Eternal (28 page)

“No,” he said quickly. “Wren, you don’t understand. My God, you are so beautiful right now.”

Confused, I stared.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “You don’t know how it tortures me to see you, to hold you, to kiss you and know that you are alive and that I am not.”

“But I do.” I felt the same way about him. Not a moment passed that I didn’t wonder what it would be like if he possessed a physical body.

His eyes searched mine. “I would give my soul to be a living, breathing man right now.”

“That doesn’t matter—” I began but he interrupted.

“I would take you to the nearest parson and make you my wife.”

My head swam. My heart pounded.

“I would marry you and I would never let you go.” He thumbed a strand of hair away from my cheek.

“Marry me now,” I proposed, my voice but a hoarse breath.

That agonized look claimed his handsome features once more. “I would be selfish to do so.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“I watched Ruth Polk from the time she was a bright, lively child until she died a lonely and eccentric old lady,” he said.

“I’m not Ruth Polk,” I argued. “Besides, she couldn’t see you or talk to you.” My gaze dropped to the sensuous curve of his lips and then lifted once more to his eyes. “She couldn’t kiss you.”

“I fear I am not enough for you,” he admitted. “I’m afraid I would wring the life out of you and you would eventually…hate me.”

Realization stunned me and in that instant I understood why he’d made the deal with Briar to let her cross him over.

His gaze fell to the floor. “I already hate myself.”

I seized his shoulders. “Jeremiah, no.” I shook him until he looked into my eyes again. “You agreed to let Briar cross you over because of me, didn’t you?”

A muscle in his jaw contracted. His lips trembled. “What do you want with a coward like me?”

“Coward?” This wasn’t the first time he’d referred to himself in that way.

His energy bristled. “I told myself I stayed with you because I felt you needed me.”

“I do need you.”

“No. It is I who need you, Wren,” he murmured so softly I barely heard the words. “All this time, all these years, I’ve been so angry. I felt cheated out of my life. I detested myself for breaking my promise to my parents, to my brothers. I hated myself for…dying.”

I had no words of comfort for him. I couldn’t assure him that his death wasn’t his fault. I knew all too well what it felt like to be riddled with guilt and fault. “I do need you,” I told him again. “I…I want you.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He traced my scar as he’d done so many times. “I thought you were…fragile.”

“Are you telling me the only reason you came to me was because you pitied me?”

“No,” he replied quickly, dispelling my anxiety. “I fooled myself into thinking I needed to stay with you to keep you safe when the real reason I stayed was because I couldn’t bear to leave this life, this existence—without you.”

At that moment, I knew beyond all doubt that his love for me matched mine for him in its strength and depth. He loved me. He’d told me as much. I’d felt as much. I could even see it in his eyes but I’d never dared to dream his feelings for me ran this deep. “I don’t ever want you to leave.”

His hand trailed down my arm and then his fingers laced with mine. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

My excited breaths came in quick bursts. “Yes.”

“Do you?” His voice was stern. Serious.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He shook his head. “You and I can never be like normal people.”

“I know that.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “I will never be able to provide for you.”

I could hardly breathe. “I’ll finish school. I can take care of myself financially.”

His free hand slid around my neck and settled on the nape. My blood thickened and heated at his familiar touch.

“You know that goes against everything I was taught in my lifetime?” he asked.

I nodded. “Times are different. I can show you.”

Sadness sparked in his eyes. “You and I can never conceive children together.”

My face grew increasingly hotter and I knew I blushed. “I know.”

He stared for so long I had to avert my gaze.

“Wren,” he said, drawing my eyes back to his. “Are you certain you’ve thought this completely through?”

My heart skipped a beat as my eyes found his again. “Yes.”

“You understand that once you are completely mine, I will haunt you until you’re in the grave.”

Cold chills skittered up my spine but the thought of always being with him turned my insides to utter mush. I smiled. “I would expect no less of you.”

“I’m serious,” he said. His hard gaze penetrated mine. “I’m a jealous man, Wren.”

