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Then she saw her. The young woman she’d seen before, all white and floaty, her hair lustrous down her back, so blond it was nearly white, framing an exquisite face. She looked so sad and her hands were held out toward Alexandra.

“Who are you?”

Goodness, was that her voice, all thin and wispy with fear?

The figure didn’t move, just stood there not three feet from the bed, her body shimmering as if she weren’t really standing on the floor but rather hovering over it, her arms held out to Alexandra.

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Again, the figure remained just as it was.

“I know you’re called the Virgin Bride because your new husband was killed before you could become his wife. But I am not a virgin. My husband didn’t die. Why are you here?”

Then the figure made a soft deep sound and Alexandra nearly leapt off the bed in fright.

Suddenly, everything was as clear as if the figure had spoken. Alexandra knew why she was here. “You want to warn me, don’t you?”

The figure shifted subtly, deepening the lights and shadows.

“You’re worried that something will happen to me?”

The figure shimmered softly and Alexandra suddenly wasn’t certain whether or not it was her, no, not her . . . or was it? She was losing her mind, she was guessing a ghost’s intentions. It was madness.

“What the hell is going on here? Alexandra, who are you talking to?”

The figure shuddered, gave off a soft glittering light, then simply faded into the wainscoting.

Douglas came through the connecting door. He was quite naked.

“It’s all right. I was just entertaining my lover. But now you’ve chased him off.”

She didn’t realize her voice was shaking, that she sounded as if she were about to be shoved off a precipice, but Douglas did. He came across the room and looked down at her for just an instant before coming into bed with her. He drew her tightly against him, felt the shudders of her body, and simply held her. “It’s all right, it was just a nightmare, nothing more, just a nightmare.”

“Oh my,” she said finally, her face buried into his shoulder. “It wasn’t a dream or a nightmare, I swear it to you. Goodness, Douglas, I not only saw her but I also spoke to her. I started thinking I understood her.”

“It was a dream,” he said firmly. “That damned ghost is a collective figment. You dreamed her up because I wasn’t here to love you until you were exhausted.”

“You’ve seen her, haven’t you?”

“Naturally not. I am not a silly twit of an empty-headed female.”

“You have seen her, don’t lie to me, Douglas! When? What was the circumstance?”

He kissed her temple and hugged her more tightly to him, pressing her face into his shoulder. When she spoke again, her warm breath fanned his flesh. “I told her that I wasn’t a virgin and that you weren’t dead; I asked her why she was here. She was warning me but I’m not sure it’s me who’s in danger . . . maybe it isn’t, but then you came in and she left.”

“Yes, I can just imagine it. She floated away, her shroud wafting romantically around her.”

“I want to know when you saw her.”

Douglas kissed her temple again, but his thoughts were on that night when Alexandra had run away from him yet he’d heard her crying in here and he’d come in and seen her . . . not Alexandra, but her, that damned ghost. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “No.”

He stiffened then. “My God, do you realize that I’m not attacking you? I haven’t got you on your back? We’ve actually spoken together for at least three minutes, and we’re here naked and—” She turned up her face then, and he felt her warm breath on his mouth and he kissed her.

“Well, damn,” he said, and swept his hands down her back until they were cupping her buttocks and he was turning to face her, his sex hard and thick against her belly. Her arms were tight around his neck and she was kissing him wildly. It was difficult but he managed to get off her nightgown.

He was breathing hard and fast and when he knew that it was going to be closer than he’d thought, he lifted her leg and came into her. She gasped with the surprise and pleasure of it, and then she did more than gasp because his hands and his fingers were caressing her woman’s flesh as his mouth was hot on her breast.

“Douglas,” she said, and climaxed with a choking cry.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical