Entrainment: Among the Cloud Dwellers

Chapter 5

I politely declined dinner. I reached for my carry-on and found my snacks, realizing that besides coffee at the airport, I hadn't eaten in ages. I was famished. The wine had stirred a light buzz and food sounded delicious, especially the two focaccia sandwiches with prosciutto, mozzarella, and pesto I had packed. I set them on the tray along with a clutch of grapes, Belgian endive and cucumber sticks from ziplock bags, and a handful of Baci chocolates Benedetta had added at the last minute. To bless her would be redundant.

I eyed Gabe and debated whether I liked him enough to share my treasure. He was poking suspiciously at his food with a fork. I offered him a sandwich. "Here. This is going to beat anything they might try to pass for food around here." I nudged it toward him.

He reached over and lifted it to his tray. "Thanks," he said, unwrapping his sandwich. "It smells great, what is it?"

"Panino. Italian for sandwich." I handed him some grapes and vegetables. I had not yet decided if I liked him enough to share the chocolates.

Gabe reached for the Merlot and poured me another glass, then took his remaining Scotch and toasted my wine. "Cheers."

"Salute!" I added, raising my glass to meet his.

We ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the food until a flight attendant appeared balancing two enormous brownie sundaes. He grinned and almost dumped one on my lap. I stared at the heap of ice cream, steaming brownie, and melting fudge syrup. I sighed, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this is just too much for me."

"How about you take one back, mate? And leave us two spoons?" Gabe offered.

"Yes, sir, no worries." The flight attendant bounced away with the other dessert and Gabe's untouched airline meal.

My spoon, precariously hanging on the edge of the tray, didn't make it and fell, tumbling backwards under my seat until, even with my head between my knees, I couldn't see it anymore. I raised my head, bumped the tray, managed to save the wine bottle, and felt grateful Gabe had grabbed my full glass before it spilled. I settled back somewhat, took my wine glass back without touching his fingers, swallowed disappointment, and was about to ring to have a new spoon brought to me, when Gabe reached for his and smiled wickedly. He scooped some ice cream, brought the spoon up to my mouth, and waited, tempting me.

This man has initiative. I lowered my eyelids to stare at the perfect bite: a little chunk of brownie covered in vanilla ice cream laced with thick fudge and a melting dollop of whipped cream. Not a single nut in sight. I bit. I closed my eyes for a minute and savored the richness. It tasted heavenly in my mouth. Gabe chuckled and took a bite himself. Several blissful minutes of perfect bites followed, from my mouth to the frosty glass to his mouth.

The mood coated us with intimacy. Silence lingered around us, a willing accomplice. We exchanged not a single word.

Attraction and wonder glimmered in his eyes.

I thought of calm lights reflecting gold before sunset. Holding his gaze, I exhaled and let my guard fall. I hadn't realized until that moment how much I had been shielding. He sensed the change and looked at me with such intensity I thought about warding myself again. I handed the empty sundae glass to the flight attendant, who had magically appeared at my elbow, and wondered how or what the hell I knew about warding and shields.

Good that the ice cream was gone. It would have melted in such intense heat.

Clearing his throat, Gabe reached for his bag. "Do you like music?" he asked. I watched him mess around with a portable CD player.

"Yes, I do." I held my breath. As if on cue, the cabin lights dimmed slowly.

He reached over and placed small earphones on my head. He hit the play button and I recognized the first notes of one of my favorite Depeche Mode songs. He unfolded his right leg, leaned forward, and gently brushed a lock of hair off my face. His fingertips lingered just enough for me to shiver.

I didn't resist when his arms lifted me over his knee and pulled me until my back met his chest. I tilted my head, brushing the curve of his chin with my hair, and nestled in. Purrs tickled my throat.

His left hand brushed my hair away from my neck, exposing the earphone. He traced my ear with his hot fingertips, drawing a line from my earlobe down the base of my neck, and I shivered. In a caress, his fingers trailed down my shoulder, along my arm, and finally entwined with mine. His right hand slid under my right elbow and found my waist.

I closed my eyes against the intensity. I was on fire.

The music washed over me, and I relaxed my back against his strong chest. I exhaled, and his chocolate-scented breath mingled with mine. When I squeezed his hand, his grip tightened in response.

I listened to the lyrics, realizing Gabe had chosen that specific song on purpose.

Seized by fear, I couldn't turn to look into his eyes.

What kind of world did he want me to see?

