Dreams: Part Two (15 page)

Specter heaved himself to his feet and padded silently after Colby as he went down the hall to the front room.

A few minutes later Colby was staring at the glowing computer screen, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.

The roar of the water was a never ending crescendo of sound. It filled the whole world, cutting off everything that was normal, reasonable, rational. He was in another universe, another time and place and he had to play by the new rules if he and the woman and the unborn child were to survive.

The granite was slippery. In the omnipresent darkness the water that flowed over every surface looked as black as moonlit blood and was just as treacherous. Banner scrabbled for purchase as he fought his way up the narrow, sloping ledge toward the cave entrance. He could hear nothing except the thundering water, see nothing except the hulking shadow of the slick rock wall that concealed the cave.

He could not risk a flashlight. He could not risk warning the evil that waited in the cave.

A gust of wind drove water into his face, blinding him even more effectively than the darkness. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his sodden shirt and moved forward another few feet.

Then, without any warning, his groping fingers touched empty space and he froze. He was standing at the great yawning mouth of the cave.

He stared into the dark pit, aware of the silent summons from the hidden grotto. She was waiting for him there. He had to get to her. But first he had to get past whatever it was that threatened her. After all these years he would finally learn the truth. He was no longer certain he wanted to know the answer.

“Colby?“

He was startled by the sound of Diana’s voice. He turned around and found her standing near his desk, wrapped in her robe. Her face reflected the faint, eerie glow of the computer screen and he could read the concern in her eyes.

“Hi, honey. Didn’t mean to wake you. I got a couple of ideas for finishing the book and thought I’d better get them down while they were fresh in my mind.“

“I suppose a professional writer has to take advantage of a burst of inspiration when it strikes.“ She came closer.

“Bursts of inspiration are damned rare in this business.“ He smiled faintly. “You make use of them when you’re lucky enough to get them.“

“Don’t you have them all the time? Isn’t that how the creative process works?“

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. A book gets written through sheer, unadulterated hard work, sweat and perseverance. Anyone who sat around waiting for inspiration to strike would probably take ten years to finish a book, if he finished it at all.“

She smiled slightly. “Sounds a little like real work.“

“Yeah. That’s exactly what it is.“

“Well, that certainly ruins the image, doesn’t it? Can I read what you’ve written?“

“If you like.“

She stepped closer and peered down at the screen. He felt her tension as she recognized the setting.

“That’s our cave dream you’re writing,“ she whispered.

“Not quite. It’s a modern story. Our dreams seem to involve that old legend about the Chained Lady. But I’ll admit there are some similarities. I told you soon after I met you that I got the idea for this story from my dreams and from memories of the first night I spent in Chained Lady Cave.“

“You said that the experience terrified you as nothing else ever had,“ Diana said musingly. “You also told me once that you knew the writing was going well when your fantasies scared even you.“

Colby shrugged. “That’s right.“

“Colby, how is it going to end?“ she asked tensely. “Have you dreamed the ending?“

“No.“ He grinned briefly. “That would be too easy. Writers never get off that easily. But I’ve got a feeling about it, and I can structure the last part of the plot based on it.“

“Banner has to rescue the heroine, right? She’s trapped in the grotto?“

“Right.“

“Have you decided what it is that’s menacing her?“ Diana asked.

“Just a standard, run-of-the-mill cave monster.“

“Colby, please. Tell me the truth.“

He caught the thread of fear in her voice and was instantly contrite. “Hey, take it easy, honey. The villain is something of my own creation, not something from our dreams. I told you, all I got from the dream was an idea, a feeling of fear that I can translate into a fantasy and a setting.“

“You’re sure you haven’t seen something in our dreams? A real monster? Colby, if you have, you’ve got to tell me.“

“No. If I had, I wouldn’t have to work so hard to think one up.“

But he didn’t want to tell her the rest. He didn’t want to explain how the sense of menace from the cave was stronger in his dreams these days. The desperate, pleading longing from the hidden grotto was still present but the danger in the outer cave was becoming the main component of his dreams. If that overwhelming feeling of threat got much more intense, Colby knew the dreams would cross the boundary from disturbing to nightmarish.

“I should let you get back to work.“ Diana took a step back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.“

“Don’t worry about it. Want some hot chocolate?“ He got to his feet.

“If you’re going to have some.“ She traipsed after him as he headed for the kitchen. “When I woke up and found you gone, I got a little nervous, I guess.“

He stopped and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “That just shows how well you’re adjusting.“

“Adjusting to what?“

“Married life. You’re getting used to sleeping with me on a regular basis. You’re getting so accustomed to it that now you feel strange when you’re alone in bed.“ He opened the refrigerator. Specter trotted over and stood perusing the contents with him.

“Colby?“ Diana sat down at the kitchen table and tucked her feet into the warmth of her robe.

“Yeah?“

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you earlier when I told you I loved you.“

He went still for a second and then forced himself to continue preparing the hot chocolate. He reached for the milk.

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t embarrass me. You were, what’s the old-fashioned term? Overwrought. As I said, pregnant ladies tend to be emotional. Remember that last book I brought home from the library? The one that talked about mood swings in the early months of pregnancy?“

“You think that’s what happened to me today? I went through a mood swing and got overly emotional?“

She sounded as though she might get angry again. Colby tried to soothe her. “You’ve been through a lot lately.“

“Not enough to addle my wits completely,“ she said tartly. “Besides, I knew I was in love with you weeks ago.

