Diamonds and Toads: A Modern Fairy Tale (9 page)

This is not happening.
He scrubbed his
eyes and opened them again, but she was still there.
Okay, this
is a dream
.
I’m dreaming
.
Dreaming is good
. His
heart rate calmed.
This, I can handle.

Now that he knew what was going on, he
decided to kick back and enjoy the ride. “Hey, Marilyn,” he said,
sauntering back to the end table and placing the candlestick there.
“What’s up?”

She smiled and patted the sofa cushion next
to her.

He shrugged and plopped down. This was
actually kind of fun. “Who was better in the sack, anyway, Robbie
or Johnny-boy?” Hey, it was his dream, might as well see what his
subconscious came up with. He twisted around and grabbed a pillow
for his back.

“Listen close-ly, my fine gen-tle-man, I’ve
got some-thing impor-tant to tell you.”

The voice had changed, become angry and
sinister. He swiveled his head to look. Okay, the dream was turning
weird. Now the Wicked Witch of the West sat next to him. Green
face, long crooked nose, ugly yellow teeth. He scooted over several
inches.

“I’m giv-ing you a choice and what-ever
choice you make will de-cide your des-tiny.”

That sounded ominous.
This is just a
dream, remember.
“Yeah, okay.”

Before his eyes, the witch morphed into a
beautiful woman, a stranger to him, and one that was dressed in a
clothing style reminiscent of Shakespeare plays and fairy tales.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked.

His heart pounded, his palms began to sweat.
Yes, he was afraid he did. “Delilah’s fairy?” His voice came out
higher pitched than normal.

“Ahh, right on the—” she tapped his nose with
her long-nailed finger. “Now, here is your choice. You can have
Delilah or her fortune, but not both. You will have until midnight
tomorrow—the night of your gala—to make your choice. I must warn
you, however, that once the choice is made, there is no turning
back from it.”

“So the money really is charmed? It’s going
to disappear if I use it, like Delilah said?”

“Not necessarily, it depends on the choice
you make.”

All he could do was gape at her and shake his
head. “This is not happening.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Yes,
dear, yes it is.” She leaned toward him and whispered. “And since
you amuse me, I’ll give you a little hint: If you make the right
choice, I’ll see you again in twenty or so years.” She patted him
on the knee and with a couple of snaps of her fingers, disappeared
in another puff of purple mist.

Chas sat on the couch for a full ten minutes,
too numb to move. When he thought his legs could hold him, he got
up and walked back to his bedroom. The time on the clock registered
the same time as it had before. Surely he’d been dreaming. And to
prove it, he was going back to bed right now and let the alarm
clock wake him in two more hours.

It was in that twilight between wake and
sleep that he heard the fairy whisper: “Make the right choice and
you’ll reap more than you ever dreamed possible. Make the wrong
one, and you’ll live with the regret of it unto your dying
day.”

* * *

“Keeping the vultures at bay?” Chas’s father
said a few hours later as he walked into Chas’s office and headed
straight for the sofa, reclining on it as if he were about to have
a free association session with Sigmund Freud.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that
very thing. There’s a chance I may lose the company, Dad.”

He sat up and leaned toward Chas with his
arms on his knees. “What? You? I don’t believe it. That’s why I
asked you to come back last year. If anyone can save it, you can.
What about the loan from Delilah?”

Chas would have loved to spill his guts about
the fairy, the choice, the charmed money, but he knew he’d get the
same reaction from his father that Chas himself had given Delilah
the night before. He wanted to save the company—he did. But the
thought of losing Delilah caused such an ache inside him, he
couldn’t breathe. “It may not come through.”

His father dropped his head. “It’s all my
fault. I made investments that I should have known were too
risky—and would have, if my mind had been on business and not on
your mother’s health.” Looking directly at Chas again, he said, “I
can’t lose this company, son. Not after losing your mother, too.
It’d be too much. Do whatever you have to do, but get it on its
feet again.”

Well, that was that. Chas flipped his pen
from end to end on his desk several times. “Dad, can I ask you
something?”

“Shoot.”

“If you had been given a choice between this
company and Mom, which would you have chosen?”

