The Gypsy King (28 page)
understanding that many of her neighbors and friends began to see the traveling strangers in a new light.
It was after two in the morning when the last couple departed. Veronique made sure she stayed by the door and talked with each and every one as they left for home. She had never enjoyed a celebration so much.
Later, in bed again, fireworks splashed light and sound across the walls, ceiling and floor of their room. As they laughed and talked about the party and their adventures, Veronique rested her head on Ahndray’s chest. She listened to his voice reverberate through his heart and lungs.
As if by magic, Ahndray reached behind his
head and, from underneath his pillow, produced a small, square velvet box. Veronique’s heart skipped a beat as she opened it slowly and saw the ring. It was a thick, gold band and she sucked in a deep breath because she recognized it
immediately. The ring’s intricate engraving caught the colorful lights of the evening and shimmered, sending shafts of color in what seemed like thousands of different directions. She pulled it 286
Morgan Rush
closer to her eyes and knew that each cut had been made by hand by a master craftsman. “Oh, merde!
Where did you get this ring, Ahndray? It is beautiful!” She felt the room start spinning and she hoped she was hiding her confusion and a little bit of fear.
But Ahndray looked calm and serene, beaming with pride. “When I was in the hospital,
Veronique, many people came to see me, but I was so drugged and in pain that I don’t remember much. It feels like I spent a month in a mist-filled dream. Anyway, in one of my dreams I saw a
man. Well, the figure of a man. I know it was a man because he smelled like a man, you know, roasted nuts, hazelnuts, ginger…and fire, like a campfire. Definitely a man. Anyway, my vision was hazy, but he was talking to me and I couldn’t understand him. I thought he must be from
another country and I was trying to think of where I knew him from, or if I knew him at all, but all I could understand was him saying I was going to be fine and I would soon be better and seeing stars again, whatever that means.”
He smiled. “Shooting stars. He talked about the sky and traveling, but I never felt scared or anything, he was just
there
. Anyway, I finally came out of my drug-induced fog and I felt it
immediately. I looked down at my hand and there it was. This gold band was on my smallest finger.
In the back of my mind, I heard his voice again 287
The Gypsy King
and knew you were still alive, Veronique. I didn’t know how, or where, but I knew you were alive and you were safe. I kept it next to my heart until I got out of the hospital. I’ve had it with me ever since, and I just knew it was meant for you.”
Without hesitation he pulled Veronique’s hand up to his and carefully slid the regal band onto her wedding finger.
It fit perfectly.
Veronique stared at it incredulously, fingered it a few times and spun it around, trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. The room
suddenly felt very small and hot. Off in the distance, Veronique thought she could hear the rustling of campfires and the hypnotic music of her gypsy family crossing the French countryside.
She closed her eyes and smelled the morning’s strong black coffee. She heard her urchins yelling and laughing as they ran in the fields and among the olive trees. She watched sunrises and sunsets and felt the nights whisk by full of celebration and love for life.
And there, standing around the biggest
campfire, were Nanosh, Isabella and Diego. They looked at her with smiles, but Veronique couldn’t tell if they were beckoning her, or saying goodbye.
He was there, too, standing proudly behind them.
With his arms spread out behind them like
eagle’s wings, the Gypsy King held them in a protective embrace and smiled. His weathered, 288
Morgan Rush
handsome face grinned at her and, as quickly as Ahndray reached up and kissed the fading scar on her strong, independent jaw, they each
disappeared in a flash of smoke and wind.
“It’s perfect, Ahndray.” It was all she needed to say for now and they hugged each other tightly as a warm wind caressed them through the open
window. Veronique climbed up to his neck, kissed him and laid next to him with her face pressing comfortably against his as they stared out into the night. The Bastille Day celebration was still lighting the night with color.
“So, my love, tell me about the elephants in Bangladesh again. And how about the greenstone castles in Scotland? Are they seeing the same sky we are, Ahndray? How long before our next
adventure?”
289
About the Author
Often called salacious, sexy, and never shy, Morgan Rush is a professional writer who has been writing in the technical communication field for fifteen years with dozens of books, guides, and manuals published all around the globe in a variety of languages.
Always a believer in nurturing the whole self, Morgan is now taking his love for adventure, passion, and romance, and diving headfirst into the steamy pool of erotic romance with the simple, heartfelt goal of ‘telling an interesting story that turns people on.’
A passion for traveling and adventure has led Morgan to over seventeen countries and five continents and almost ten years living and
working overseas. He earned a Bachelor’s in English, a Master’s in Education, and is using these vibrant experiences to write erotic romance that will stir your emotions, your mind, and most important of all – your libido.
He currently divides his professional time
between writing both fiction and non-fiction from his home in sunny Tampa, Florida and is never far from his laptop, an archive of experience and desires, and lot and lots of caffeine.
A thrill-seeker by nature, Morgan unwinds
with running, mountain biking, pursuing
adventure sports, and indulging his voracious appetite for three-day weekends in favorite hot spots like Miami, Vegas, NYC, and Key West.
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