Hopefully, this chapter will make everyone happy. Have a safe Memorial Day.
Remember our heroes...our men and women in the armed forces, police force, fire and rescue, and the emergency medical personnel...remember those men and woman from around the world that have fought beside Americans, comrades in arms, against tyranny and injustice - wherever it may rear its ugly head - and have...when it was asked of them...given all that they had to give...
ALL GAVE SOME...BUT SOME GAVE ALL...FALLEN BUT NOT FORGOTTEN.
My youngest son, Matthew, graduated from high school yesterday with honors. He has been accepted into the prestiges nuclear program with the United States Navy, and would like to pursue a career in law someday. I thank my Lord and Savior every day for the blessing that my children have been, are, and will continue to be, to me.
Today, my oldest son turns 22...he is struggling with life decisions and where God would have him be and how he will have the money to do what he feels called to do.
My middle son will be getting married in a month, and - despite the fact that he knows it was wrong in accordance to our belief system, which is founded in the Bible - they are also going to have a baby. A baby...another wonderful blessing from God.
If any of you are praying people, I ask your prayers for my family as we face some changing times. Thanks for listening.
DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 36
Annette's words hung in the air as they watched him reach the top of the stairs without glancing back. Once he disappeared behind his door, Raoul heaved a large sigh.
"He held D'Ombre while he died…and I do not think he has allowed himself to fully grieve yet…"
Lavanya nodded her agreement and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"I will give him a little while…he values his solitude; but I will not allow him to grieve alone, I promise you."
Her tone was unwavering but ruled by a softness that glistened in the tears that crept down her face; she centered her eyes on Tarrah and Annette, but everyone agreed. Annette smiled and offered her services.
"I will take it upon myself to hire some temporary replacements for Mr. Tibbs, Mrs. McGhee, and Mitzi…you need not bother with that."
Lavanya was thankful for this and nodded absently…still worrying about Erik's frame of mind.
♠♦♣♥
An hour later…
Tarrah sat in stunned shock, looking out the window; the doctor had come and pronounced that Erik's quick thinking had saved the lives of his staff, especially Mr. Tibbs.
"They are well-adjusted and all of them are eager to return to work…but I suggest giving them as much as a week to fully recover…" Dr. Kavanagh suggested. "…I tried to tend to Mr. Lacroix, but he was quite adamant about not allowing me into the room."
FLASHBACK
"Monsieur Lacroix…I am Dr. Gerard Kavanagh; your wife sent me up here to check on you."
He had knocked several times, with no answer, but he decided to try one more time.
"Monsieur Lacroix…"
"Go Away!!" Came a bellowing, strained voice, "I have no need of doctors!"
"Monsieur Lacroix…your wife is concerned…"
The deafening silence seemed more frightening than the booming baritone did; and Gerard heard a quiet, despairing cry.
"Please…just go away."
Gerard shook his head and surrendered to the will of the master of the house.
"You saved the lives of your staff, Monsieur; I wanted you to know that."
He walked away from the closed door, still hearing a mournful, low cry.
END FLASHBACK
Annette and Lavanya glanced at each other and nodded.
"The older lady…Mrs. McGhee…was quite concerned about Monsieur Lacroix…despite her own injuries."
Tarrah smiled and laughed gently.
"Blanche is very dedicated and thinks of him as a son…her only child – a daughter – died some years back of typhoid fever…Erik is all she has."
They saw the Doctor out and then joined the others in the parlor. The discussions had been quiet and full of grievous heaviness at first, but they began to speculate on the events that had occurred.
"Who would do such a horrible thing?" Annette asked, capturing everyone attention.
Raoul shook his head and scoffed, "He says he knows who did this…and will kill them himself…." Everyone scowled upon hearing this and Raoul shrugged his shoulders. "…I do not blame him…he fears that D'Ombre's torture was just a warning and that Lavanya is the real target."
"What if he is the target?" Lavanya stated, speaking loudly and authoritatively. "What if he is the one they are after and this was done just to get his concern focused on me?"
Her anger was beginning for flare and she was not going to stand by helplessly as some maniac threatened her husband…she would die defending him.
