Read Chaste Kiss Online

Authors: Jo Barrett

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Ghosts, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Contemporary Fiction

Chaste Kiss (23 page)

"If ‘tis anything like the exquisite heat I feel when I touch you, then I know all too well."

A million tingles skittered across her skin. The other strap slid off her shoulder, dropping her dress to her waist.

"You are most beautiful, Isabel."

Dare she open her eyes? Should she let her nervousness and timidity keep her from experiencing all she could?

No, she wanted to see where he was, and what he was doing. She had to.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and watched as he placed tiny kisses across her chest then teasingly dipped his tongue between her breasts. It felt and looked heavenly. Her nipples tightened and puckered, straining against the lace, begging for his touch. Weak from his attentions, she laid back on the bed.

His lips moved ever closer to the turgid peaks, and she silently wished she could feel the rough, wet texture of his tongue, and the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress.

She noticed his hair, no longer held by its leather tie, brushing her skin. A pang of disappointment at not being able to feel its silkiness wafted over her heart. Refusing to let the negative emotion interfere, she concentrated on his kisses and bathed in the exploding sensations encompassing her.

He moved to lay by her side, regret evident in his eyes. Was this all they could do? All they could have?

"How far can this go, William?"

"I do not know, love.” He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. “All I know is I want to touch all of you. I want to know every part of you intimately."

She shivered from his words.

"Are you certain you are not cold?"

"I'd say I'm quite hot at the moment."

He laughed deeply. “You are a saucy wench.” Leaning forward, he nuzzled her neck. “But I should go now,” he said as he did unknown things to her ear. “You need your rest. You are a working woman with much to do."

"Just shut up and kiss me."

"Mayhap shrew would be a better word.” He pecked a kiss upon the tip of her nose.

"That's not exactly the kind of kiss I had in mind,” she grumbled.

William cupped her face with his hand. “I must leave."

"I was hoping you'd stay."

He stared into her eyes for several moments then captured her lips. A titillating surge of energy invaded her mouth and spread throughout her body. She desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him and feel the sinewy muscles of his body, but his mouth was the only thing she could feel. Focusing her energies on the kiss, she pushed all other thoughts from her mind as she clutched the coverlet tightly in her fists.

William's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He yearned for more, but did not dare think on it. Many times during her conversation with Constance, he had nearly moaned allowed with pleasure from the heat of her body beneath his lips. Other parts of him yearned for a taste of that heat as well, but it was not to be. This was all they could have. More than they should dare. Seeing and touching her tore him apart. He could not go further, for ‘twould surely destroy him.

Slowly, he pulled away, letting his gaze travel over her features, memorizing every detail, for he would not let their touching go this far again. He had never known such a rush of desire and fought desperately for control.

Was it his four hundred-year-old abstinence or simply Isabel? She was more than he ever dreamed a woman could be. Her beauty, her wit, and her passion renewed his weary soul. But that was all he was, a soul without real form, without real substance. As badly as he wanted to bury himself inside her and experience her sweltering heat, he knew it could not be.

"This is not right, love,” he said. “You are meant to marry someday and have children. It breaks my heart we can never be as man and wife.” His voice nearly broke with his admission.

"This is more right than anything I've ever known."

At times, he too, felt it to be true, but he was still not of her world and never would be. If only they could have more. If only he were alive. His eyes followed every caress as he slid his fingers across her beautiful skin, wishing for those very things. Wishing for life.

He claimed one last kiss. “I must go,” he murmured against her lips. “I cannot bear much more."

Her eyes pleaded with him for a moment then gave way to understanding. She was most definitely a remarkable woman. One he would never forget. She'd found a way into his cold heart and filled his being with more love than he'd ever known.

With a remorseful sigh, William rose from the bed and made his way to the dresser to retrieve the dagger. He slipped it into his boot then crossed the room to the door. As he laid his hand upon the handle and became solid, he paused and looked back over his shoulder at the woman he loved, laying on the bed with desire still luminous in her eyes.

