Terran Times 18 - Emerald Envisage (27 page)

She paced about, anger and frustration rising quickly. “If you’re real, why don’t you come to me like a normal person?” she demanded. Standing at the window in the living room, she stared out at the charming, old apartment buildings across the street and the first splash of gold and orange hues in the sky. “I don’t want to answer any more letters,” she mumbled.

Despite her reluctance toward the letters, Brigit hurried home to see if another pink envelope waited for her that evening. She wasn’t surprised to see it on the hardwood floor. Her fingers shook as she lifted it, noticing a small bulge at the bottom. She opened it and looked inside. It was a key. Her pulse jumped as she reached in and pulled it out. Resting it against her palm, she examined it. It was a typical key, attached to a round metal ring. She walked over to the sofa and read the accompanying letter. She paused and read the instructions aloud.

“If you believe, respond here.”
An address in Glenageary followed with brief directions. She was familiar with the suburban town in south County Dublin. This time, he had written his name at the end.
Justin.
She ran her finger over his signature.

The uncanny moment had put her in a daze before realization stirred her senses like an electric current. Suddenly, her world tilted, reason and reality shifting, scattering wildly before settling. It was the most bizarre experience in her life, but she totally accepted the fact that Justin had been here, that they’d made love twice. Now, how he fit into her dreams was something she’d have to find out.

Brigit wasted no time responding to the letter.
I believe
.
Brigit
. She placed it back in the envelope and carried it to her dresser.

When Justin came to her that night, she would get the answers she needed. She was so excited and nervous it took her an hour to fall asleep.

It could have been the middle of the day when he appeared, gone was the shroud of darkness. A wide smile brightened his handsome face. He clasped her hand and helped her sit up, drawing her into his arms. Brigit hugged him to her for several heartbeats, her hands moving over the lean muscles under his white T-shirt. He cupped her face and planted a delicious kiss on her mouth, making her sigh.

She leaned back slightly, taking in his appearance. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You’re dressed.”

He chuckled. “This time, I’m here to talk.” At her nod, he continued. “I know you’ve answered the letter…but I need to know if you’ll come.”

“You know that I
know
you exist, then?”

He smiled and brushed a loose strand from her face. “Yes, Brigit, and it means more to me than you can imagine,” he said in an apparently thick voice.

“I want to come—tomorrow if possible…but I need to understand how all of this is happening,” she said, holding his gaze evenly.

He acknowledged with a tilt of his dark head. “You must be open-minded to what I will tell you and do not doubt for a second that what I say is true.” He waited for her agreement before going on. “You must be familiar with accounts of medieval witchcraft, particularly Kilkenny’s history of burning women at the stake?”

She nodded, barely remembering to breathe.

“A woman, whose name I never mention, was once suspected of witchcraft and burned alive in Kilkenny, in the 14
^th
century. From what I’ve suffered these past two years, I believe her execution was warranted. Her spirit is cursed, never to rest in peace, but somehow she manages to invade the minds of men in their sleep, requesting sexual favors. She paid me a few visits and I ignored her, refused her…I have no idea why—I just did. So her punishment to me was a curse.” He paused to caress Brigit’s frightened face. “Don’t be afraid, she only visits men. It is a form of revenge, I assume. The curse allows me to exist in every respect except one—to experience the pleasure of physical touch and passion. I can only derive such pleasure by visiting women in their dreams.”

Brigit’s hand flew to her mouth in shock, a terrible shiver arcing through her. Her eyes filled with tears of compassion.
How unbelievably horrible
!
Yet Justin wanted her to believe.

He took her hand again and squeezed it reassuringly. “But there is a way to break the curse, Brigit. I had to find a woman whose life’s passions and aversions were similar to mine. The letters serve this purpose.” A humorous gleam danced in his eyes. “Few young women enjoy classical music, you know,” he said.

She gave a weak smile, brushing a tear from her eye. “Oh, Justin…poor you.”

“Next, the woman had to believe I existed. And you believed.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you saying…the curse is broken?”

His fingers stroked her cheek. “It should be. There’s only one way to tell for sure,” he said in a shaky voice.

“How?”

“You have the address to my home. Come see me tomorrow.”

She reached out and clasped his shoulders. “I will…” Leaning forward, she gave him an eager kiss. “What time?”

His mouth curved into a sensual smile. “I’ll be there all day.”

“One more thing, Justin…how did you read my answers to the letters?”

“I’ve become a good mind-reader, so once you projected your thoughts to paper, I picked them up.”

“I see.” She paused. “How did you get into the building?”

“Ah, the bloody curse taught me certain…guileful methods I am not proud of,” he replied with an apologetic smile.

She had to chuckle at that.

He pulled her to him for a long kiss neither wanted to end. “Tomorrow then,” he stated and touched her face before fading into a golden light.

Brigit called in sick the following morning and set about getting dressed. She changed in and out of several articles of clothing, finally deciding on a pair of new, dark blue jeans and a tan angora sweater whose neckline exposed most of her left shoulder.

“Hair up? Nah—down.” She brushed her hair vigorously until the sun picked up every shiny, golden shade. She added some mascara and a soft tint of lip-gloss. A pair of low-heeled suede boots and her suede coat completed the look.

Directions in hand, she got into her old Renault. She took the route closest to the eastern coastline, barely noticing the sparkling bay and the rolling hills in the distance. Careful not to miss a turn, she arrived at the address Justin had given her in twenty minutes. It was located in a semi-rural part of the upscale town. She stopped at the long front drive and gazed at the whitewashed cottage. Its slate roof and beautiful European windows would welcome any guest, despite the ample size. Brigit turned into the drive and parked next to a Jeep Wrangler, her heart thumping against her chest. She reached into the middle compartment and took the key Jason had given her. Slowly, she walked to the front door of the house and glanced at the doorbell. She assumed Jason wanted her to simply unlock the door and walk in. She took a deep breath and expelled slowly, hoping her heart would settle.