I shoved doubts out of my head with a firm push, and since my heart had already settled, I surrendered, relaxing against his chest completely. Several songs unraveled-all from different musicians, some just instrumental versions of classics.

Gabe never said a word. He just held me against his chest, comfortable in the darkness around us at over thirty-eight thousand feet altitude. I covered his right hand with mine and he began to caress my fingers. Quick electric shocks climbed up my arm, like flames flickering over my skin. It was as if he could hear the music spilling from the earphones, and he moved his fingers along my hand to the rhythm. My own heartbeat echoed that same pulse, matching the rhythm. I felt his head move backwards to rest against the seat and his hand slowed down and finally stilled as he drifted to sleep.

I absolutely refused to think. I used the music as a shield to keep me from stirring my rational brain from its ice cream-induced hibernation.

Yeah! Let's blame the ice cream. Fight one weakness with another.

But was this weakness? Is it weak to allow yourself to be real and do as you feel instead of hiding behind pretense when your entire being screams otherwise? How many times do we make scalding-hot eye contact with a stranger and fail to act upon it? We hide behind worn-out panels of decorum. The excuse of fear, the terror of being hurt restrains us from life.

Joséphine used to say that to feel pain is better than not to feel at all. I find myself agreeing with her more often than not.

I lifted my feet to the side, kicked my sneakers off, and readjusted my legs to rest on Gabe's. He must have felt extremely comfortable to fall asleep with me in his arms. Or maybe he was just exhausted.

I felt sleep crawl over me like a familiar blanket, but I didn't give in.

Like thunder chasing lightning, expectation follows the high tide of emotions that a brand-new attraction raises. It's a mistake, an enormous mistake. Would I start making plans for us to see each other in Adelaide? I might not ever see him again after the flight.

I had so many questions. Benedetta calls this "jerking off mentally." Why was I even bothering?

Because I'm human, a tiny voice whispered inside me.

Why can't I just be grateful I had the chance to feel this, if only fleetingly? Why can't I stop doubting and just ride the high tide?

Because I know the low one will follow. I wondered if magic was at work already, steering me in the right direction. I shook my head. Too much had happened in my life for me to believe in fairy tales with happy endings. After Steve, I started thinking that Gretel and the witch should hook up after killing, peeling, boiling, and eating Hansel. It would make a great sequel.

The music stopped with a soft click. I rubbed my eyes, lifted the earphones off my head, and slid my feet into the complimentary slippers. Gabe didn't wake as I moved out of his arms. I stood and walked to the lavatory.

Funny how we use the word 'lavatory' only on airplanes because any other time it would be considered an odd word, perplexing. Maybe they use it in Australia, I thought. I'm often prone to random mind-wandering, especially during uncomfortable or stressful situations. But was I really nervous?

I splashed cold water on my face. I looked in the mirror and realized that none of my previous names had come up in the regression. I was Porzia, with my face, my personality, my flaws, and my baggage of timeless memories. To try to be any of those women would mean to regress literally, in this life and perhaps acquire more baggage. To try to find Xavier would mean limiting my choices in partners to somebody that fit his profile.

Wrong.

It meant I had embarked on a quest of self-discovery, to learn to love myself-including my magic powers-and ultimately merge again with my true love. That's what Evalena meant.

Good luck, I silently mouthed to myself in the mirror. But the awareness of sharing a time-defying bond with someone flared through a secret part of my soul I had no idea I owned and filled it up for the first time in ages. Warmth radiated from my navel outward like a spreading aura, heating my body from the inside out.

I bowed my head in acceptance and secretly smiled as I chose to take my second wayward step and walked back to my seat self-consciously, musing that I might actually glow in the dark. I wished I had a volume knob to turn it down.

The movie screen flickered azure lights against the seat.

Gabe was still asleep. I adjusted myself sideways against his chest, kicked the slippers off, and closed my eyes. I snuggled my face against his chest, brushing the softness of his T-shirt with my cheek, and inhaled musk and spice. His heart, beating strong and steady beneath my ear, comforted me.

*

I woke up to his hand smoothing my hair. I usually don't fall asleep on airplanes.

We had crossed the Pacific and were following the Australian coast toward Melbourne, now less than a couple of hours ahead according to the video screen.

Gabe got up, gently readjusted me on the seat, and covered me with the blue blanket.

With a hand, he wiped sleep off his face and quickly combed his hair back. "I'll be roight back," he whispered.

I watched him walk away. I wanted to sleep more, but they were turning the lights on and I could smell coffee.

Ahhh ... coffee.

