Dalakis Passion 2 - Lucian's Delight (2 page)

Arching backwards, she was so lost in the pleasure of her arousal that the pain struck
her unawares.
Crying out, she pulled away as pain shot through her back and shoulders. Her
body went hot and then
cold,
and she could feel the clamminess of her skin as she broke
out into a sweat.
He swore. Holding her carefully, he waited until the pain had subsided once again
before pushing a damp strand of hair out of her face.
"I should not have forgotten your injuries. Forgive me?" His words were formal
and tinged with an accent she couldn't place.
Although it was hard, she offered him a weak smile. "It's not your fault. I forgot
them myself for a moment." But the moment was gone and memory flooded through
her. She tried to sit up, but he held her easily, his arms velvet manacles around her.
"Why are you in my dream?" His words shocked her as understanding began to
clear the cobwebs of her muddled mind.
"You're in my dream," she informed him.
He arched one his black eyebrows and gave her a superior male look. "I think not."
Delight had been having a variation of this nightmare for the past eight years. She
was one of those few people who were able to master lucid dreaming, giving her the
ability to be aware and exercise some control over them. Once she was fully cognizant
of the dream, she always managed to wake herself up before they raped and killed her.
Being chased and beaten was bad enough, even if it was just a dream.
But not tonight.
Tonight had been different. This time the dream had been more
real, more vicious and had continued long past its usual ending. She had been unable to
stop it and had panicked.
Then he had come. Like some knight of old, he had rescued her and then claimed
her as the spoils of victory. Now he had the nerve to tell her it was his dream, not hers.
"I've had the same dream for years." Even though every inch of her body hurt, it
was still screaming with arousal. Ignoring it, she forced herself to continue. "You're
definitely in my dream." She poked him in his chest for emphasis, but it was like hitting
steel. There was definitely no give in this man's chest.
"This is unusual." He frowned down at her as if this was somehow all her fault.
She just shrugged at him. As much as she wanted to stay with him and explore the
sexual possibilities with him, Delight knew that it was time to wake up now. She
desperately needed to put this dream behind her and find her equilibrium.
"I have to go now." She tried once again to ease out of his arms.
"No." There was a note of desperation in his voice that had not been there before.
"If you're real, then you are the one."
The intensity in his eyes began to scare her. They were turning from green to red
right in front of her. The power that had been leashed suddenly lashed at her from all
sides. Ignoring his pleas to stay, she clapped her hands over her ears and began to
scream out loud. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"
Chapter Two
As she bolted upright in bed, Delight could swear she heard his anguished cry
ringing in her ears. She reached out with her mind, suddenly afraid to lose all contact
with him. But it was too late. He was gone. Their connection had been severed as if it
had never been. She felt empty inside, like something special and important had been
lost.
Falling back against her pillows, she rolled over and buried her face against them.
She could feel the dampness of the tears she'd cried drying on her cheeks and the
phantom pain in her back as it slowly disappeared.
Half an hour later, she rolled over and dragged her aching body out of bed. She felt
totally exhausted and drained by her nocturnal activities. Who knew that a dream could
be so real or so vivid? And it was just a dream. Common sense had seeped gradually
back into her mind. Now all she needed was a shower and a cup of hot, steaming coffee
to put her back to rights.
Wandering over to the window, she gazed out over the city she'd called home her
entire life. The sun was rising for another day and it hung like a bloody orb in the sky,
tingeing the city in red. Delight couldn't shake the feeling that it was a bad omen of
things to come. New Orleans.
The city of ghouls and legends and superstitions.
There
was no other place like it in the world.
Delight shivered even though the air wafting through the open window was warm.
Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she turned and padded silently to the
connecting bathroom. She showered quickly, wrapped herself in a towel and returned
to her bedroom to dress.
All the while, a pair of green eyes haunted her. Every time she closed her eyes, his
face was there in front of her, waiting for her. She laughed as she dragged on a pair of
panties and a matching bra in a pale mint color. The stranger in her dream certainly fit
the criteria for being a dream-man. Handsome in a rugged way, he exuded an aura of
sexuality and power.
