Ildaria pushed through the dark oak door of the front room on the second floor of the Night Club and paused with surprise to take it in. There were four rooms in the club, the main bar and dance club on the main floor, and two alternate rooms on this floor. She knew the back room was a game room with pool tables and arcade games, but this was the first time she’d seen the front room. It was impressive in an old English manor kind of way. She could see it appealing to some of the older immortals. In fact, each room seemed to have been created to appeal to a different age group of immortal. The dance club was for the younger immortals. The bar catered to the mid to old immortals who came for company. She supposed the game room would appeal to different age groups, but this room seemed most suited to old, old immortals who were probably coupled.
The clink of glasses drew her attention to the man presently cleaning the room and a small smile curved her lips as she watched him work. The high green Mohawk didn’t really fit with the black dress pants and dress shirt he was wearing. Jeans or leather would have suited him more, Ildaria thought as she watched him carry a half-full tray of glasses to the next table, one of many small side tables that accompanied the groupings of sofas and chairs in the room. G.G. bent, set the tray on the table and began gathering the used glasses and adding them to his growing collection.
“I don’t know why you don’t have Sofia and the others help with cleanup,” she said to announce her presence. “It would be done in no time with the three or four of you working.”
G.G. stilled and then glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment, his gaze moving over her slowly before he turned back to continue gathering glasses. “They work long hours as it is. The shortest night in the summer is nine hours, but it can be as long as fifteen hours in the winter that they have to work. And they do it without complaint,” he pointed out. “Letting them go at closing is the least I can do.”
“You work longer,” she pointed out. “You start early to prep, and clean up after. Surely—”
“The Night Club is my business. I get the profits. As such, I should work longer hours. Most business owners do. No employee is paid well enough to have to work as long as I do.”
Ildaria raised her eyebrows at the words and reminded him, “I do your books. I know how well you pay your employees, and you pay us all ridiculously well. On top of that, you’re charging us a pittance in rent for the apartments and house. It barely covers the cost of electricity and water. Not to mention that your prices in the club are very reasonable. Your profits are a lot smaller than they could be.”
G.G. shrugged and moved to the next table to gather the glasses there. “How much money does a person need? You can’t take it with you. Besides, I pay well so that my employees are happy. Happy employees make good employees, and good employees stay.”
“You’re a good boss,” she said, meaning it. He cared about people more than money. Few businessmen were like that.
G.G. snorted with disbelief, and shook his head. “I used to be. Now I’m turning into an aging pervert who spends all his waking hours fantasizing about one of his employees, and his nights dreaming of her.” Straightening, he turned to wave his hand toward her with exasperation. “I mean look, I’ve put you in glasses, for heaven’s sake.”
Ildaria reached up to feel her face, surprised to note the eyeglasses resting on her nose. She hadn’t even realized they were there until he mentioned them. She’d never in her life even imagined wearing them. She was immortal. Immortals didn’t need glasses. The nanos saw to that. But she was wearing glasses . . . which meant this was a dream.
Ildaria let her gaze skate over the rest of her outfit now, wondering if anything else was unusual. But she was wearing a black skirt and white blouse, one set of several she’d purchased to work at the fancy restaurant in Montana where she’d sometimes acted as hostess and sometimes as server. She’d been fortunate that they were just as suitable for her job in the office here and she hadn’t had to buy new clothes.
Her shoes were different though, Ildaria noted. They were still black high heels, but open-toed, and the black bow had been moved to rest on the band across the top of her foot rather than the heel. A quick swipe of her hair told her that it was up in the customary bun she wore to work, though. So he’d only changed the shoes and added glasses. Not much of a change to her mind, and she turned her thoughts to wondering how she’d been so slow to realize this was another shared dream.
The answer was obvious. Despite the fact that she was asleep, it seemed so real, and so natural. It wasn’t like she’d pushed through a door into an upside-down circus or something. She’d walked into one of the rooms of the club and had assumed she was awake and this was reality. But in reality she hadn’t seen much of G.G. for the last two weeks since she’d moved into the apartment and the dreams had started. He’d been avoiding her. It hadn’t started right away. The night she’d moved in, he’d checked on her in the office often, and had his breaks there with her and H.D., sharing meals and chatting comfortably, laughing a lot. An hour before closing, he’d shown up to tell her that her eight hours were up and she and H.D. should go up to her new apartment and relax. He’d pick up H.D. once he’d cleaned up after closing.