She walked into a high-ceiling home whose impressive architecture contrasted well with the simple yet tasteful furniture. Both the kitchen and living room boasted exposed wood beams across the angled ceiling. Justin’s presence was near tangible in the setting, although he didn’t seem to be in the house. She cleared her throat. “Justin?” Her heart still hadn’t slowed.

No answer.

Instinct guided her toward the back through a breakfast nook. She looked out the sliding glass door and let out a surprised sigh. The backyard stretched out to about an acre of green lawn, enclosed within a natural border of field maples, thick conifers and azalea. Several apple trees dotted the landscape as well, but Brigit’s eyes were drawn almost immediately to the large, glass greenhouses off to the right. There were two, standing alongside each other.

She slid the door open and stepped onto the raised deck. Walking to the front, she placed her arms on the top rail and breathed in the clean, crisp air. “This is heaven.” She was amazed that Justin lived here.
Now where is that man
?

Taking the short flight of steps, she ended up on a tiled path leading up to both greenhouses. The tranquil surrounding had calmed her nerves and she eagerly inspected the first greenhouse. Her gaze roamed over rows of tomato, cucumber, pepper and lettuce plants. Good idea, Brigit thought. Justin wasn’t here though. She continued along the path to the next greenhouse, just some feet away. The door was partly open.

She stepped into the humid environment and glanced at the wonderful splash of lush green foliage and bright colors that filled most of the spacious area. Glimpsing some movement near the back, her pulse picked up again. Her boots crunched on the fine gravel as she made her way to the space in the middle of the greenhouse. Tucked behind a group of tall Dracaenas was a man with thick dark hair. She licked her suddenly dry lips and walked down the path.

He stopped what he was doing and straightened, wiping his hands on slightly soiled jeans. Shifting a couple of the plants to the side, he stepped into the clearing.

Brigit’s legs froze momentarily as she stared into his dark green eyes. A shaky sigh pushed past her lips. There he was. In the flesh. Her heart skipped a few beats as she approached him.

His gaze moved over her, flooding her skin with heat. The green depths flickered with visible recognition and delight. She noted the film of perspiration that moistened his brow, the unruliness of those dark locks of hair she’d curled her fingers into. The lean, sculpted form of his body filled his gray T-shirt and worn jeans perfectly. He was the picture of masculine earthiness.

She stopped a short distance from him. “Justin.”

“Brigit,” he responded in a less than steady voice, despite his calm appearance.

The air around them was laden with emotions held in check. She shifted her eyes to the plants behind him. “Lovely dragons,” she said.

He raised a dark eyebrow and hesitated. A grin curved his beautiful mouth in understanding. “Yes, aren’t they? Brigit—”

“Justin…sorry, go ahead.”

He closed the distance between them, wiping his brow with his forearm. “You know, you’re much more beautiful in person.”

“I was going to say the same thing…I mean, much more handsome…”

He reached out with a trembling hand and touched the side of her face. For a long, silent moment, he stared at her with a look so solemn she gripped his hand in panic. Tears welled up in his eyes and her heart sank.

His other hand came around her waist and, before she could say a word, he crushed her to him, his face pressed against her hair. “Hold me…don’t let go,” he ordered in a thick voice and she tightened her arms around him.

“Justin, are you…” She swallowed the tightness in her throat.

He lifted her off her feet and swung her around, his deep laughter like a velvet song. When he lowered her feet back to the ground, he framed her face in his hands and kissed her eagerly with a series of short and long caresses. “Brigit, you’ve given me life! My love, my heart—”

He hugged her again until she began laughing and crying. She eased out of his embrace and wiped her tears. “Just tell me it worked—it’s broken, isn’t it?” she blurted.

Justin shut his eyes briefly as though he couldn’t believe it himself. “Two years…if it wasn’t for you…”

She took his hands and squeezed. “It’s over now and it’s so good to see you, touch you—” She let out a tiny cry as he scooped her up and strode out of the greenhouse.

“Do you like my garden?” he asked, looking down at her as she clung to him.

“I absolutely love it!” She gazed at the surrounding flora and gave a heavenly sigh. “It’s a dream come true,” she said softly and gazed at him in awe.

At the foot of the deck, he paused to slip off his sneakers.

“Justin, what do you do for a living?” she asked.

“I’m a chef at a Dublin restaurant.”

“That explains your interest in growing vegetables.”

He carried her into his home, straight to his bedroom. “Take off your coat…and the rest,” he said with a mischievous grin and kissed her. “Tuck yourself in bed and wait for me while I shower.”

She laughed and watched him head off, her heart nearly bursting with joy.

Justin helped Brigit remove the plant from its pot. She carefully loosened the root ball and placed it in the rich soil they had prepared at the back of the cottage.

“I’ve always wanted to grow Hydrangeas, but they don’t do well indoors. I’m so excited about this.”

“Well, lucky me you’re here to do something about this empty spot.”

She gently packed the earth around the plant and leaned back on her haunches to admire its partially bloomed, pink flowers. “These will make the perfect border here—morning light and afternoon shade.”

Justin leaned in for a kiss as he handed her the next pot. “My green-thumbed woman, all this planting and playing with dirt has turned me on,” he said huskily, his eyes dark with desire.

Since Brigit had moved into the cottage a month ago, they had been doing little else except gardening, cooking and making love. She laughed as he nuzzled her throat, tickling her with his tongue. “Justin, we’re almost done—can’t you wait?”

He grabbed her about the waist, bringing her to the ground. “No.”