Raoul saw the determined glare in her eyes and realized how like Erik she was. She was strong and fearless…her passion for her husband was her driving force and she would stop at nothing to accomplish her goals.
"He thinks it is Pieter." Raoul finally revealed, "Pieter and some unknown accomplice."
"Pieter?" Everyone in the room said the name at the same time…except Lavanya.
"He is dead…the papers said so." Tarrah was not ready to accept the fact that there had been a mistake made in the identification process.
Raoul leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, raised this entwined hands to his thin lips, and furrowed his brow.
"I trust Erik's instincts – they are more developed and highly trained than anyone's and he is emphatic about it."
"What are we going to do about it?" Lavanya asked as she stood up. "Something needs to be done…and soon…." She headed toward the door and then turned to dismiss them, "…I hope I do not appear rude, but I have a husband that needs me and he is my priority…please show yourselves out."
Raoul stood, helped Christine to her feet, and they walked toward the door leading out, "I will call on Erik tomorrow – late afternoon…around six o'clock; he will be playing poker with me, my brother Phillip, and Phillip's musical friend Nikolai, from Russia….we will discuss some strategic moves at that time."
He stepped forward and lifted her hand to his lips for a polite kiss, "He told me that his love is like a poison…killing everyone that he loves…" he patted her hand and smiled, "…he will try to push you away…" his serious eyes held a glint of mischief, "…do not let him."
He tipped the hat he had just put on his head, took Christine's elbow, opened the door, and they were gone.
♠♦♥♣
He had been alone for over an hour and Lavanya felt she needed to be with him. She eased up the stairs as quickly as she could and made her way toward his bedroom…which she intended to share with him from this night on...making it their bedroom.
The door was not open, but a slight turn of the knob solved that problem and she opened it just wide enough for her to fit through.
The room was massive; populated very beautifully with equally massive furniture. The room was not the dark haven she had expected it to be…it was rather inviting and seemed to welcome her has she walked upon the plush carpet that covered the floor.
Light cream-colored walls were decorated with various pieces of artwork…some personal works of his and a collection of pieces from his various travels. The wood trim around the windows, the border around the ceiling and the baseboards were all natural, dark mahogany with inlaid carvings in intricate designs; she loved the room – it was as elegantly masculine as Erik was.
She heard the sloshing of water and walked directly toward the washroom door, noticing that it had been left ajar about three inches.
Erik rested in the tub; his head falling back over the rim, and his dark hair creating a cascade of water drops onto the floor. His eyes were closed, and even through the droplets of bath water, she could see that he had been crying.
Even now, with his eyes closed, tears rolled down the side of his face, crossing his temple and rolling into his hairline.
From the looks of it, he had not been in the tub long, but had taken his grief and anger out on the walls before succumbing to the need to be clean.
She saw straight lines of blood oozing down the wall and knew that he had slammed his fist against the hardness; perhaps for no other reason than to know that he still had the ability to feel.
She found the sight of his bloodied hand, clutching the side of the tub, to be too much and quietly moved the door enough to allow her entrance.
He startled and raised the dark wing of his brow – no one had ever entered the washroom while he was in such a state – who was he kidding – no one had entered his washroom – period.
"Erik…?"
His whispered name on her breath reached his ears and he raised his head off the tub; he did not look at her, but his head turned slightly in the direction of her voice.
"As you can see, I am fine…" he turned his head and lifted his proud chin, "…you may leave."
She heard the stubborn resentment in his voice and the masculine need to be in control at all times; but he felt out of control for the moment…and it was killing him.
"I have no intention of leaving…"
Her tone should have amused him, but his heart was torn in two and he could not find it within himself to smile.
"I am not very good company right now…"
He reached for the towel that was on the floor and glared at her. She turned from him and he stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel securely around his waist. He walked past her, without looking at her, and headed into the bedroom.
Her eyes roved over his masculine figure; admiring the broad back, narrow hips and backside, and slim waist – but noticing the play of muscles hidden beneath the surface…he was built like a predator – lithe and lethal.
"You do not have to be the strong one all the time…lean on me this time."
He stopped mid-stride; it had been a very long time since anyone had wanted to be there for him…how he wished he could allow her to be.
He turned slightly and spoke, giving her a glimpse of his flawless profile, "Leave me, Lavanya…get as far away from me as you can…it is what is best for you."
She surged upon him, getting directly in front of him and staring frankly into his wounded eyes.
"You want to push me away…is that what you want?"
He jerked his head from her eyes, avoiding the mockery he knew was resting in their sea green pools.
"It does not matter what I want...it never has." he murmured.
"Erik…"
She touched her hand to his forearm, trying to draw him to her; but he yanked his arm out from under the warm touch…as though burned.
"Are you listening, woman?!" He bellowed, turning to regard her with suspicion in his eyes, "No matter what I want…you must leave and never return!"
"WHY?"
She had screamed the question at him…reacting to his brazen temper and raised voice.
He looked away from her and then turned from her completely – giving her his back. There was an almost imperceptible trembling in his shoulders and she knew he was fighting off the urge to crumble to the ground.
"Please, Anya…just leave." He finally whispered with such remorse. "Take anything and everything you need…take my world….I have no need of it anymore…" he glanced at her sadly – avoiding eye contact, "…just be happy and safe….that is all I ask."
He moved toward the bed and sat in the middle of it; the towel still snuggled against him. He moved a pillow behind him and leaned against the headboard, dropping his head and closing his eyes.
She stood her ground – not moving – until she got her answer.
"I deserve to know why you are turning away from me….why you insist on doing this."
He lifted dark, mournful eyes and shook his head.
"Because I am in love with you…" he stated softly and plainly, "…and I will not allow the fact that I am such a weak fool destroy you."
He had said the words she had longed to hear – that he had fallen in love with her despite his own reservations – despite not trusting his heart and ignoring the voices that always seemed to be echoing in his head.
She was suddenly sitting beside him, wrapping him in her arms and drawing his head into her lap. She gently moved her hands through his damp hair and played with the curls at his temples that always ignored any sign of structure and neatness.
"I tried, Anya…I really did…I did not want to love you…" he turned in her lap until his legs stretched out and hung slightly over the edge of the bed; his eyes finally resting on her lovely features, "…falling in love for me is painful and lonely. Actually…" he looked away, "…my love is a poison and anyone touched by my cursed heart is destined for tragedy."
"Erik…"
He did not acknowledge his name from her lips and continued; this time, his hand extended upward and caressed her soft cheek and a sorrowful smile rested on his lips.
"You have been a friend to me…and I am thankful to you for that."
Tears pooled and fell down the sides of his face, saturating his already damp hair with his sorrow. Lavanya soothed them away with the back of her hand, sweeping her fingers across his moist flesh and causing him to close his eyes at her touch.
"Erik…"
She rooted his face in her hands and stared down at him.
"I will get the annulment papers drawn up…you need to be free of any connection to me…" his voice was desperate and he completely ignored the furrowed brow and the stunned look on her face, "I will send you anywhere you wish to go and you will want for nothing…"
Lavanya had heard enough and the only way she was going to get his attention and keep his mind off the issues at hand, was to distract him.
Her lips claimed his and her warm, talented tongue tangled with his – immediately silencing his protests and sending his senses reeling.
She released him, only long enough for him to set up and pull her into his arms.
He kissed her this time, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her body against his…his hard, toned muscles begging to be seduced by her soft, delicious curves. He boldly traced the softness of her lips with his tongue and moaned when she opened for him.
He held her head between his hands and ravished her with building desire…he never wanted it to end; and yet, he knew it must.
They parted, each panting from awakened desire.
"Erik…you talk too much."
She slid from the bed, and began her seduction; starting with her suri. She unwrapped its long strand of material and dropped it to the floor. Every move she made was like a graceful swan barely making ripples in the water; but so breathtakingly beautiful.
Erik had eased over to the edge of the bed and sat down…watching her with deep, resplendent eyes and parted lips. He did not take his eyes off her as she slowly removed the bottom of her outfit and the undergarments beneath it.
He swallowed deeply, not believing what his eyes were seeing. She stood before him, nude from the waist down. He took in her long, gold-toned legs, the sway of her hips and dark curls that teased his eyes into seeking her most intimate part.