Ildaria had taken H.D. upstairs and played with the pooch. When G.G. finished cleanup and showed up to collect his pup, she’d greeted him at the door with the offer of hot chocolate and they’d sat on her couch talking for several hours before he’d left for his own apartment. Ildaria had dragged herself off to bed then and fallen into the first of their shared dreams.
The next day had followed the same pattern, with G.G. checking on her often, sharing his meals with her, and enjoying hot chocolate and laughter together as they unwound afterward. Again it had been followed by a restless sleep full of shared dreams. Those dreams had continued every day for the last two weeks, but her waking hours had slowly changed. G.G. had started sending Sofia to check on her rather than doing it himself, and then he’d stopped having meals with her, and finally he’d stopped having hot chocolate at the end of the night too, claiming he was too tired for it. Now, the only time she saw him was in dreams. She supposed that alone should have told her this was a dream, because in reality, she would be upstairs with H.D., not searching him out in the club after closing.
“The damned glasses were supposed to make you less attractive,” G.G. said with irritation, drawing her attention to him again. “They were supposed to slow me down a little so I wouldn’t jump you the minute you walked into the room. Instead, you look hot as hell. Like some sexy librarian or something.” He clucked his tongue with self-disgust. “I’m dressing you up in my dreams like a bloody sex doll, Ildaria. If you had any idea—”
Pausing abruptly, he scowled and turned back to his task, his movements abrupt and angry now as he swiped up glasses and slammed them onto the tray.
“G.G.,” she said with a small frown and crossed the room quickly to his side. But the moment she touched his arm, he jerked upright and stepped back.
“No. Don’t touch me,” he snapped, and then closed his eyes on a sigh when she retrieved her hand and stared at him with embarrassment and confusion.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed wearily. “I’m just tired. I spend my days having all these dreams that leave me feeling like I haven’t slept at all, and then I spend my nights working the door of the Night Club, but fantasizing about you the whole time.” Irritation flickered over his face, and then he burst out, “And I know the customers are reading every dirty little thought in my head. They give me these knowing looks and grins as I let them in. They know that I’m stripping you naked in my mind and—”
He closed his eyes on a short laugh, and muttered, “And now I’m talking to myself in my dreams.”
“Talking to yourself?” she asked with confusion.
His eyes opened, a wry half smile twisting his lips. “Well, dreams are supposed to be your subconscious trying to work out things, right? So, really you’re me.”
Ildaria stilled, realizing that he didn’t know that these were shared dreams. G.G. knew about immortals, and she’d assumed that he’d recognize that these were the shared dreams that immortals and their life mates experience. In fact, she’d been waiting for him to comment on them. But apparently he hadn’t yet realized that was what was happening. He thought he was just having sexual dreams about her.
“G.G.,” she began, but paused when he suddenly took her hands in his.
“I’m sorry,” he said glumly. “I know I have to do something about this. I’m becoming obsessed with you to the point that I’m afraid of what I’ll do. Every night when I pick up H.D. I’m fighting the urge to drag you into my arms, strip you naked, and explore every inch of your beautiful body with my tongue.”
Ildaria swallowed, her body responding to the image.
“The only thing stopping me is that you’re my employee, an immortal, obviously not interested, and could easily kick my ass for even trying to kiss you. Never mind the sexual harassment suit,” he added with a wry grimace. “It’s gotten so bad that last night I spent most of my time at work fantasizing about how I could do that for real. Seriously,” he insisted when she blinked in surprise. Then he squeezed her hands almost painfully before dropping them and whirling to stride several steps away. His voice thick with shame, he confessed, “I was actually fantasizing on a way to do it. I thought maybe if I got my hands on blood from someone with Rohypnol in their system, I could knock you out, drag you to my apartment, and chain you to my bed and—” He bowed his head in shame. “I’m losing my mind, Ildaria. I can’t stop thinking about you, and the more I think about you, the more I want to—”
G.G.’s words stopped abruptly as he turned to look at her.
Ildaria stared back, slowly realizing that her view of him had changed. She’d been standing just moments ago, but now was flat on her back. Glancing down, she saw that she was lying on a bed in the middle of the club room, naked and chained. Judging by the slack-jawed expression on G.G.’s face now, he hadn’t put her there. But his admission had. It had turned her on when he’d talked about having her naked and chained to his bed, and her subconscious had changed the dream situation to suit.
