Ted Dekker - The Bride Collector

Then she turned and walked toward the door. “I’ll be in the reception area if you need me. Oh, and I think the south lawn is the most private place on the grounds. At the pond behind the aspen grove. Paradise, you know the place.”

The pond. Why so far? It was near the fence, and Paradise avoided going so close to the fence at all costs.

“Paradise?”

“Yes. The pond, yes.”

“Good.”

And Allison was gone.

“Well.” Brad was smiling, a little red in the face himself. “That was a bit ridiculous.”

The comment eased her a bit. But she had to stay on point here. From the moment Allison had told her that Brad Raines was visiting CWI again, she’d been a complete mess. Within fifteen minutes she’d broken down and told Andrea, and the rest was history.

You would think that Romeo and Juliet had come back to life and were reuniting on these very grounds! The very fact that she’d allowed herself to entertain the most fleeting fantasies over these past few days was horribly embarrassing.

The fact that the mere sight of Brad made her palms wet now was downright shameful. She had to maintain control.

Brad cleared his throat. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Because Nikki’s dead,” she said. Then added, thinking her delivery too crude, “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. But you were right about the jack in the whole.”

“Allison showed us the last note. Roudy and Andrea spent a whole day on it, but they couldn’t come up with anything.”

“I think it was a note for me.”

“That’s what I told them.” She paused. “Did you love her?”

He blinked. “Nikki?”

What was she doing?

“Not like that, no,” he said. “But we were very close.”

Paradise almost asked him what he thought about her, but she caught the words in her throat before she made a fool of herself. The room was feeling stuffy and she was sweating, so when he said that maybe they should take Allison up on her suggestion to find some privacy near the pond, she jumped at it, fence or no fence.

She caught sight of Bartholomew’s Afro behind some bushes as they exited the women’s wing. Fortunately, they were headed away from him. They walked in silence, and her awkwardness grew. She became aware of every step she took. Her sandals, which she’d never worn until today, looked like something out of a bad Cleopatra movie. His leather shoes, on the other hand, looked like they might cost her full monthly allowance.

They were both wearing jeans, but hers were too short. Why were all her jeans too short? She’d never realized that until just these last few days.

Andrea had told her yesterday that her hair stank, so she’d washed it. Andrea always thought everyone’s hair stank. But now Paradise was thankful because she was walking just in front of him, and he was probably looking down on the top of her head at this very moment.

She couldn’t bear it any longer. So she stopped and let him pass her.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I need to fix my shoe; just keep going.”

She made a show of fixing the strap on her sandal and then followed when he continued down the sidewalk. If she stood on her tiptoes, the top of her head might reach his underarms. He was built like a god, Andrea had said. She had to agree.

Her mind spun with an image of Cleopatra inviting the newest servant, the strong, bare-chested specimen from the south who’d only just joined her court, to demonstrate how he shot his bow. She wanted lessons in the garden. Just the two of them. She must know precisely how he held the bow, and she walked up behind him as he flexed, bowstring drawn back tight. She traced his back and his arms with her delicate fingers as she studied his posture. His muscles were like vines beneath his skin. Suddenly, from behind a tree on their right, came his lover, a witch from the north who had cast a spell on…

“Okay, stop.” Brad halted, holding up his hand.

She plowed into his back, then scrambled back. “Sorry. Excuse me, I didn’t realize you were going to stop. If you would have told me, I would have gone around. I didn’t mean to run you over.”

He didn’t seem to care. “I can’t do this,” he said.

Dread spread down her face. “Me neither.”

“I just don’t feel right about it.”

“Exactly. I never did feel right. And they’re not really Cleopatra sandals.”

That stalled him. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. What were you talking about?”

“Allison said I should just be honest.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she agreed. “As opposed to lying, yes, she would say that, she used to be a nun. I mean, I would, too, of course. Honesty is always best, particularly around someone like me who despises a fake.”

“Really?”

“You like fakes?”

“Then you know why I’m here?”

“Because Nikki is… you know…” She made a motion with her hand but quickly gave up, realizing she didn’t know how to say dead without saying it. “Dead.”

“I mean… why I’m here with you,” he said.

She had no clue, because she was purposefully controlling her own mind and forbidding it to wander. Well, yes, she did have a clue. They were here to try to shake loose the memory of what she’d seen in the kitchen. The ghost. “To get me to remember…”

“And the only way to do that is to get you to trust me,” he said. “You realize that?”

“I do. And I already do trust you.”

“Yes but… I mean…” His eyes shifted, and he used his large, strong hands absently. The ones with trimmed nails. Her nails were trimmed as well, but with her teeth, which Andrea said was a nasty habit. Had she bitten her nails while he was watching? She couldn’t remember!

“More than just trust,” he was saying.

“Like what?”

“Like become comfortable with me. Release your fears. Whatever’s blocking your memory.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I think so. You want me to let go of my inhibitions so that my mind lets go, so to speak, and recalls what I saw.”

“Something like that. Yes.”

“But you’re afraid that we might get too emotionally involved,” she said.

His eyes widened slightly. She’d spoken too frankly, she knew that the moment the words had left her mouth, but seeing his reaction, she felt strengthened. She had some power over him. It was the first time she’d exercised this kind of power over a man like Brad, and she found it amazingly satisfying.

“You’re afraid I might fall in love with you,” she pressed. And now he blinked. Then blushed. Not much, but just enough to encourage her even more.

“Or that, however unlikely, you might fall in love with me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Well…” Now his face was bright red.

Then Paradise thought about everything she’d just said, and she felt her own face turn hot.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Raines. I have no intention of falling in love with you.” She walked past him. “Now come on, let’s go to the pond and see if we can’t figure this out.”

“Brad,” he said. “Please call me Brad.”

And for a moment she felt like his queen.

THEY SPENT AN hour at the large fountain that Allison called a pond, doing nothing but talking and walking about the stained concrete patio and sitting at one of the four benches, twirling aspen leaves and flicking small stones into the pool, yet it felt to Paradise like five minutes.

She kept looking back to see if any spies were peeking around the building, and when none appeared she decided that Allison must have set things in order. To think of it, here she was, Paradise Founder of all people, meeting with a man alone by the pond, and the whole center knew about it. It made her feel quite special.