Chapter 73 A tragedy
DAINE
It was Berlin, 1923. The last time I saw Nymphaea alive. Her third lifetime, as Astre.
Even as the curtains of the dream parted in my mind, I knew it was a dream. But I could not pull myself out.
Like all the dreams from the past that afflicted me, I was doomed to relive the pain.
To repeat one of the most horrible days of my life, even though it felt like a knife against my ribs.
“Mordaine,” she moaned now, warm and squirming in my arms, her bright gold hair splayed on the pillows like erotic art.
Every time I ran my fingers through it, it spilled over like fine silk, catching the sunlight.
I trailed my tongue from her lips down to the hollow of her neck, my fingers jerkingly untying the many strings of her night dress between us. “I love you.”
Her eyes opened, bright with amusement. She grabbed the neckline of the dress and ripped it.
I groaned.
gods. The things I would do for this woman.
She grabbed my face and pulled me down to her lips, widening her legs as I pushed a thigh up between them.
Her lips were hungry, wrestling with mine for dominance, impatient the way only Nymphaea could be.
She rolled on top of me now, staring down at my face with that vibrant fire in her eyes.
For a second, I lay there, unmoving, just appreciating the unbelievable beauty that was her.
If there was any good thing to this reincarnation jinx, it was the fact that she always returned with the same lovely gold hair and green eyes.
Slightly different faces, but the hair and eyes stayed the same.
“Want to paint a picture of me, Meine Liebe?” she teased, lowering her face to mine as she moved her hips upward till her pussy was hovering right above my erection.
“Mon amour,” I corrected, sucking on her lower lip. “Ma chere.” I squeezed her ass, soft, so bloody soft, through the mint green silk nightdress. “Don’t forget who you are. That’s where the danger lies…”
I hated that she insistently spoke Deutsch instead of French. Especially when upper-class women like herself considered French a thing of Prestige in this era.
“I'll speak whatever I like, Mordaine,” she moved her head and sunk her teeth into my neck.
I raised my hand to spank her when a knock sounded at the door.
We froze.
“How many goddamn times would I…”
Astre pressed her mouth down on mine, silencing me. She sucked on my lips, grinding them under hers, moving from top to bottom, and then top again.
But as my tongue prodded, she giggled and pulled away.
“What do you want, Salome?” She called out to the housekeeper.
Only our oldest domestic staff would dare knock on our closed bedroom door.
“Mr Adler is here Ma’am.”
“For the love of all that’s freaking good.”
Astre bounced off the bed, laughing loudly now. Her voice filled the room like a carol, warming my chest.
I sighed in defeat. “Can I not have my wife to myself for one bloody day without having to see freaking Konrad’s face?”
“Come now, my darling.” She winked, and turned towards the dressing room to the west of the bedroom. “You don’t see me complaining when your general comes knocking.”
She pushed the double doors and disappeared into the room. But her voice still reached me clearly. "In fact, I go the extra mile of being a good hostess.”
“You know he’d spank you if you didn’t.” I called out.
Her laughter streamed out the open doors, and I heard the jerking sounds of wooden cabinets opening and shutting again. “Hale is no brute. I truly have never met a finer gentleman than him.”
I snorted, sitting up in the canopied bed.
Another laugh.
“And your husband? What am I?”
“A bad host if you don’t come say hello to Konrad.” Wooden heels echoed, and she stepped out of the dressing room, forgetting to shut the doors.
She stood in a polka-dotted calf-length skirt, a matching shirt with a high neckline, and a cute little bow tie.
Her hair was up in a ponytail now, and it bounced as she walked over to the night stand to grab a stick of cigarette.
I stared at her round ass as she walked out the door without another word to me.
With another defeated sigh, I got dressed, closed the door to the dressing room, and walked out of the bedroom.
In the living room, I found her sitting before the piano, music sheets rustling between her fingers as she frowned.
Her German manager, Konrad Adler, was leaning over her shoulder like he was her goddamn music tutor. “Hold the last line just a fraction longer. Let the hall feel it just before you move.”
He heard me then and looked up with a smile, “Mr Ashborne.”