“God, I’m turning into a sick bastard,” G.G. breathed, moving toward the bed.
“No. You’re not,” Ildaria whispered. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Her subconscious might have put her there, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable being naked and staked out. In reality, she was equal parts excited, anxious, and embarrassed to be in such a position. But mostly she was uncomfortable. Ildaria wasn’t used to being powerless. Not anymore. She hadn’t felt this helpless since—
The brush of his fingers on her calf sent tingles of sensation up her leg and made her thoughts scatter.
“Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze sliding over her with awe.
She found herself holding her breath as he examined her, and then it left in a sigh as he continued along the side of the bed, trailing his fingers up her leg, hip, and stomach. A moan slid from her lips, though, when they crested her breast and brushed over the nipple. It immediately went hard, need pushing her anxiety and discomfort away.
“G.G.,” she breathed, wanting to tell him they were sharing this dream. Wanting to tell him that she wanted him too, but her voice deserted her when he suddenly dropped to sit on the side of the bed and bent to claim her nipple with his mouth.
Pressing her head back into the pillow, Ildaria moaned, her body arching upward invitingly, her wrists pulling at the chains restricting them as she tried to reach for his head. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and lashed it with his tongue before grazing it with his teeth as he let it slip from his mouth.
“Mm,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her breast to the valley between them. “You smell like muffins.”
Ildaria’s eyes popped open, surprise pushing some of her desire aside. Muffins?
“Vanilla and spice. Delicious,” he announced and then his tongue swiped up her second breast and lashed the nipple there. “I love muffins,” he growled before claiming that nipple and suckling it into his mouth now.
Ildaria groaned, promising herself she’d make him muffins as he began to nip and lash at the hard bud, sending bolts of excitement through her body. But then he released that as well and breathed, “You’d hate me if you knew I did this to you in my dreams.”
“No,” she gasped, shaking her head on the pillow as his lips moved over her stomach, sending it rippling.
“Yes, you would,” he said, sounding sad, one hand shifting up to cover her breast and squeeze lightly, the other fanning out over her hip before sliding to her upper leg. “But I swear I wouldn’t drug you or chain you up in real life. I’m losing my mind over you and I know it, but I haven’t completely lost it yet. I’ll do what I have to, to keep you safe. I’ll get away from you, go back to England and—”
“No!” Ildaria protested with horror.
“Shh. You’re just a dream. If you were real you’d be glad,” he muttered and then made sure she didn’t protest further by covering her mouth with his in a hard kiss.
Ildaria resisted for all of a heartbeat, and then gave in and kissed him back. She would tell him after. Immortals did not faint during dream sex. She would tell him afterward that this was a shared dream. She’d tell him that he wasn’t losing his mind, or that if he was she was too, and it was only because they were possible life mates. And then she’d beg him to agree to be hers. She wouldn’t even ask him to turn. She just needed him to be hers. She just—
Her thoughts died as his hand slid between her legs and her body responded, pushing everything but the feel, taste, and need for him from her thoughts. God, she wanted to touch him, Ildaria thought and then the chains melted away, freeing her to touch him.
G.G. moaned into her mouth when her hands slid around him and ran over what she could reach of his back, but he didn’t stop kissing and caressing her until she began to tug at his shirt. Breaking their kiss, he nipped at her lower lip and then retrieved his hand from between her legs and stood to quickly undo the buttons of his dress shirt.
Ildaria watched him, panting, her body aching. A small sigh slid from her lips when the shirt was open and he began to shrug out of it, his tattoos shifting with the movement. He was so beautiful, his chest wide and rippling with muscle. Ildaria had never thought much of tattoos in the past, but had to admit G.G.’s were beautiful, a pattern of black whorls and curved thorns that ran around his upper arms to his shoulder, leaving his chest un-inked. She knew from past dreams that the same pattern ran down his muscled back, following the length of his spine. They looked beautiful on him, and she thought it would be a shame if he were turned and lost them.
Movement distracted her from her thoughts, and she focused in on G.G. as he walked to the foot of the bed. He was watching her as he went, his gaze intense, and she stared back, suddenly holding her breath when he paused between her spread, still chained feet.
“Beautiful,” he murmured and then knelt and placed a kiss on the instep of first one foot and then the other. He began to move up her legs then, licking and nipping at each ankle, and then her calf, crawling onto and up the bed as he went. When he licked and nipped at her inner knees and she gasped, shifted and gave a startled sound almost but not quite a giggle, a smile claimed his lips and he raised his head to look up her body to her raised head.
