Because the Night

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.


~Chapter Three~

When at last I managed to pry open my eyes, it was to find a very handsome face hovering over me. I knew the face, though I could not place it right off. His eyes were soft, concerned as he cautiously cared for my head wound. His touch was very gentle. His voice caressed my spine as he spoke.

“You have awakened. This is good.”

Recognition settled in my mind. This was the dancer from the club! The one who’d dressed me in his trench coat. My lord! I thought he was handsome under the cover of the club’s dim lighting and the intoxication of alcoholic beverages. The lighting was only slightly brighter than the bar, but it was enough. His teeth sparkled as he spoke.

“I feared your injury to have done great harm. I am glad to see this is not so.” I had not noticed it at the club, but there existed just the slightest accent in his words. It was…intriguing.

I cleared my throat. “Where am I?”

He sat back, reached for a cup and brought it to my lips, carefully raising my head. It was such an unusual feeling. “Drink. It will help with the headache and to keep the nausea at bay.” I did as commanded. The liquid warmed as it traversed the length from my throat to my stomach.

He continued. “You are in the spare bedroom at my flat. I thought it best that none of your attackers received the opportunity to follow you home. I also do not know where that place lies. Aside from Colin referring to you as Cici, I am at a disadvantage in the knowledge department.”

“What about the authorities?”

“The criminals will be handled without need of your testimony. You may relax.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. Planting my hands on either side, I started to raise myself to sit rather than lay. He rested one hand on my shoulder, effectively halting my ascension.

“You should not move yet.”

“I can’t stand lying down,” I argued.

“Your clothing was damaged. It was removed to treat your injuries.”

My throat ran dry as his words settled into my mind. Blush rose to my cheeks. I could think of nothing to say, so I uttered just one small word. “Oh.”

He chuckled. “Fear not. The need did not exist to remove all clothing, just your outside clothes. I have a dear friend who stays here when she is in town. She is near your size. Once I feel you can move without becoming ill, I will give you time to dress.”

He reached to the bedside table, grabbing a washcloth from a basin sitting there. He wrung it out and gently washed my cheek. “I do not believe you will have much of a scar once this has healed. It is too early to know with certainty, but the wound is minor.” He paused. “I hope you are not upset that I did not transport you to hospital. Your injuries did not appear to require medical attention. My neighbor across the hall is a nurse practitioner and volunteered to assist when I carried you upstairs.”

My curiosity overwhelmed my unease. I raised the covering enough to peak underneath. I retained my brassiere and panties, though I might just as well have been bare for what they actually covered. The straight-laced attitude came from a very Victorian-style upbringing. However, with the Victorian, my mother had a love for seductive underclothing. I never knew how addictive the knowledge that under the strict clothing lay wild sexiness waiting unwrapping until my last fiancé. We chose not to wait the remaining two months for our wedding night. After the first consummation, I was driven to provide decorative packaging for his pleasure. Although my groom ran off with the maid of honor the eve of the ceremony, I retained my desire to dress appealing. It made me feel the goddess the bar flies described me to be.

Now, however, I blushed again knowing that the paragon of solid male muscle who danced so seductively earlier in the evening had viewed my low lace and thong panties. I forced my mouth to work. “Could I at least have a shirt? I feel extremely vulnerable right now.”

The speed with which he retrieved the desired clothing from the chest of drawers across the room nearly dizzied me. “Your hands are bandaged and you will be unable to fasten the buttons. Allow me to help you.”

He slid his arm beneath my shoulders, helping me to rise and lean forward. My face certainly burned red, though he drew no attention to that fact. He gently slid first one arm, then the other into the sleeves, allowing me to hold the blanket to my chest. After carefully adjusting the material to a proper fit, he sat in front of me, his hands reaching for the fastenings. He paused and raised an eyebrow at me. I know he wondered how he would manage to fasten the shirt with my hands and the blanket in the way. I sighed and released my hold on the material, turning my head away so I could not see his face as his fingers danced so close to my breasts.

I barely felt his touch as he worked his way through all of the buttons, but his heat permeated the thin shirt to warm my skin. My breath caught. I spoke without thought. “How do you do that?” I turned to face him as he finished.

“I do not understand.”

I shook my head. “Never mind. You probably don’t have a clue what I mean, and it would be too embarrassing and complicated to explain.” I looked around simply for something to garner my attention. “What time is it?” A thought struck me. “And for that matter, what is your name? I wasn’t in the room when the announcements were made.”

