Christina's Tapestry (2 page)

Suddenly it was hard to breathe. She began to tremble, a quiver that began low in her belly and spread to her entire body. Her breasts seemed to swell and she could feel her nipples pucker and push against the soft cotton cups of her bra. The slight abrasion almost made her cry out and she swallowed back a moan of pleasure. She felt strangely aroused as she stood there staring at the two men in the tapestry. An ache grew between her thighs, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, and moisture seeped from her core, dampening the crotch of her panties.

“How much?” The sound of her own voice surprised her. It was low and sultry, like some sexy siren, not her usual no-nonsense tone.

“Twenty-two hundred dollars.”

Christina’s heart sank at the cost and reality crashed back down on her. She was a secretary in the accounting department of a large corporation and although she made a decent living, it cost a lot to live in the city. Swallowing hard, she turned to the woman who was waiting patiently for her to make up her mind.

“Is that your best price?” She was instantly appalled at herself. She’d never bargained for anything in her adult life. She’d grown up poor, buying from thrift stores her entire childhood, and she’d promised herself that when she started working she’d never have to grovel for anything again. But pride suddenly didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was owning this tapestry.

Even as she felt the heat climbing up her cheeks, Christina watched the other woman shake her head, her green eyes filling with regretfully. “I’m sorry dear, but I just put that piece out tonight. I was actually going to ask twenty-five hundred for it, but you seemed to want it so badly.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from crying as a feeling of shame crept over her. She felt twice as bad about asking for a discount now. The only sensible thing she could do now would be to say thank you and leave. Instead, when she opened her mouth to thank the proprietor of the store, all her good intentions vanished. “How about 10

Christina’s Tapestry

seventeen hundred?” The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Part of her wanted to call her words back. Instead, she held her breath and hoped. As if sensing a sale, the older lady countered quickly. “Two thousand.” Holding her hand up before Christina could speak, she added softly, “That’s my final offer.”

Quickly, Christina made a mental inventory of the money she had in her bank account. It would wipe out her entire savings, but she could swing it if she was really frugal for a couple of months.

Without allowing any time to talk herself out of it, she whipped out her wallet and extracted her bankcard from it. “Sold.”

The wrinkles around the older woman’s face deepened as she smiled. “It’s perfect for you, my dear.” Bustling around, she quickly rang up the sale before Christina could change her mind. Then carefully wrapped the tapestry in tissue paper before placing it in a plastic bag for safe and easy transport.

Ignoring the sharp pain in her head and the nausea churning in her gut, she ruthlessly wiped out her savings to pay for the piece of woven fabric. Clutching the package in her hands, she swallowed hard as she headed back to the front door of the shop.

Just before the door closed behind her, she heard the other woman’s voice. “You won’t regret it.”

Christina stopped suddenly and turned back, tempted to return the tapestry and forget the whole thing, but it was already too late. The door was closed and locked, the lights already out. She squinted and peered through the glass, but couldn’t see the woman anywhere inside.

The plastic-wrapped package seemed to grow heavier in her arms as she stared in the window. The rain was still coming down hard. The cold drops falling on her face shook her out of her stupor. Sheltering the package as best she could, she turned and left the store behind her, racing towards the lights of the subway station. 11

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Scurrying down the stairs, she made the platform just as the train arrived. Hurrying on, she sighed with relief when the doors closed behind her. Other people like herself were heading home after the long workday. She eased into a vacant seat by the door and wrapped her arms around the package that sat in her lap, letting the rhythm of the train soothe her shattered nerves.

Home. Everything would be fine as soon as she got home.

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Chapter Two

Christina leaned back against the door and heaved a sigh of relief. Reaching out, she flicked a switch and a dim light filled the room. The apartment was small and cramped, but it was hers and it was home.

She laid her purse and her precious bundle on the floor beside her loveseat before taking off her wet coat and hanging it on a coat hook just behind the front door. Pulling off her boots one at a time, she set them aside before bolting all the locks on the door. The apartment was cold as she kept the heat turned off when she was at work in order to save money. Shivering slightly, she grabbed her parcel and hurried into the miniscule bedroom. It was barely big enough for a single bed, a bedside table, and a small chest of drawers.

She closed the door behind her, a habit left over from her childhood when she was being shuffled from home to home in foster care. Privacy had been hard to come by and she’d quickly learned that a closed door was sometimes the best she could hope for. As an adult, even though she lived alone, she’d never felt comfortable sleeping in her room without the door closed. Quickly, she switched on the small bedside lamp and cranked up the heater.

Carefully, she laid the package on the bed and wiped her sweaty palms on her damp skirt. Taking a deep breath, she slowly unwrapped it, tossing the plastic and wrapping behind her. She unrolled the tapestry, an inch at a time, until it was spread across her bed.

The warmth filling her had little to do with the tiny bit of heat being pushed out by the radiator. A nervous giggle escaped her, surprising her. She was glad that she’d bought the tapestry. It felt right and made her happy.

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Flinging out her arms, she spun in a circle, her long braid whipping around as she turned. Droplets of water flew out around her and she stopped suddenly, afraid she would get the beautiful fabric wet.

Still smiling, she hurried into the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom, stripped off her wet clothing and unbraided her long, damp hair. Christina longed for a hot soak in a tub, but her apartment only had a very cramped shower. Experience had taught her that there was just enough hot water for her to wash and rinse quickly. Turning on the water, she adjusted the spray and squeezed into the shower stall.

By the time she’d rinsed the shampoo from her hair, the water was already lukewarm. Turning off the taps, she wrung out her hair and wrapped a towel around it. Grabbing another towel, she dried off and wrapped it around her body. As much as she wanted to run back into the bedroom with her tapestry, she knew she had to dry her hair before she went to bed.

