FATE & DREAMS
Leven Medlem was leaned over the counter thumbing through a magazine. She was completely and utterly bored. There were days when no more than three people came into the shop, and today was one of them. Of course, she couldn't close up shop, not with her ogre of a boss. She sighed, suddenly dreading the trip to Tunica. Tonight would probably be the busiest night ever at the casino. It was Saturday and dozens of people would flood in, spending money, and the bigwigs would be more than willing to pinch her ass some more. The thought of setting foot inside the casino turned her stomach. She lifted her body off the counter. If her boss were to find her in such a position, he'd eat nails and shit tacks. A brilliant idea suddenly came to mind. Why couldn't she just call in sick? Of course, her paycheck would be a little short, but who cares? She could sacrifice something for one night of sanity. Checking the front of the store, she ducked into the tiny room behind the counter. The boss used this room as his office [and probably to jack off, too, she thought bitterly]. She snatched up the phone and made a hasty call to Eva. She made up a glorious story of having the cramps so bad she couldn't walk. Eva was very sympathetic. Oh, I'm so sorry, sure I'll tell them you're sick. What a pal that Eva was turning out to be. A few more hours, and the rest of the night would be hers. She had no idea what she would do with the time, of course, but even if she spent it vegging out with take-out Chinese food, it would be tons better than hustling drinks to a bunch of fucked up drunken bigwigs. Big tips or no, she just wasn't in the damn mood. She hung up the phone quickly and darted back behind the counter just in case a customer decided to show his/her face. As if that is going to happen any time soon. She would almost welcome a robbery attempt just to have some type of excitement. You idiot, don't think that. She picked up her magazine and immediately became absorbed in it once again.
She groaned when she heard the annoying wee-ah of the door alarm as a customer entered. She knew something like this was bound to happen. Two more hours to go and the damn place would start jumping. She put down her magazine reluctantly and looked up to see one customer, a man. He stood well over six feet tall with a long, lean body, equally long arms and legs. His dark hair fell to his shoulders in thick waves. As she stared at him, she seemed to sense that she had seen him somewhere before. Perhaps he was a regular at the casino. Was that it? As the fellow began to browse through the hawked electronics and musical instruments, Leven continued to stare at him. She was sure that he would turn around any second and ask her what the fuck she thought she was looking at. Until then, she stared at him, trying her best to place his face. It would drive her crazy until she figured it out. He went around an aisle and was finally facing her. There was something missing on his face, wasn't there? Hadn't he had facial hair the last time she saw him? Damn it. Where had she seen this guy before? Leven wasn't normally a forward girl [you're not], but if he drew closer to her, she was damn well going to ask his name. Although certain she had seen him at the casino, he didn't carry himself with the air of a VIP. Dumbass. Why would a fucking VIP be inside a pawnshop? However, that didn't sway her opinion. Hundreds of people came into the casinos. She thought she might have bumped into him either going to or coming from work. It was driving her nuts and the fucker kept strolling about as if he had all the time in the world. If he didn't approach her in the next few moments, she would go to him. If she didn't find out who he was soon, she thought she might have a screaming hissy fit.
"Do you need any help," Leven asked suddenly. She had grown tired of his browsing without giving her the chance to check him out fully.
He turned and fixed his eyes on her. She couldn't make out their color, but she was more than positive they were dark brown, the color of chocolate. "No, but thank you."