Why in hell do you think I went to bed with you the first time or all the times after that, including that night in the cave?“

Colby stopped stirring the hot milk. “Diana, you never said anything about love.“

“Of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t have said anything today, either, if I’d been in control of myself. Colby, I really hate this feeling of being out of control. You don’t know how hard it is for me to accept that my whole life is running wild and that there’s not much I can do about it.“

Colby turned around, his own emotions suddenly precarious. Diana was staring out the window at the city lights, her chin cradled on her palm. She was idly stroking Specter with her other hand. Her tawny hair was tumbled around her shoulders and her bare feet gave her an air of sweet vulnerability. She looked like a very forlorn little amazon tonight, he thought. He wondered if she had any idea of how far he would go to protect her.

“Diana, you don’t have to tell yourself you’re in love.“

“Why not? We’re married.“ Her head came around, her eyes searching his face. “And we’re going to stay married, aren’t we? At least for the foreseeable future?“

“You’re damned right we’re going to stay married.“ He heard the harsh certainty in his own voice.

“Then where’s the harm in my telling you I love you?“

“The
harm
lies in the fact that you might wind up fooling yourself and me as well.“

Her eyes widened. “You don’t believe me, do you?“

He ran his hand through his hair. “Diana, listen to me. You’ve been under too much stress lately. I’ve explained to you that at this stage of your pregnancy you’re going to go through a whole range of emotions. It’s all right. You’re not responsible for them. I just don’t want you to say things you’ll regret later.“

“The milk’s burning.“

“We’re both adults, Diana,“ he went on seriously. “We don’t need to feed each other the kind of silly romantic fiction teenagers need in order to justify having sex. We’ve got all we need for a solid marriage. There’s no point in inventing a fantasy to romanticize our physical attraction.“

“You’d better do something about the milk. It’s burning.“

“What?“ He stared at her, feeling acutely stupid.

“I said the milk’s burning.“ She got to her feet. “Never mind. I don’t want any hot chocolate now, anyway. I’m going back to bed. Good luck with your book.“

She yawned and padded out of the kitchen. Specter trailed after her.

Colby whirled around as the smell of burned milk finally got through to him.

“Damn it to hell.“ He dropped the sizzling pan into the sink and stood glowering at the black, gooey mass of burned milk. He realized he had a violent urge to put his fist through the nearest wall.

Diana wasn’t the only one whose emotions were running too close to the surface these days.

Half an hour later, he realized he wasn’t going to get any more done on
Blood Mist
that night. He knew where he wanted to go with the story, but his mood had been shattered. All he could think about was Diana lying alone in her bed.

With a small, disgusted exclamation, he turned off the computer and headed back down the hall to the bedroom.

Specter raised his big head from his paws briefly as Colby walked silently into the room. Then the dog went back to sleep.

Colby stepped out of his jeans and walked over to the bed. Summer moonlight mixed with the background glow of a city at night played over Diana’s sheet-covered body. He could see the lush sweep of her hip and the gentle curve of her breasts.

Her breasts had become tender lately, Colby reminded himself. He was very careful now when he caressed her there or took one of her nipples into his mouth.

He pulled back the sheet and eased into bed beside Diana. She turned toward him, seeking his warmth. Colby gathered her close, aware of the deep pleasure and satisfaction he experienced in knowing she sought him instinctively in her sleep.

He was old enough to know that love between a man and a woman was a fancy word designed for arrogant, self-indulgent teenagers who were driven by their hormones. He’d learned everything he needed to know about love at the age of nineteen. At forty, he was finally figuring out what he really needed and wanted in a woman. Diana could give those things to him and he would do his best to make her happy in return. If they both worked at it, they could make the marriage work. They didn’t need to play word games.

But as his hand stroked slowly over her thigh, Colby wondered if perhaps she had a point. Where was the harm in letting her tell him that she loved him?

Perhaps it reassured her to say it. Women, even intelligent, mature women, sometimes liked the emotional trappings of romance. If she wanted to believe she was in love with him, if it helped her justify the situation into which she had been dropped and which clearly terrified her, who was he to deny her that simple relief?

“I thought you were going to write the rest of
Blood Mist
tonight?“ Diana murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

“Ill finish it tomorrow.“ He drew the sheet slowly down to her waist and bent his head to kiss the peak of one breast. He was exquisitely careful with his teeth and his tongue, and his reward was the way Diana sighed and shifted in his arms.

“What is this? Am I a substitute for burned hot chocolate?“ she asked with sleepy amusement.

“You’re not a substitute for anything, sweetheart. You’re you. And when I want you, nothing else will do.“ He brushed his fingertips through the silky fur below her softly curving belly.

She stretched slowly and languorously, her leg sliding between his. Her fingertips traveled down his chest to the hard shape of his waiting manhood. Colby sucked in his breath as she stroked him gently. He lifted his head to capture her mouth. She parted her lips for him as she always did, assuring him once more of his welcome. She never failed to make him feel wanted, more wanted than he’d ever felt in his whole life.

“Diana?“

“Hmm?“

“Tell me you love me.“

She stilled in his arms. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Why?“

“Because you’re right. We’re married. There’s no harm in the words and I think I like hearing them.“

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to say the words back to me?“ she asked.

He hesitated and then made his decision. “I’ll say them, if you want me to. If it makes you happy.“

“I’d like that,“ she whispered. “I’d like that very much. I love you, Colby.“

“I love you.“ The words felt very rusty in his mouth.

“I think you need practice.“

“I haven’t said those words for twenty years, and I was wrong then.“

“Practice makes perfect.“

“If you say so.“

Three months later Diana walked into the apartment with the basket of clean laundry she had just finished doing in the basement laundry room. She could barely get the door open, her hands were trembling so badly.

Colby came out of the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hand, and stopped abruptly.
“Diana.
What the hell’s the matter, honey? You’re as white as a sheet. Here, sit down. Do you feel faint?“ He put down the mug and came quickly across the room to take the basket of laundry. “I told you to wait until I could help you with the laundry.“