“Ticklish.” The word was a soft rumble in the silence, but he moved on, kissing and nibbling up her inner thighs, moving so slowly Ildaria thought she’d die from the anticipation of his reaching her core. But he surprised her there, bypassing the aching spot altogether and letting his lips travel to her hips and her stomach instead.
Ildaria moaned in disappointment and then gasped and arched as his lips found her breasts and feasted on first one and then the other. Rasping each nipple, nipping, and then suckling, before lifting to claim her mouth. Groaning, Ildaria kissed him back, her suddenly free feet sliding up the bed so that her knees rose to frame his legs and then she used them to lift her hips against his as he ground into her.
G.G. murmured something she didn’t catch as he broke their kiss, and then raised his upper body as if doing push-ups, and watched her face as he ground his lower body against hers. Ildaria tried to meet his gaze, but her eyes kept closing and her head was starting to twist on the pillow as the pressure inside her built.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he breathed and then suddenly slithered back down her body, pressed her thighs open and buried his face between them to taste her.
Ildaria cried out at the first rasp of his tongue, her body jerking in response, and then tangled her hands in the sheets on either side of her and held on for dear life as he went to work driving her crazy. He did things with his mouth and tongue that had her eyes rolling back in her head, and brought a long ululating sound of need chorusing from her mouth.
It wasn’t the first time he’d done this in their shared dreams, but every time was both a revelation and a struggle. While her hips were thrusting up into the caress, her legs were trying to press closed but being held open by his big hands, and her head was thrashing, shaking back and forth in what might have been taken for denial even as her whole body fought toward the release she knew was coming.
When it hit, she screamed, her whole body convulsing, and her mind briefly insensate with the power of it so that she wasn’t sure she would have been able to give her name if anyone had asked what it was. When she finally regained some of her senses, G.G. was over her, completely nude though she had no idea if he’d stripped or just wished or imagined the clothes away in this shared dream, and then she didn’t care as he was thrusting into her.
Ildaria cried out, her arms and legs wrapping instinctively around him as he filled her. Her body beginning to quiver again as he withdrew and thrust forward over and over. This time when she found her pleasure, he was right there with her, roaring in triumph as he found his own. He collapsed on top of her, and just as quickly tried to roll away, but she held him in place, enjoying his weight on her, holding him as they regained their breath.
Ildaria hadn’t forgotten that she had to talk to him, explain about the shared dreams and tell him that they were life mates. But she waited a few moments for their breathing to slow, and then just as she opened her mouth to speak, the phone rang.
Ildaria stiffened, her arms instinctively tightening around G.G. as if to protect him from the intrusion, but it rang again and she turned her head to peer at the bedside table in the bright sunlight pouring through her bedroom window. The ringing had woken her and the dream had slipped away with consciousness, breaking her connection to G.G.
Cursing, Ildaria glanced at the digital display of the alarm clock next to the phone to see that it was only noon. She’d slept a little more than three hours and was not in the mood for dealing with telemarketers or wrong numbers. She just wanted to go back to sleep and back to her shared dream with G.G., so ignored her phone and closed her eyes. Much to her relief, after two more rings the sound stopped, the call switching to voice mail, she supposed.
Ildaria turned on her side and snuggled under the blankets, eager to return to sleep, but stiffened when the phone began ringing again. Obviously, whoever it was wasn’t going to be put off.
Muttering under her breath with irritation, Ildaria dragged her arm out from under the blankets and snatched the phone off her bedside table. She didn’t even check to see who was calling; she simply hit the green icon to accept the call and brought the phone to her ear.
“Si?” Her voice was groggy with the sleep she wished she was still enjoying and she let her eyes close yet again, hoping it was a quick call and she could get back to sleep.
“I have tea and a sausage breakfast sandwich with your name on it.”
Ildaria’s eyes blinked open at once. It wasn’t just the fact that it was Sofia’s voice speaking to her, but the mention of a sausage breakfast sandwich. Ildaria loved sausage breakfast sandwiches. She’d tried her first one just a week earlier, compliments of Sofia, but they had become her favorite food. She was addicted to them. They were one of the few foods she was willing to miss out on sleep for. On the other hand, she’d planned to talk to G.G. . . .
“Ildaria?”