He nodded. “I noticed. Many of the men back stage discussed the fact that you were in attendance tonight. It seems you have made quite an impression such that all of the dancers truly do know who you are. How is that?”

I opened my mouth to respond. Then I realized he’d not answered. “Time and name first, if you please.”

He stood from the bed and reached behind me, pulling my pillow, and the one next to me, so that I could lean back in a sitting position. I nearly sighed as I sank into what had to be down feathers.

“The time is nearing three in the morning. Before you grow concerned, I sent word to your friends that you were not well and would not join them at the next club.” I hadn’t even realized my concern until he spoke the words. “My name is Lisimba-Amon Rashidi. I am not just one of the dancers, though. I am one of the investors of whom Mr. Sardi spoke.”

I raised my eyebrows. “How did you know—“

“Mr. Sardi told you?” He finished my thought flawlessly.

I nodded.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I spoke with him after the show. I admit my curiosity piqued regarding you. Some females in the crowd visit regularly, yet none of them are known to all the dancers. In conjunction with the request to stay away, I could not get my mind to leave the thought alone. I asked Mr. Sardi many questions regarding your allowance into the dressing area, your acquisition of a key card and use of the store room, and especially regarding the request. To just see you in the crowd would not draw special attention. Still, you have a magnetic attraction that catches the eyes and minds of every male in the vicinity. It is rare to see such a thing.”

I chuckled. “Just to appease my own curiosity, what did Papa Bear say in response to your questions?”

“He spoke the words of truth. He even told me of your first few nights of visit. I believe Mr. Steele was the first to receive the ruling to stay away. Still, he spoke very highly of you. Not so much of the women with you, but very highly of you.”

I blushed again.

“You color easily. Could it truly be that a woman of today’s society maintains a level of decorum?”

I ignored his sarcasm. “So, are you really looking to open another Papa Sardi’s Women’s Club?”

He nodded briefly. “The business is very lucrative, not only for the owner, but also for the dancers. It provides an escape from reality for a few hours a week for the gentler sex, and as such, reaps a grand reward. In addition, I enjoy the sport.” He grinned with the last sentence.

I could not hold back my chuckle. “You do, eh? Do you reap the excessive rewards the same as many of the other dancers?”

Raised eyebrows signaled his near disbelief at my question. “To answer such a question is tantamount to suicide with many females. Do you truly desire knowledge of my prowess?”

I felt the blood rush to my cheek again and shook my head. “Thank you, but no. I won’t deny curiosity. I have a strong aversion to dishonesty, and a strong tendency toward abrupt questioning. I speak that which comes to mind as quickly as it appears.” I reached to the table, grabbed the glass, and drew another drink of the warm liquid previously offered. “If I were completely honest with you, without dancing around the bush to avoid my own embarrassment, I would have to admit an extremely strong reaction to your dance tonight. It was very intoxicating. I’ve never had a dancer place their clothing on me. I’ve helped to remove a bit here and there, but I’ve never been gifted with the wearing.” My face burned with the intensity of my honesty.

Soft but strong fingers grazed my cheeks. “Such an endearing quality, topped only by the truth which spills from your lips.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes. The intensity of heat lingering within them stopped the breath in my lungs.

“Tell me, Cici. Have you ever considered taking the party home with you? Or do you leave it all at the club?” The vibrato washed over me. It was such an amazing feeling allowing his voice to caress every nerve. I don’t think I could have lied to him even had I wished it.

I nodded. “I have considered it occasionally. A couple years ago, for a friend’s birthday, several of the dancers and one of the bouncers did return to our hotel with us. The temptation that night was exceedingly strong. Still, however, I could not ignore the risk of disease and managed to survive the night with complete sexual frustration. I slept alongside Mr. Steele with the agreement of hands off. He was gentleman enough to attempt sleeping in the chair, but I could not bear the thought of such discomfort. A few other nights, when I’ve drank to keep up with the girls, I entertained illicit thoughts. Still, I went home alone.”

His head bobbed only slightly. Had I not been watching intently, I never would have seen the motion. “Such knowledge is very good to have. There is a great amount of trust to be had when faced with such temptation, yet to reject it.” He drew in a soft breath, seeming to savor the scent of our closeness. “Tell me of your reaction to the dance tonight, Cici. I find it interests me greatly.”

What to tell him, I thought. It was such an unnerving situation. If I were completely honest with him, how would he interpret the words? I shook my head. “I don’t feel proper with this discussion, Mr. Rashidi.” I cast my eyes away from his burning intensity.