Unwinding the towel from around her head, she shook out her damp hair. It was her one and only vanity. Perfectly straight, it fell past her waist and was so blonde it was almost white, a gift from her Nordic ancestors and a mother whom she barely remembered. Bending at the waist, she flipped her hair over, picked up the hairdryer and turned it on low.

When the mass was dry, she carefully combed out the tangles before standing back straight and flipping her hair over her shoulder. With long-practiced ease, she picked up her brush and smoothed out her hair. Reaching behind her head, she separated it into three strands and began to plait her hair. When the braid was partly done, she pulled it over her shoulder and continued working on it until she’d created a long, blonde rope.

As she secured the ends in a ponytail holder, she gazed into the mirror that hung over the vanity and appraised her features. Pale was the best word to describe herself. 14

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With her light cornflower blue eyes, white skin, and light blonde hair, Christina had always found it easy to disappear into her surroundings. As a shy, slightly overweight child, she’d found it easy to keep to herself as she was shuffled through the foster-care system after her parents were killed in a car accident. Unfortunately, she’d continued doing the same thing as an adult and as a result, she was twenty-eight years old, a solid size fourteen, and Brenda was the only friend she had.

Shaking off her momentary melancholy, she hung up the damp towels and hurried back into her bedroom. She was digging through her dresser drawer for a warm nightgown when her hand hit something soft and silky. Pulling it out of the drawer, she shook out the rich fabric. Brenda had given her the long, slinky nightgown for her last birthday, teasing her that she needed something special for when she got a boyfriend. Christina had buried it in the bottom of her dresser drawer and forgotten about it. But tonight seemed like the perfect night to wear such a silky confection. Drawing it over her head, she let the lavender-colored fabric slide down her body in a sensual caress. The shoulder straps were about an inch wide and the front dipped down in a low v-neck. Luckily, there was elastic running under the chest area that created a builtin bra and helped support her large breasts. Her nipples puckered as the fabric slid across them. Christina clamped her legs tight together as the ache between her legs began to throb once again. It surprised her just how sensual she felt wearing the sexy nightgown instead of her regular thick flannel one. The fabric gently skimmed her sides before coming to a stop about an inch from the floor.

Goose bumps covered her arms and she rubbed them to try and warm herself. She yanked open the drawer again to pull out a sensible nightgown, but slammed it shut again. She was tired of being sensible. The thin silky one felt good against her skin and made her feel pretty.

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Pulling back the covers on her bed, she climbed beneath the small mound of blankets and pulled the tapestry onto her lap, turning it so that it was facing her. Almost afraid to touch the beautiful design in the center of the piece, she reached out her finger and gently traced the features of each of the warriors who stood proud and tall. A low groaning noise echoed through the room, sounding just like a sigh of masculine pleasure.

Christina jerked her hand back and looked wildly around the room. Of course there was no one there. She was alone. She gave a nervous laugh as she shook her head at her own flights of fancy. It must have been the heater making that strange noise or possibly the wind against the window.

She was just tired after such a long, hectic week at work. Between that and her impulsive behavior this evening, it was no wonder she was feeling out of sorts. After a nice long weekend of rest, she’d be back to her normal practical self. Burrowing under the covers, she reached out and smoothed the lush fabric of the tapestry with her hand. She knew she should put such a valuable tapestry somewhere safe, but she wanted it with her as she slept. For some reason, she felt comforted and safe with it draped over her.

“It’s mine and I’ll do whatever I want with it.” She spoke aloud to the room as if daring it to object. Feeling silly, she turned off the lights and pulled the covers tight under her chin. Shivering slightly she curled her legs up tight to her body. Leaving one hand on top of the tapestry, she continued to stroke it until she drifted off to sleep…

It was dark when she woke. Very dark. That was unusual as the lights of the city usually
bathed her room in a faint light. Frowning, she pushed the covers away and sat up in bed. Her
fingers lingered on the bedclothes, feeling their strange texture. It took her a second to realize
that it wasn’t her wool blankets she was touching, but rather, fur.
Squinting, she glanced around, taking in as much of her surroundings as she could see.
Curtains hung from two sides of the bed, obscuring most of the room from her view. But there
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was no doubt that she definitely wasn’t in her own bed. This bed seemed huge and she could
make out large wooden posts at the foot of it. There was no curtain across the foot of the bed and
she could see that the walls of her own room had been replaced by stone ones. A low fire in the
fireplace on the other side of the room gave the only illumination.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t afraid or disconcerted by her discovery. This room was exactly as
she imagined a room from the castle on the tapestry would look like. She almost laughed at the
pleasure that thought gave her. She felt safer and more at home here than she did in her own
apartment.

Her laughter faded as she reasoned that this had to be nothing more than a dream, brought
on by her purchase of the tapestry. Nothing else could explain her strange surroundings.
Sighing, she lay back on the bed and waited to wake up. A rustling to her right made her
gasp and she scooted to the left. She hit a large barrier and could go no further.
A large muscled arm wrapped around her and dragged her up against a very huge chest.
Definitely male. And since this was only a dream, she assumed that it was one of the warriors
from the tapestry. It felt strange to have a man’s arm resting across her stomach. It made her
breasts tingle.

As if he knew what she’d been thinking, his hand slid slowly up her stomach until he was
cupping one of her breasts. She didn’t protest, not wanting to speak and risk waking herself just
when her dream was getting good. She’d heard about people having erotic dreams. Brenda had
them all the time. But she’d never had one.

Christina was unable to suppress the moan that tumbled from her lips when he languidly
rubbed her turgid nipple with his thumb. The movement of his thumb over the fabric of her
nightgown was incredibly arousing. She could feel the moisture pooling between her legs as they
moved restlessly across the mattress.