Heaving a sigh, she shook her head. “I was about to talk to G.G. about . . . stuff.”
“G.G.’s there?” Sofia asked with surprise.
“No. In our dream. I was going to explain that we’re life mates and—”
“What the hell?” Sofia interrupted. “You were going to tell him in a dream that he’s your life mate? Ildaria,” she said with exasperation. “He’d just think that was wishful thinking, and part of his dream. Or maybe his nightmare,” she muttered with disgust, and then grouched, “Get out of bed and open the door right now or I’m giving this sausage breakfast sandwich to Elijah.”
“Fine,” Ildaria snapped irritably. Sitting up in bed, she asked, “Why am I opening the door?”
“Because I’m standing on the other side of it with your tea and sandwich. Why else?”
“Well, why didn’t you just knock then?” Ildaria asked, some of her irritation giving way to exasperated amusement. Sofia couldn’t do anything the normal way. Rather than call, she’d text you to call her, and rather than knock, she apparently called and told you to open the door. The woman was whacked, she thought as she pushed the sheet and blanket aside and climbed out of bed.
“Because I would have had to pound pretty loud for you to hear all the way from the bedroom and I didn’t want to wake G.G. He needs his sleep.”
“And I don’t?” she asked sounding just a bit pissy. She padded out of the bedroom and down the hall.
“You might,” Sofia allowed. “But you aren’t the one who’s been acting like a grumpy bear for the last week and a half . . . which is what I wanted to talk about.”
Ildaria grunted in response to that as she crossed the living room, knowing she was acting a bit like that grumpy bear right now. But it was nothing compared to how G.G. had been acting the last week. At least, when he was awake. So as she turned into the short hall to the door, she said, “G.G. has been a bit short the last week or so. Is that not normal for him?”
“Definitely not,” Sofia assured her, and then lowered the phone when Ildaria unlocked and pulled the door open. Ending the call and sliding the phone into her pocket, she added, “Which is why I wanted to talk to you when G.G. wouldn’t interrupt, and perhaps give him a chance to get some proper sleep since you won’t be sleeping so . . .” She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. “. . . no shared dreams.”
“Right,” Ildaria breathed wearily as she watched Sofia bend to pick up a takeout cup and two bags from the floor—one a small paper bag with a coffee shop logo, and the other a cloth bag.
Straightening, Sofia held them up with a smile. “But I come bearing gifts to make up for it.”
Toning down her scowl, Ildaria managed not to snatch the paper bag no doubt holding the sausage breakfast sandwich from her, and stepped back, gesturing for the platinum blonde to enter. Once Sofia moved past her, she closed the door and locked it before following her to the kitchen island.
Sofia settled herself on one of the chairs at the island and waited until Ildaria claimed the chair next to her before pushing the takeout cup and the paper bag in front of her. She then pulled blood out of the other sack. Four bags of blood, in fact.
“To make up for waking you,” Sofia explained, sliding the bags in front of her as well. “We can get by without sleep. A little blood and it’s like we slept soundly all night. G.G. doesn’t have that advantage.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Ildaria agreed. She wasn’t at all sure if she’d accept the blood, but wasn’t awake enough to argue yet.
“Speaking of lack of sleep,” Sofia said brightly. “How is it?”
“How is lack of sleep?” Ildaria asked with disbelief as she opened the drinking tab on her cup of tea. But she was thinking here was the proof that she wasn’t awake yet because Sofia’s words made no sense to her at all.
“Not the lack of sleep itself,” Sofia said with a faint smile. “The reason for it.”
When Ildaria stared at her blankly, Sofia shifted impatiently and said, “You’ve lived here for two weeks now, right across the hall from G.G. Close enough for shared sex dreams and I know that’s the dream you were talking about earlier. You’re having them. So . . . how are they?” Sofia asked, her eyebrows wiggling up and down on her forehead. “Are they super hot? They are, aren’t they? Tell me they are.”
When Ildaria started to shake her head, Sofia gave a “bah” of exasperation, her hand waving away what she obviously thought was a denial. “Don’t even try that. If you’ll remember, I can read G.G.’s mind and what I’m reading there is straight-up Mimi porn.”
“Mimi porn?” Ildaria echoed uncertainly.
“Mortal/Immortal making it,” she said helpfully, and then added, “If you went out with myself and our coworkers once in a while like we’ve asked you the last couple of weeks since you started, you’d already know these things.”
