WHISPER OF A TRYST

by

Christine Poe

Anna Bentley awoke drowsily to a firm masculine body pressing intimately against her. The whisper of his tender lips caressed her neck in nuzzling little kisses. Her breast tingled to the touch of his large callused hand massaging it to full titillation. She sighed dreamily as her mind suddenly came to total responsive awareness. Her eyes flew wide open only to reveal the empty moonlit bedroom. She sat bolt upright and searched the room’s dim corners. Surely, no dream could be so vivid?

“Why me?” She rubbed her temples in complete frustration.

Once again, the same highly erotic dream had disturbed her sleep. It meant something significant. Her nocturnal lover was trying to tell her something. Maybe it was time to move on with her life, give up the past and begin anew. She tossed back the bedcovers and walked over to the open window. In the distance, she could hear the pounding surf calling to her poetic soul. She sighed. She wanted a place to belong and someone to love her. Not just anyone. She wanted the kind of man who existed only in her dreams and a love to last for all time.

Anna took a step back toward her bed and paused. Catching her eye, a long white envelope glowed in the moonlight as it lay on the nightstand. She reached down to pick up the letter. Postmarked from Mendocino, California, April 2001, the short letter held the answer to her future. She thought the letter a joke at first, but last week she had called the attorney’s phone number and he told her it was legitimate. She had inherited an old Victorian home in Mendocino County at a stranger’s bequest.

~ * ~

“Oh, my!” Anna’s startled gasp brought the young attorney immediately to her side in the entry hall of the old house. They stood in curious contemplation before the portrait of a middle-aged man. The strong magnetic pull she felt toward the life-sized image nearly took her breath away.

“Do you like oil paintings?” Mr. Thornton asked, straightening his tie. He glanced quickly around the hall before his attention settled upon the portrait.

“Not usually,” Anna said with a sigh, wondering why the man was behaving so oddly. Sure, the house had a musty smell from being closed up, but it wasn’t all that bad. She fiddled with the end of her tawny blonde braid as she returned her gaze to the alluring painting. “Who is this guy?”

“Perhaps he was the first Duncan, a sea captain. Uh, as I understand it, he lived here at Duncan’s Point until his tragic death at sea...late eighteen hundreds, I believe.”

“To die at sea—how awful!”

She scrutinized the man in the portrait. A distinguished gentleman in a dark suit stared back at her, looking nothing like a salty old sea captain her creative imagination would dig up. His aura gave off an authoritative air that he must have emanated in life, whether on land or at sea.

Unruly chestnut hair fell in waves about a ruggedly handsome face, making him seem vaguely familiar. A sensual smile tilted up one side of his mouth creating a slight dimple in his left cheek—a very roguish dimple that bespoke of a teasing nature. His unusual sapphire blue eyes twinkled with laughter, making her wish she could sample his charm in person. In fact, his whole expression held a mischievous sparkle that tugged at her heart.

She heard a strangled gasp at her side and turned in time to observe a worried expression cross Mr. Thornton’s peaked face. She had been so caught up in her detailed examination of the portrait that she had completely forgotten her companion. The poor man! He looked about ready to exit the house at break-neck speed.

“Are you okay?”

He blinked several times and nodded. “Y-y-yes. I’m—I’m just fine.”

Quite unexpectedly, goose bumps rose on her skin. She was not a bit afraid, but something was definitely going on in here. Her five senses were running in chaos. She had never visited this particular old house before, yet she felt welcome. A strange sort of welcome, almost like a homecoming.

Mr. Thornton cleared his throat to a froggy croak. “The Duncan family made their great fortune in logging, an extremely lucrative business in the 1890s, as I recall my California history.”

For the moment, Anna didn’t care a hoot about history, only the odd sensation silently filling her soul. She rubbed her small icy hands across her bare arms and turned back to face the attorney. It was peculiar how he could more or less ignore the undercurrent in this house. Another glance at his pale face told her she was wrong. He appeared to have his fear under control, but he was definitely fearful of something.

Glancing around, she wished she could understand the complex emotions assaulting her senses. Not that the house was haunted, she didn’t believe in ghosts. Still, there was something chilling, something a bit elusive floating in the air about them. It was almost as if the place had feelings of its own.

All in all, if she really was the sole inheritor of this piece of property, it would be a wish come true…a place of her very own, far away from the crowded city. She would have a beautiful home overlooking the scenic Pacific Ocean and surrounded by lush green pine trees reaching for clear blue sky. She would be in heaven.

A sudden heavy scent filled the room around them, its aromatic intensity nearly stifling. The startled gaze of the attorney let her know he could smell it too. Their eyes met just as an icy gust blew through the hall. They both looked up toward a tinkling noise coming from high above them. Suspended from the ceiling of the wide curving staircase a huge three-tier chandelier caught the sudden air movement. Hundreds of tiny crystal droplets crashed restlessly together in a cacophony of sound.

“Who would abandon a wonderful old place like this and leave it to me—a perfect stranger?” She inquired as the noise slowly decreased in volume.

“Y-y-you know, I can’t tell you exactly who your benefactor is, Ms. Bentley. Didn’t you say you were adopted? Perhaps someone from your biological family kept tabs on your whereabouts over the years.” A nervous cough caught in his high-pitched voice and he politely turned away until he had gotten it under control.

“Are you sure you are quite all right, Mr. Thornton?” She watched his face pale even more in the shaft of yellow sunlight shimmering across the hall from the front door’s oval window. He played anxiously with the keys in his hands, feeding her suspicious nature. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you think this place is haunted. Do you?”

“No!”

His quick retort fell short of the truth. A grown man afraid of an empty old house made her want to laugh. She suppressed the rude urge and waited patiently for his upcoming explanation.

“I have a bit of a chill, that’s all,” he said, stuffing his fists into his bright red blazer pockets. “It has nothing to do with this house.”

“Oh? Is that why you’re so jumpy?”

His gaze shot erratically around the room like a Ping-Pong ball. “You must remember men are much braver than women.”

“Only if we let them be.” Anna released the light laugh tickling her insides. She truly could not help herself. Now she understood the near petrified expression on his face. “Mr. Thornton, I honestly think you believe in ghosts.”

“Hardly!” He blinked several times, and then attempted to cover a fake cough with his fist. “Now—as I told you before—the last person to live here was a direct descendent of the Duncan family. A medical doctor who went away quite suddenly about a year ago.”

“All the more reason to suspect foul play.” Anna tossed the braid over her shoulder and placed her hands on her hips getting ready for battle. It didn’t seem fair he would not tell her from whom she had inherited the property, or even why she was selected. “How did your law firm hear about this house if the doctor disappeared?”

“The family attorney handling the estate turned it over to us. Of course, it took a bit of time to locate you in the vast Bay area.” He pulled at his snug white shirt collar and loosened his perfect herringbone tie. He was breaking out in a cold sweat.

“I really think you should sit down,” she said, sincerely feeling sorry for the man. “You are beginning to look like a ghost yourself. Let’s go into the parlor where you can rest for a while.”

“No—thank you.” He looked a little sheepish. “To be quite truthful, Ms. Bentley, I have heard a few rumors about this place. Apparently, the house does have the reputation of being haunted. You know, stories about lights turning on at night, that sort of thing. All the usual stuff that circulates when a house sits unoccupied for any length of time.” He grimaced as he peered nervously into the parlor.

Anna hid her smile of amusement. She didn’t believe in the supernatural. She didn’t understand the odd sensation she was experiencing at the moment or the drafty entry hall, but she was probably just picking up on the attorney’s hard case of the jitters. She did want to become more accustomed to the house itself, so she decided to move in as soon as possible.