I recalled the time he’d chased Waylon away. “You don’t have any reason to be jealous. I’m yours, heart and soul.”

He studied my face again and then he nodded as if resigned. “I have something for you.”

I gasped when he suddenly vanished only to reappear on the other side of the attic.

Curious, I moved toward the rug I’d unrolled as he concentrated on opening one of the trunks in the shadows. My skin tingled with expectance as he pried open a secret compartment in the lid of the trunk. He looked at me and flashed a smile that made my toes curl inside my ballet flats.

I blinked and he was magically standing in front of me once more. A gasp froze in my throat.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

A smile pulled at my lips as I obeyed. His hand closed on mine and I held my breath as he lifted it. Intuitively, I knew what his surprise was but I refused to allow myself to think it, to even hope. And when I felt something cold sliding onto my finger, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer.

My gaze fell on the most beautiful red stone I’d ever seen set in an elaborate gold setting. I stared, realizing this was my
wedding
ring. Speechless, my eyes connected with Jeremiah’s.

“This is a Ransom family heirloom,” he said, moving his thumb over the gem. “It’s a ruby.”

“It’s…beautiful,” I said unable to find the right words to express the emotions threatening to consume me.

“My mother hid this from the Yankees,” he murmured, his eyes clouding with faraway memories. “It was her mother’s, too. And her grandmother’s before that.”

I recalled the austere woman I’d seen that day Jeremiah’s spirit had come into my body. “She must have been a determined woman.”

“On the outside,” Jeremiah said. “Inside, she was like you.”

A tear splashed on the back of my hand and I realized I was crying. Most people who knew me would describe me as unfeeling and cold. Not Jeremiah. He knew my hard exterior was all a ruse to cover up the pain I’d known, the emotions I feared letting anyone else see.

His fingers caught me under the chin and he gently lifted my face so that I gazed into his eyes. “Wren Darby, will you be my wife?”

My stomach somersaulted.

When I’d first concocted this scheme, it had all seemed wildly romantic. Even improbable. Now, it was happening. It was real and wonderful beyond anything I could have ever imagined. The vows I’d thought up were a pale memory, unable to do justice to this moment.

I grappled to define my feelings but everything inside me tangled and jumbled as if I was skidding down a mountainside grasping at twigs and roots for some sort of elusive hand hold. And although I’d planned this—had wanted it beyond anything else in the universe—I also wanted to be certain. I had no doubt in my mind this was the right thing for me but was my motivation beneficial to Jeremiah? Was I worthy of him? Was I capable of honoring him the way he deserved to be honored, loved and respected?

“Yes,” I said aloud, answering my own questions as well as his. “Yes.”

Joy bubbled up inside me and I laughed even as he lowered his lips to mine. The ghostly energy to which I’d become so accustomed, consumed me. I shook with it and quaked with need as his kiss deepened, as his lips demanded my willing response. Every part of me was more than ready for what I knew was to come but at the same time, I wanted to savor this moment, to make it last forever, to feel just as I did right now with joy and love and perfection and heartbreaking acceptance overflowing from my soul.

I stumbled when he dragged me closer but his arms locked around me, holding me upright. His ethereal body supported mine because I’d lost all ability to stand under my own power.

I clung, yielding to his ever deepening kiss while tears streamed unchecked down my face. And despite everything I thought I’d wanted from him, I realized I needed to have his spirit meld with mine once more. Before anything else happened between us, I wanted that feeling of becoming totally one with him.

Melding with him on a spiritual level deepened our commitment far more than anything physical we could have done together and, although I was sure physical consummation would be wonderful, that act would pale in comparison to the uniting of our spirits, our souls, our minds.

And yet, reluctant to break the spell of his kiss, I surrendered. One hand cradled my head, supporting me as my back arched so that the length of my body pressed into his. His knee slid between mine and my blood thrummed thick in my veins. Desire unfurled. Entwining my arms around his neck, I held him tightly, thrilling in the sensation of his mouth capturing mine, of his hand skimming down to the small of my back where he pulled me even closer.