Definitely a man way out of her league.
Grabbing a long linen skirt in a light beige color, she topped it with a crisp,
sleeveless white blouse. Examining herself in the mirror, she was pleased that her
restless night didn't show on her face. Her hair was cut in a short style that fell easily
into place every morning when she washed it. Its sandy brown color went well with her
pale blue eyes. They were her best feature in an otherwise plain, heart-shaped face. Her
lips were average, not too thin, not too thick, and her nose tilted upwards just a
smidgen.
Average height, build, and weight summed up everything about her as she
frowned at her reflection. The only thing that was a little better than average was her
breasts. At least they were a respectable thirty-four C-cup. At twenty-eight, she had
long since accepted herself the way she was.
Sighing, she went to the closet and pulled out a pair of beige loafers and slipped her
feet into them. Just because she was only five-foot-five didn't mean she wore heels.
When you were on your feet all day like she was, comfort was the only thing that
mattered.
Delight had one hand on the doorknob when she swore softly and stomped back
over to her dresser. Picking up a tube of lipstick, she swiped the light shade across her
lips. It didn't show up very much, but the rosy color flattered her features. It was more
for her than for anyone else, giving her a sense that she was donning her professional
armor so she could face the day a little more easily.
With a nod in the mirror, she turned and left her room. She was going to check her
brother's room as she passed by, but she could hear Chase rummaging around inside.
She thanked God every day that her brother was different from most other eighteen-
year-olds.
Responsible, polite, hardworking, and a joy to be around, Chase had been her sole
responsibility for the last ten years since the death of their mother to an unexpected
fatal heart attack. Their father had abandoned
them
years before and neither of them
thought about him much. He simply hadn't ever been a part of their lives.
Delight hurried down the back stairs. She could smell the coffee wafting on the
breeze and she knew that Miss Nadine was already up and hard at work. Stopping at
the bottom of the stairs, she smiled as she watched the older woman bustling around
the kitchen.
Miss Nadine might be in her mid-sixties, but nobody had better suggest that she
was old, or they'd get a tongue-lashing that they'd never recover from. Tall, thin, and
full of energy, she worked nonstop from morning until night. Her face was long, but
her mocha-colored skin was surprisingly smooth and unlined, except for the laugh lines
around her mouth and eyes. Always smiling, she kept her thick black hair swept up in a
fashionable chignon. She looked more like an aging movie starlet than someone's
grandmother. Her chocolate-brown eyes were shrewd, her heart was as big as an ocean,
and Delight loved her like a mother.
Ten years ago, she'd shown up on the front doorstep of Miss Nadine Grande's Bed
and Breakfast with little Chase's hand clasped tight in hers. Boldly, she'd knocked on
the door and announced that she was there about the live-in position of
maid/cook/waitress. Delight had worn some of her mother's makeup, trying her best
to look older than her eighteen years. But the truth was
,
she was desperate. Their
mother's death had left them in dire straits. They were being evicted from their
apartment at the end of the month, and if she couldn't find a job she would lose Chase
to a foster home.
Miss Nadine had taken one look at her and ushered them into the kitchen where
she proceeded to feed them breakfast all the while dragging their entire life story out of
them. She did it so smoothly that the story had been tumbling from Delight's lips with
no way to stop it. Chase had started crying quietly and Delight had picked up her
young brother and headed towards the door, knowing she'd blown one of her few
employment opportunities.
She'd never made it out of the kitchen.
Miss Nadine's no-nonsense voice stopped her in her tracks, asking her if she could
start immediately. They'd packed their belongings and moved into the small attic
apartment of the three-story bed-and-breakfast that very day. Delight had worked hard
to make sure that Miss Nadine never regretted her decision. The job had been perfect
for her, and the two women had forged a deep friendship.
