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Authors: Eboni Snoe

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Historical, #Contemporary Fiction

Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (13 page)

BOOK: Tell Me I'm Dreamin'
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“Well, that is a shame. We could really use your help around here. At least until after the sale.” Madame Deane removed her napkin from her lap, and began to propel herself toward one of the doors. “I shall see you tomorrow before you leave. I'm sure you are planning to do so tomorrow. I mean, with the roads clear and all?”

“Yes, ma'am, I do.”

“What a shame,” Madame Deane remarked as she disappeared into the next room.

Chapter
10

Nadine wrapped the robe snugly around her before she entered the expansive hallway. This time her bath had been uneventful, if not solemn. Her clash with Ulysses and hearing the horrible events surrounding his childhood had left her feeling numb. It made her realize no matter where she traveled, prejudice and the negative side of human nature would always be a reality. She guessed it was one of man's frailties.

Nadine moved along the lamp-lit corridor deep in thought. As she advanced, a light-headedness overcame her. She stopped to brace herself against the wall to rid herself of the sensation. When Nadine opened her eyes to the hallway ahead, an uncanny metamorphosis had occurred. The walls were now covered with ancient drawings accompanied by strange hieroglyphics, and three people had appeared in the midst of them. Two men were seated at a table made from the same kind of stone as the cliff dwellers' jewelry. It was oddly shaped as if it had been sliced from a larger article similar in form. There was a third person, a woman, standing with her back to the men. Nadine could tell from her stance and the droop of her shoulders, she was feeling heavily burdened. One of the men rose from the table and went to put his hands on the woman's shoulders. He turned her to face the largest drawing on one of the walls, and Nadine's heart began to beat uncontrollably as she looked upon the mirror image of herself being led closer to the etchings. The man was gentle but firm. He pointed out the different images to the woman, underlining the hieroglyphics. Suddenly, all three of the people looked up as a gong sounded in the distance. Almost simultaneously a man's form appeared in a doorway. Nadine could not see him clearly—his face remained hidden in the shadows. As he moved forward two other forms seemed to materialize behind him. Just as their bodies took on definitive shapes, flames ignited in the doorway, engulfing them. Nadine's mirror image screamed and fainted. All of the images faded as Nadine's own scream erupted with no sound, she was so frightened.

Nadine stood rooted to the spot as the hallway dissolved into its natural form. She tried to rationalize what she had just seen. Automatically, she searched for physical evidence to prove that what she had seen had actually occurred. There was none.

“I don't believe this. Oh, God! I must be losing my mind!”

A muffled thud sounded to the left of her, coming from behind a door. Consumed by panic and fear Nadine pushed it open, expecting to see a scene similar to the one she had witnessed only moments before. Instead her astonished brownish-jade gaze landed on a half-dressed Ulysses. He was sitting on his bed with a cumbersome record book at his feet and a startled look on his face. Pages were hanging out of the book, and several were scattered on the floor.

“Did you hear that?” The question was more of a demand as Nadine urged Ulysses to substantiate what she had just experienced.

“Did I hear what?” His voice was skeptical.

“Look, don't mess with me.” She pointed with impatience. “Did you hear the people who were out here in this hallway?” Her voice rose with frustration as she took in his disheveled hair, and noticed the almost-drained glass of rum near his bed.

Ulysses narrowed his eyes as he studied her. He could tell from the look on her face and how large her eyes were she was physically shaken. “No. I did not hear anything.”

“But you had to.” Nadine's chest began to rise and fall visibly beneath the robe. “They were standing near your door. If you didn't hear them talking you had to hear the woman scream before she fainted,” she insisted.

“I tell you I heard nothing.” His tone was aggravatingly calm.

“Look here. I don't know what sort of games you people are playing around here.” She took a step back. “There must have been something in my food,” she said with an air of discovery. She squinted suspiciously before threatening, “Don't make me show you how crazy
I
can act. I can act a fool like you've never seen before if you push me far enough.” She could feel her fingernails pressing into her palms as she clenched her hands into fists.

