Chapter 15: On the Town & Into Dreams
Leland Residence, Columbia Heights
Friday, 5:30 pm
Elizabeth stepped out of her SUV and adjusted the shawl on her shoulders. Grabbing the small evening bag from the dash, she locked her car and put her keys away.
Suddenly, a low whistle caught her attention, and she turned. Tom Webber, out walking his dog, was staring at her.
"How did a pompous stuffed-shirt like Leland ever manage to snag a classy lady like you, Dr. Dillingham? You look terrific."
The psychologist smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Webber." She then raised a brow as the little terrier he was walking decided to "do her business" amongst the flower bed that separated Myles' house from his neighbor's. Webber glanced at her and pulled on the dog's leash, a gesture Elizabeth knew was only for her benefit.
"Webber, take that poor excuse for a canine away from my rhododendrons, if you don't mind." Myles was coming down his front walkway, dressed in his finest dark suit.
Webber smirked. "Antonio's short a waiter tonight, Leland?"
Elizabeth repressed a smile as Myles angled his chin up. "At least I don't resemble an overgrown hockey puck when I dress up, Webber."
"All right, you two," the psychologist laughed. "I don't have to go get Velma, do I? She's probably got a yardstick by her door she'd be more than happy to use on you both."
Both men wrinkled their noses at her in oh-very-funny gestures so similar she had to laugh again. Myles looked at his watch. "We're going to be late for our dinner reservation."
"Uh-huh." Webber smirked again, then turned back to Elizabeth. "Hey, Doc, um… I just saw like a five-second blurb on the news… about… well, you know." He paused, fully expecting his next-door neighbor to make a sarcastic comment. When it didn't emerge, he continued. "Just wanted to say I bet you all are glad it's really over, you know?"
Myles had already formed his retort, but it died on his lips when Webber finished. Instead, he blinked; after a beat, he said quietly, "Thank you, Tom. We are indeed."
"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth echoed. "That's why we're headed out tonight. One more fear buried—" She paused, her cheeks coloring slightly. "So to speak."
"Well, enjoy yourselves. You deserve it." Webber's grin came back. "Or you do, anyway, Doc." He headed down the street with his dog.
Myles glared after him. "So help me, I swear, he and Randy were twins separated at birth and raised by hyenas."
Elizabeth laughed. "Come on, quit griping. You promised me an evening out, and I fully expect you to follow through."
&
Leland Residence
Friday, 11 pm
He spun her around as they came in the front door, catching her in his arms and giving her a long, intense kiss that left her breathless. He buried his fingers in her hair, which had long since come out of its elegant twist.
"Now you see," he said quietly, a gleam in his blue-grey eyes, "I knew that first tango wasn't just a fluke."
Elizabeth smiled brightly. "Lucky night. Although, if you keep dragging me onto the dance floor, I may just find my confidence. And Richard won't be shaking his head at me at our wedding reception."
"Sweetheart, I will take you dancing once a week if you like," Myles declared. "Even if it's at midnight here in our dining room." He moved toward the kitchen. "A glass of wine?"
"Sounds great." The psychologist wandered into the dining room; it had been awhile since they'd entertained, and the room was dark and silent. She walked over to the French doors and swung them open, then leaned against the doorsill as she gazed up at the night sky. A nearly-full moon bathed the warm spring evening in silver shadows.
Done… it's all over, finally. We can concentrate on us now, on the future we will build together in this home, on all the wonderful things that will fill our lives with such joy… She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to keep from floating away.
The sensation of warm lips on her cheek caught her breath; she sighed, feeling a tremor go through her as Myles slid his hands around her waist from behind. He trailed kisses down the side of her neck and across her shoulder, moving aside the thin shawl as he did so, until it slid to the floor at her feet.
"Mmmm… and pray tell, what are you doing?" she asked dreamily, as his fingertips moved to caress her arm.
"Sampling the dessert menu," he chuckled softly against her skin.
She laughed and turned in his arms, poking a finger against his chest. "You already had dessert, love. I seem to recall a fair-sized slice of tiramisu."
"Which I shared with you," he countered, capturing her hand from his chest and bringing it to his lips. "By the way, did you really think that shawl was going to hide the jewels on your shoulder?"