“You’re right, of course,” Ildaria said apologetically. “I’m just still trying to adjust to my working hours and living alone.”
“No, you’re not. You’re exhausted from all the shared sex dreams messing with your sleep,” Sofia countered easily, and then announced, “So is G.G. Half the time he looks like an exhausted zombie, and the other half he’s a grumpy bear. As are you,” she added, mouth pursing with displeasure and eyebrows arching on her forehead. “You really need to jump the poor man’s bones or something. Then he’ll pass out and maybe get some real sleep.”
When Ildaria didn’t respond, Sofia added, “We’d all appreciate it. We are not used to a grumpy G.G. The guy is usually a teddy bear, not a grizzly.”
Ildaria shook her head wearily. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to sleep with G.G. for your sake.”
“And yours,” Sofia assured her quickly. “I mean, you’re suffering the frustrations of hell at the moment, so . . .” Turning in her seat to face her, Sofia leaned her elbow on the island and raised her eyebrows. “Tell Mama all about it. What are shared sex dreams really like?”
Ildaria bit her lip, her thoughts turning to the dream she’d been having before Sofia had woken her. It was one of many she’d enjoyed the last two weeks. She’d had the first one her first night. She’d gone to bed in the lovely, comfortable bed from Marguerite’s home that they’d brought for her, and—exhausted from all the setup she’d done in the apartment that day, and then the hours she’d spent working before continuing with laundry and cleanup after taking H.D. up to her apartment until G.G. came to get him—Well, between all of that, she was nearly asleep before her eyes were fully closed.
G.G. had obviously been asleep already by then, because she’d fallen right into a dream. She’d found herself in the Night Club office, H.D. curled up in his basket, and her working in the tight pencil skirt and blouse she’d worn for her first night of work, and G.G. had come in to check on her. Only instead of just popping his head in and speaking for a few moments, he’d entered and crossed the room to come around the desk, his eyes smoldering as they slid over her body.
He hadn’t said a word. He’d simply reached out, caught her by the upper arms to lift her to her feet and then had clasped her face in his hands and claimed her lips.
G.G. was an amazing kisser. At least, he was in dreams, and Ildaria had hardly noticed when his hands had slid into her hair, delving through the strands until the neat bun she wore it in for work was gone and her hair was sliding down to curl around her face, neck, and shoulders.
He’d lifted his head then, saying in that deep sexy rumble of his, “I want you. You’re immortal and I know I shouldn’t. But I want you so damn bad.”
The next thing Ildaria knew, she was climbing him like a palm tree. While his mouth claimed hers again, and she responded, she was also tearing at his clothes, desperate to touch his skin. Ildaria wasn’t the only one. He was tugging her blouse out of her skirt, sliding his big hands under to span her waist before they began to rise. Ildaria had pushed his shirt up his stomach, and was eagerly running her hands over the wide expanse of his chest when he suddenly scooped her up and turned to set her on the desk.
G.G. nudged her knees apart, and moved forward to fill the space he’d created. He didn’t stop until he was pressing against her core, and then his kiss turned deep and voracious. His hands moved to the buttons of her blouse and suddenly it was undone, allowing him to tug it open to reveal a lacy black bra beneath that Ildaria had never seen before. Obviously, it was his input to the dream, which she didn’t mind at all. It looked much nicer than the white cotton bra and panty sets she always wore in reality. At least, that’s what she’d always worn up to now. Though, she had gone out and used some of her tip money from her waitressing job to buy a black lace set similar to the one he’d dreamed up. It was pretty and sexy and she only had one set, so couldn’t wear it every day in the hopes that something would happen. So, she hadn’t put it on at all yet. She was saving it for a “special” occasion.
“Oh my, sex in the office,” Sofia breathed, drawing her from the memory. “That is steamy. The whole secretary-boss thing, love on the desk, the risk of one of us entering unexpectedly and catching you. My, my, my.”
“Accountant-boss,” Ildaria muttered, feeling her face burn with embarrassment at Sofia’s reading her thoughts.
“Yeah. That might be a problem.”
Ildaria glanced up in question. “What?”
“His being the boss,” Sofia explained with a frown. “G.G. might look like a rebel, but he has a lot of honor. I suspect he would never hit on an employee. It would be too much like taking advantage of his position.”
Ildaria was frowning now too, sure G.G. had said something about her being his employee in the dream and sexual harassment or something. But until now, it hadn’t occurred to her that her working for him might be a problem.