“You should call me by my first name if we share a wife.”
There was a pause, and then he laughed.
I stopped beside them, and stared out the windows overlooking Ku’damm. Astre shot me a skeptical look.
Sue me, but I couldn't help my jealousy.
It was bad enough that I had to fight over her with this bloody reincarnation jinx and the Firstborns.
But then, in every lifetime, there was another man.
The first time it had been one of my own French guards, and then that soft-eyed cousin, and now this overly polite German.
I wanted to like Konrad. I really did.
He was nice, amiable, and although he obviously loved my wife and was likely waiting for the tiniest crack in our marriage to steal her away, he never disrespected me by trying to touch or woo her.
“I really cannot wait to see their faces,” he said now, casually walking over to my bar to fix himself a drink. “They’ll be blown away.”
“These Japanese. I hear they fetishize foreign women,” I said quietly.
Astre turned to me, cigarette burning between her lips as her fingers froze, cutting a note midway.
I ran my tongue across my upper teeth, shifting on my feet.
She pried the cigarette from her lips, “You sound positively racist.”
“Far from it, I just read in the…”
The sound of the doorbell cut me off. We both turned to the door with a frown.
Salome appeared and pulled the front door open. And there he stood, in a long military grey coat with brass buttons, and a combed back, side part haircut.
Light flooded my chest, and Astre bounded off the piano, running into his arms.
Hale flashed that aristocratic smile, let his bag drop to the floor and gathered her in his arms. He looked over her shoulder, giving me a double wink.
I pouted. His smile broadened.
“I have missed you.” Astre's voice sounded muffled against his shoulder as Salome picked his bag and melted away.
I caught Konrad out of the corner of my eye, refilling his glass of whiskey, fidgety.
He was one of the few people who knew that Hale was my lover, and occasionally shared a bed with Astre and I.
Although Hale and Astre liked each other well enough, I was unwilling to share my wife with anyone permanently. Not even Hale.
“Hopefully, there’s some hug left for me.” I settled into an armchair far from the piano.
“You don’t expect me to walk there, do you?” Hale retorted, releasing Astre gently.
“You’ll come if I want you to come.” I relaxed against the backrest, staring right at Konrad who was blushing now, face ghastly red like he had gone out in winter without his scarf.
“Come, or come?” Hale teased as he finally began to walk towards me.
Astre swatted his arm and headed for the piano again. “You do realize we have a visitor.”
“I don’t think Konrad minds,” I said, still staring at him, barely holding myself back from adding, "if he does not like it, he can stay in his own damn house.”
“Of course,” he responded quickly. “I don’t.”
He crossed the room to sit beside her again. When I looked up to find Hale watching him too, my heart squeezed.
He caught me staring at him, smiled and shrugged. “I’ve always said he would make a killing as an actor with that face. I have no idea what he’s doing backstage as a manager.”
Astre overheard, and laughed. “Let my poor Konrad alone. He hates the stage.”
I stood up then and pulled Hale into a kiss to keep my tongue in check.
Handsome or not, I only had caustic words for that German man, and Astre would definitely fly into a rage this time.
When we finally broke apart, Astre strode over, that hungry fire in her eyes that made me want to drag both of them into bed this minute.
“You're both so tempting.” She stopped, looking between us with slow, seductive eyes. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to go get ready now. I'm scheduled to leave in two hours.”
“Leave?” Hale turned, circled her waist with his arms and pulled her closer.
I turned for the bar. “Yes. The madam is going to sing in Tokyo.”
“Mordaine…” Astre was already saying, but Hale cut her off.
“Japan? I don’t think you should go.”
I spun around. Finally!
But Astre pulled away from him, a hurt look in her eyes. “I cannot believe you let Mordaine get in your head. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Don’t say that. You know I always will.” He pulled her to himself again. “But Tokyo was the last city I visited before getting on my ship to Europe. “
He darted a wary glance at Konrad who was busy with the morning’s newspaper, then he dropped his voice as I walked back to them.
“There were tremors my wolf did not like in that place. I think something bad is going to happen in that city.”