Chase had benefited the most. Delight was able to be there for him when he got
home from school every day. She was able to participate in his school activities while
providing a roof over his head and food on the table. But even as a child, Chase had
done his share of work around "The Grande", as they all called it. Now at eighteen, he
worked part-time at an art supply store during the school year, keeping himself in
pocket money and art supplies. He was a talented sculptor and worked in wood, stone,
and metal, selling his creations down at Jackson Square.
"You
gonna
stand there all day or do you want some coffee?" Miss Nadine's
smooth tones cut through Delight's thoughts like a knife, making her hurry into the
kitchen.
"Sorry I'm a little slow this morning." Delight hated that she'd slept late. It was
only seven, but she was usually helping in the kitchen by now.
The older woman just glared at her as she whipped the batter for her famous pecan
pancakes. "You work too hard, child." Plunking the bowl on the counter, she shook her
spoon at Delight. "Here all day and then bartending at that fancy restaurant four nights
a week. You need to get out and have some fun. Maybe have a social life." Grumbling,
she tested the griddle before pouring some batter on its hot surface. "When was the last
time you had a date?"
Delight opened her mouth to speak and slowly closed it. She thought and thought.
"There you go," Miss Nadine said as she watched the pancakes cook. "Child, I date
more than you do and that's just not right."
"I just haven't met anyone that interests me." Even as she spoke the words, the man
from her dreams popped into her head. Just the thought of him sent a shiver down her
spine and made her feel all hot and bothered. She could feel the moisture between her
legs making her panties damp, and suddenly her nipples had become hard pebbles
pushing against the cups of her bra. To hide her discomfort, she hurried to the
cupboard, pulled down a mug, poured herself a cup of coffee, and took a fortifying sip.
Keeping her back to Miss Nadine, who usually saw way too much with those laser
brown eyes, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out fresh
fruit.
Carrying it to the
counter, she began to section oranges with the ease of long experience. "Besides, I make
good money at Etienne's and the tips are good." Wielding the knife like a machete, she
attacked the bananas next. "Chase wants to go to art school and he's too talented not to
get the opportunity."
"And what about you, child?" The soft words struck Delight like a cruel whip,
lacerating her soul.
Swallowing hard, she tossed the fruit into a large glass bowl and began to pluck
green grapes from the bunch. "I'm fine just the way I am." And she was, she reminded
herself, blinking back tears.
Miss Nadine opened her mouth to speak, but the moment was lost when they heard
the stomping of large sneakers down the back stairs. Chase came to an abrupt halt
when he entered the kitchen. He looked from one woman to the other before
proceeding with caution into the room.
"Everything okay?"
His voice was casual, but
his expression showed his concern.
Chase had always been sensitive, even as a
child,
and Delight knew that was part of
what would help him become a great artist and an even better man. Walking over to her
little brother, she tilted her head back and peered into pale blue eyes that were just like
her own. Her little brother was over six feet tall and filling out more and more every
day.
Reaching up, she patted him on the cheek. "Everything is fine. Now have breakfast
so you won't be late for work." Now that school was out for the summer, he was
working full-time at the art store and working on his own sculptures in his spare time.
"You're sure?" Catching her hand in his much larger, rougher one, he gave it a
squeeze.
"I'm sure," she smiled up at him. All she wanted out of life was for Chase to be
happy and be able to pursue his art. Life was flowing just the way she wanted it to, and
if sometimes she was a little lonely and wanted a little more from life, well that was just
too bad. Her life had been a good one so far and she wouldn't change a single moment
of it.
"Stubborn," Miss Nadine muttered under her breath as she flipped pancakes onto a
large plate and handed them to Chase.
"And don't you forget it," Delight taunted. With the sun shining in through the
kitchen window, making patterns of light and shadow on the wall, and the three of
them together, she felt the last remnants of her nightmare fade away.
And when she heard the sound of footsteps on the front stairs, she hurried out of
the kitchen to bid one of the guests good morning as she led him into the dining room.