In silence, Ulysses approached a decanter that sat on top of a large wooden chest. He poured an ample amount of rum into a crystal glass, and offered the drink to Nadine.

She started to refuse it, but her immediate need for calm changed her mind. She belted down the beverage in several quick swallows. Afterwards she thought, This is horrible, and she wondered if grain alcohol or Mad Dog 20/20 could have tasted worse as the liquid burned her throat

Ulysses waited for the brown liquid to cause the inevitable rush. As he expected, seconds later she began to teeter on her feet, reaching out to take hold of anything that would steady her. Ulysses made his arm available, and led her to a divan placed against the bedroom wall. He watched perspiration break out on her forehead while she attempted to cool down by using her palm as a fan.

“Whoa! That's some strong stuff.”

“Yes, it is. And it is even stronger when you drink the entire glass within a moment's time,” Ulysses admonished her.

“If you had seen and heard what I just did, you'd do the same thing.”

“Maybe,” was his only response, giving no indication if he believed her bizarre story or not.

“You said you didn't hear anything, but I tell you I did. Not only did I hear them, I saw two men,” she paused before she continued, “and a woman who looked just like me. But she was dressed differently and speaking a language I couldn't begin to understand. Don't you think that's more than a little strange?”

“Under regular circumstances I would say yes. But maybe not for a woman who I know talks to herself, and to objects that cannot talk back.”

Nadine's anger and frustration increased. Ulysses was not taking anything she said seriously. “So are you suggesting that I made all of this up?”

Ulysses shrugged his broad shoulders.

“And tell me, puh-lease, why would I do that?”

“In order to have an excuse to come into my bedroom without an invitation,” was his quick reply.

His dark gaze trailed down Nadine's robe that had loosened with her not-so-ladylike plop onto the cushioned divan. Ulysses' eyes rested at the top of her smooth, bare thigh where the garment had naturally parted.

Nadine flipped the trailing part of her robe up from the floor and covered her exposed limb.

“Now tell me the truth,” his voice turned threatening, “why did you come in here?”

“I just told you. I heard and saw some really bizarre things a moment—”

“Do you expect me to believe that?” His eyes narrowed. “You should not. I think you had another reason for coming into my room. Did you think you would find out more about the little bronze case if you came in here half-dressed?”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he grabbed her face in his hand, applying pressure to her jaws. “Thinking maybe I would get so excited you could get me to tell you whatever you wanted to know. Is that it?” He tilted her oval face upward, forcing her hazel eyes to look into his. “Or is it just that you could not resist my masculine charms any longer, and you decided to sample them since this is your last night at Sovereign?”

Nadine's face filled with anger. “I have heard it all,” she spat out between clenched teeth. “You must really think a hell of a lot of yourself, and your . . . collection, don't you? Well, I'm sorry to have to be the one to burst your little egotistical bubble, but I want you to know I don't have to use my body to get what I want in life.” She forced his hand down from her face. “And on top of that, I've come across men much more desirable than you, Mr. Deane,” she lied, “and managed to keep myself intact. So believe me when I tell you, I didn't need to make up a ridiculous story to burst into your bedroom to get information from you, or to give up my virginity to a man I don't even like.”

A spark of surprise appeared on his face, then slowly his gaze began to smolder as he raked her up and down insultingly. “You may not like me, Nadine. But I know when a woman wants me. Even if you are too inexperienced to know when you really want a man.” He stood closer to the divan, a harsh chuckle surfacing from within him. “I should have known your display of being a worldly woman was a farce. Here I was thinking the desire I saw in your eyes burned so brightly because you were such a well-experienced woman. But now, I really understand.” He paused to give his words the full effect. “The light was simply the suppressed fires of a reluctant Virgin.”

Ulysses' brash statement cut to the core. Her virginity was a touchy subject that she discussed with no one besides Gloria. Had he said those same words a year ago her reaction would not have been the same. She would have been proud of her virginal status. Only recently had she begun to regret it. Her thoughts seem to focus more and more on how difficult it was to find a good man to love her, and even more difficult a good husband.

