The girl retreated into the darkness of the vault, away from the patch of light coming in from the street lamp. Dario took in the vision before him, his breathing subdued. He couldn’t speak, his mouth had dried up and his mind drew a blank. His legs froze. Is it truly Irena? Everything about the woman convinced him it was her, except her hair color. Instead of her silky, golden locks, short brunette tresses barely reached her eyebrows. Her once slim frame seemed fuller in all the right places.
If he approached her, would she vanish? He took a tentative step. A piece of broken glass scraped the ancient cobblestone under his shoe, he halted.
A slow smile curved her ruby lips. Her hand, clad in the white, knitted glove reached from under her red cloak. “It is me.”
He took her offered hand, her fingers curled around his. “Tell me this is a dream. I don’t want to wake up.”
“Then keep on dreaming.” She cupped his face with her free hand, her perfume the subtle hint of citrus strongest on the inside of her wrist, intoxicating. “Thank God I found you.”
He threaded his fingers through her thick hair. Could he get used to this dark tone? “Your hair, it’s different.”
“I’m trying to get used to it. It’s temporary, needed a change.” In the next instance, her lush lips lifted to his. At first, her lips merely brushed his, then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. The fear he’d wake any second and discover she’d turned into a wisp of smoke gripped him, but he pushed down on the tightness in his gut. This was real, not his imagination, and hell if he wasn’t going to make the most of it.
The cold stone wall stung his back through the thin denim fabric of his shirt. He couldn’t remember when she’d backed him against the building. Once she deepened her kiss and her tongue slipped into his mouth, he uttered a deep moan and wrapped her in his arms. His body had not forgotten her, the tingle of nerves returned and assured him his girl was back in his arms. It wasn’t until her frantic fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt that he regained a smidgeon of composure. He wanted to peel her clothes off, taste every inch of her, leave her limp and begging for more.
“M-m-m…Irena, babe.” He breathed next to her lips. “As much as I’d love to relive our teenage days, I’d like to get away from this cold air.”
She pulled back, her beautiful pale blue eyes fixed on his. “A few things are worthy of discomfort, but if you can, sneak me into your room—”
Laughter burst from his chest. The days of sneaking her into his parent’s house through the window were long gone, but Irena wouldn’t know his life had soared from the threshold of poverty. “I can do much better.” He placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’m parked two blocks from here.”
Her gaze lowered, but not before sadness filled her eyes. A mysterious smile played on her lips. She traced her finger down his torso, her voice almost a whisper. “Incredible, your dad’s old Skoda is still drivable. We made some grand memories on the back seat.”
He swallowed audibly, restraining the urge to take her here. It wouldn’t do, in his fantasies, he took her to his bachelor pad and made love to her all night in every conceivable position. “No, babe, rusty Skoda was towed to the salvage yard years ago. It was hard to part with that car. When she left it felt like my memories went with her.” He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I drive a black BMW now. Let’s move on, the night won’t wait.”
She tugged on his hand and made him stop. “We can’t be seen together. I’ll meet you by the bridge in twenty minutes.”
“What?” Confusion mixed with sudden panic. He shook his head. “No. I’m not letting you go.”
Her sigh told him she didn’t want to part either, but the resolve in her unyielding gaze convinced him that now was not the time to argue. “What if you aren’t there? Where can I find you?”
“I’ll be there.” She pulled the hood over her head. “Go now. And make sure you’re not being followed.”
Tension filled his chest and stiffened his neck. “Who’d follow me?”
“You’re wasting time with questions.” Nimble like a shadow, she bolted out of the vault and kept to the high medieval wall lining the road along the harbor, street lights reflecting on its still waters. Her feet made no sound on the stone paved street of the Old Town.
A heavy sigh failed to relax tension in his shoulders on his way to his car. The way she’d acted suggested she was afraid. He halted. What kind of man was he, fetching his car instead of following her in case she got into a trouble? He turned in the direction she’d left, but he couldn’t spot the red cloak. His only option was to wait for her at the meeting place.
His heart pounded and his hands shook. He barely fit the key in the ignition. The engine purred, and he drove like a maniac through the abandoned streets, the lights and shadows changed in equal intervals.
He arrived at the bridge in less than ten minutes, but there was no red cloak. His happiness plummeted to his stomach. Stupid, why on Earth had he let her go?
A group of young and rowdy partygoers made their way toward him. Irena, in her red hood, tugged a couple of steps behind them, pretended to be a part of the group. Smart, if she was hiding from someone, she was less likely to be spotted in a crowd. Reaching his car, she slipped inside. No one in the bunch turned their heads at her action.
“Drive,” she ordered, strapping the seatbelt.
“Who were those guys?” He turned the car around and drove away.
She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “No idea, I used them for my cover.”
He gave her a side-glance. “Would you care to explain what’s going on?”
“Someday. Right now, I want to enjoy your company.” She glided her hand over his thigh. “My, there’s some leg muscle under these pants.”
The roses in her cheeks and her pale blue eyes sparkled like two jewels made him suppress taking her into the backseat and ravishing her. He still had trouble believing this was not one of his make-beliefs. Many nights he’d walk the empty city streets alone and pretended she was right beside him. Not tonight. He should press her for an explanation, but knowing her, she’d come clean on her own terms.
Now alone with her, both his hands on the steering wheel, not touching her, sitting next to her, keeping control of himself and the speeding vehicle, proved harder than anything he’d ever tried before. She wasn’t making it easy with her closeness and her busy hands fondling his thigh. Thank God for the transmission and parking brake between them, or he’d let the car go off- road. No matter how much he desired her, the hairs on the nape of his neck were on full alert. Something was wrong…very wrong.
She giggled a throaty, naughty chuckle. He groaned in frustration. She glided her hand to his groin and gave him a light squeeze on his swelled cock. “Where’s the fire?”
“In my trousers, you know it full well, you little vixen.” Oh good, the light ahead was changing. He pressed his foot on the brake and brought the car to a screeching halt. Then he leaned toward her, cupped her chin and pulled her to him.
“Come here,” he whispered, capturing her lips with his.