I heard myself moan into his mouth as I felt his desire for me. I’d wanted this for so long and now it was happening and the feeling I couldn’t turn back, that I didn’t want to turn back, turned my world upside down.

A whimper escaped my lips when he dragged his mouth from mine.

“Wren, I promise to protect you for that is the one thing I can do,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “I will love you and cherish you. I will honor you in thought and deed.”

My head and heart and body swam and I knew if he hadn’t been holding me, I would have collapsed. “And I will protect, love and cherish you,” I echoed his words.

My eyes focused on his and I recognized he was trembling.

“I’ve never felt this way about another woman,” he confessed. “I’ve never gone this far with another woman.”

I suddenly felt uncertain about my own ability to do this right. “Are you scared?” I asked him.

His lopsided smile deepened one dimple at the corner of his mouth. “More than I’ve ever been in my whole damned existence.”

“Me, too,” I admitted.

His gaze scanned my face and then he sank to the rug, drawing me down with him. My heart fluttered uncontrollably as his hand moved lovingly over my face, my shoulder, down my arm as if he was trying to memorize me, immortalize me just the way I was now. Anticipation simmered inside me, warring with my need to savor every delicious second. I’d never experienced anything so awkward and yet so wonderful at the same time.

He scooted an inch closer and when the candlelight illuminated his ghostly face, I was struck once again with the cold, hard knowledge that he was not alive. I had just pledged myself to a ghost, to someone who did not exist as far as my parents and most of my friends were concerned.

But then again, this was only a formality, a personal ritual that meant something only to Jeremiah and me. Nothing in my life would change. Whether I’d known it or not, I’d been committed to him from the first time he’d appeared to me.

In the dim light, he seemed whole and real, only slightly faded from my own coloring. His hand moved over mine and I saw through to where my fingers splayed on the rug. I couldn’t feel flesh and bone. His touch was unlike any mortal’s touch. And yet, I felt him intensely. It was as if he willed me to feel him, as if that part of him that lingered on the earth plane remained for me alone.

My gaze found his as he moved even closer. His folded knees touched mine, the energy emanating like warmth through the myriad layers of my skirt. I wet my dry lips with the tip of my tongue, expecting him to kiss me again. Instead, he caressed my face, the line of my jaw, the curve of my neck.

Then, with both hands, he reached to unfasten the buttons at the top of my bodice. I didn’t dare breathe as he undid one, then two, and as his hands moved lower, he began to shake so badly, he stopped and then nervously raked his fingers through his own hair.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just that…I’m…so scared.”

My heart turned over. Hard. Taking initiative, I closed the distance between us, threading my fingers into the coarse, thick hair at his nape to draw his mouth to mine. Hungry need consumed me and, as I kissed him, I drew his hand to my body. My breath caught in my throat as he touched me. I’d never felt anything so overwhelming. I’d fooled around a little before but this heady combination of love and lust tore my inhibitions to tatters.

I kissed his mouth, his face, turning his face to nuzzle his ear. As much as I wanted to be intimate with him, I wanted to know his thoughts, his emotions, far more. I wanted to feel what he felt. I wanted to show him the depth of my emotions. I wanted to be one with him in a far deeper way than any joining of our physical bodies. “I want your spirit inside me again.”

Without words, he took my shoulders and guided me to lie back on the rug. His gaze fused with mine as he moved over me, his knees between mine, his body pressed against me as if we were the most intimate of lovers. His mouth locked with mine and he kissed me utterly, thoroughly until I wept and clung and arched against him, lifting my spine off the hard floor. I trembled with need.

I held his head by fistfuls of his thick, black hair as his kisses moved downward, his ghostly breaths hot through the gauzy fabric of my dress. When he reached my abdomen, he lifted his head only far enough to look into my eyes and then with a rush that whipped through my clothes and hair and ripped into my body, his spirit invaded me.

I gasped, uncertain I could contain him. My body went rigid. Terror consumed me until I thought I would explode. My throat constricted so much that I struggled for breath as an odd sort of paralysis rendered me immobile.

And then…
bliss
.