How he wanted to return to her, but could not. He knew ‘twould not be long before he conceded to the overwhelming need to feel her truly and lose her in that same moment. He would have to be careful. Their touching was pure temptation, but what a sweet temptation. Soon, he would leave her. He had no choice. But until then, they would share a few rare moments he could take into eternity with him.

"Pleasant dreams, my love."

"Good night, William,” she said as he closed the door behind him.

Chapter Fourteen

The days flew by as Isabel worked on getting her shop ready for her grand opening. Everything was going as planned. Her suppliers were all set up, she'd transported the previous shipments from home to the store, and Debi was ready to begin work as her assistant.

Being together with her old friend after so many years had been one of the high spots in Isabel's week. In less than five minutes of talking they were already finishing one another's sentences. It was uncanny.

Not only did Debi fill one of the empty spaces in her life, she had a natural rapport with people. A real asset in a little town like Brantley, and she was a born scrounger. She'd managed to fill a third of the shop with things she'd just
happened
upon. Several of which were reasonably valuable pieces. But her move to Brantley and the re-emergence into Isabel's life was both lucky and unlucky.

Debi Cummings was a touchy-feely person. Something Isabel had forgotten. Her friend was always there with a quick hug or a pat on the back and always with a bright smile. Wonderful traits to be sure, but because of her tendency to touch people, William had to stay away from the shop. She couldn't even risk introducing them for fear that she'd touch William and send him out of her life forever. Although it was safer, Isabel missed him terribly.

Before Debi's grandmother was well enough for her to come to work, William had been helping get the shop ready. While providing the appreciated muscle in moving around shelves and boxes, he always managed to find moments throughout the day when he could turn invisible without anyone noticing and touch her.

A quick kiss behind a stack of boxes in the storage room, a gentle caress as they drove down the isolated road home, even a swat on her behind as she climbed the stairs. But since Debi started working, their only private moments together were at home, and those too, were few and far between. William wouldn't visit her in her bedroom anymore, nor would he allow her to visit him in his. He said he didn't want her uncle to believe there was something inappropriate going on. This, coming from a sixteenth century womanizer.

She understood his point of view, but hated it just the same. Her hopes of going further with their relationship were ruined as well. Instead of heated exchanges like the first night they'd touched, his kisses were less passionate and his caresses less intimate. Although thankful he hadn't stopped touching her completely, she couldn't help but want more.

When Isabel wasn't working on getting her shop ready to open, she spent her time searching countless books on the topic of curses and spells, but never found anything that made much sense or led to a solution to William's problem. She finally came to the conclusion that she had to accept that nothing was going to change between them, but it was just so damn hard.

"Hey now,” Debi called, bouncing up the narrow stairs into her office.

Isabel blinked, clearing away her depressing thoughts, and let herself be carried away by the uplifting current of her friend's infectious spirit. Clad in denim from head to calf, toting a bright pink raincoat, Debi's full skirt swayed as she crossed the room, her designer cowboy boots tapping against the hardwood floor in time with her jangling jewelry. A Concho belt about her waist, large silver hoops hanging from her ears, a St. Christopher's medal around her neck, silver bracelets around her wrists, and countless rings on her fingers would have been far too much for any other woman, but not for Debi. Her outfits always sparkled as brightly as her personality.

She looked much better than the day they ran into one another. Her face had more color, although the amount of Cherokee blood running through her veins kept her skin a natural golden tan all year long. A trait Isabel envied just a bit.

As she made her way toward her desk, she realized her friend resembled a shorter version of Rosalind Russell mixed with a little Marilyn Monroe. The woman absolutely oozed sexuality, but not in a threatening or unsavory way. She always carried herself with a sense of style and vitality that made her instantly likeable. Isabel marveled at Debi's cheerful disposition, knowing that age-old pains still haunted her friend.

"Wipe that frown off your face, boss lady. I've got some good news,” Debi said with her usual joviality.

"Frown gone and quit calling me boss lady. What news?"

"Your first client.” She flopped into a chair, flicking her long honey colored hair over her shoulder. “Mrs. Bondurant, the mayor's wife, wants to set up an appointment for a consultation to redecorate her guest room."