“No brainer. Your mother, of course.”

“Why?”

His father chuckled, clearly thinking Chas
was razzing him.

“I’m serious.”

His father’s face sobered. “She was the love
of my life. She made every part of it richer, more fulfilling. Even
though I love this company with every fiber of my being, it can’t
keep me warm at night. It doesn’t worry when I’m late coming home,
it doesn’t nurse me when I’m sick or tired to the bone, or both.
Your mother did all those things and more.” He pointed a finger at
him. “I think your little Delilah’s going to be the same for you.
You finally backed a winner in her, son.”

Chas smiled, but didn’t meet his father’s
eyes. “Yeah, I did. I’m lucky.”

“So you do love her then? It wasn’t just the
money that got you interested? I did wonder.”

He met his father’s gaze. “Yes, I love
her.”

“I can’t say I’m not relieved.”

“Mmm.” A sharp poignancy of love found and
lost clutched at his heart. Well, if he was going to say goodbye to
her, he’d at least leave her with a token of his esteem. “Dad, I
think it’s time for you to hand over Mom’s ring. Will you bring it
to the gala with you tomorrow night?”

His Dad hooted. “Finally. Now I know you’re
serious. Yes, I’ll bring it.”

The ring was a family heirloom on his
mother’s side. A five-carat cushion shaped yellow diamond, brought
from Africa by his great-great-grandfather for his bride-to-be. The
gem was surrounded by colorless diamonds and set in gold that had
been mined directly from one of the man’s own quarries. It had been
handed down from first son to first son until his mother, whose own
mother had had only daughters, preserved the tradition through the
female line. But now it was Chas’s turn and he only hoped that his
mother would understand. She’d sternly told him when she’d given it
to him that day after her last round of radiation that he was not,
under any circumstances, to give it to one of his “fiancées of
convenience,” that he was only to give it to someone he truly could
not imagine a life without. He thought she might understand,
knowing the circumstances and the depth of feeling he held for
Delilah. He prayed she would understand.

* * *

The wire would be sent to Zurich on Monday.
Delilah offered to transfer the funds today, but he put her off,
telling her that Monday was soon enough. He couldn’t force himself
to finalize his choice. Not yet. Not when there was still a little
time to maybe—just maybe—sell his thoroughbred, if fortune shined
on him.

The two-year-old filly was the last piece of
property he owned that could be liquidated for enough funds without
sending out a town crier blasting the fact that their business was
in trouble. That’s why he hadn’t put their family home or his
hi-rise on the chopping block. It would have raised too many
eyebrows and subtlety was vital.

Unfortunately, the prospective buyer for his
thoroughbred had been dragging her feet for months and Chas wasn’t
about to sell Blue Lightnin’ for a song, nor would he sell her to
just anyone, no matter what the outcome. The filly meant too much
to him. She’d been a gift from his mother just before her
diagnosis, when his world still looked rosy and his future still
looked bright.

The filly had never raced but was descended
from two Kentucky Derby winners, and she could run an eighth of a
mile in under ten seconds. She was worth every penny he was asking
for her. If only the interested party would come through for him,
Chas could save his company and keep Delilah in the bargain. For
Delilah, he’d sell ten such thoroughbreds.

* * *

Even if it did mean he was the lousiest,
lowest form of bottom feeder ever to enter the food chain, Chas
knocked on Delilah’s door that evening. Wine bottle in one hand,
bouquet in the other, he intended to make love to her all night,
despite knowing there was more than a good chance he’d be breaking
their engagement tomorrow before midnight.

He’d tried all afternoon and into the evening
to get hold of the woman interested in his filly, but hadn’t
received a return call. Chas still had most of tomorrow to get a
line in to her, though he wasn’t holding out a lot of hope at this
point.

He just couldn’t say goodbye to Delilah yet.
Not yet.

The door swung open. “Hi Cha—”

He swept her into his embrace, kissing her
hungrily on her mouth. Dropping the flowers, he moved across the
threshold and into the foyer.

