do. Don’t you have nightmares?”
“Everyone does.” Bram raised his cup to his lips and took in the truly glorious sight of Jenna Elliot sitting across from him at his very own table, with her golden hair loose and disarrayed around her beautiful face. Her robe was blue and he could see the neckline of a white gown beneath that. But it was very easy to envision her lush body under the gown. That’s the real reason you stayed in here instead of running back to your room the second you saw her—just to soak up the sight of her. Admit it!
“Were monsters chasing you?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could manage.
“Monsters?” Jenna couldn’t help smiling, and decided that he really must be curious about her nightmare, which was curious in itself. So why not tell him about it? At least they were talking, which just might qualify as a small miracle. “I guess there could have been monsters, but I don’t recall seeing any. I was in a strange place—a rural setting—and I was walking down a dirt road. There were a few trees and I was wearing a red dress. Now, that’s odd,” she interjected thoughtfully. “I hardly ever wear red, and I don’t even own a red dress.” She paused for a swallow of cocoa.
“Anyhow, I could see a hill ahead of me and I began walking up it. It became steeper and steeper until I was clutching at the ground with my hands to keep from falling.” She looked at Bram. “That’s it.”
“What scared you about that?”
“The fear of falling, I guess.”
“Sounds to me like you might be afraid of reaching the pinnacle of something you’ve been trying to attain.”
Jenna felt a wave of heat wash through her. He was the pinnacle, if there was any accuracy in his interpretation.
“When did you become an interpreter of dreams?” she asked pertly.
He grinned, surprising Jenna and melting her bones at the same time. Lord, he was handsome when he wasn’t scowling! “Learned it at my great-granddaddy’s knee,” he said.
“George WhiteBear taught you how to read dreams?”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“No, but Willow’s talked about him. His age is incredible.”
“Ninety-seven is pretty incredible, all right. He says he will live to be a hundred and five. I can’t doubt it.”
“Does he still live alone and take care of himself?”
“He does.” Bram frowned suddenly. “I expected Gran to have a long and healthy life, too. That stroke was a shock.”
“For the whole family, apparently.” Jenna couldn’t believe it. They were actually having a normal conversation.
“I’ve got to drive out to George’s place and tell him about Gran,” Bram said, sounding as though he were talking more to himself than to Jenna.
“He doesn’t know?”
“I didn’t want to alarm him without cause. After what you told me earlier tonight, I think I’d better go out there very soon. I’m sure he’ll want to see Gran.”
Jenna’s heart sank. “And what I said to you tonight is the reason you’re not able to sleep. Do you understand that I only said what was necessary?”
“I don’t understand a damn thing. She was always a live wire. What causes a stroke, anyhow? Why was she struck down like that?”
“Would you like me to explain the medical causes of strokes?”
“No.” Bram turned his head, reminding Jenna of Gloria both from the action and from their physical similarities. “Hearing a bunch of medical terms I probably wouldn’t comprehend isn’t going to make me accept Gran’s affliction. She doesn’t deserve what she’s going through, Jenna.”
“I know she doesn’t,” Jenna said quietly, although a part of her rejoiced that her name had rolled off his tongue as though he said it all the time. She lifted her eyes and met his, and for the first time ever she thought she saw something personal gleaming in their black depths. Her pulse rate quickened, and when he suddenly looked away again her breath stopped as though trapped in her throat.
To alleviate the sensation she got up and brought her cup to the sink. She heard Bram getting up, too, and then felt him behind her.
“Just forming a line to rinse my cup,” he said.
But he was standing a lot closer to her than he had to, and again Jenna couldn’t breathe normally. “I—I’ll only…be a minute,” she stammered. “Give me your cup. I can take care of it and you can go back to, uh, bed.”
He reached around her and put his cup in the sink in front of her, and she felt his long muscular body against her back.
“Jenna,” he whispered, and placed his hands on the counter on each side of her. Her mind could hardly digest what was happening. He had never, ever touched her, not once, and now his entire body was pressed against hers and his arms were virtually enclosing her within a very sensual circle.
She didn’t think, just reacted. Dropping her cup in the sink, she swung around, at the same moment raising her arms to his neck. She leaned into him and his arms tightened around her. She turned her face up and silently begged for his kiss, and he didn’t disappoint her. His lips touched hers gingerly, then, in the next heartbeat, almost roughly. It was her fantasy come true, or at least the beginning of it.
She opened her mouth under his and kissed him back with all the desire she’d kept bottled up for so long. She knew she would do anything he wanted; all he had to do to get everything he could possibly want from a woman was to keep on holding her and kissing her.
She moved against him, an involuntary action caused by total surrender to Bram’s will. She felt his hands moving on her back, up and down, and finally stopping on her bottom. The groan she heard deep in his throat as he cupped her buttocks excited her further, and she brought her hands down from his neck to explore his chest. More than his chest was hard, though, and that was the most exciting thing of all. He wanted her. He couldn’t hide his desire or pretend it didn’t exist, not when the proof of his feelings pressed into her abdomen. She was so thrilled and elated that she mumbled between kisses, “Wait…wait. Let me get out of some of these clothes.”
He inched away from her and watched her shed the robe and let it drop to the floor around her feet. His black eyes devoured the sight of her in a rather sheer white nightgown with tiny straps, standing in front of him with all that long, golden hair draped over her shoulders.
“You are the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said raggedly.
“Oh, Bram, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” she whispered. And then fear gripped her, for something in what she’d said caused him to begin withdrawing before her very eyes.
He touched her cheek gently. “We can’t do this.”
She had no shame, not now, not when they’d been so close to something meaningful. “Why not?” she whispered.
“I think you know why not.”
Jenna