She laughed. "Well, no; but I wasn't sure how you were going to react to it, so I decided to play it safe for as long as I could."
"I will admit, my first reaction was 'when did she get that,' followed rapidly by 'her mother's going to kill her,'" he replied. "But it's small, tasteful, and don't ever tell Grandmother Margaret I said this, but I think it's downright sexy." He slid his fingertips over the small heart, listening to her breath catch at his touch.
"I like it, too, but I don't really think it's me." Elizabeth smiled up at him. "I do suppose I could leave it on a while longer, since you like it so much."
He ran his finger down her nose, tapping the end of it. "Sweetheart, you could show up on my doorstep clad in rags and you'd still be the most beautiful woman on the Eastern Seaboard."
"Wow, you really got around in your bachelor days, didn't you?"
The twinkle in her eyes ignited his soul, and he gave in to the impulse. Burying his hands in her raven hair again, Myles lowered his mouth to hers, exploring every millimeter of her lips with gentle nibbles and soft kisses.
Elizabeth sighed, sliding her hands up his back and moving closer to him; he tasted of dark Italian espresso and the exotic mix of Cognac and sweet cream. She shivered as his hands slid over her shoulders and down her back, even as his kisses kindled a warmth that spread through her whole body. Bringing her hands around and up his chest, she wound her fingers into the gold of his hair and let her lips trail across his cheek to a point just below his ear where she could feel his pulse jump. A soft sigh escaped the back of his throat, and the thought that she was having the same effect on him that he was on her was intoxicating.
His hands were igniting a path along the sides of her ribs; though he stayed in the "appropriate" areas, the nerve endings were all connected, and she moaned softly at the sensations he was creating.
She was drowning in him; she knew it, and she didn't care. In spite of all her promises to herself, she knew that, tonight, she would willingly give anything he asked of her. Still, the soft baritone voice in her ear startled her:
"Stay with me."
He didn't realize he'd spoken it aloud until it was said. But when he pulled back to apologize, he saw total surrender in her emerald eyes, and his breath caught. For one insane, unguarded moment, he considered it. But he knew that regret would come as surely as the sunrise, and he couldn't bear the thought of it in her eyes.
He drew her back into a simple embrace, and rested his cheek against her hair. After a moment, he whispered, "I didn't mean it that way, truly. Stay in the guest room; I just want you here when I wake up in the morning."
Her eyes drifted closed briefly. Then she looked back up at him. "All right. I'd like that, too."
Myles stared at her for a long moment. "You would have…?"
She nodded. "Yes, love. I would have. Anything you would have asked of me." Tears brightened her eyes as she smiled. "Thank you for being strong enough for both of us."
He nodded, humbled at her trust in him and a bit overwhelmed at how close they'd come yet again. "And there wasn't even any music on this time."
She laughed softly. " I think it's a very good thing we only have six weeks until the wedding. Speaking of which, if I'm staying here tonight, you're going to have to help me address two hundred wedding invitations tomorrow. So you'd best not tell me you have to work."
He sighed dramatically. "Yes, dear."
Now her delighted laugh echoed around the darkened room. "And no setting up an 'emergency call,' either. I'll know."
Myles wrapped his arms around her again, smiling down at her. "You're just no fun at all. It's a good thing I love you. Now, I suppose we should at least attempt to get some sleep, if we're going to brave writers' cramp all day tomorrow."
&
2 am
Getting to sleep hadn't been a problem; unfortunately, his subconscious was trying to make up for his nobility earlier…
…he sensed someone watching him, even as he stared into the Scotch in front of him on the bar. He turned, and his breath caught in his throat.
She was as beautiful as he'd remembered from that morning in the coffee shop; there was an air of elegance about her that he hadn't come across in a long time, and it stirred his tired soul.
"Elizabeth. How nice to see you again." He glanced admiringly at her. "You look lovely."
"Thank you, Myles." She'd brushed at her pantsuit lightly, a modest gesture he was sure had been drilled into her head since birth, given even what little he knew of her background.