His voice was mellow and friendly. He had an accent of some sort; making it obvious he wasn't from Tennessee. His denial of help pissed her off a little. When he had looked at her, there was no recognition in his eyes at all. Again, that didn't necessarily mean anything. How many men had she seen but didn't speak to? How many men had she dated, for God's sake, who would still remember her? She stood back behind the counter and watched as he moved around fluidly, almost gracefully. When he turned his back to her, she found herself checking out his ass. Oh stop, will you? She couldn't help it. She recognized the man, was pretty damn sure she knew him, and was even surer that she thought he was hotter than hell. She figured it was what fueled her curiosity. Was that the connection? Had they dated before? Hmmm. It was very intriguing and also very annoying. She watched for fifteen minutes or more as this guy kept browsing around, touching something every now and then. Absently, she picked up an ink pen and began working over the cap. Leven watched [chew, chew, gnaw, gnaw] as he approached an encased display cabinet. It was where they stored knifes of varying shapes and sizes. There were also some freaky looking daggers in the case as well. Often, she stared down at those daggers and knifes, somehow feeling an urge to grab one up. In fact, the knives weren't the only things that made her daydream. The boss had bought some type of sword during one of his many 'scavenging' trips and he had hung it up as a display item. When she wasn't reading a magazine or waiting on customers, she often found himself gazing at that thing as well. It was oddly shaped; it almost resembled a gigantic boomerang or something. But that wasn't right, either, was it? Hell, she didn't know. She simply found herself transfixed by it as well.
"Excuse me," the man said.
She hadn't realized she was so zoned out until the dude spoke to her. Embarrassed now, she cleared her throat, "Er…yeah?"
"Could you retrieve one of these daggers for me?"
She worked his request over in her brain. Could you retrieve one of these daggers for me, he had asked. Nope. This fellow definitely wasn't from Tennessee. "Uh, sure," she said. She went back to the tiny office again and retrieved the keys that would open the display cases. Leven came around to the display case where the man stood. She was standing before him, relatively close, and could smell his aftershave. It was spicy more than musky and different than anything she had ever smelled before. It was…nice. He was…nice. No. He was hot. With shaking hands, she slipped the little key into the rounded slot. She popped open the case and looked up at him. Yes. His eyes were definitely dark brown. "Which one?"
"The one with the quartz in the middle of the handle," he said.
Her face nearly pinked. How long had it been since a man made her blush? Never? He had apparently been checking her out as well. He had selected the dagger she spent the most time staring at. She didn't know what it was about this thing that attracted her so, but she loved gazing at it. She laid her hand on the heavy handle. "I'm not sure if the jewels surrounding the quartz is genuine, but my boss must have thought so. He has it priced at one fifty. Is that too much for you to handle?" God. I can't believe I just asked that. Now he'll think I want to sleep with him or something. Don't I? Wherever she had met him before, she knew she had ended up in bed with him. She had gotten that impression the instant she had laid eyes on him.
He smiled a little. "I think so."
She returned his smile [her face pinking even more] and carried the dagger toward the cash register. She watched as he kept pace with her. He was one of the most graceful men she had ever seen. Most men she knew swaggered. They'd die before they even attempted to carry their bodies like this man. Nervous under his watchful, lusty gaze, she screwed up and kept hitting the wrong keys. He waited patiently, not once taking his eyes off her. She couldn't look up at him. She was such a klutz and she didn't want him to think he was dealing with a child. After a few awkward moments, she rang up his purchase and gave him the total. Without a blink of an eye, he dug out his wallet and handed her a credit card. She caught herself glancing at the name on the card: Caldo Usuario. A nice, but bizarre name, she thought. While she waited for the approval on his card, she stood back and looked up at him again. He had held the same unnerving gaze. God, I wish I could figure out where I've seen him before. The name didn't ring a bell. She had thought it was something like Arden or Anthony or Aidan. Damn it, something with an 'A.'
When she handed over his receipt and signature slip, he laid his hand atop hers before she drew it back. "I'm sorry for such a forward move, but I'd like to see you after you leave here tonight. Perhaps we could meet for a drink?"
Actually, she hadn't minded that he touched her hand at all. In fact, she was pretty flipping thrilled, if the truth were known. His hand was large and warm, covering hers neatly. She suddenly had an image of him running those large hands all over her body. Her heart beat hard in anticipation. "I'd love to."
"Great. I'm staying at the Peabody. Do you know it?" He chuckled; the sound seemed to rustle from his throat lustily. "Of course, you know it. You live here, don't you?"
She smiled and noticed that he had yet to release her hand. Again, she found that she didn't care one itty-bitty bit. He was beautiful and sexier than hell. "I know it. I can meet you around seven?"
He nodded. "Sounds fantastic. You'll find me in The Lobby Bar. Just ask for Caldo. And you are?"
