N. Walters: Fabric of Fate

Audrey sat down on the floor and began to paw through the vibrant fabric. There were exotic silks with golden and silver embroidery from the Middle East and Asia, homespun cotton in tribal designs from Africa, designer fabric from Europe and America. Some of it was modern and some was vintage. All of it was beautiful.

“What’s this?” Audrey pulled out a piece of tapestry work. The design was about two by three. Not very big but absolutely stunning. A stone building that resembled a small castle was perched below a towering mountain. Beyond it she could see the ocean. It was incredibly realistic. She could almost hear the waves washing the shoreline.

She held it up to the light. “Why don’t I remember this?” And she should have. The workmanship was amazingly intricate but she didn’t think it was machine manufactured. She examined it more closely. “This is hand done.” And whoever had made it was a true artist.

Two men stood in front of the building, both tall and strong. Their hair was long and flowing. Their chests were bare. A tingling started deep in her core.

“Wow. Talk about realistic.” She really needed to get out more if seeing two gorgeous men on a piece of fabric was turning her on.

Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even been on a date. Her last serious boyfriend had been Tom and that had ended almost six years ago. It hadn’t been a traumatic breakup. He’d taken a job transfer and she hadn’t been willing to follow him, hadn’t loved him enough to leave her position.

Why hadn’t she dated since?

The answer was obvious. Work.

A chill broke out on her skin. “You shouldn’t be sitting on the floor when you have a perfectly good bed only a few feet away.” She shoved the cloth back into the box, all the while promising herself she’d take a better look at it tomorrow. She even had some old sketchbooks stuffed in her bookshelf. She’d dig them out too and look at some of her old designs.

She knew she probably wouldn’t leave her job at Claymore and Butler. Positions like hers weren’t easy to come by, especially in this economy, and she made damn good money. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t start having a more balanced life, one that included hobbies from her past.

Audrey picked up the tapestry to stuff it in the box with the other fabric, but at the last second decided to take that one with her. She really couldn’t remember purchasing it. She shuffled back to the bed and set the tapestry aside while she finished her dinner and watched an old black-and-white Audrey Hepburn movie that was playing on television. Her mother had loved the actress and had named her only daughter after her.

Audrey was nodding off by the time the movie ended. She made herself get up long enough to return her tray to the kitchen, take her vitamins and one of the sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed and stop at the bathroom. Then it was back to bed where she pulled the covers around her and slipped into sleep.

She was warm when she woke and pushed at the robe wrapped around her. She hadn’t turned the heat up. There was no reason for her to be this warm. Usually she was cold.

Some strange sound caught her attention and she sat up, shoving her unruly hair out of her eyes. She blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing. A fire crackled cheerily in a large, stone hearth not ten feet from the end of the bed. The sound she’d heard must have been the pop and crackle of the wood as it burned.

This wasn’t right. She didn’t have a fireplace. Of course she didn’t. She lived on the sixth floor of a brick building in Manhattan. She shoved at the covers and paused when her hands hit something soft and…furry. It wasn’t her heirloom quilt covering her but some kind of animal pelt.

She rubbed her eyes but the picture didn’t change.

A low rumble next to her made her jump. A long, muscular arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back down onto the mattress. “You should sleep,” the unknown male told her.

Her heart skipped a beat before it started a galloping pace. Sweat popped out on her forehead. For a second she wondered if she was having another panic attack. She froze, unable to move, unwilling to do anything to provoke the large male beside her while her mind scrambled for a logical explanation.

There was enough light from the fire for her to partially see his features. They were masculine to the extreme with a heavy jaw, wide forehead, a long, straight nose and full lips. He blinked and she wished she could see exactly what color his eyes were.

Her first thought was that he could make a fortune as a male model. Women would buy anything from this guy. Her second thought was to wonder if he had an agent and how could she get him for the Baxter campaign she was currently working on. Her third thought, and the one that probably should have been her first, was who the heck was he and what was he doing in bed with her?

He propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at her. He had long hair that flowed over massive shoulders and sculpted biceps. Audrey’s mouth went dry. The man was built. And he was also at least half naked. She didn’t know about the bottom half of him, which was covered by the fur blankets.

She yanked her robe closer around her.

He smiled at her. Not a big one with pearly whites showing, but a tiny one that barely lifted the edges of his sculpted lips. “If you don’t want to sleep I can think of something better to do.” Fingers lightly trailed over her face and she caught her breath as they grazed her jaw and neck.

“Where am I? Who are you?” Intelligent questions and ones she should have asked from the moment she’d opened her eyes.

“I am Abrah Dannon and you are in my dream.” Strangely enough, his explanation calmed her racing heart. Of course this had to be a dream. She was home in her own bed all by herself.

Strange how the thought depressed her.

He tugged at the covers and she briefly resisted, but he kept up a steady pressure. In the end, she gave up the struggle and the covers drifted down to her waist. He gave a low grunt of pleasure as he tugged the sides of her robe open, exposing a huge swath of skin.

“Hey.” She smacked at his hands. “What are you doing?”

He captured her hand with his and brought it to his lips, dropping kisses on each knuckle. “I am enjoying my dream.” There was a tinge of amusement in his voice that made her frown.

She wasn’t here for anyone’s enjoyment. She was here… Well, she wasn’t sure why she was here. Her brain was fuddled, her reflexes slow. In the few seconds she’d been thinking, Abrah had the belt to her robe undone and had spread the edges wide, baring her breasts for him to see.

Audrey knew she really should protest and she planned to. Really she did. But he covered one breast with his large, work-roughened hand and she was lost. She gasped and then moaned as he brushed one soft areola with his thumb. The light motion caused it to pucker into a tight bud.

Her toes curled and her skin flushed. When was the last time she’d felt sexual desire? She couldn’t honestly remember. Which was why she was probably having this very sensual dream.

“Relax,” he soothed. His hand left one breast and went to the other. “Let us pleasure you.”

She moaned again and then his words sank in. Us . What did he mean by that? The mattress depressed on her other side and she swung her head around. Her mouth dropped open as another equally handsome man climbed into bed beside her.

He smiled at her and she could see the wicked mischief reflected in his eyes. She found herself smiling back even though she didn’t know why. “What do we have here, brother?” His voice was deep, like Abrah’s and it sank into every cell in her body.