Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(49)

“What was in your dreams?” she asked.

“The garment in that box. I saw you wearing it in my dream and the next day—the very next day—I saw it in a store window. It would please me if you wore it.”

She opened the box and saw layers of powder blue chiffon and silk. “I thought you weren’t superstitious?”

“Ah, but I am a liar.” He turned and left the room as silently as he had arrived.

Calli dropped her towel and pulled the garment out of the box. It was a cross between a nightdress and evening gown. She couldn’t decide which. The chiffon lay over the top of the silk. She worked her hips into the dress, for it fit snugly and the dress had neither zipper nor fasteners. It was cut on the cross, which gave her the room she needed to get it over her hips. The bias cut also meant it clung. Everywhere. The top was looser and when she slid the straps over her shoulders, the fabric between her breasts hung low. It was low enough it revealed the swell of her breasts. The back of the dress resembled the black lace one she had worn, skimming down in a deep vee to finish just above her buttocks. The straps of the dress crossed her back and attached just above the end of the vee.

The hem of the dress brushed her toes, which Calli found remarkable, for any floor length gown she bought always had to have the hem dropped. Had he seen to that already? She picked up the hem and saw the faint signs of previous stitching.

Yes, someone had extended the hem.

She walked over to the mirror and discovered the silk was so fine and delicate that every rub and swish of the chiffon against it transferred to her skin. As she was naked beneath the dress, the subtle touch was arousing.

She looked in the mirror. The dress outlined her hips, her abdomen and seemed to reveal more of her breasts than it covered. She felt more naked in the dress than she did wearing no clothes at all.

*

Calli made her way back to the dining room, figuring the kitchen had to be somewhere nearby.

As she dressed, evening had fallen. It was already dark outside the glass walls. The dining room was empty. The door on the other side of the room led to the kitchen, also empty. Good cooking smells came from a pot on the stove. A chopping board, a knife and vegetable scraps lay on the counter.

She went back through the dining area and down steps, where she found Nick looking out through the glass towards the trees. Far to the left, she could see the luminous spray of the waterfall.

“Stop there,” he said, his voice low.

She stopped, realizing he had seen her reflection in the glass. “Why?”

“Straight ahead, next to the tree in front of me. See it?”

She tried to see through the glass. “No.”

“Next to your right hand, the light switch. Turn off the lights.”

She touched the switch and the lights all shut off. She blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness. It wasn’t that dark. The sky was inky blue. The moon was close to full.

She looked at the tree Nick had singled out.

“See the eyes?” he asked.

She looked again. Something moved. Eyes reflected the moonlight back at her. She caught her breath.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Jaguar,” Nick murmured. “I think she lives around here.”

The cat, reassured by the darkness, prowled out from under the tree into the full moonlight. Her black coat shone with indigo highlights that reminded Calli of Nick’s eyes. The cat turned her head, sniffing, scouting her way ahead. She gave a low growl, a clearing of the throat. Even through the glass, Calli could hear the deep rumble.

“She’s beautiful,” Calli breathed.

Then, as if she had reached a decision, the jaguar leapt over the root by her feet and padded away towards the stream.

Nick turned to face Calli. His gaze traveled up and down her body and he drew in a deep breath, let it out.

“It will do?” Calli asked. She brushed at the chiffon.

“You have an aura, standing there in the moonlight. You are glowing.” He moved across the room to come up behind her where she stood on the edge of the carpet. “Did you plan this?” he whispered, his hands sliding around her waist.

“Plan what?”

“To stand before the glass so I could come up behind you. Do you know how I have replayed that moment at Ashcroft’s over and over in my mind? How I have wished it might have ended another way?”

His hands slid up the dress to cup her breasts and she gasped in her breath. “It was one hand,” she whispered.

“Ah, yes.” He cupped her breast. She swallowed hard as low-key pleasure spurted through her. In response, her shoulders straightened and she thrust the breast he held into his hand.

In the glass she saw his black shadow by her shoulder, the dark arm across her chest. He spread his other hand out across her abdomen, splayed flat, possessive.

“More.” Her voice came out weak.

“Mmm.” He kissed her neck, making her shiver. “Much more. Later. For now, I must eat real food.”

Her stomach grumbled and he laughed. “And so must you.”

*

They were eating—a spicy casserole with a salad and lots of crusty bread rolls and a pale pat of butter—when a quiet tap-tap-tap sounded.

Calli frowned, unsure what she’d heard.

Nick lifted his head and cocked it, his whole body straightened in the chair, alert.