“Re-reluctant,” she stammered, embarrassed. “I am not reluctant. At least I wouldn't be with the right man.”

“And so you are telling me you have never come across a man who wanted to make love to you? Or one that you wanted to make love to?”

“I didn't say that.” She looked away from his dark, piercing eyes.

“Well, if that is not true, why have you not tasted the pleasures of love? I can see you are well beyond the age of consent.” He knelt intimidatingly close, his face only inches away. There was a fresh scent of rum on his breath; his eyes were slightly red from the liquor.

“First of all, twenty-six is not well past the age of . . . anything. And I wish you would show me the international law book that says a woman must make love by a certain age. A man and a woman should join together when they really love one another, not just to fulfill some passing desire.”

“But my sweet Nadine, life is far too complicated for that to be the reality. It may be the ideal. But believe me, most idealists end up having their dreams shattered. My parents were idealists. In the end it brought them nothing but pain and sadness. I believe we should all live for the moment.” His thickly lashed gaze bore down on her. “You never know what fate has in store for you.” A brown finger began to trace the neckline of Nadine's terry-cloth robe, stopping at the bottom to rest between her softly bronzed breasts.

“Ulysses . . . look—”

“No. You look.” His voice turned into a silky purr. “Look at how the slightest touch of my hand makes you quiver with anticipation.”

Nadine was praying he would not see the small tremors she was experiencing, but no sooner had he said those words, an even stronger one coursed through her, visible to them both.

“Well, you would be trembling too if you had seen what I just saw,” she countered, trying to keep the breathless tone out of her voice.

“That was over ten minutes ago, and your breasts are rising and falling faster now than they have since you first entered my room. You do want me, Nadine, just as much as I want you. It is just that I am not afraid to face my desire, and to quench it.”

“See? That is the whole problem in a nutshell.” She pressed her back further into the divan, putting as much space between them as she could. “I don't want to be another woman that you add to your list of females who have quenched your desire. If I wanted to be on that kind of list I could have offered myself to any number of brothers on the street back in the United States.” She paused. “Yes, I must admit at first I had decided to let go, and let things just happen naturally. But then I really saw what you were like at the rum still, and heard how the majority of the women were enamored of you, including Melanie. Also there were subtle hints from Catherine and your aunt,” she continued to explain. “Now on top of all that, you kneel here and tell me because of some quirk of fate that refuses to allow life to be a bed of roses for all of us, that I, Nadine Clayton, should take whatever I can get and be happy with it?” Searching hazel eyes looked deeply into the eyes that peered into hers. “I just don't buy that.”

“That is simply the way I see life.” Ulysses' eyelids formed a cynical hood. “I am what I am, Nadine. A product of my experiences, and the world around me. I take what pleasure and momentary happiness that is offered to me, and I expect little else. Are you so much the wiser to look for rainbows and happy endings in a world blanketed with misery and sorrow? I do not think so.”

Nadine could feel the buried hurt and disappointment beneath Ulysses' fatalistic words. She knew all too well how easy it could be to give in to hopelessness and accept whatever life decided to throw your way. She used to see that kind of surrender every day on the faces of the men habitually standing on the corners in the small town that edged Ashland, and in some of the eyes of the inner-city children she taught. Eyes that she felt were too young to have experienced such pain-filled realities.

But Nadine knew there was something different about Ulysses. There was no pain or hurt visible in the black depths that she gazed into now, only acceptance and a hardness that was the support beam for his strange personality. It made Nadine wish that she could be the one to open the way for hope and love in his life.

At that moment Nadine guessed Grandma Rose was right when she called her a rescuer. Grandma always said she had the fortitude and the foolhardiness to look for sunshine even in the darkest hour. Nadine knew for her there could be no other way. She believed the immobility of hopelessness was worse than dying.

BOOK: Tell Me I'm Dreamin'
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