Dream Wedding. Susan Mallery

dreaming,” she told herself. “That’s all. Just dreaming. Go with it and you’ll be fine.”

      But the reassurance didn’t keep her heart from pounding as the Jeep drew closer. The man inside stopped it a scant two feet from her, then climbed out.

      He was tall—substantially taller than her five feet nine inches—and lean. “At least he’s really good-looking,” Chloe said to herself. “I mean if I have to dream about some strange guy, I don’t want him to look like the king of the nerds or something.”

      The man didn’t speak. Instead he walked over to her, ripped off his shirt, then pulled her hard against his gleaming chest.

      “I like this,” she said, feeling the masculine length of his body pressing into hers.

      “Hush, love. I am your destiny.”

      “Uh-huh. And I’m a direct descendant of Queen Victoria.”

      She stared into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. The dream was amazingly real. She could feel the wind, the heat of the man’s body, his breath on her cheek. She swallowed. She even felt him pressing up against her. Wow! She had to get out more. Her subconscious was obviously way too bored with her life.

      “I want you,” the man said.

      “Then take me, big boy. I’m yours.”

      He kissed her. Chloe stifled a shriek of both shock and pleasure. Talk about going for it. His mouth claimed hers in the most perfect, masterful way. She felt small and delicate and incredibly free. This was a dream, after all. She could say or do anything she wanted and no one would ever have to know.

      She clutched his face and pulled back. “I have one request,” she said.

      “Make it. I’ll do anything for you.”

      “Great. Just don’t disappear on me until we’re finished, okay? I hate those sex dreams where I wake up about thirty seconds from the good part. It does not make for a restful night.”

      Instead of answering, he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the cave. There a fire burned low. Their bed was soft, fresh, sweet-smelling straw. How nice of her brain to supply the details.

      The stranger made love to her with a tender thoroughness that left her breathless and trembling. He touched and kissed every part of her. Much to her relief, she didn’t wake up before the good part. In fact the good part happened at least twice. He even made her scream once and she’d never been a screamer.

      “Who are you?” she asked when they at last stretched out together. They were both slick with sweat and breathing hard. She traced his perfect body, her fingers lingering on a scar on his left forearm.

      “Your destiny.”

      “So you said, but do you actually have a name, or should I just call you Mr. D.?”

      He raised his head and stared at her. His gaze was so intense, she felt as if she could see down to the bottom of his soul. Whatever lurked there called to her. She wanted to respond, but didn’t know how. This was still a dream, right? It wasn’t real. But for that second, she desperately wanted it to be.

      “You’ll know me,” he told her as the world around them faded to black.

      She tried to grab on to him, but his hand slipped through hers. Before she could even cry out, he was gone and she was alone.

      * * *

      “HOW WAS it? Start at the beginning and talk very slowly.”

      Chloe blinked at the bright light and realized it was morning. She glanced around in confusion, then saw she was back in her own room, in her familiar bed. Cassie bounced on the mattress next to her and grinned.

      “So, who is he? Who did you dream about?”

      “What?”

      Chloe sat up slowly. Her head was spinning and she couldn’t quite wake up. Maybe because she didn’t feel rested. It was almost as if she’d spent the night running around. Or making love with a handsome, mysterious stranger.

      She pushed the last thought away. Nothing had happened. She’d had a couple of weird dreams. They were probably the result of too much chocolate cake and ice cream. They didn’t mean anything.

      Cassie was still in the oversized T-shirt she regularly wore to bed. Her thick hair was mussed, her face flushed from sleep. “Do you mean to tell me you didn’t dream about anyone? Not even one guy?”

      Chloe sat up and hugged her arms to her chest. Her body ached pleasantly and there was a definite dampness between her legs. Too weird, she told herself silently. But she did not believe in family legends. The dream had been a fluke, not a prophecy. She wasn’t going to encourage Cassie’s flights of fancy.

      “I didn’t dream of anyone,” she said slowly, instantly picturing the handsome man who had swept her into that cave. It was all too embarrassing. What was she supposed to say? That the sex had been great, thank you very much? She couldn’t admit anything to anyone.

      Cassie’s smile faded. “But I thought it was real.” She sounded as if someone had stolen her last hope.

      Chloe grimaced. She had done exactly that. But she couldn’t tell the truth. She just couldn’t!

      “I’m sorry,” she said and touched her sister’s arm. “It’s just a nightgown, kid. Like any other.”

      “Okay. Aunt Charity warned me the legend might just be a story, but I didn’t want to believe her. I guess I’m going to have to.” Cassie looked as if she was going to say more, then untangled herself from the covers and stood up. “I’ll go start the coffee.”

      When Chloe was alone, she collapsed back on the pillow. She felt strange inside. Off center somehow. Was it the dream?

      “There is no legend,” she said aloud. “The dream was just my subconscious’s way of telling me it’s time to start dating. I’ll take the hint. Today in the office, I’ll look around for a likely candidate.”

      But as she walked to the bathroom, instead of trying to figure out which eligible men would interest her, she found herself picturing him. She shivered...not in fear or irritation, but at the memory of what his touch had done to her.

      A hot shower went a long way to restoring her spirits. As she toweled off, she checked her arms and the tops of her breasts. Nothing. Just her regular skin. She’d half expected to see the lingering marks from his lovemaking.

      “I must remember to ask Aunt Charity if insanity runs in the family,” she said as she chose her clothes for the day.

      Fifteen minutes later, her hair was dry and she was dressed. She headed for the kitchen and that healing first cup of coffee. As she reached for the coffeepot, Cassie flipped on the small television. They usually watched one of the morning shows while they ate breakfast.

      Chloe had the pot in one hand and a mug in the other. Then a familiar voice filled the room and she froze.

      “The gem exhibit is an exciting find,” he said. “But I can’t take full credit for bringing it to the university. It takes a very large committee to pull this kind of thing together.”

      Goose bumps puckered up and down her arms. She set the coffeepot back on its burner so she wouldn’t drop it, and put the mug on the counter. Then, very slowly, she turned to face the television.

      The camera focused on the perky hostess of the local morning show. Then the picture on the screen panned right. A man came into view. A handsome man. A man who, until sometime last night, she’d never seen before. But she knew him. She knew every inch of his body. She’d touched and tasted him, she knew his scent so well, she could have found him in the dark.

      “Why do you think you’re always the one to make the great discoveries?” the woman asked.

      The man smiled. Chloe felt her heart shudder in her chest, and