The Reading Garden - Arabesque
Important notice: All excerpts have been submitted by the author.
Author: Shirley Hailstock
The clock chimed midnight in the distance before Erika climbed the
stairs that night. At the landing that separated her wing of the
house from the one Michael used, she stopped and turned back. She
hadn't really looked at the house in years. Tonight she turned before
the stain glass window and surveyed the bottom floor. Life had been
different since Michael had come, but she'd become used to his
presence, his habits, even his bouts with nightmares.
Tomorrow they would add different elements to the household. Even
though they wouldn't have a bodyguard immediately, it was only a
matter of time if Frank Mason really wanted Michael dead. She, too,
would have to accept one if she insisted Michael take on one. Erika
didn't know how she felt about having a stranger around all the time.
She put her hand on the large newel post and stared into the
semi-darkness. For so many years it had been Carlton and her. The
servants maintained the household, kept the grounds and cooked the
meals. While Erika knew them intimately, they'd been there for years
and she was used to their presence. Then Michael had come on the
heels of Carlton's death. Somehow he had a connection to the house.
Strangers -- she didn't know what to make of them. Someone always
with her, protecting her from possible harm. She shivered in the warm
air.
Moments later she sighed, accepting that change was part of life.
Carlton was gone and she never thought she'd be able to get over the
hurt his death caused, but she was doing fine. Then Michael's
presence had forced a change in her routine. She smiled to herself.
She couldn't say she hated the routine. Day by day he'd wormed his
way into her heart until the thought of him could take her breath
away.
Maybe having more people around would give her something else to
concentration on and she could get her emotions in order.
She glanced in the direction of her room, but saw something move
from the corner of her eye and turned toward Michael's wing. He stood
at the top of the stairs dressed in a silk robe. Erika opened her
mouth to speak, but her throat went so dry she couldn't. The hallway
behind Michael was dark and she couldn't see his face. She wanted to
move, run, but something wouldn't let her, wouldn't let her breathe.
The memory of another night came back to her. She knew the robe.
She'd seen it before lying at the foot of his bed during one of his
nightmares. Yet she'd never seen him wearing it. It was the dream,
her dream or what she thought was a dream. Had it been?
"You were in my room," she stated it as fact as if he'd been part
of her private thoughts.
Michael started down the stairs. Erika took a step back when he
reached the bottom rung.
"Yes," he said softly. "I needed to know you were safe."
"Safe from what?" she whispered, feeling anything but safe at the
moment.
Stepping off the last stair bought him with touching, smelling,
heating distance to her. She ought to move back. The thought came
and went. His hands slipped around her waist. Erika didn't think to
protest. Indeed it was the most natural thing that had ever happened
to her. Heat swept through her blouse where his hands touched her and
instantly her entire body became an incinerator. She didn't know what
kept her from dissolving into a puddle of chocolate syrup at Michael's
feet.
Michael took a step closer to her. Erika's eyes were fastened to
his collar-bone. She swallowed and looked up. Light filtering
through the stain glass crossed his face with planes of blue and
yellow. The garish light turned his features into harsh lines giving
him a sinister look. The dimension increased Erika's excitement.
She'd never felt so hungry for a man. His eyes were dark with
passion. The heat of his body mingled with hers, cocooning them in a
world only they could create. His arms slid around her, pulling her
length into contact with his. Every part of them touched, arms to
arms, breasts to breasts, thigh to thigh. Everything made contact
except their lips.
"If you don't kiss me, I'm going to die." ©1997
***
*About the author: Shirley Hailstock is a best-selling, award-winning author whose novels have appeared on the Library Journal Best Seller List, won the HOLT Medallion, and the Heart of the West Award. Her debut novel, Whispers
of Love, was published in 1994. This romantic suspense is now in its
4th printing and recently sold to television. Shirley's most recent
release, White Diamonds, is currently available and her next book,
Legacy, will be released in July, 1997. Write to Shirley Hailstock. Visit Shirley Hailstock's home page.
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