark and curl onto my side. I don’t know why he has fascinated me to the point of sexual fantasy. There’s no way he would be in my bed. Even still, the last things I think about before I sleep are Luca’s strong hands and his dark and mysterious eyes.
Chapter Four
Luca
I see her.
I know I am dreaming, but it is as real as anything I’ve ever seen. She’s standing in front of me, her red hair gleaming in the moonlight. She turns her face and her skin is creamy white in the dark. She seems too beautiful to be real, ethereal almost. I take a step toward her and then stop.
Because I know I must.
Her intriguing eyes, not quite gray but not quite green, stare into mine and I can’t help but to walk toward her. She’s drawing me to her and she’s doing it on purpose. She senses the danger, I can tell. But she doesn’t care. I swallow hard. If she doesn’t care, it makes it more difficult for me to do so.
“Luca, it’s okay. Come to me,” she pleads.
I know better, but I go anyway.
I touch her hand and she grabs mine, pulling me to her with desperation and need. She clutches my hair, covering my mouth with hers until we are kissing in a way that should light the nearby shrubbery on fire. She tastes like wine and her lips are full and swollen. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She rocks against me, and I am instantly hard. She slides against my body, pushing ever closer. I press my erection against her, nudging it firmly between her thighs. She smiles knowingly, her lips moving against my neck, as she grabs my hand and places it directly between her thighs. She is wet. She wants me.
And I want her.
She knows that I want her.
“Fuck me, Luca,” she whispers, as her eyes meet mine.
I start to pull her closer to me, to pull her clothing off of her body, when her eyes widen as she stares at something behind me.
And then she begins to scream.
Her scream is terrified and horrified and the breath lodges in my throat. I am frozen and I don’t want to look.
But I do.
I turn, hesitant because I am afraid of what I will find. And it is worse than I feared.
Stacks of bodies, of bloodied and bruised women, are piled behind me on the darkened beach and I clench my jaw in horror. I know I did that. I hurt them. But I don’t remember any of it. And that is the worst nightmare of all.
She is staring at me in horror as she backs away, her eyes condemning me for being what I am.
A monster.
And then I’m awake.
I sit straight up in my bed and my sheets are damp from a terror-induced sweat. My fingers are curled around my pillow, clutching it for dear life. This is a familiar dream. I dream it often, almost every night, which is one of the reasons that I dread the night. Tonight, however, there was an addition to my dream.
Her.
Evangeline.
Her name is soft on my tongue and I say it aloud, quietly in the darkness of my suite. Shadows fall around me, against my walls and my bed, but that is fine. I enjoy it that way. I belong in them. I have known that since I was small and as long as I am awake, I feel comfortable there.