Only in Her Dreams (15 page)

“Lucessa, what’s going on here?”

I don’t have a clue,
she thought. “He’s my husband.”

“I know that much, but what is he doing
here
? I thought he died. That’s why I returned to you.” His reference to his visits in her dreams was new. Their conversations usually shied away from the subject.

“I thought he was dead too.” Tears flowed down her cheeks, emotion spilling over her normally intact composure. “I never looked at the body. The funeral director said two weeks in Customs and the body would be completely unidentifiable. I had a closed casket service. I should’ve viewed his body, I would’ve known it wasn’t him. I could’ve looked for him.”

Her body trembled and she attempted to still her shaking hands.

He took the two steps toward her and wrapped her in a hug. “This isn’t your fault.” His embrace was firm yet comforting.
He knows me so completely.

“You did what any grieving person would do,” he continued. “You honored his memory by not seeing him in that condition. He’s had a year to contact you. A phone call or a letter--something. Where’s he been?”

 “I haven’t asked. I’m in shock.”
Where has he been? Why hasn’t he tried to contact me? Should I hug him?
Maxim was concerned for her, not Greg. Her well being was why he was here, but she had to go to Greg. “I have to get back in there. He needs me.”

# # #

Is she really buying his story?
Lucessa wasn’t a fool, she couldn’t be this gullible. He’d seen right through the man’s charade the second he’d seen him on the front porch, beaten and bruised. He’s a scammer.

And Maxim had been completely negligent in his duty to Guy. Greg wasn’t right for Lucessa. Not then and definitely not now. She’s in danger just being in the same house as him. There was an overwhelming possibility his twin was involved with Greg’s return from the grave.

He walked into the living room. Lucessa knelt down next to the couch, her hand stroking the man’s bruised face, a first aid kit at her feet. “Maxim, can you make Greg a plate of food? I brought home Chinese, it’s on the counter.”

“Of course.” How could he say no? Maxim returned to the kitchen to retrieve the plate she’d requested. This was completely ridiculous. He was serving the man who’d hurt the woman he was required to protect.

Guy was not going to be happy about this.
To hell with Guy. I’m not happy about this.

The food smelled like heaven as he scooped the beef and broccoli onto a plate. The other containers held a noodle and vegetable dish and white rice. He heaped the plate full, not wanting Lucessa to think he was cheating Greg of food. He also made a plate for Lucessa. She was surely famished after working all day.

Plates in hand, Maxim returned to the living room. She’d moved from her position on the floor, to sitting in the recliner facing the couch. He handed Lucessa her plate and rounded the coffee table, setting the other plate in front of Greg, who made no move to touch the food.

The man had a smug look on his face. He must be happy that the man who’d turned him away from
his
house was now serving him dinner. The look infuriated Maxim.

“Where’ve you been this last year, Greg?” Maxim asked.

“Maxim!”

“Just making conversation.”

The smug smile turned into a frown. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Lucessa’s husband Greg. Who in the hell are you?”

The emphasis he put on the word husband told Maxim the man was possessive of Lucessa. He viewed Maxim as a threat.
Good,
he thought.

“I’m Maxim, Lucessa’s...” he trailed off deciding what word best described their relationship. “...friend.” He gave the same answer as before.

Her sparkling eyes met his.

Did he see a hint of something more than friendship in the look that passed between them? Impossible. He wasn’t from her world and she didn’t know his secrets.
When my skeletons emerge from the closet will she still count me as a friend?

“Well, any friend of my wife’s is a friend of mine.” The cordiality of the statement didn’t match the edge in Greg’s tone.

The man sang a different note now.

A growl rumbled deep in Maxim’s chest at Greg’s possessiveness of his Lucessa.
MY Lucessa--where’d that thought come from?

He wanted to pull his shirt off to relieve the scorching heat radiating through his body.

The look Lucessa shot his way told him the growl was heard by all in the room.

# # #

She glanced at Goosey, lying at Maxim’s feet. The dog was fast asleep--the growl hadn’t come from her. That only left Maxim. But why would he growl at Greg? His face was red, his nostrils flared. Had he been a dog the hair on his back would be standing straight up.