"Shall we?" As he'd taken her elbow to lead her to the table, a jolt had shot clear up his arm; only years of training at keeping his reactions to himself kept him steady as he seated her. …
…He turned and looked directly at her, clamping down the mask on what was a growing anger. "Did you talk to Tara this evening, before I called?"
Elizabeth blinked. "Yes," she said softly.
He stood, anger and hurt ripping into his gut. "I see. Well, Dr. Dillingham, thank you for dinner, but I won't be needing your services. Good night." He turned on his heel and walked away.
He heard her coming up behind him, but had no intention of stopping, until she caught his arm and swung him around.
"Whoa there, Special Agent. What exactly do you think is going on?"
He wrenched his arm away from her. "I think," he spat, "that Tara filled you in on today's fiasco and wanted you to come therapize me, or whatever you call it. Poor Myles, he's had a rough day, see if you can straighten him out so we don't have any more episodes like this! Let me tell you something, Dr. Dillingham—I've been with the FBI for ten years, I know perfectly well how to do my job. I don't need yours or anybody else's help!"
Elizabeth didn't let him get a single stride; she stood toe-to-toe with him and eyed him steadily. "If I remember correctly," she said, very evenly, "you called me tonight, Agent Leland. … She took a breath. "Why did you call me tonight, Myles, if you'd had such a rotten day?"
He blinked. "I…"
"Because you picked having dinner with a near-stranger over staying home with your own thoughts, that's why. And that's fine. But don't you dare go and accuse me of conspiring with Tara to set you up in a therapy session."
Even as angry as he was, he couldn't help but notice how her eyes flamed emerald in her own ire. Something sparked inside him, even as he glared at her coldly.
"You don't believe me," she said evenly. "Fine. Check with Tara. She always saves IM conversations for a couple of weeks—rather like a journal. You do whatever checking on me you feel you need to, get your answers, and then give me a call when you get done. Because even after this, I'd still like to see you again."…
…"Please, let me apologize again for my awful behavior."
They were strolling on the Mall again; but this time, the easy comfort they'd started last time continued. Pausing in front of the skating rink, he reached out and touched her cheek.
"I was a complete idiot."
"Myles, it's all right," Elizabeth replied. "You were exhausted, and you thought you'd been set up. I'm just glad you decided to give it another shot. Roger was afraid I'd mope around forever."
He raised a brow at her. "Roger?"
"My cat," she replied, laughing.
"Ah. Well, we can't have that." He gazed at her a moment longer, then took a breath. "Dr. Dillingham, I'd very much like to kiss you goodnight. Would you allow that?"
She didn't answer; instead, she stepped toward him and touched his cheek gently, drawing him toward her. She tasted of the strawberry pie they'd shared for dessert, along with something sweeter still, all her own…
…She walked around the table to him. He gently stroked her cheek, then let his fingers tangle in her dark hair. "What were you going to tell me on the phone the other night?"
Her green eyes widened. "Why? Why now?"
"Because it's important right now. I almost said something to you that night, too. And I need to say it now, just..." He paused. "Just in case."
She started to respond, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and he placed a finger on her lips. "I love you, Elizabeth Dillingham. I never thought I'd say that to anyone, certainly not after just three months, but I do – completely, hopelessly, passionately. Whatever happens, good or bad, I want you to know that."
A single tear streaked down one cheek, but her smile was like brilliant sunshine breaking through the clouds. "I love you, too, Myles. Whatever happens." She stretched up on her toes and gave him a gentle kiss. "With all my heart."…
… He stared at her incredulously for a long moment, then closed his eyes tightly and drew in a sharp breath, as if against a sudden pain.
Elizabeth's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" At his nod, she sighed. "Still want to yell at me?"
"No." He took her gloved hand in his before he opened his eyes. "Unfortunately, that mask prevents me from doing what I want to do instead." He surveyed the glove very carefully before he brought her palm to his lips. "I guess this will have to do. You are something else, you know that?"
She shrugged. "If the situation were reversed, would you be waiting out in the hall?" She read the answer in his eyes. "I didn't think so. By the way, there are a few other people out in that hall who'd like to see how you're doing."
He sighed heavily. "And I suppose it would be useless to protest?"
The mask tightened a little as she smiled. "Completely. But I think Jack will persuade the rest of them of the good sense in limiting the number of visitors."
