Face Value

9. Where did you go?

   She removed her hand from mine and bent her head, staring at her feet. "No, I suppose it wouldn't." Although I knew that this was the truth, it still hurt to hear her admit it. 

  "But-" she continued. "But I don't want to marry a man that I don't love." 

  "Then don't," I whispered. "Don't marry him, Amelie." It was a rash thought but the small voice in my head  wanted to scream "MARRY ME!!"

  I jumped down from atop the unfinished building and stood in front of her legs . Placing one finger under her chin, I raised her face so that I could see the myriad of emotions dancing in her eyes. I could see that she was afraid. Afraid that she was settling; afraid that she was making a choice that she would regret.

   "You're right," I whispered, looking up into those mesmerizing orbs. "I love you Amelie-Nadine Durand and yes, I want you all to myself. Don't marry him. Don't marry a man you don't love. You deserve better than a forced marriage."

   She held my face between both her hands and I welcomed her warmth. "I can see that this isn't making you happy. You deserve to be happy, Nadine."

  "You make me happy," she whispered against my lips and then she captured mine in a sensuous kiss. I curled one hand into her chocolate brown hair and held her close, reciprocating the gentle passion that she was generating. She pressed her body against mine and I wanted to wrap myself in her warmth. A thousand emotions bubbled up in my chest: a sexual and primitive desire for her that intensified with every second, elation at the feeling of her lips on mine and a hope that just maybe, I had a chance. 

  And then she pulled away abruptly, leaving me breathless and wanting more of her. "I can't," she whispered almost sorrowfully with her forehead pressed against mine. In the moonlight, I could see a few tears sliding down her cheek and I brushed them away with my thumb. For the first time, I could see how conflicted she was. She took her hands off of my cheeks and ran them through my hair. 

 "You can. You don't owe that man or your brother anything," I tried to convince her.

   "You're such a sweet man, Damian." She pressed her soft lips to my forehead and climbed down from the building. A detached look settled on the delicate structures of her face. "In a perfect world, I would have the choice." Nadine turned her back to me and sauntered toward her tent without another word. The memory melted away. 

  The screeching of my phone brought me back to consciousness. 

   Still half-asleep and without opening my eyes, I reached over and grabbed my smartphone from the beside table and slid my thumb across the screen to silence the alarm. It was my daily alarm so I knew that it was now 6:45 a.m. I tried to sit up with a groan but my body protested, proof that I had really only had about five hours of sleep. The more intense feeling, however, was that of guilt. Surely this must quantify as cheating somehow, that there was another woman on my mind rather than my wife but I knew that what I'd seen just moments before was not just a dream. It was a genuine memory and I felt genuine emotions. 

  Unlike in the first dream or rather, the vision, I didn't feel as though I was spectating. With Amelie's attack, I felt like a phantom experiencing a moment of clairvoyance. I'd seen what had happened to her before I had read its mention in her journal and in far more detail than she described and that puzzled me more than anything. In fact, the term clairvoyance really seemed like the more apt explanation for what had happened. I'm Catholic so I believe to a certain extent, in the supernatural but I was skeptical of the idea of anyone being able to see into the past or the future. I doubted even more so that I could be one of those people. But regardless of how I came across this information, the important thing, the next best move for me would be to find Amelie-Nadine. I had to fill in the blanks between her attack and my wife's kidnapping. I had to establish some form of a motive. 

   I jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. 

----------

  It hadn't taken me long to get cleaned up. I showered and dressed quickly in the dark jeans and crew neck tee that I'd brought from my car. The Browning Hi-Power was strapped onto my body in my hip holster. My thoughts were scattered the entire time. I was standing in front of the small mirror in the tiny bathroom, observing the shadow of a beard that was forming on my jawline. It had grown thicker since I'd first seen it the day before.  For a moment, I imagined that I wasn't here; that I had gone back in time to the previous morning when I was still at home in the bathroom in our master bedroom. 

   I was getting ready in front of the mirror and contemplating whether or not I should attempt to shave the stumble that was forming. Alice came up behind me, wrapped her slender arms around my bare waist and pressed feather-like kisses against the exposed skin on my back. "You're such a beautiful man," she murmured. I felt the gentle flick of her tongue against my skin between kisses and her fingers danced up the front of my chest. "When I first saw you, I thought you must be such a conceited asshole with a face like that. All the women in that club were drooling over you into their drinks but you were so oblivious."

   I chuckled, gazing at the two us in the mirror. She rested that angelic face surrounded by a halo of soft, blond waves against the side of my bicep. I could feel all of her pressed against me through the thin, satin rope she was wearing and coupled with the feeling of her lips against my back and her hands skating across my chest, I was becoming more aroused by the second. "The men there drooled over you too." 

   I could remember the way she looked in that red cocktail dress, a vision of sultry sensuality, as if it were yesterday. That had been the first time I'd set foot in a club. Against my protests, a few friends took me out for my birthday. I regretted it then but standing here, next to this beauty, I couldn't help but be grateful that I'd let them drag me out. 

"But you're anything but what I thought you were. I'm so lucky to have you,"Alice whispered, with a kiss on my bicep. In one fluid motion, I turned around in her arms, breaking her hold on me, grabbed her by the waist and sat her down on top of the bathroom counter top. She squealed with delight. 

   "I couldn't be luckier to have you, tesorina mia." It was an Italian endearment that meant 'my little treasure'. My wife was part Italian from her father's side and Irish on her mother's, so the phrase always made her blush. "I love you,"I murmured, mesmerized by the glint in those beautiful blue eyes and kissed her sweetly.

   I missed her; just remembering the feel of her lips on mine and the calmness of her voice brought an intense feeling of emptiness. With a sigh, I walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the mattress to put on my boots. The phone on the desk began to ring as I was grabbing my trench coat from the closet. I crossed the room as quickly as possible and placed the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

  "Oh my gosh, " came a female voice that I recognized as the front desk concierge's from the front office. "I don't even know your name but I think this is for you," she murmured absentmindedly. "Well someone left a package for a guy named Damian and I thought that's such a sexy name, it must belong to a really sexy guy and you're the only gorgeous man that's bought a room here, so....Oh lord I'm rambling."

  I forced a laugh. "Its alright, Lily. Yes, that's my name. But don't tell anybody." I said the last as playfully as possibly. 

  "Oh you remembered my name," she responded with a nervous giggle. "And of course I won't tell anyone. You can pass by and pick it up whenever, darling." Again, I wondered if that Southern accent was genuine or forced. 

   "Alright, I'll be there in a minute."  I hung up and grabbed my cellphone.