Celeste thought of him, the way he’d looked right before she’d been pulled away. His muscled body gloriously naked before her as he lay on the bed, the most tempting male she’d ever seen. Broad shoulders, even broader because of his arms tied to the post. His chest, heaving with thick, ragged breaths as she crawled on top of him and kissed that part of him that was so hard, so ready and so deliciously responsive.
She’d never thought she would have the nerve to do that to a man. No, that wasn’t true. She’d dreamed of doing that to a man, if she ever found a man she wanted that much. But she’d had a fear, not of actually doing it, but of not doing it well.
She thought of Dax’s powerful growl through his release.
Oh, yes, she’d done it well. And she’d do it again.
She was going back through to him today; one way or another, she’d make Adeline let her through. She had to. It’d been, what, two days? Three? She wasn’t certain, having lost track of time when she’d rested down that other path, but she didn’t care how long had passed. What mattered now was how long she could stay this time.
“You’re stronger,” Adeline said.
Celeste nodded. “Much stronger.”
It’d nearly killed her when she’d found her way to the middle, saw the little girl-Angelle-on her way to see Dax, and wasn’t allowed to go with her. She’d still felt weak, but she’d thought if she could just get to Dax, she’d feel better. But Adeline hadn’t budged. Today, though, she would. Celeste would make sure of it.
“And your clothes,” Adeline said, nodding. “I like the change.”
Celeste looked down at the long, sage-green tunic. It was lightweight and sheer, with a feminine lettuce edging along the hem, and it was paired with a pair of winter-white capris that stopped at her calves. She was barefoot, like before, but her toes were painted a sparkling pink. Why had she changed from the white gown? How had she? She hadn’t done it intentionally.
“Oh, chère, I’m sorry. I assumed you’d already noticed the new apparel. Evidently you were doing much better.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they put you in regular clothes,” the woman said matter-of-factly.
“Who put-” Celeste stopped when a pinprick of light forced its way through the middle wall, then grew wider and wider. “No. I’m not going.”
“Oh, come over here, chère,” Adeline instructed, wrapping an arm around Celeste, then pulling her to one side. “It isn’t for you this time. Hurry. Several are coming.”
The light grew brighter and brighter, bigger and bigger, until it claimed the majority of the wall and Celeste had to shield her eyes, and then a large mob of people appeared. Adults and children alike bustled through. They chatted and laughed as they passed, apparently oblivious to the two women standing against the wall.
The light grew even larger, even brighter, then absorbed them all, before going away. The scene reminded Celeste of the day when she’d been in the bus accident that brought her here the first time, with Chloe and all of the other children and counselors that were on their way to camp. Back then, Celeste had felt a pull toward the light, but she’d fought against its lure in order to stay and help Chloe, who hadn’t wanted to go in until she saw her parents once more. Of all the times Celeste had seen the light, that time its draw had been the strongest.
She realized now that during every previous instance when she’d seen it, she’d felt some type of pull toward it, a desire to step closer and sink into it. But she didn’t feel that this time, and she wondered why.
“Plane crash,” Adeline said. “Red-eye flight. Most of them were sleeping and didn’t feel a thing. One minute, they were asleep, and the next they were here, but it was their time, and they didn’t have any unfinished business. If any of them had, I’d have needed to get some of the grandkids to help.”
“Did Dax help Angelle?” Celeste asked.
“He’s in the process of helping her.” Adeline smiled. “Well, I say that he’s helping her. The truth is, that little girl merely needed to be pointed in the right direction and told how to see her parents, and then she could take care of herself. Not a very tough case for my youngest grandson, but I typically send all of the children his way. He’s so good with kids, like you.”
“I wanted to be an elementary-school teacher,” Celeste said.
“I know, chère. You’d be a good one, too.” She tilted her head as though picturing Celeste in front of a blackboard. “I could see my Dax ending up with a teacher. The two of you would be a good match, but you already know that, don’t you?”
“I want to see him,” Celeste insisted. “I’m strong enough now, aren’t I?”
“Yes, chère, you are, but last time the two of you tested your fate. You stayed too long, or exerted yourself too much-” she held up a hand “-and no, I don’t know exactly how you became so exhausted so quickly, nor do I need to know. I’m just stating that if you want to stay longer on that side, with Dax, you’ll need to practice some form of moderation in your activities.”
Celeste grinned. “I promise-let me through now.” She paused, then added, “Please.” She waited, and when Adeline didn’t move toward Dax’s door, she said more firmly, “I’m not leaving this room until I see him, and I’m not going into the light. Not yet.”
“I’ve never met another living soul so determined,” Adeline said. “Well, I take that back. He’s determined too, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.” Celeste stepped past Adeline and watched the doorway to the left, Dax’s path, slowly open. “I can go now?”
“I won’t stop you, chère. And don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that you care so much about my Dax, and that he cares so much about you, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Dax would never hurt me,” Celeste said, hugging Adeline before starting down the darkened path.
“I’m not worried about him hurting you, dear,” Adeline said, her voice growing faint as Celeste moved farther away. “I’m worried about you hurting yourself.”
DAX ROLLED OVER, slammed a fist into his pillow and stared at the red numbers on the digital clock beside the bed: 3:27.
At least he’d slept for a few hours. That’s more than he could say about last night, when he was so mad at the powers that be that he’d fumed and cussed all night long, not that it had helped.
Celeste hadn’t come.
But exhaustion had prevailed tonight, and he’d slept a whopping four hours. Not bad for a guy this pissed, or this much in need of sex. In spite of the staggering orgasm she’d given him four days ago, Dax’s body still burned for something more. He wanted to touch her, now that he knew he could. To run his mouth over every tantalizing indention, every curve, every nuance composing the woman who’d thoroughly captivated his heart, his soul. He wanted to taste her, the way she’d tasted him, and he wanted to feel her sweet heat surround him, to push himself deep inside and find out if they were even hotter joined together than they were when they touched.
“Damn.” He growled the word with as much ferocity as he could manage and hoped that the powers that be were listening. There was no way Celeste wasn’t strong enough to make it over again. She’d come back the very same day last time. Now she’d been gone four agonizingly long days, and he was tired of waiting.
“Is it that bad?”
He jerked around to face the owner of the voice who was standing near his bed. “Mon dieu, you made it through.”
Celeste was glowing, shimmering, from the top of her blond head to the toes of her bare feet. Dax took her all in, the silvery-gray eyes that seemed to zero in on his chest before glancing down to where the sheet now pooled at his waist, the smile that set his pulse on fire, the curvy hips and legs that were showcased beautifully by fitted short pants…
She stood there and allowed him to examine her thoroughly, and to verify that he wasn’t dreaming, then she smiled a little brighter. “I have new clothes.” She waved a hand down her body. “No idea where they came from, but I like them.”