"Good sense? That's a trait I'm finding in rather short supply right now." He gave her a meaningful look.
Her eyes filled with tears, though the smile didn't fade, and her voice softened. "'Unless you can swear, 'For life, for death!' — Oh fear to call it loving.'"…
… The writing was hand-done calligraphy, and below the verse was a beautifully inked dragon. Suddenly, he heard soft footsteps behind him. He turned.
Elizabeth stepped over to him, a brilliant smile lighting her face. "Welcome back," she said softly.
He took a step back. "Elizabeth? What are you doing here? I thought…"
She held out her hands to him. "I know. And I decided I wasn't going to keep you in suspense indefinitely. I knew you'd want to dive right back into work, so I allowed myself just two weeks to work all this out."
He took a deep breath, and drew her into his arms. The decision was hers, after all, and he was ready to accept whatever she'd chosen. "And what did you find as your answer?"
The smile softened, but didn't diminish. She put her arms around his neck, and stretched up on her toes until her lips were right next to his ear. "'Let peace begin'… with us. Whatever the cost."
His arms tightened around her, and he let out the breath he'd been holding. "You're sure?"
She pulled back to look into his eyes. "I'm sure. …
… Elizabeth was so much a part of his life now that he couldn't imagine life without her. … He was interrupted by the phone ringing. He sighed and picked it up, knowing full well there was only one thing that would constitute a call at five in the morning. Now I know how D must feel at times. "Leland."
"Myles?" Jack's voice was urgent. "Better get in here. Darcy's article just got localized."
His heart thudded in his chest, and he got to his feet in a hurry . "A Black Rose murder? Here in DC?" He looked at Elizabeth again; she was sitting up, wide awake now.
"Yes."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He started to say something to Elizabeth, but she shook her head.
"Go," she said, standing up. "No apology needed, love. Go."
He took her face in his hands and gave her a lingering kiss. "You are amazing. I hope you're still this understanding after we've been married for twenty years." Her eyebrows went up, and he suddenly realized what he'd said. "I mean—"
She laughed. "I love you, too. Now go on; they're waiting for you." …
… He heard the door slide open, and turned to face her. When he saw her, he was glad he'd not picked up the wineglasses, because they'd have been in pieces at his feet about now.
To describe her in a single word, he'd always boiled it down to "elegant." Tonight was no exception, and it took his breath away.
Tall, shoulders back, the heels of her shoes bringing her almost eye-to-eye with him, her every movement radiated refinement. Her black hair was swept up in a simple twist, and the opals he'd given her for her birthday sparkled at her ears and throat.
Her dress was deep emerald silk, beautifully cut to skim snugly down to her waist, then flare into draped folds that flowed and caressed her long legs. A single row of tiny gold beads accentuated the spaghetti straps and the bodice line, drawing his eyes up over every curve and back to her slim shoulders. Sultry and sophisticated at the same time, she was exquisite, and he found that English just wasn't enough for a reply.
"Ma chérie, vous êtes la femme la plus belle au monde. Exquis!" He took her hand and raised it to his lips. …
… The guitar faded away; they stood there for a long moment, gazing at each other, locked in the subtle sensuality that had woven its way around them. Gently, almost too slowly to bear, he leaned forward and kissed her.
For a moment, time stopped; then it raced into being again as every tender word not yet spoken was breathed into life by the passion that flowed between them.
His hands moved up into her hair, and pulled free the clip holding the elegant style in place. Raven tresses spilled over her shoulders, and his fingers tangled in them as he rained kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. She drew in a sharp breath as his lips found her throat, and she whispered his name. He felt her shiver as his hands moved down over her shoulders, her back.
For a second, he felt her pause slightly; they'd reached this point only a few times in their relationship, and she always pulled back. He had never questioned it, but after last weekend he understood. He was ready to back off—
Then suddenly her hands drifted up his chest, moving around his neck and up into his hair. Her kisses grew bolder, exploring his face even as her hands moved over his shoulders, and he felt her lips caress his ear. The sensation almost overwhelmed him …
… Her eyes widened as she recognized the setting; a rose garden, the bench. "Myles… your dream…"
He nodded and crossed to her, going to one knee in front of her and placing a finger over her lips before she could protest. "Elizabeth, this is my last step home. I wanted to create a different dream for this setting, and I can think of no better." He placed the bouquet on the bench, then took her hands in his. "I needed a different poem to fill this setting, as well."