“Mmm…I missed you, too,” she murmured against
his lips, amusement ripe in her tone. Melting against him, she
slung her arms around his neck, raking her fingers through his hair
as she melded her mouth to his once more.

The bottle of wine teetered, but didn’t fall
from the entryway table, when he set it there. “I want you.”

She smiled against his mouth. “Sounds good.
But what about dinner?”

He sucked on her lower lip. “Later.”

Throwing her head back and flinging her arms
wide, she went limp in his embrace. “Take me, I’m yours.”

“Yes.”
You are.

He carried her into her bedroom like some
caveman out of a B-movie, dropped her on the bed with her legs
sprawled off the edge, and stepped between them. He’d never done
anything like it in his life before—was, on some other, distant
level, surprised and a little appalled at himself—but was so hot
for her, he hadn’t the will to change his course. He unzipped his
pants and shoved the open fly of his boxers aside, setting his
eager cock free. “I need to be inside you Dee.”

“I need that, too.”

She sat up, unbuttoning her blouse, but he
pressed her back. “Too time consuming.” When she grinned and gave
him a nod of pure-devil understanding, he pushed her skirt up over
her hips, lifted her legs over his shoulders, and pulled aside the
crotch of her silk panties. He slid into her in one long,
gratifying stroke, their surprised gasps mingling in the hushed
room.

In the next instant, they were moving in
perfect time together, writhing and straining, breaths coming fast
and feverish, bodies striving toward release. The pleasure nearly
killed him. “Oh, God, Dee. Oh, God.” Somewhere, in the back of his
mind, he knew he sounded like an imbecile, but poetic, sexy words
were beyond him at that point.

Suddenly, her eyes flew wide and she cried
out, arching high beneath him, her thighs quivering, a wave of rose
glow rushing over her face and neck, as her canal convulsed around
him. Pinpricks of light danced in his vision, the pace and depth of
his strokes increasing of their own volition. His head rolled back
on his shoulders as an involuntary roar burst from his lips and hot
cum exploded from the very core of him.

When his head stopped spinning enough to risk
movement, he leaned down and kissed her drowsy eyelids and soft,
warm mouth. “Let’s get more comfortable,” he said and slowly slid
out of her. She murmured in protest, but was clearly still under
afterglow’s spell, because she didn’t say a word, barely even
opened her eyes, while he helped her reposition herself on the
mattress. He rolled her on her side and lay down beside her so that
they spooned.

He held her like that for a good long time,
content to be near her, smelling the floral fragrance of her hair,
the heady scent of her feminine skin, and watching the sun’s last
rays move across the room, leaving quiet shadows in their wake.

“Do you think our children will have black
hair or blond?” she asked out of the blue.

The question roused him from the twilight
he’d fallen into and immediately put a vise grip around his heart.
A child with Delilah. God, he wanted that. He rolled away from her
slightly and looked up at the ceiling with one arm still tucked
under her head. “I—” his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat.
“I don’t know. It would be nice to have one of each, I guess.” He
felt her grin against his arm.

“Yeah. I like that,” she said, rolling over
to face him and scooting closer so that she could use his shoulder
as a pillow. “We’re going to have a wonderful life together,” she
said, running her hand over his chest.

He leaned down and kissed her, taking her
hand in his. “Yes, we are.”
If I can sell the thoroughbred.
The diamond in her engagement ring grazed his palm and he loosened
his grip. As he continued to kiss her, he thought of the ring he
wanted to give her instead and he wondered abstractedly if he
shouldn’t have brought it over to her tonight. No, better to give
it to her tomorrow night, after he explained about the fairy, and
the choice she’d given him to make. Explained how he’d had to
choose his father’s happiness over his own. She’d understand his
choice, Chas had no doubt about that. Her generosity and big, open
heart were a significant part of why Chas had fallen in love with
her in the first place.

She murmured and rolled onto her back,
bringing him with her. “Ready for another session with Mistress
Domnonea?” she purred, a definite twinkle in her eye.

He grinned. “Uh huh.” So, okay, the fact that
she had a very sexy dark side only enhanced his feelings. He
allowed his eyes to trail down her clothed body. “But first I want
to strip you naked and love you properly from head to toe.”