A gentle touch turned my vision back to his. “Please, call me Lisimba.” He stared for a moment. I felt he could see clear to the depths of my soul. Just when I thought I could bear no more, he spoke again. “I will accept your disinclination to speak of personal emotions, milady.”

I swallowed though my mouth lay dry. My tongue fished out to moisten my lips. His eyes followed the motion, desire brewing clearly in the stormy depths.

“Thank you, L-Lisimba.” I stumbled over the use of his first name. In an attempt to distract myself from his animal magnetism, I returned the glass to the night table. “I believe this shirt is long enough for my dignity’s sake. I would like to try standing, see just how bad I hit my head.”

He nodded and moved from his seat, standing at the bedside. Just like the gentleman he appeared to be, my gut told me he wouldn’t even consider leaving until he was certain I would not collapse with weakness or a dizzy spell. I couldn’t really explain, even to myself, the strong sense of trust I found myself placing in Lisimba. I just seemed to know he was honorable.

“Take it one step at a time, Cici.”

I flipped the blanket away and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The bandages showed small amounts of blood already seeping to the top. I’d have to inspect the wounds so I would know how much gauze to purchase, but I would worry about that later. As I slid forward, Lisimba reached to assist me. I didn’t think I really needed the help, but his touch … the warmth in his hands and the gentleness in each movement … I welcomed the opportunity to extend our contact from earlier. Secretly, I heralded myself a shameless hussy to think such things.

I spoke to distract myself from such thoughts. “My name is actually Cecilia. I gained the nickname Cici in elementary school, and it just seemed to follow me everywhere I’ve gone.” I tightened my grip on his hand and pulled myself upward. A strong wave of pain engulfed my legs, causing me to falter for a moment. True to my thoughts, Lisimba did not let me fall. He pulled me against his body for added support until I signaled to him that I felt I could stand without assistance. Even when he ‘released’ me, his arms hovered nearby, prepared to catch me should the need arise.

He tested my name. “Cecilia. Such a beautiful name; much more suited to your modesty than the modern sounding ‘Cici’.” Lisimba stayed at my side as I took a few cautious steps. “Tell me, Cecilia, do you walk home often?”

I nodded, instantly regretting the motion as a surge of pressure engulfed my head. My hand shot to my forehead, and I groaned. “Ouch. Sorry.” I blinked a couple times, willing the ache away. “Um…yes, I do walk home often. Not usually at night, but I hate the idea of driving short distances.”

I felt his nod. “Would you allow me the honor of escorting you should you find the need to walk in the hours of darkness again? I could not bear the thought of another attack upon you.”

Weakness swept through my muscles. “I believe I should sit back down now. My legs aren’t ready to hold much weight yet.” I let him lead me back to the bed and assist me in lifting my legs. As he slid the blanket over me again, I spoke again. “I barely know you. I don’t think I would feel right asking you to meet me somewhere just so I wouldn’t have to walk alone.”

I paused, clearing my throat. “I must thank you. If I think about what nearly transpired,” my throat constricted, stopping me from forming any other words.

I didn’t know a tear had escaped until his gentle hand brushed it from my cheek.

“Shed no tears, Cecilia. Let not those vermin control your thoughts or emotions. Your worth is more than all of theirs combined.”

I fumbled around, rushing my hands to wipe the remaining moisture from my face. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually cry.”

He used his fingertips to lift my face, forcing me to look directly at him. His eyes softened. “Those men were monsters, creatures of the night with no concern for others. Do not allow them power over you. You are stronger than their fear.”

As I stared into his endless green orbs, I felt his words wash over me, sinking into me, infusing me with strength against the melancholy. The spell he’d woven was so strong, had I not blinked, I don’t think I would have been able to turn away. The blink allowed me to separate from that unknown feeling. I retained the control over my emotions, but I was able to turn from his gaze. My eyes fastened on the beverage. I grasped the glass, lifting it toward my mouth. My hand chose that moment to quiver.

His eyes caught the motion. “You still fear?”

I shook my head. “No, not this time. Parkinson’s Disease, early stages. Family curse. I still have about fifteen to twenty years before I’ll end up nearly disabled, but moments of high stress can cause an attack.” I used my other hand to steady the shaking one while I drank, keeping me from making an absolute mess of myself and this beautiful bed. I continued. “Yet another reason I choose to walk. Sometimes first thing in the morning, I can’t control my legs. Walking is one of my ways to ‘rebel’ against the disease that wants to steal my mobility.”

His solid hand grasped mine, warmth passing through the union. “You are a woman of great strength, Cecilia. I have seen many people give up against much less odds.”

***