Each man stared daggers at the other.

“Now that everyone has met, you must eat, Greg. You look like you haven’t eaten in days,” she said trying to defuse the hostility in the room.
Two possessive men--in my house!

“I am. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. Is this from Lee’s Chinese Kitchen? Always my favorite Chinese food.”

Lucessa caught Maxim rolling his eyes at the comment.

“Maxim, get a plate and join us,” Lucessa suggested. She wanted to include Maxim. Let him know the situation wasn’t only awkward for him.

“I’m sorry, but I must go.” Maxim abruptly turned and headed up the stairs.

“What’s wrong with your boyfriend?” Greg asked.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Her heart fell a little. She’d been looking forward to seeing the delight in Maxim eyes when he tried Chinese food for the first time.

# # #

“What do you mean you were wrong?” Thunder boomed through the study as if a storm raged inside the room, bouncing off the walls and blasting Maxim in the face.

“I have no idea how I was wrong. Word came to me through her dreams that the man was dead. I didn’t think to investigate further. Her sorrow was so great, I was sure he was gone, out of the picture permanently,” Maxim said, a hint of defeat in his voice. He didn’t relish the idea of disappointing his brother again.

“Why are you here and not finding out what the man is up to?”

I don’t want to be here,
he wanted to scream. He felt torn between Guy’s expectations and Lucessa’s need for protection.

“Brother mine, I want to keep you abreast of the situation. This is an interference we hadn’t expected. I have so many questions but I cannot ask them of Lucessa. I cannot risk upsetting her.”

“Do what you must. You’re right, you have to remove Greg from Lucessa’s life until we’ve neutralized Darius and his men.”

We? There’s no
we
here,
Maxim wanted to tell Guy.

“I’ll check in if there are any new developments.”

Maxim turned and left the study, closing his eyes as he passed over the threshold. When they opened, he stood in Lucessa’s guest room. Her house was dark, quiet. Goosey was curled on the end of his bed awaiting his return.

His gut clenched at the thought of Greg sharing her bed. He opened his door. No light shone from her side of the hallway. If the pair was in there, they were awfully quiet. He headed down the stairs, in search of the wine Lucessa had brought home--and maybe some dinner.

Rounding the bottom landing, Maxim spotted the half empty bottle of wine on the counter. As he retrieved a glass, his gaze caught a movement in the backyard. Greg stood in the moonlight, conversing with Alexander.

The bastard!

Food forgotten, he backed out of the kitchen so he wouldn’t be spotted. He should’ve known his brother would have something to do with this. He wanted to run into the back yard and rip the heads off both men, but that would alert his twin. If he did that, Darius would disappear and wait for another opportunity.

No, the best way to handle this was to keep an eye on Greg and Alexander, let them continue with their plan. Eventually he’d catch his brother red handed.

A small sense of relief ran through his body knowing Greg and Lucessa weren’t upstairs sharing a bed. Maxim went back to his room and pulled his shade to the side and watched the men, deep in conversation. He let the curtain fall back into place when Greg headed toward the back door.

Maxim heard the door open and close, and then Greg walked through the kitchen. His feet didn’t turn toward the stairs but continued into the living room. Lucessa must’ve made him a bed on the couch, the guest room already spoken for.

Comfortable that Darius wasn’t making his move tonight, he slipped into his pajamas, which ironically belonged to the man below, and sat propped against his door. He dared anyone to enter her house this night.

Chapter 20

Darius lounged at the table in the corner of his room. He listened to Sandy--so less formal--bang around in the bathroom. She’d been an unexpected find, a delightful surprise. Although, he feared she’d be his downfall, as another woman had been years earlier.

“He is in the house, Master.” Alexander stood inside his room looking relaxed.

How in the fuck did he do that?
He must remember to ask Alexander his secret to appearing out of thin air.

Darius stared into the empty eyes of his second in command. He’d been loyal to him far longer than they’d been on this god-forsaken wasteland. Alexander had readily agreed to follow Darius in his risky bargain with the Dark One. They could both lose their lives if things didn’t pan out. “That’s good. Now we wait.”

“Yes. He stated Lucessa was shocked to see him, but she welcomed him back into the home. He is confused by your brother’s presence, but he thinks he can convince Lucessa to get rid of him.” Alexander spoke with great conviction.

Darius wasn’t as sure Dr. Flynn could convince his wife of anything, most importantly kicking his twin out of the house. At least he’d gained entrance. Having eyes and ears inside her home would be valuable in the days to come.

“Keep an eye on the situation. Watch the man closely. I don’t trust him.”

Alexander nodded and left the room, leaving Darius alone with his thoughts. It was a position he didn’t often entertain or enjoy. Memories haunted him on these occasions, tormenting him, ultimately pushing him to drug use and oblivion. He didn’t relish pondering how things could’ve been different. Everything would’ve been different if he hadn’t jumped so quickly to action that day.

He rubbed his temples to force the recollections from his thoughts.
Focus,
he urged himself.

The incessant pounding on the bathroom door made his head ache. His men had been quick to board up the window in the bathroom, creating a cell for Sandy. He sprung the release lever on the lock. His hand reached to turn the knob, but it already rotated. The woman had spunk and courage. How she’d ended up with Flynn, he didn’t know. They didn’t suit each other in the least.

“Please come out, Dr. Adams.” The knob stopped turning and he heard the woman back away from the door. He eased it open, ready for an assault.

But she sat on the rim of the bathtub, wearing nothing but the night dress and robe he’d provided. She’d been filthy from their travel and her crawl through the desert. Her hospital scrubs lay rumbled and stained on the floor next to her.

His body remembered the pleasure of instructing her to change. The woman had stared directly into his eyes as she’d removed each piece of clothing, starting with her shoes and moving on to her shirt, pants and lastly her bra and panties.

Her legs were long and slim. The ‘v’ between her legs proved she was all natural with golden curls between her thighs. His eyes had moved up her body to her perfect teardrop breasts, her perky nipples hard and pointing straight at him. His eyes had raked over her exposed flesh.

His steel blue eyes had risen to her moss tinted ones. He’d been anxious to see if she felt the physical connection he had. But her foot had shot out and caught him in his nether region. She’d been locked in the bathroom ever since.

Strolling into the small bathroom, he approached her form balanced on the edge of the bathtub. The robe was pulled tightly around her body.

“Are you ready to behave, Dr. Adams?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes downcast in defeat.

Darius let out his breath. He’d held it waiting for her reply. “Then come join me for a meal.”

“I’m not hungry.” She wrapped her arm around her middle as her stomach let out a violent growl. “I’d rather eat in here.”

“You’ll eat with me or you won’t eat at all.”

She stood, wrapping her arms around her body, shielding herself from his view. Her bare feet padded against the filthy tile floor and into the bedroom.

God, I need to have someone clean up this dump.

She scurried toward the small table Darius recently vacated. He followed her, admiring her rounded bottom. She flinched when he reached out and pulled her chair out for her to sit.

“Whatever,” she mumbled.

I feel like I’m on a fucking date. What’s wrong with me?

He moved around the table and took his seat across from her. The atmosphere tense. It was too much to hope it was sexual tension.

He reached into the brown fast-food sack one of his men had brought for his dinner. He set a paper-wrapped cheeseburger and greasy fries in front of each of them, the smell making him nauseous. There were only so many years a person, even a disgraced Oneiroi, could live off fast-food.

“Have you heard from Greg?” she asked.

He didn’t want to talk about her lover. He wanted to talk about making her
his
lover. “He’s returned to the loving arms of his wife. I smell reconciliation in the air.” He hoped to plant a little doubt in her mind about Flynn’s allegiance to her. It could only improve his standing.

“That’s a lie.”

He raised his shoulders in a shrug he hoped said ‘think what you want’. He unwrapped his burger and took a bite, hot grease oozed from the burger, slid down his fingers and dripped off his wrist to the table. The meat, cheese, and produce were bland and unfulfilling. What he wouldn’t give to be in Erebos, being served in his private chamber.