Oh God. She had just been asked out, and she hadn't even told him her name. "I'm Leven."
He released her hand, signed the signature slip with flair, and slid it back toward her. She placed the dagger into a velvet case and handed it over. As he made his way out the door, she found her eyes once again roving over his ass. Caldo Usuario. How did she know him? It didn't matter. She would find out tonight. She glanced at the clock and hoped that an hour would give her enough time to get ready.
* * *
Caldo looked up when his date for the evening entered the crowded bar. He had reserved a table for them and left his name at the front so she would find him. He hid a smile behind his hand as he looked up at her. She had apparently found time to discard her casual wear of jeans and tee shirt. She had donned a short skirt and a dark silk button-down blouse tied at her middle. Her hair was an inch or three below her shoulders and the color of a fawn. It was a bizarre thing. He had never seen hair that color before. Her eyes were golden hazel and bright. He had seen her lust for him in them. She would make an easy score tonight, especially after a few drinks. When she saw him, he waved her over, standing so that she wouldn't miss him. She approached the table with a smile and was flattered when he pulled out her chair for her. Yes. He was a very gentle man. He wouldn't hurt a fly…unless angered. She wondered how she knew this about him? Wouldn't he have said something if he recognized her? He took his seat, ordered drinks for the two of them, and began his seduction.
Leven was a bit lightheaded. She and Caldo had talked well into the night. Each break in conversation seemed to be met with more drinks. She wanted to stop, but after her third or fourth, she didn't rightfully give a damn. She'd slam one down, get another, slam it down, and then begin the process again. She listened as Caldo told her he collected daggers, that his father was a millionaire, and that he traveled all over the country just looking for artifacts. He talked so much that she wasn't sure what was fiction and what was the truth. After a while, she didn't care what he said. He looked damn good, she knew that, knew that for damn sure. Her uninhibited behavior began to surprise her. At one moment, she was sitting politely in her chair listening to Caldo. At another, she had kicked off her shoe and began caressing his inner thigh with her foot. Yes. She had definitely slept with this man before. He had been a gentle, considerate lover. When Caldo suggested they continue their conversation up in his room, she found herself readily agreeing. What the hell? She wanted to go another round with him. Oh yeah. Who wouldn't?
Caldo and Leven were in his room no longer than five minutes before he began undressing her. Her tipsy brain wanted to tell her this wasn't right. This man wasn't whom she thought he was, but she couldn't get past the booze. He had to be the one. He had to be. Her protests died as his hands began to roam all over her naked body, touching spots that hadn't been touched. Leven was no virgin, but damn, this guy knew what he was doing. He was firing off triggers she never knew she had. But then, hadn't he done this to her before? Hadn't he set her aflame time and time again? He certainly had.
Once Caldo had them both stripped down, he didn't waste time taking her to the bed. He threw her down roughly, momentarily shattering that gentle image. The thought 'oh well' drifted into her mind. Sometimes even gentle men liked it rough once in a while, didn't they? His hands had lit small fires, but his mouth and tongue caused an all out forest fire. Just before he entered her, he leaned over her, kissing her deeply, plunging his tongue into her mouth. She didn't close her eyes; she wanted to see his face while he kissed her. Oh, she finally saw him as he was when knew him before. His dark hair was wavier. Yes. The beard was back, tickling her sensitive flesh. Somehow, funky looking tattoos had suddenly appeared on his cheeks, forehead, and hands. How did he have time to do that? He hadn't stopped and pulled away for one tiny second. Oh, but she didn't care, did she? She plunged her hands into his thick hair and held him against her for as long as he would allow. He broke the kiss and gazed down at her. God. He was so beautiful and she could feel his love for her literally oozing from his pores. She hadn't only made love to this man before, but she had also loved him, hadn't she? He plunged into her deeply, thrusting slowly at first, but began to move frantically soon enough. She brought her thighs up firmly against his hips and dug her fingers into his buttocks. This was the man, this was the only man. At the moment of her release [a moment she would not remember afterwards], she cried out his name: "Ardeth!" Caldo noticed, of course, but it didn't bother him a bit. After all, he had done his own fair share of fantasizing when making love to other women.