Isabel whistled. “You want to tell me how you pulled that one off?"

"No biggie. She was in Harrington's looking at their bolts of fabric and I just started chatting with her. She was looking for something for curtains that would go with the décor that's already in her guest room."

"How did you get her from wanting new curtains to considering redecorating the entire room?"

"Easy. Have you ever seen Harrington's fabric? It's nice and all but ordinary. Mrs. Bondurant is definitely not ordinary. She has money, and she has expensive tastes. Piece of cake,” she said with a shrug.

Isabel laughed. “You're amazing."

Debi bowed her head with a quirky grin. “Thank you,” she lilted. “Oh, hey, before I forget, this is for you. I ran into the delivery boy on my way in.” She pulled a box out from under her folded raincoat.

A cold sweat broke out across Isabel's brow. It was a flower box, the kind that usually held roses. She mechanically took the parcel and laid it on her desk. Sliding her shaking hands under the string, she slipped the twine off the end. She carefully lifted the lid then sucked in a sharp breath. Red rose petals and a card lay inside on black tissue paper.

"Weird. No flowers, just petals,” Debi commented.

Ignoring her lungs’ plea for air, Isabel bent closer to read the card. Her knees went weak as she read the note.

Your chariot awaits to carry you to heaven upon a fragrant bed of roses
.

Isabel slumped down in her chair, her entire body quaking with fear. He'd found her. She hadn't been imagining things. All week, whenever she came into town, she felt like she was being watched. She hadn't mentioned it to William or her uncle, hoping it was nothing to be concerned about. There was little doubt that at the slightest hint of danger, they'd lock her in her room and Derrington Antiques would never open its doors.

The smell of roses wafted through the air, and her stomach lurched. Snatching up the lid, she quickly covered the box. He knew where she worked. Did he know where she lived?

"Isabel, are you okay?"

She hadn't felt him at Derrington Manor, but it was just a matter of time. All he had to do was follow her home, if he hadn't already. What was she going to do?

Mick
. She had to call Mick.

"Hey,” Debi said, placing her hand on her arm.

Isabel jumped at the contact. “What?"

"I asked if you're all right. You're white as a sheet."

"I'm fine. I just need to make a phone call."

"Uh-uh, girlfriend. I'm not buying it. Spill it. What's going on?"

Clamping her eyes closed, she took a deep breath. Not only was this not her favorite topic, she didn't want to frighten her friend. Debi had her own share of nightmares and Isabel didn't want to add to them.

"Come on, Izzy. A box of rose petals is really creepy. What's this about?"

Knowing Debi wouldn't leave it alone till she told her every last little detail, Isabel motioned for her to sit down. As she began to explain the events of the past few months, she watched her friend's beautiful complexion turn pale, her own horrible past coming to the forefront of her mind. A few seconds after she finished explaining everything, Debi got up, came to her side, and pulled her into a loving embrace.

"Everything will be okay,” Debi said shakily.

Isabel squeezed her in return. “I know. Are you okay?"

"Hey.” Debi pulled back with a broad grin. “Not much fazes me.” They both giggled uneasily. “I take it you're calling the cops?” she asked.

"Yes. I've got a new friend there. He'll want to see this.” Isabel gestured shakily at the box.

"Okay. But if you need me, just give a yell.” She took a few hesitant steps toward the stairs. “I'll be right downstairs."

"I'm fine. Go. We've got a shop to open tomorrow, remember?"

With a renewed smile, she left Isabel alone to make her call. Once she got through to Mick and explained what happened, he told her he would be there as soon as he could.

Feeling a slight sense of relief, she concentrated on calming her racing heart. What she wouldn't give for William's arms to be around her at that moment.

She cast the unrealistic yearning aside and thought about Mick. They'd become good friends over the past few weeks, meeting for lunch a time or two. Up until today, their conversations had been pleasant, and she truly enjoyed his company, but now the ugliness that initially brought them together intruded on her life again.

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