"I'll wait out in the car. This house gives me the creeps."
"He's the one who thinks you're a ghost," Ryan told Hope softly, a trace of apology in his tone. He stared at her beautiful face and a profound sense of satisfaction went through him. Unlike his dream experience, she was still here. And he was still buried fast in her sweetness.
"A ghost? But—"
"Shhhh, I'll try and explain later. But right now—"
"Ryan—" Hope protested weakly when he began to thrust his cock in and out of her.
"There's no buts about it, honey. Nothing ... nothing is going to stop me from having you this time around."
The headboard began to clack against the w
all loudly as he became more enthusiastic about celebrating her existence.
"Feeling a little less tense, I hope," Ramiro said sarcastically through his opened car window twenty minutes later.
Ryan grinned. "As a matter of fact, I feel fantastic, thanks. Come inside. I want you to meet someone."
A few seconds later Ryan shut the mansion's front door behind them and turned to examine his friend. Ramiro didn't look any more comfortable in the twenty-first century than he had 102 years ago when Hope had dragged Mel inside this same magnificent house.
How was he supposed to go about introducing Hope to Ramiro, anyway? He'd already thought of just making up a cover story to explain her presence in the house with him, but there were a few people—Ramiro, his mother and Alistair—who he wouldn't feel comfortable lying to about the entire ordeal.
Besides, he had to tell Ramiro about Diamond Jack Fletcher's connection to Jim Donahue.
His partner stuck his hands in his coat pocket, hunching slightly as he glanced around the entry hall warily. The whites of Ramiro's eyes showed when they both heard the sound of heels tapping in the upper hallway.
Hope came down the grand staircase slowly, her long skirt and petticoat swishing behind her on the mahogany stairs. The fact that she hadn't pinned her long mane of curling hair back up on her head but wore it spilling around her shoulders and back didn't take away from her regal appearance in the slightest. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she paused and gave Ramiro a shy, warm smile.
Ramiro returned it with a slack-jawed gawk.
"I told you she wasn't a ghost," Ryan said quietly.
"What the hell? You mean that's the chick in the mirror?"
Ryan nodded when Ramiro stared at him incredulously.
"Ramiro Menendez, meet Hope Stillwater."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Menendez." She put out her hand when she approached. Ramiro returned her formal gesture after giving Ryan a "you've got to be kidding me" look.
"She feels like the real thing," Ramiro admitted after enveloping her small, elegant hand in his big paw. Ryan bristled when his partner's limpid, bedroom eyes rested on Hope's corset-encased breasts as he spoke. "But if you're not a ghost, how come you're dressed like that, beautiful lady? Don't tell me—Ryan is taking you to the gala tonight at the Field Museum and that's your getup. Some kind of costume or something?"
Ryan and Hope spoke at once.
"Donahue's arrest is official police business. Not something you ask a date to, Ramiro."
"The Field Museum still exists? That's one of my favorite places in the city. It reminds me of all the magic of the Chicago World's Fair. May I go with you, Ryan? I'll promise to stay out of the way of official police business."
Ryan threw Ramiro a dirty look, letting him know this was his big mouth's fault. "I'm afraid that's not possible, honey."
"Special Agent Crenshaw's bringing his wife. He asked if we were bringing dates—or at least someone who checked out and didn't get in the way of official business. He thought it might look strange to have fifteen men standing around like a gang of dateless losers crashing the high school prom. I mean, what guy in his right mind would take the time and effort to put on a tux if he wasn't trying to impress a lady, am I right?" Ramiro asked Hope confidentially. "Jim Donahue'd notice that quick as a huge, pussing boil on he nose.
I'm bringing Gail. Couldn't keep her away once she heard he'd get to see me in a tux."
"Tux? Do you mean tuxedo, Mr. Menendez?" "Yeah, I do ... uh ..." He looked at Ryan as if for advice, Ryan just glared at him forbiddingly. "Er .. . Miss Stillwater."
"Oh, so the official police business is taking place at some sort )f ball?" Hope enthused.