“I knocked,” he said quickly as if she might think he hadn’t. “When you didn’t answer I got worried and used my key.”
Ildaria had enough wit to realize the sound of the shower must have kept her from hearing the knock, but that was all thewit she had at the moment. G.G. hadn’t been this close to her in quite a while, not since shortly after the shared dreamshad started. That was when real contact between them had stopped. She didn’t remember being affected by his nearness likethis before the dreams, but right now she was experiencing a strange . . . awareness. That was the only way she could thinkto describe it. It was like the very cells in her body were all suddenly wide awake and hopping about inside her with a strangeexcitement that turned to horrible disappointment when he suddenly began to back away and then turned toward the door saying,“I should go. Good night.”
Ildaria was so stunned by the abruptness of his retreat that she might have let him go, except she was still holding H.D. G.G. was leaving without his dog. He was also muttering something under his breath. Even with her superior hearing, all she caught was what sounded like “turning into a bloody pervert.”
“They’re shared dreams,” she blurted.
G.G. paused at the mouth of the short hall to the door, but didn’t turn or say anything. He just stood as if frozen.
Ildaria hesitated briefly, and then licked her lips and said to his back, “You’re a possible life mate for me, G.G., and you’vebeen experiencing shared dreams. I’ve been with you for every one.”
That did make him turn, but his eyes were doubting. “You weren’t—it didn’t feel like you were there.”
“I know. Sofia said you were sure you were alone,” she said quietly.
“She knows I hate it when she reads my mind,” G.G. complained with irritation.
“She probably wasn’t trying to read your mind,” Ildaria said quickly, not wanting him to be angry with Sofia when she hadonly been trying to help. “Marguerite says new life mates tend to have an issue keeping their thoughts to themselves. Shesays it’s like we are screaming our thoughts, that no reading is needed at all.”
He grunted at that, and then said with uncertainty, “Were you really sharing the dreams?”
“Si,” she assured him. “But I was—I just—I let you take the lead because . . .” She swallowed, surprised to feel little prickles of heat ride up the back of her neck and head and sweat start under her arms. She hadn’t expected this to be so hard. Finally, she simply said, “I don’t have the experience to take the lead when it comes to sex, so I just let you control the dreams. But I was there.” She paused briefly and then added, “The first dream took place in your office. On the desk.”
When he just stared at her, she added, “I can’t remember which dream came next but last night’s involved chains.” When hecontinued to stare blankly, she added, “But they’ve taken place everywhere. There were others in the office, some here inmy apartment, some in yours, some in every room of the Night Club, at the beach, in the dressing room of a clothing store,and some in England I think. At least, it was somewhere I’ve never been before and there were people there with English accents.”
G.G.’s shoulders sagged and Ildaria knew he believed her even before he said, “It was the Night Club in England.”
“Oh,” she said softly, but was recalling the rooms she’d seen in the dreams there and thinking the man had good taste. TheNight Club in England was as impressive as this one, if not more. The rooms were more . . . posh, she supposed was the bestdescription. More sedate, old-fashioned class, fit for Lords and Ladies, similar to the room the dream had taken place inlast night. But the other rooms here were more relaxed. It made her wonder if there were more relaxed rooms in the Night Clubin England as well that she just hadn’t yet seen.
“So . . .”
Ildaria shifted her attention back to G.G. to see the frown on his face.
“You were sharing the dreams but not really contributing to them because you lack experience,” he murmured. “You’re over twohundred years old and still a . . . ?”
“I’m not a virgin,” Ildaria said stiffly. “I’m just inexperienced.”
She wasn’t surprised to see the confusion on his expression, but it wasn’t something she could clear up quickly. Straighteningher shoulders, she said, “We need to talk. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”
G.G. hesitated, his gaze flickering downward briefly before returning to her face. “Better yet, I will make the hot chocolatewhile you change into something . . .” Grimacing, he said, “Just go put some clothes on or talking won’t be what we do.”
Ildaria glanced down. H.D. was cuddled between her breasts, leaving her bra on display. It was a very old bra, embarrassinglyold, and it was so thin that—wet as it was—it was as see-through as that veil nightie would have been. Ildaria felt her faceflush with heat, but refused to let her embarrassment show otherwise and lifted her chin defiantly as she muttered, “Fine.I’ll be right back.”
Turning on her heel then, she headed for her room. Ildaria had the brief concern that he might flee once she was out of sight, but H.D.’s squirming to a more comfortable position in her arms had her relaxing. The man might want to flee now that he knew they were possible life mates, but he wouldn’t go without H.D. This was an instance where “man’s best friend,” was true. Because that man loved his dog.
The minute Ildaria set H.D. on the bed, the fur ball dove headfirst into the pillows and then dragged himself across her blankets,doing his best to dry himself.
Shaking her