“Which means you’ll have to do the hitting,” Sofia concluded with satisfaction. “He wouldn’t feel he was taking advantage if you jumped him. And it can’t be sexual harassment either, since you’re the underling.”
“Right.” Ildaria sighed the word unhappily, rather doubting she could do that. She didn’t have a lot of experience in such things . . . unless you counted the dreams she’d been sharing with G.G.
“Never say you’re a virgin?” Sofia whispered with amazement, obviously having caught her thoughts about her lack of experience.
Ildaria shook her head stiffly. “No. I’m not a virgin.”
Recognizing the way Sofia’s eyes were concentrating on her forehead, Ildaria began to recite a nursery rhyme, but either she wasn’t quick enough or it just didn’t work now that she’d met a possible life mate. She realized that when Sofia’s expression turned sympathetic.
Ildaria stiffened. If she showed her the least bit of pity—
“Right,” Sofia said firmly. “Well, maybe we could work on it.”
Ildaria blinked, her grim expression turning to bewilderment. “Work on what exactly?”
“On your lack of experience. We could have you practice.”
“Practice?” Ildaria roared, outraged at the very thought. What was she thinking? That Ildaria should go pick up some man and—
“Not the sex,” Sofia said with exasperation, obviously picking up her thoughts. “The showing that you’re interested part, flirting and how to hit on him and make your interest known. Or maybe we can come up with ways for you to show your interest in other ways. Like wearing a sexy negligee when G.G. arrives to pick up H.D. one morning after the club closes.”
She paused and pursed her lips briefly, and then said, “Although, you’d probably still have to make a move on him. I suspect other than your ripping his clothes off and tackling him to the floor, nothing short of a Fuck me sign hanging from around your neck when you answer the door is going to move him past his honorable disposition. If that even worked. It might make him worry there’s something wrong with you. Mentally.”
“The very fact that I’m sitting here listening to this nonsense proves there is something wrong with me mentally,” Ildaria said dryly.
“That and many other things,” Sofia agreed easily, but then softened the words by adding, “But then most of us have our issues. You can’t live life without gaining an issue or two along the way.”
Ildaria nodded at those words of wisdom, believing them wholeheartedly. She’d met a lot of people in her life, especially while sailing with Vasco. They’d lured a lot of people onto the ship, and almost all of them had had something in their minds that was distressing when she read them. Body issues, anger issues, memories of childhood abuse haunting their thoughts and actions. The few that had seemed well balanced and pretty much okay had been through some kind of counseling, easily read in their thoughts.
“Have you considered counseling?” Sofia asked softly.
Ildaria’s gaze shot to her and then away, but she just shook her head. She’d never been in a position to be able to afford counseling. Besides which, who could she go to? She couldn’t tell a mortal counselor or psychologist about being immortal.
“Marguerite’s son-in-law, Greg, is an immortal and some kind of psychologist or psychiatrist,” Sofia announced, obviously still picking up her thoughts. “Maybe he’d be willing to work out some kind of payment plan you could handle,” she suggested, and then added, “Failing that, Elijah says the university offers free counseling services to students. He’s taking medicine at the uni. Plans to be a doctor.”
“Si, he mentioned that,” Ildaria said. “But I can’t talk to a mortal counselor, Sofia.”
“Not about being an immortal, no,” she agreed, but then pointed out, “But a lot of your issues around sex seem to come from your childhood, when you were mortal. So if you stuck to that, the free counseling at university could work. Just avoid mentioning that your childhood was nearly two hundred years ago and you should be fine.”
Ildaria frowned at the suggestion, not at all comfortable with the thought of getting counseling.
“It’s up to you, of course,” Sofia said lightly, and then asked, “But would you really rather continue to carry around the trauma of your childhood for the hundreds or even thousands of years you might live?”
She let Ildaria think about that for a minute, and then said, “Hurry up and eat. Then get dressed. We’re going shopping.”
“Shopping?” Ildaria jerked her gaze back to the woman.
“For a nice little negligee or something. And romance novels.”
“Romance novels?” Ildaria asked with disbelief.
“They have lots of sex in them,” she said, as if that should explain the matter. It didn’t, and when Ildaria’s expression showed as much, she patiently explained, “For pointers. Maybe ideas on how to seduce him, or at least what to do with him. We need to move this train along before it goes off the tracks.”