Gabe came back as I struggled with the blanket; it insisted on wrapping itself around me. I must have looked a mess. He didn't seem to notice, just balanced two cups of coffee in one hand and peeled me out of the blanket, making it look like the easiest thing in the world. Then handed me coffee-sweet, creamy coffee.

How did he know?

"I never sleep like that." His eyes held a spark of involuntary admission. "You're an unexpected, precious gift, Porzia. I know it's hard to believe, but I think you understand."

Gift? I kind of liked that. I nodded.

"I'll ask the flight attendant to seat us together on the next flight home," he invited. "So you can hold my hand again."

I laughed.

Once we landed in Melbourne he waited for me to clear Customs, and we walked to catch the other plane hand in hand. So I ended up next to him all the way to Adelaide.

As we settled back in our seats he took my hand in his again and held it until the end of the flight.

Maybe he really is afraid of flying, I mused.

"Clark is picking me up at the airport. Have you got a lift to the winery? I could drive you up there if you need me to, I'm sure he won't mind," he offered.

"Clark?"

"Clark's my father. I've taken to calling him by his first name. He told me it makes him feel way too old to have a son my age." He winked mischievously.

"How old are you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Thirty-six. And you?"

"Thirty," I smiled. "I'd love to meet Clark, but I've got a ride to the winery. Thank you for offering."

"How long will you be up there? Have you got a number I can ring you?" He reached for his wallet and handed me a business card. "That's my work number roight there." He took the card back. "Here-let me write my home number on the back." He scribbled numbers on the back of the card and handed it back to me.

I rummaged in my bag and found a small brochure from Umeracha Winery. "I'm planning on being there about five days. I'll be busy for the first few with the wine presentations, but I'm sure if you'd like to come along, they'd be glad to have you there."

"Get settled and give me a ring when you have a moment." He brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed it. "Until then, I want you to know I'll be thinking of you."

I found myself responding naturally to the unequivocal message in his eyes. Mesmerized, I leaned forward. Shrouded by fear my true feelings skimmed behind my half-parted eyelids.

"Your eyes are getting greener-Porzia."

Dangerous warning but I couldn't care less so close to his delicious grin. I found myself responding in a rush of arousal-irrefutably s****l arousal. "Well then, you'll need something to fuel all that thinking," I whispered, bringing the hand he had just kissed to his heart. My fingers found the smooth swell of his chest. In a daze, I fist-filled his shirt and tugged, pulling him closer to me. I tilted my head, parted my lips, and closed my eyes.

I kissed him.

My lips met his. I let them dance slowly-tease, like a butterfly on velvet petals. I tasted coffee, coffee much more bitter than mine, on the tip of his tongue as I dared explore deeper. I felt his hands cup my face, pulling me even closer, and the kiss flared. Heat, lust, and passion twisted and braided in a struggle to possess us.

He became the aggressor and I the consenting victim. I moaned against his mouth, overwhelmed with burning emotions. My insides melted into hot lava, running scalding, liquid paths. His heated scent enveloped me, seduced my senses, and teased my animal instinct until a primal beat began to pulse between my legs. His hands left my face to follow the curve of my shoulders down my arms where they gripped and pulled me against him.

My hands became an obstacle trapped between us. I slowly moved them up, my lips never leaving his mouth, until my heartbeat pressed madly against his. His hand reached the nape of my neck and yanked a fistful of hair.

"That's supposed to help me think?"

My lips throbbed against his words.

His mouth moved to brush my throat. Slowly I opened my eyes and saw his incredible hair tease my chin. I plunged both hands into those thick strands of golden silk, pulling his head back up. I hungered to taste his mouth again.

Suddenly I felt my brain bounce around in my head as the plane tilted and slowed down, dipping toward the ocean below.

"I think we're landing," Gabe said, his voice thick against my mouth once again.

"Where are we?" I blinked, totally lost.

He laughed and pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes shifted to clear aquamarine, his hair remained an untamed mess. He looked sexier than ever.

"If this is what it's like to be bewitched-"

"I'm not a witch, Gabe, why do you think-"

"Yeah? What was in that panino you gave me?"

"Nothing! If you feel like you've been bewitched, maybe it's because you want to." I was only half joking.

"It's OK, plenty of antidotes in my outback supplies stash ..."

"I've never heard that one before," I laughed.

"I've never been kissed like that before." His serious eyes caressed my mouth.

"Yes, you have," I told him. "Perhaps you just don't remember."

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "What would make me forget?"

"Death."

Seats in upright position; we were landing.