Bella jumped off the couch and meandered into the kitchen, pausing in front of the cabinets before making a beeline for her dish. Lily lifted her hand to her throat in feigned surprise. “Dare I take this to mean you’re giving me your approval?” Grinning, she pulled a saucepan out of the same cabinet then reached for the herb jars lining her counter.
…hibiscus blossoms, jasmine, rose petals, orange blossoms, mugwort…she mentally counted off the ingredients she needed. She put the herbs in the pan and covered them with water from the glass decanter on the windowsill, turning the heat on low. The mixture simmered as she shed her clothes on the way to run a hot bath.
Naked, she returned to the kitchen and took the fragrant mixture from the stove to the bathroom. Chanting under her breath, she poured the contents into the bathtub and lit the candles before easing into the steaming, perfumed water, then lay deep in silent concentration until the water cooled. After rising and drying off, she walked slowly back to the bedroom and fell back atop the sheets. She let her body relax, her eyes closing as she took a deep, cleansing breath. “Now,” Lily whispered, feeling her spirit lift, “take me to him.”
Her first impression was a dark and lush green forest, thick with trees. This can’t be right, she thought. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as a large bed with a lone, still figure lying on it swam into view. Lily moved closer for a better look, entranced by what she saw. Ian lay on his back, his long curls tangled in sensual disarray about his face and shoulders. His broad chest was bare, his lower body draped by the heavy cotton sheet. Awake, he was roguish in his charm, but asleep, his unlined face was almost boyish. Wide shoulders and long, muscular arms were bronzed from working outdoors. The slow rise and fall of his chest assured her he was sound asleep.
She moved closer and inhaled deeply, reveling in the heady combination of herbal soap and virile man. A bud of heat formed in her chest and spread like wildfire, across her stomach then straight down to between her thighs. She gave a whimper at the unfamiliar pulsation and his head tilted slightly toward her as if in response. Teasing the dark curls on his chest, she allowed her fingertips to trace the trail of fine hair leading down to the thick nest of amber curls peeking from the top of the emerald sheets.
If he were to move, I don’t think I could stand it, Lily thought, rather hoping he would. She touched him lightly on the cheek then slowly ran her right hand down his neck. He sighed and that small sound encouraged her to be bolder, feather her fingertips along his shoulder, his chest. His skin rippled with gooseflesh when she ran her hand down the thick cords of his abdomen toward the lighter skin now visible low on his hips. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain it was going to wake him.
I sooo shouldn’t be doing this, she admonished herself, but her left hand had developed a mind of its own. It was busy running amok, gliding her fingers up the full length of his long leg, lingering on his muscular thigh.
“Lily…” Ian whispered and for the first time, Lily noticed the scarf he still held. She touched a fingertip to his lips and he gave it a soft kiss, melting her insides with his gentleness.
He’s dreaming of me, she realized, her hand continuing on its path and coming to rest–completely by accident, she later assured herself–on the marble hardness beneath the sheet. They both inhaled sharply and Ian’s eyes flew open, searching the room wildly. Lily was snatched back through space to her own room, and when she opened her eyes again, she shivered from the sudden cold. “He was dreaming of me.” She sighed and curling up under her covers, fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
* * * *
Ian awoke around ten the following morning and began making plans for a productive day, starting with clearing the pending correspondence gathering dust on his desk. He stood by the sink in his kitchen eating a piece of cold pizza but the thought of Lily’s hands on his body wouldn’t leave his mind. That was far too real to have been a dream, he mused, but what else could it have been? He found himself walking into his bedroom and falling back against the downy comforter. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he could still smell the faint, intoxicating blend of rose and hibiscus petals and…mugwort? Astral travel? Who in the feckin’ hell… He sniffed again and caught a hint of the familiar lavender. No…she couldn’t have…could she? I have to know, he decided.
It was only ten thirty but he called her anyway, his tone serious. “I have found I cannot wait until Wednesday to see you. I was thinking of taking a drive down to Sarasota for some art supplies and wondered if you’d like to keep me company.”
There wasn’t even a pretense of a pause. “Sounds like fun–what time?”
“One hour,” he said.
He arrived a few minutes early, comfortable in faded blue jeans and a dark gray knit pullover. Although the October sun was warm, the breeze was brisk. She opened the door, wearing snug stretch jeans and a fuzzy chenille sweater that matched the color of her eyes. Why this feeling of awkwardness, as he stood there staring at her? Color climbed her cheeks while she held his gaze, so she must have felt it too.
“Come in,” Lily said, inexplicably flustered. “I’m almost ready.”
“I’m early, I think,” he apologized, taking a seat on the couch. Having heard his voice, Bella came running and cannonballed into his lap.
Lily was ready to go in moments, and disentangling himself from the cat, Ian excused himself to the restroom before they left. Once inside, he leaned his back against the door and inhaled the heady scent of the herbal mixture from the night before, confirming his suspicions. Ah, pretty cailleach, there is much more to you than meets the eye. He chuckled. That’s one question answered. He scanned the bathroom vanity and spied Lily’s plastic package of birth control pills. And there’s another. He sighed with relief.
* * * *
It was a beautiful autumn day with fat white clouds chasing each other across the azure sky. The drive took just over an hour but lost in animated conversation with Ian, the time passed as if on wings. At the art store, she and Ian were greeted upon arrival by a distinguished gentleman with a British accent. “Mr. Kelly, always a delight, sir. We’ve gotten some new oils I think you might find interesting…” He set off at a trot toward the back of the store.
Entranced with the unfamiliar surroundings, Lily was already moving forward to browse a selection of unframed art. Ian glanced at the man then back to her, obviously torn. “Would you mind…” he asked.
“Go ahead, I’ll just look around,” she said, waving him on.
Ian tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in question. Lily laughed. “I’ll be fine unless…nothing here is dangerous, right?” she asked with a straight face.
“Shouldn’t be, but should you get cornered by some wild brushes, scream and I’ll come running.” With a snort of amusement, he turned and followed the older man down the aisle.
I should have paid more attention in art class, Lily realized as she wandered up and down the rows of pads, brushes and paints, I’m not even sure what half of this stuff is. She rounded a large display of charcoal pencils and gasped at the breathtaking mural of a seascape painted on the back wall of the store. Billowy clouds floated near the top, and the waves were dotted with bright sails of windsurfers. So realistic, she could almost hear the cries of the laughing gulls and the brown pelicans floating on the salty breeze of the Gulf.
“Can I help you find something?” asked a young woman wearing a name tag and apron.
“Just looking, thanks.” She smiled and indicated the mural. “This is magnificent. Local artist?”
The clerk pointed two aisles down where Ian stood deep in conversation with the owner. “That’s him right there, miss, the man in the gray shirt.”
Ian’s face brightened when he turned and saw her. “Ready?” he asked, tucking