Ildaria started to shake her head. “I can’t afford—”
“It’ll be my housewarming gift to you. I haven’t given you one yet.”
“No. You—”
“Ildaria, you’re running out of time,” Sofia said, her tone serious. “G.G. has been avoiding you as much as possible since the dreams started.”
Ildaria dropped her eyes, a frown tugging at her lips. She had noticed that she saw less and less of G.G. during their waking hours. It was only in dreams that they spent time together and while they did some talking and sharing, most of the dreams were taken up with sex. Constant, heart-stopping, wake up sweaty and exhausted sex.
“He’s really struggling with his attraction for you, I mean seriously struggling. He’s starting to fantasize about kidnapping you and having his way with you and it’s scaring the crap out of him. He’s afraid he’s becoming an obsessive stalker type guy. Which he kind of is. I mean, all life mates go through it, but he doesn’t understand that’s what’s happening, and just thinks he’s turning into a freak,” Sofia told her unhappily, just reaffirming what Ildaria had picked up on in the latest dream. “You need to get him into bed soon, or he’ll fly off to England to avoid you, or to save you from him. I’m not sure which it is. He’s pretty messed up right now.”
Ildaria bit her lip and admitted, “He mentioned something about England in the dream, but—” But her memories from the dream were already getting fuzzy. They always did. The only thing that remained long was the memory of the sex. What they talked about before or after, always faded quickly.
“He’s thinking about heading back home to London, England,” Sofia said quietly. “The original plan was for him to stay through the summer and spend the winter in England at the other club, before returning for the summer here again. But he’s started making noises about flying back early and leaving me fully in charge all the time now that everything seems to be working smoothly here.”
“Oh no,” Ildaria breathed. “You don’t think he’ll really do that, do you?” That would certainly make it hard for her to convince him to be her life mate.
“Yes, I do. He was putting out feelers last night, mentioning to everyone who entered the club that he has a nice apartment and good pay for anyone who wishes to take over his job as doorman,” she told her sadly. “It’s why I came to see you today.”
“Damn,” Ildaria breathed, dropping back in her seat.
“Yeah.” Sofia eyed her sympathetically. “You need to step up your game, Ildaria, or you might lose the chance. I suspect he’s uncomfortable enough with his feelings for you that he might not return at all. He’ll just leave me to run the place and stay in England.”
Ildaria sat still for a moment, her mind racing. The last two weeks had been wonderful in a way. She had her own place, and she loved her job. It was true she and G.G. hadn’t spent a lot of time together when not dreaming, but the truth was she’d been too tired to really worry about it too much. And it wasn’t just the shared dreams that had been making her tired. Aside from her double duty at the Night Club, Ildaria had been working at the restaurant as well. She’d given her notice two weeks ago and had rearranged her shifts so they wouldn’t interfere with her work hours here, but that still meant she had been missing a lot of sleep, and what sleep she had got was not very restful thanks to the shared dreams. Dreams G.G. didn’t even realize he was sharing with her.
“He knows about immortals. Why doesn’t he realize we’re having shared dreams?” she asked with bewilderment.
“From what I’ve read from his mind, while he does know about shared dreams, and did wonder at one point if that was what he was experiencing, in the end he decided not.”
“Why?” Ildaria asked with surprise.
“Because he doesn’t feel like you are really there,” Sofia said gently, and when Ildaria’s confusion showed in her expression, she explained, “You’re letting him have his way in the dreams. The settings come from his thoughts, as does what happens. You never take control yourself, you just kind of go along for the ride. That’s probably because you’re not all that experienced,” she added quickly. “But whatever the case, it’s convinced him that he’s just having these dream fantasies about you on his own, and they’re so powerful and incessant that he’s beginning to feel like a perv.” She let that sink in and then said, “While Marguerite was concerned about how he might react to finding out he’s a possible life mate to you, and I did too, I think at this point he’d be relieved that he isn’t just gaining an unhealthy obsession with you.”
They were both silent for a moment as Ildaria considered that and then Sofia said, “Come on then, go throw on some clothes and we’ll head out to find you sexy outfits and books to help you seduce G.G. You can eat your sandwich in the car.”
Even Ildaria was surprised when she slid docilely off her chair and headed for the bedroom without argument. But she had to do something or G.G. would fly off to England. If he did, she could lose him altogether. Ildaria couldn’t afford to follow him right away, and he was mortal. Accidents happened. She needed to step up her game, and she had no idea how to do that. She needed help.