Always an Eaton: Sweet Dreams. Rochelle Alers
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let the sweet, tart liquid slide slowly down the back of her throat. “It’s delicious.”
Preston nodded.
Chandra set down her glass. She didn’t want to drink too much before she had a chance to eat. “Where are your dishes?”
“They’re in the cabinet over the sink.”
“What about coffee or tea?”
“I’ll have whatever you have,” he said.
“What about juice, chef?”
“I’m not a chef, Chandra.”
Preston turned and glared at Chandra, but he couldn’t stay angry with her when he saw the humor in her eyes. He was going to enjoy working with her. There was no doubt she was a free spirit if she’d left the States to teach in Belize.
His gaze softened when Chandra swayed to the Latin-infused baseline beats of “All Would Envy” written by Sting and sung by Shawn Colvin.
He took three long strides and pulled her into a close embrace. She fit perfectly within the arc of his arms. They danced as if they’d performed the action countless times. Preston closed his eyes, listening to the words about a wealthy older man who was the envy of other men, old and young, because he’d convinced a beautiful young woman to marry him.
Everything about the woman in his arms seeped into him. She was becoming the heroine in Death’s Kiss. Chandra was right. The play had to have a happy ending. He knew very little about vampires, but he remembered stories about mortals who were bitten by vampires and needed to feed on human blood in order to stay alive.
“Pascual has to be an incredible dancer,” Chandra said softly.
“In other words, he must waltz.”
Leaning back, she smiled up at Preston. “Yes, but his dance of choice is the tango.”
“Where did he learn to tango?” Preston asked.
“In Argentina, of course.”
Inky-black eyebrows lifted a fraction. “So, your vampire is from South America?”
“Yes. He’s lived there for two centuries, hence his name. He’s the son of a noble Spanish landowner and an African slave. Although the tango did not become popular outside of the Argentine ghettos until the early years of the twentieth century, Pascual time travels from one century to another, establishing his reputation as a professional dancer.”
Preston angled his head. “I like that you made him mixed race.”
“Why’s that?” Chandra asked.
“Because Josette is also mixed race, and, like her mother, is a free woman of color. I’ve decided to make her a quadroon, because the character will be easier to cast when I begin auditions. Josette’s mother will present her at one of the balls the year she turns sixteen.”
“Isn’t she rather young?”
Preston twirled Chandra around and around in an intricate dance step. “Not at all. Josette’s mother, who is also plaçée, made certain her daughter was educated in France, so once she completes her education Josette will be ready to marry and set up her own household.”
“Will she meet Pascual at the ball?”
He pondered her question. “No. That would be too contrived. She’ll see him for the first time two weeks before the ball when she goes to her dressmaker for a final fitting of her gown. He’s there with another woman, who is also a vampire, whom Josette believes is his mistress. Then, she sees him again when she goes to the market with her maid to pick up flowers to decorate the house because her father is coming to share dinner with her mother.”
“What happens next, Preston?”
Dipping her low, Preston kissed the end of her nose and then straightened. “No more questions. You will see the play once I begin rehearsals.”
Chandra pouted the way she’d done as a child when she hadn’t gotten her way. “That’s not fair.”
He stared at her lush lips. What wasn’t fair was that he wanted so much to make love to her, but didn’t, because he didn’t want to send the wrong message. He’d asked Chandra to work, not sleep with him.
“What’s not fair is that you’re asking me questions I can’t answer because you haven’t given me enough information to breathe life into Pascual. You’ve told me he’s an Argentinian of mixed blood and an expert dancer.”
Tilting her chin and closing her eyes, Chandra thought of the fantasy man from her erotic dreams. He could’ve easily become Pascual, coming to her in the dark of the night to make the most exquisite love she’d ever experienced or imagined.
“What are you thinking about?” Preston asked in her ear.
Her eyes opened. “I was trying to imagine Pascual making love to Josette for the first time.”
“Before or after she becomes plaçée?”
A beat passed. “Would it add to the conflict if she offers him her virginity?” Chandra asked.
Preston gave Chandra a conspiratorial wink. “It would. But how is she going to convince her white Creole gentleman that she’s a virgin?”
“She will confide in her maid, who in turn will ask a voodoo priestess for help. Perhaps you can show a scene with Josette meeting with the voodoo woman. She has great disdain for the woman, but is forced to give up the priceless necklace she’s wearing in exchange for a potion that will cause one to fall asleep, and upon waking not remember anything.”
He was impressed. Chandra had come up with a credible rationalization for Josette to protect her reputation. After all, the play was to be set in New Orleans.
“Do you want Josette to continue to sleep with Pascual after she becomes plaçée, Chandra?” Preston asked.
Chandra scrunched up her nose. “I see where you’re going with this. I think I want Pascual to become her only lover.”
“What about her benefactor? Do you think the man will continue to consort with his plaçée? There’s no way he would be respected in his social circle if word got out that he’d been cuckolded by a woman of color.”
“A couple of drops of the potion in a glass of wine each time he comes to visit Josette will eventually take its toll on the poor man when he becomes an amnesiac.”
Preston stared at Chandra, and then burst out laughing. He didn’t give her a chance to react when he swept her up off the floor, fastening his mouth to hers in an explosive kiss that robbed her of her breath.Her arms went around his neck, she melting against his length when he deepened the kiss.
Chandra’s lips parted as she struggled to breathe, giving Preston the slight advantage he needed when the tip of his tongue grazed her palate, the inside of her cheek and curled around her tongue as he made slow, exquisite love to her mouth. The dreams that had plagued her within days of arriving in Belize came to life; she was unable to differentiate between her fantasy lover and Preston Tucker. The familiar flutters that began in her belly moved lower. If he didn’t stop, then she knew she would beg him to make love to her.
“Please! No more, Preston.”
Preston heard the strident cry that penetrated the sensual fog pulling him under with the force of a riptide. His head popped up, he stared down at Chandra as if seeing her for the first time. The sweep hand on a wall clock made a full revolution before he lowered her until her feet touched the floor.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
The skin around Chandra’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. “I’m not.”
Preston froze. “You’re not?”
Going on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “You have a very sexy mouth, P.J., and I’d