His body immediately went rock hard, reacting to the visual stimuli she was providing him. She did not stop there…she pulled the choli over her head, removed the undergarment and stood before him – completely nude.
He had long since lost the ability to speak, his grief had subsided to a brief glimmer, and his body was in a state of painful euphoria.
"Anya…" her name burst forth from his lips like a song…she was pure perfection – in his eyes anyway: maple-colored skin, curves in all the right places, a glow of desire in her dark azure eyes – and she was looking at him like he was the only man on earth.
"I am not here to talk." She whispered.
His eyes followed her angelic form as she moved to the side of the bed and wound her hands into his hair; she gently pushed his head into her soft belly and caressingly forked her fingers through it – relishing its thickness and softness.
His arms wound around her waist as he placed tender kisses on the soft plumpness of her tummy. He was not thinking about anything but the demands of his body. His tongue trailed over her skin and delved into the crevice of her belly button, making her hiss from the sensation.
"That reminds me….do you think I kiss my friends like I kiss you?"
He pulled back and looked up at her inquisitively; a baffled look on his own face.
"Excuse me?"
She kissed him, pushing him back and straddling his hips as she did so. He was imprisoned between her powerful thighs and the seduction of her lips - a hopeless situation where he was concerned.
The kiss was rich with seducing power and they both moaned their approval. Erik's large hands finally settled on her firm backside and squeezed the pliable flesh until she was squirming delightfully against him.
"Do you think I kiss my friends like that?" Her husky voice seduced his ears even as his lips mourned the loss of her sweet warmth.
He pursed his lips and frowned; his passion-fevered mind barely registering her words.
"I would not know….but…I…." he stuttered helplessly, "…no?"
"That kind of kissing is a very intimate act, Erik...reserved only for the most intimate relationships."
The dark huskiness in her voice was exquisitely tantalizing on the sensitive length of his spine…her voice caressing his flesh as flagrantly and skillfully as her hands when they traced the contours of his chest.
"We have an intimate relationship?" he was enthralled by her words…what did she mean to imply?
She smiled down at him and ground her aching core into his taut erection.
"I am not going anywhere, Erik…I have no intention of leaving you or of abandoning this marriage….I am in love with you, as well."
The smile that had begun to form on his lips suddenly disappeared and he stared up into her earnest eyes.
"What did you say?"
She smiled and repeated herself.
"I said that I am not going anywhere; I am not leaving you…"
"…no…that last part." He interrupted softly, with a smirky grin on his beautiful face.
She wrapped his face in the embrace of her eyes, committing every laugh line, every distinguishing mark, and every twinkle of his green eyes to memory.
"I love you."
His breath hitched and his eyes hazed over with tears.
"You love me?" He repeated, "Love…like a friend…like a relative…"
"…like a husband…the virile, sensual, enticing man that you are…I love you and will stand by you through this rough time and we will find these horrible men together…"
He opened his mouth to protest, but she clamped her hand over it to keep him silent.
"…TOGETHER." She emphasized.
She removed her hand slowly, to find him resisting a smile.
"There is nothing I can do or say that will talk you out of this?"
She shook her head slowly; the tendrils of her dark hair dallying with the expanse of his chest and awakening his body to even more pleasurable sensations.
"How can you love me, Anya….you cannot be serious…" he whispered, "…look at me."
She chuckled and lifted her hand to his face. She slowly swept her eyes over his features again, smiling as she encountered every disagreeable strand of hair that managed always to be out of place; the consuming depth of his green eyes framed by dark, long lashes; and the sensual camber of his lips. He only showed signs of age with a few tiny creases near the corners of his eyes and the dusting of grey at his temples – he was beautiful – and tonight, she would show him this truth.
"I am looking at you, and I have been looking at you for a couple of weeks – watching you hide the beautiful man that I know you are beneath layers of clothing and self-hatred…" she moved her hands caressingly over the slope of his forehead, the curve of his cheekbones, and the fullness of his lips. "Tonight, you will come alive in my arms…and our bodies will create the most beautiful music together."