Her eyes shone as he began, very softly, to recite another poem from Lord Byron, one that would complete the journey for them both.
"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies. …"
As he finished, he reached into his pocket. "My sweetheart, we've been through so much in this past year. It seems like you have been a part of me for all our lives, and I love you with all that I am. I cannot imagine my life without you." He opened a small velvet box. "Elizabeth Dillingham, will you marry me?"
She gazed for only a moment at the simple solitaire. Then she spoke, tears falling on her cheeks. "I love you too, Myles, with my whole heart and soul. Yes, a thousand times, yes. I will gladly, joyfully become your wife."
He slipped the ring onto her finger and gathered her in his arms, letting all that he couldn't put into words speak in his kiss. …
…"Walks in the rain…" His fingertips drifted across her face. "Christmas mornings…"
"Dancing with you after the kids are in bed…"
"Looking back at all the mistakes we made and laughing over them…" He drew back and smiled at her. "Gee, it's been a great life, hasn't it?"
Elizabeth kissed him again. "Glorious. Let's do it all over again."
Until this point they hadn't noticed that his grandmother had switched on the radio before she retired. A song began to wind its way around them, pulling them under each other's spell. Her arms circled his neck, pulling him closer, ignoring the subtle warning in her head. He trailed kisses down her face and neck, finding a soft spot on her collarbone that made her gasp softly. She explored his face with feather-light kisses, losing herself in the feel of his arms around her, his fingers trailing over her arms, finally weaving with hers and drawing her hand against his chest…
Lost… so completely lost in her scent, the feel of her skin, the heat of her breath across his throat… somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew they were headed out of control, but he couldn't seem to find the way back…
…"Stay with me." He felt her breath catch, and realized too late the double meaning of his words; expecting her to refuse, he drew back to look into her eyes and apologize.
What he saw there was her soul, laid bare for him alone. Her breathing was shallow and fast; but she didn't look away, and after a moment he saw her nod. The realization of what she was agreeing to blazed across his heart and body. Still, he wanted to be sure.
Very slowly, he slid one of the sequined spaghetti straps off her shoulder. Her eyes never left his, and the emerald glow of them fired his soul further. He dropped a single gentle kiss against her collarbone, reveling in the way she trembled under his touch. Then he straightened, and found her watching him.
She said nothing, simply reached up and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt as she did so. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against the warmth of his skin. He lifted her in his arms…
His eyes shot open, half-expecting to find her lying with him, her lips against his skin. Certainly, his body was reacting as if she were. After a breath or two, Myles realized it had all been a dream; but he couldn't seem to find his way back from it totally.
Too close… She was right across the hallway, and he knew she wouldn't lock her door. She was too close, he was too near the breaking point of his control, and he knew he needed to put some more distance between them now.
Shrugging into the tailored robe nearby, he left it hanging open over the drawstring pants, and headed downstairs quickly.
&
Elizabeth stirred; What was that? Glancing at the clock, she realized the sound had come from across the hall— the door to Myles' room closing. What's he doing up at 2:30? It's only been three hours…
Curious, she got up, rather wishing she'd thought to bring over a replacement for the robe she'd had to take to the cleaners after a glass of wine got spilled on it. Instead, she reached into the guest room closet and pulled out one of his flannel shirts, grateful he bought them in the extended length. She slipped it on and buttoned it up, then went downstairs quietly.
He was in the living room, seated in one of the leather armchairs, his elbows on his knees and his hands wound up in his hair. He was staring at the floor.
"Myles?"
His head snapped around, and she saw an almost haunted look in his eyes. "Elizabeth, go back to bed."
"Why? What is it, love?" She started to step toward him, but he waved her off.
"Go back to bed. Please."
She wasn't listening; worse, she was walking toward him, her long legs going on forever underneath that flannel shirt— his shirt. His blood was pounding in his ears; he had to make her understand before she got any closer. His voice was hoarse as he replied.
