could still remember what she wore that night, a pale blue gown, feathery light. He’d been riding the rush of a recent mission, adrenaline making him ache all the more for his wife. The moment he’d seen her walk out of their bedroom wearing the dress, he’d known he wouldn’t rest until he found out what she had on underneath.
Before Act One was complete, he’d known....
* * *
Dreams of Conrad during that hazy realm of twilight sleep always tormented her the most. Fantasy and reality blended until she didn’t know whether to force herself awake or cling to sleep longer.
La Bohème echoed through her mind, the opening act, except that didn’t make sense because she was in Africa with Conrad. So why was the opera playing out on a barge on the river? Confusion threatened to pull her awake. Until the glide of Conrad’s hands over her breasts made her cling to the dream realm where she could sit with her husband on the porch and listen.
Savor.
His hands slid down her stomach to her leg. With skillful fingers he bunched her gauzy blue evening gown up, up, up her leg until his hand tunneled underneath. She felt his frown and realized she had jeans on underneath her formal dress?
Confusion churned in her brain as she stared down at her bare feet and well-worn denim. She kicked at the hem of her gown, frustrated, needing to free herself of the voluminous folds so she could wear her jeans.
And so she could feel Conrad’s touch.
The roar of frustration grew louder, and louder still until the porch disintegrated from the vibrations. She stood in the rubble, a herd of elephants kicking up dust on the horizon.
Her bare feet pedaled against the covers. She fought harder, frantic to wake herself up and outrun the beasts chasing through her head. Elephants thundered behind her, rumbling the ground along with an orchestra segueing into the closing act. Her chest hurt, and she gasped for air.
She tripped over the gnarled roots of a mango tree. Her hands slapped the ground, but it gave way, plunging her into the Mediterranean Sea outside Conrad’s casino. The farther she sank, the darker the waters became until she hit bottom.
Sealed in a panic room.
A window cleared along the top and she looked up, searching for a way out. Desperation squeezed the air from her lungs. Conrad stood on the balcony far, far above, watching her, drinking his Chivas. She couldn’t reach him, and he couldn’t hear her choked cries of warning to watch out for the thundering herd.
Wasn’t a guy always supposed to hear his mermaid call him?
Except she wasn’t the one in danger.
His balcony filled with thick, noxious smoke until Conrad disappeared...
Jayne sat up sharply.
Wide-awake, she blinked in the dark, unfamiliar room. Gauzy mosquito netting trailed from all four corners of the canopy. Just a dream, she reminded herself. Not real.
Well, the charging elephants weren’t real, but the panic room was very real, along with a looming threat.
Fear for Conrad still covered her like a thick blanket on a muggy day. She’d put him in danger just by being with him. A crummy way to pay him back for all the years he’d tried to keep her safe from a dangerous job. Now that she was past some of the worst feelings of betrayal, she could feel the inevitable admiration beneath it. He was a good man, and she—unknowingly—had been his Achilles’ heel.
That hurt her to think about. She had so many regrets about her marriage, and their future had never been more complicated. Her body burned for his touch.
With the pain of losing him still so fresh in her mind, she knew without question, she had to be with him tonight.
* * *
Conrad stared at the ceiling fan swirling around and around, the click so quiet he knew that couldn’t have woken him.
So what had?
The alarms were set. He’d cracked the door to Jayne’s room. No one would get in without him knowing, and Jayne wouldn’t so much as sneeze without him hearing.
Muffled cries? He’d
Before Act One was complete, he’d known....
* * *
Dreams of Conrad during that hazy realm of twilight sleep always tormented her the most. Fantasy and reality blended until she didn’t know whether to force herself awake or cling to sleep longer.
La Bohème echoed through her mind, the opening act, except that didn’t make sense because she was in Africa with Conrad. So why was the opera playing out on a barge on the river? Confusion threatened to pull her awake. Until the glide of Conrad’s hands over her breasts made her cling to the dream realm where she could sit with her husband on the porch and listen.
Savor.
His hands slid down her stomach to her leg. With skillful fingers he bunched her gauzy blue evening gown up, up, up her leg until his hand tunneled underneath. She felt his frown and realized she had jeans on underneath her formal dress?
Confusion churned in her brain as she stared down at her bare feet and well-worn denim. She kicked at the hem of her gown, frustrated, needing to free herself of the voluminous folds so she could wear her jeans.
And so she could feel Conrad’s touch.
The roar of frustration grew louder, and louder still until the porch disintegrated from the vibrations. She stood in the rubble, a herd of elephants kicking up dust on the horizon.
Her bare feet pedaled against the covers. She fought harder, frantic to wake herself up and outrun the beasts chasing through her head. Elephants thundered behind her, rumbling the ground along with an orchestra segueing into the closing act. Her chest hurt, and she gasped for air.
She tripped over the gnarled roots of a mango tree. Her hands slapped the ground, but it gave way, plunging her into the Mediterranean Sea outside Conrad’s casino. The farther she sank, the darker the waters became until she hit bottom.
Sealed in a panic room.
A window cleared along the top and she looked up, searching for a way out. Desperation squeezed the air from her lungs. Conrad stood on the balcony far, far above, watching her, drinking his Chivas. She couldn’t reach him, and he couldn’t hear her choked cries of warning to watch out for the thundering herd.
Wasn’t a guy always supposed to hear his mermaid call him?
Except she wasn’t the one in danger.
His balcony filled with thick, noxious smoke until Conrad disappeared...
Jayne sat up sharply.
Wide-awake, she blinked in the dark, unfamiliar room. Gauzy mosquito netting trailed from all four corners of the canopy. Just a dream, she reminded herself. Not real.
Well, the charging elephants weren’t real, but the panic room was very real, along with a looming threat.
Fear for Conrad still covered her like a thick blanket on a muggy day. She’d put him in danger just by being with him. A crummy way to pay him back for all the years he’d tried to keep her safe from a dangerous job. Now that she was past some of the worst feelings of betrayal, she could feel the inevitable admiration beneath it. He was a good man, and she—unknowingly—had been his Achilles’ heel.
That hurt her to think about. She had so many regrets about her marriage, and their future had never been more complicated. Her body burned for his touch.
With the pain of losing him still so fresh in her mind, she knew without question, she had to be with him tonight.
* * *
Conrad stared at the ceiling fan swirling around and around, the click so quiet he knew that couldn’t have woken him.
So what had?
The alarms were set. He’d cracked the door to Jayne’s room. No one would get in without him knowing, and Jayne wouldn’t so much as sneeze without him hearing.
Muffled cries? He’d
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