The last few words feathered across his lips as she barely skimmed her mouth over his. She did the same to his eyelids and the curve of his neck, until he could take no more and ran his hands boldly up her thighs, over the sway of her backside, across her ribcage, and came to rest at the under curve of her breasts.
Her breath hitched in anticipation of his touch – a touch he was withholding – she opened the eyes she did not remember closing and smiled into his deep green gaze. She did not realize until that very moment how many shades of green his eyes could be.
"This is both the saddest and the most amazing day of my life…" he explained, "I lost my dearest friend today – an ache that will be with me forever…"
His hands grazed upward and fully lifted her full breasts, he instinctively ran the pads of his thumbs over their aching peaks; and his mouth began to water from the need to have her in his mouth.
Her eyes drifted shut, her head lulled back, and Erik ran his tongue along the enticing line of her neck…hearing her moan with desire.
He lifted his hips, swelling into her abdomen as their flesh made contact.
"However, I find that my wife – whom I have loved since my eyes rested on her – has come to love me." He lowered his head and swept his eager tongue over one dark, aching nipple. "I do believe that makes this an amazing day in my life."
There were no more words spoken at that point. Erik turned his attentions to her ready body…feeding his starving desires with her abundant bounty. He lathed his tongue around her nipples – relishing every moan he evoked from her luscious mouth.
Somehow, he was once again perched against the headboard with her straddling his hips. His large, articulate hands cradled each perfect, pert breast – gently kneading the pliable flesh and enjoying the warmth that spread through him with every gentle tug she made on his hair. She had wound her arms around his neck, giving him full access to her entire front.
The embers of the fire had enveloped the room in a luscious warmth, bathing them in a illusory hue; but all that Lavanya felt was Erik…everywhere….his hands and mouth – novice though they were – were setting her body aflame with desire and the pooling warmth in her womb was crying out for completeness.
She began the slow movement of her hips against his burgeoning stiffness…and he moaned loudly in his approval of her eagerness. He was about to burst if they did not do something soon.
Startling him with her eagerness, Lavanya embraced one of his large hands and moved it down her body until it cupped her heated core in its palm and then she pulled her eyes to his.
He read her need and knew what she desired. Moving his hand and inserting a finger into her tightness, Erik felt his body surge with its own need as he penetrated her. She leaned into his strong chest and rested her head against him as he enticed her body with a savage, exquisite tenderness that left her breathless and quivering with need.
Erik's fingers licked at her swollen flesh and he inserted another; relishing in her soft intake of breath and knowing she was deriving pleasure from his unlearned touch.
She bucked against his hand, and Erik pulled her mouth to his; plunging his tongue into her mouth as he coaxed her into a state of preparedness. She answered his hot tongue with her own and moaned into his mouth as her body started a steady climb toward the heavens.
Her honeyed softness embraced his fingers like a long, lost lover. She was alive in his arms…and she was wanton and demanding as she placed her hand over his and drove him deeper into her.
He pulled his mouth from her and watched as she shuddered against him – lost in the bliss of her orgasm; the flush of her skin, her nipples hardened even more, her lips deepened in color, and her eyes were only half closed - until she opened them to look directly at him.
She moved her hips and leaned into him until she felt his hardness at her entrance…she waited – only briefly – and started to ease him inside her…pulling her bottom lip into her mouth and whimpering at the wonderful feel of him.
"Oh…you are so hard and ready, my love…take me…."
He held her; feeling her, seeing her, touching her….her whispered plea broke through what remained of his defenses and he threw himself into her. Her head shot back at the invasion, but the pain was only fleeting – replaced quickly by the growing embers of another, imminent climax.
Erik – never having been inside a woman before – was not going to last long…and he knew it. The feel of her was incredible; warm and calming – cradling his flesh like it was coming home from a long absence. He swelled within her – a phenomena he found fascinating – and slowly began the rhythm that he had only read about – or seen in passing at the opera house.
She moved her legs, putting her knees beside him and her feet flat on the mattress. She placed her hands on each side of his head – embracing the headboard. He was at her mercy – and despite the climax that was building within her – she wanted to watch him as he reached his.