"A dream, that's all. A very… intense… dream. I can't shake it, and you being within arm's reach is not helping. Please, just go back to your room."
Elizabeth looked puzzled for only a moment. Then she smiled. "Oh. That kind of dream."
"Yes. Now, please…" He looked away, willing her to just listen for once.
"Myles, I'm not going to leave you down here by yourself when I'm part of the reason you're down here in the first place." She paused, and he felt her fingers on his arm. He flinched, and she tightened her hold. "I am the reason, right?" she asked lightly.
He dared a look at her. "Yes. And it's not funny. You can't be down here, it's not… safe."
Her face softened. "You're right; it's not funny. I'm sorry for teasing you." His gaze dropped to the floor again, and she could feel the tension in him. "But I'm still not going to let you suffer alone." She stood and held out a hand to him. "Come here."
His gaze shot up to her again. "Are you listening to anything I'm saying here?" Then his eyes widened. "You're not saying—?"
"No," she said softly. "After earlier tonight, I'll not break our promises. Will you just trust me for a minute, please?"
"A minute is about all you have, love," he admitted hoarsely. "But all right."
She led him over to the sofa and indicated he should sit down on the floor, then sat behind him on the couch. She leaned over until she could speak directly into his ear. "Close your eyes."
"Elizabeth…"
"Just do it. Trust me. Picture the seashore at your grandparents' house. Hear the roar of the waves, taste the salt in the air. Let yourself relax into the scene." Her hands moved over the muscles in his neck, kneading away some of the tension.
Unfortunately, her touch was kindling more tension at the same time. "This isn't helping, sweetheart."
"It will if you take me out of that scene," she murmured calmly. "You're there by yourself."
"Oh."
She smiled. "Focus out on the waves. Lose yourself in the serenity of it." She stopped speaking, leaned back away from him, and let her hands rest still until she felt him relax a little.
He fought for control, and was surprised to find that, while his nerves were still strung tight, he didn't feel on the verge of losing restraint. He let out a breath, and then heard her voice once more. At least she's not right in my ear again.
"Now, take a deep breath and let it out, then I'm going to say three words that I guarantee will make the difference."
He drew the breath, filling his lungs completely, then let it out slowly. Her hair brushed his shoulder again, and he tried to ignore the sensation. It almost worked. Then her voice caressed his ear once more.
"Deep. Tissue. Massage."
The image those words conjured up were like a bucket of ice water over his skin, and he audibly gasped. His head snapped around; she'd been expecting it, or he'd have broken her nose.
"You are cruel." He still couldn't quite believe he'd heard her correctly.
She smiled. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"
He scowled at her. "Maybe permanently."
Elizabeth laughed, rubbing her hands across his shoulders. "I'm sorry, love. But you obviously needed a change of venue, and Arlene seemed to be a good choice."
He shook his head at her, though he couldn't help but smile slightly. "The feminine personification of an ice-cold shower. And don't you ever tell her I said that. She'd slip cyanide into my next immunization booster without batting an eyelash."
"Are you okay now?" Elizabeth asked.
He sighed deeply. "Yeah. Thank you… I think." Then his brows drew together slightly. "You know, I really hope Sam wasn't tuned in to my dream this time. It got a bit… well…"
"I can guess," she replied softly. "He got flashes of your garden dream because it was frightening to you; you needed someone there as an anchor, even if you didn't perceive him there. This time, you didn't; in fact, as highly personal as I suspect this dream was, your subconscious would have put up its own barriers. He might have gotten a flash of your emotions, but that's it. If you're worried about it, you can always ask him."
Myles chuckled. "I think not. Besides, if he got any of it, I'll get teased about it the first chance he gets." He stretched a bit, enjoying the feel of her hands absently stroking his shoulder. "That feels nice."
"Nice, but not hazardous?" she replied. When he nodded, she began to knead the muscles in his shoulders and neck, feeling him truly relax beneath her touch. After several minutes, she leaned over and dropped a kiss into his hair. "Think you can sleep again?"
"Mmm-hmm." He caught her hand and looked up at her, pressing a kiss into her palm. "Thank you, love."
"Anytime," she smiled. "Besides, you're still not getting out of helping me with the invitations, so you need your rest."