* * *
Her lover, her beautiful lover, the one known as 'Ardeth' kissed her ever so tenderly before moving a muscle. She begged him to wait before he withdrew. She didn't want the moment to end any sooner than it had to. A time would come when he would leave her and she wanted to stay with him as long as possible. He smiled and whispered something in her ear: Brîd 'âyiz dâyman kâ bâTin inti, Hatta aimta emta ana mâ mush [I will always be inside you, even when I'm not]. She understood every word he said and she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as was humanly possible. She had never thought she could feel this way about a man. She felt tears streaming out of her eyes. Why had he come to her only to leave after she fell so deeply in love with him? Her lips were all over his face, her tongue tripping lightly across his tattoos. When her lips found his, she kissed him deeply, nibbling at his sensuous bottom lip as she broke the kiss. He was spent, but he found the energy to touch her, and she gave way before him, allowing his hands access to any part of her body he wanted to touch. He had been more than reluctant to love her like this, but it was something he couldn't have prevented no matter what he did. It was impossible, completely impossible. His fingers trailed lightly over her flesh, barely touching it, and she quivered in delight and frustration. Oh. How could he be ready to make love to her again? Hadn't they made love twice tonight? Hadn't she lain in the comforting embrace of his arms and cried at the cruel trick fate had played on her? She didn't care, didn't have the time or energy to care. She needed him, needed him more than any man she had ever needed in her entire life. He sat up, bringing her with him, and she wrapped her legs about his waist. He wanted to look at her, to gaze into her beautiful eyes. It had been many years since he had expressed his love for any woman. He felt it in his heart, mind, and soul. He had yet to say anything to her, but he knew she loved him as well. It was plainly written in her eyes.
His heart skipped a beat as he whispered, "I love you."
"I love you," she whispered back.
Having said it and then hearing it repeated back, he felt a deep chill overtaking him. It wasn't a bad sort of chill, but one that came when a man was stunned by some powerful, life-changing news. He groaned in awesome sadness and kissed her again. Their bodies drifted back down to the bed and she discovered that yes, he was ready to make love to her again, more than ready.
* * *
Leven jarred herself awake as she goggled owlishly around a strange hotel room. She was in a gigantic hotel bed all by herself. She hadn't remembered much about last night, but she realized that she had gone home with someone. She kept trying to remember his name. Arden? Aidan? Adrian? Damn it. Where was he? She glanced at the empty side of the bed. She tried to sit up, but her head swam sickly. Uh God. She had a fucking hangover. Great. Piece by piece, she began to remember. She groaned aloud. Slowly, she brought her body up to a sitting position. She swung her legs over the side of the bed with yet more deliberate slowness. She saw that her lover for the night had folded her clothing neatly and placed it into a chair. She glanced at the bedside clock. It was almost noon. Goddamn. If she didn't get moving she'd be late for work at the casino.
She grabbed her clothes, horrified that she had no time to shower. She wanted to get dressed and get out of this room as quickly as possible. However, after a moment, she realized that she didn't need to worry a bit. The man who had taken her to bed had left a nice little note for her in the bathroom: Stay and sleep as long as you want. I have the room reserved for two more days, but I needed to get back home. You were wonderful. Caldo. She put her hand on her forehead and grumbled: Oh God. She had slept with a rank stranger. This man was not who she thought he was. What had she been thinking? Without wasting time, she dressed and got the hell out.
That night at the casino, the bigwigs saw a very distracted drink hustler. Usually, Leven was bright and cheery [even when she actually felt like shit]. Tonight, she was morose and brooding. It wasn't that she was upset about sleeping with the man. She was upset because it wasn't the man she had thought it was. It was another man, one who was a seemingly poor substitute. What the hell is happening to me? More than once, she found herself standing in one spot gazing blankly at the wall. Would someone please help me understand these feelings? And more than once, Eva had to bring her back to the real world. Leven was risking her job, her steady paycheck, but the distraction wouldn't let go of her. She wished she had stayed home. But then, the thought of staying home terrified her as well. What if the dreams kept coming back? Whoever you are, please stay away.