She watched his features as she moved over him – pounding upon his stiffness with the force of a woman who could not get enough. She marveled at the sheer beauty of his muscled body reacting to the strange sensations she was giving it, his slightly agape mouth with the most delectable lips she had ever tasted, and every belligerent strand of hair that always framed his face so perfectly.
He was her perfection…she man she was created to be with…her soul mate.
A slow, animalistic growl began in his chest and his breathing became ragged and faster. The obsidian pools that were his eyes stationed on her as he increased the speed of his hips and surged into her with greater force.
She took his mouth with hers as she felt him stiffen even more within her…his time was drawing very close. She mated with his tongue and then smiled into his mouth as he moaned in his release; bucking against her wildly.
His seed poured into her – pounding against the outer gates of her womb and begging entrance. He plunged into her several times before he relaxed against her – his arms wrapped around her and she rested against his chest – both spent and smiling.
His breathing returned to normal, as did hers and they enjoyed some heavy kissing as their bodies recuperated and readied for another romp.
"I never imagined you would feel so good…I think I will never tire of this wonderful act of making love to you." She winked. "I intend to make you a slave to my every whim."
"I already am, my love…I already am." He purred, and kissed her senseless.
♣♠♦♥
"This man…Pieter…was his name…what was he to you?"
They had made love again, rocking against each other with her beneath him this time….neither one had ever felt such bliss and lay naked and entwined within the bed sheets; enjoying the afterglow.
Erik kissed her forehead and pulled her closer to him. He had told her what his suspicions were concerning the men behind D'Ombre's torture; and now, she had questions.
"He was my pupil…a few years ago."
Lavanya rose up on her elbows and looked down into Erik's sad eyes.
"Your pupil…and now he does this to you…" she shook her head and bit her bottom lip in anger, "…it makes no sense."
"He had feelings for me, Anya….feelings I did not return."
She studied him intently and then lifted her brow as understanding spanned across her features.
"Feelings…." She nodded, "…I see."
"I suppose that whatever he felt for me has turned into deep, seeded hatred…." Erik deduced, "…but I must stop him and his mysterious cohort..." Erik stated, kissing her upturned mouth lightly and rubbing her arm softly with his hand; then he turned serious and lifted her chin to look deep into his eyes, "…or I fear their next target will be you…and I will not allow that to happen."
She pulled her body atop his and straddled his abdomen, pinning him beneath her. Her breasts were exposed to his green gaze and he lifted that gaze to her eyes, wondering what was going through her thoughts.
He touched her, circling her hardening peaks with his thumbs and immediately feeling his body respond to her bodies awakening.
"And I fear their target is you, my love…and I will not allow that to happen…so it appears we are at an impasse."
Her voice was growing husky and she moved her hands to cover his as he played her body into a building crescendo of desire.
"You will stay out of harms way…do you understand me?" He was serious and his tone left no room for discussion.
He stopped the foreplay and looked at her with earnest concern in his eyes. She held his face between her hands, giving him a reassuring smile.
"Raoul has promised to help you – and he knows others that will help…." Erik raised his chin and narrowed his eyes at her.
"You wish me to accept his help…do you not?"
Lavanya nodded.
"He will be by tomorrow evening at 6:00 to take you to a poker game…he will have his brother and one of his Russian acquaintances there…" Lavanya watched Erik get a most peculiar look on his face, "…and yes…you will do this, Erik; he only wishes to help and feels that they can discuss a few things over the game."
"I have accepted the boy into my life…" she was not going to budge on the issue and he could see it in her eyes, "….but playing poker with him…Anya…" he lifted his brow, hoping his puppy eyes would win her over, "…and what is the deal with his brother…I have never met the man."
He was pleading in his own way and Lavanya found it quite amusing; but Raoul's help was needed – she did not intend to allow Erik to pursue this madman on his own.
She stared him down and he finally relaxed beneath her, yielding to her iron will. He cherished the realization that she loved him and wanted him to be safe.
"It will be fun…" she assured him, "….as for Count Phillip de Chagny – talk to Tarrah."
Tarrah?
He furrowed his brow and started to ask; but it was at that moment, Lavanya started a downward journey with her mouth – over his marvelous chest and across his flat abdomen, and further still – and Erik forgot the question – and all else except her soft, inviting mouth.
TBC