In Her Dreams

In Her Dreams

by

Linda Wisdom

A LINDA WISDOM CLASSIC ROMANCE FROM JOYRIDE BOOKS

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PUBLISHED BY:

Joyride Books

In Her Dreams

Copyright © 2014 by Linda Wisdom

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In Her Dreams

Prologue

April, New London, Connecticut

She looked up into his mad unseeing eyes and felt his hands circling her throat in a mock lover's clasp. She knew she was about to die.

I can't allow you to return to him, my darling, he told her in the soft voice that was at odds with the implied violence in his touch. You can understand that, can't you? He doesn't love you as much as I do. He never can. He rejected you before and he'd only do it again. You must remain mine forever.

She could say nothing. She was having enough trouble trying to breathe, with the heel of his hand pressed so insistently on her trachea. She was still reeling from the shock of commenting, that a male co-worker had taken her out to lunch for her birthday and he suddenly turned into a maniac, accusing her of the most obscene things. Her vision blurred, then turned black as she heard his soft voice caressing her like a poisonous fog.

This is only for your protection, Jessica. His lips were curved into a gentle smile. He'll only hurt you. He doesn't know how to cherish and love you the way I do.

The last thing she remembered was wanting to explain to him that her name wasn't Jessica but Denise.

ETHAN, I CAN'T BELIEVE you're really doing this. The man dressed in Navy whites leaned against the doorway, watching his friend fill a suitcase with neatly folded clothing. Hell, old buddy, you're too young to retire. How can you do this to me? What am I going to do if you're not around to keep me out of trouble?

A faint smile graced Ethan's austere features. The last, person I would be concerned about would be you. It's me, Dave. I've put in m twenty-odd years and now I'm looking for something new, Ethan replied, looking around until his eyes spied his shaving kit, which he fitted in a corner of the suitcase.

But the Navy's all you've ever known, he argued still bewildered by his friend's decision. When Ethan had talked to him several months ago about his determination to retire, Dave dismissed it as nothing more than the beginning of midlife crisis and bluntly informed Ethan he couldn't retire. Just yet. Since then hadn't said anything more, Dave thought he had forgotten all about it. But Dave should have remembered just how determined his friend was. What the hell are you going to do once you're out of here? You’re too, young to sit in a rocking chair on some porch watching the flowers grow.

Ethan looked up and grinned. '''I don't know--It sure sounds good to me."

Dave shook his head. Uh-uh you may look like a sloth, but your personality is as far from lazy as it can get. You're a damn good doctor, Ethan. You can't mean to throw it all away.

I don't intend to. When I find the right place, I plan to setup a private practice. I've been following rules and regulations for too many years. It's time to make a few of my own.

Dave pursed his lips. You're not doing this because of Denise's death, are you?

Ethan shook his head. No, Denise has nothing to do with this. Oh, I admit her death was a shock. It was a shock to everyone on the floor. She was an excellent nurse and a lovely lady. No one should die the way she did. He looked somber. But we certainly hadn't dated enough to call what we had the grand passion. I think my ex-wife took care of any ideas in the direction of a full-blown love waiting out there for me. I simply feel the need to break away from the navy's apron strings and do something on my own. He silently begged his friend to understand. He didn't want to admit that he felt a little unsure about going out into the wild world on his own, but a restless spirit urged him to at least try.

Dave sighed. Okay, I guess you can't fight it, but if you ever need anything, I'm here.

The two men shared an awkward hug.

Dave picked up one of the suitcases. I'll help you carry these out. And you better keep in touch when you finally settle down.

The sharp angles of Ethan's lean face relaxed in a smile.

Don't worry, I will. Who knows, maybe you'll decide to kick the traces and join me. Although let me warn you I intend to settle down as far away from the sea as I can get. I've had enough of the ocean to last me a lifetime. Right now the Midwest looks really good to me.

I just might take you up on that offer. But if you do decide that living by the ocean wouldn't be so bad, after all, try Monterey, California. The town can't be all bad if it could produce me, he joked. Who knows, maybe some good looking lady will snap you up.

Ethan shook his head, remembering the bitterness at the end of his marriage that had spilled over into .the divorce. No, I think I'll remain a crusty old bachelor. It's much safer.

Chapter One

October, Monterey, California

She was a gypsy. She was a witch. Damn, she was beautiful.

Ethan sat at a corner table, unable to keep his eyes off her as she entered the restaurant. A pale lilac sweater skimmed her hips, topping a lilac, peach and pale blue floral-print skirt floating around her legs. Hair the color of rich mink swung freely to her waist, framing a cameo face that would have been classified as too long, but to him was just right. And her eyes, oh, her eyes. Even Elizabeth Taylor would envy that deep shade of purple, Of course, her figure was as great as her face. She was slender; with gently curving breasts under the soft fabric and hips that flared out enough to give a man something to hold on to. Yep, a figure no man could resist looking at, and he ought to know. He had been an excellent student of anatomy, both in and out of medical school.

Ethan had only driven down to roam Cannery Row because he had enjoyed Steinbeck's books so much he wanted to see the author's source material for himself. That it was how tourist oriented didn't bother him; he had enough imagination to recreate it the way it used to be, even to the overpowering aroma of fish meal hanging in the air. He had also promised Dave that if he made it as far west as California, he would visit Monterey. He had to admit he was glad he had stopped here. Even if only to gaze at a woman whose face belonged in an old-fashioned portrait.

The first thing h had done when he'd arrived at Cannery Row was park his camper in one of the public lots so he could be free to roam around, have some lunch and decide what to do next. After almost six months of wandering the country, he was beginning to get tired of living out of a suitcase and wondered whether. It wasn't time to look for that perfect town to set down some roots and consider getting back to work after his self-imposed vacation.

Still, he couldn't complain about his time on the road. He had seen sights he couldn't have imagined: While the Navy had been good to him and sent him all over the world, his only duty in the United States had been in Connecticut for the past few years, and he knew it was time to see something more of the country. He had certainly done just that.

Are you ready to order? A smiling waitress with a badge that named her Joyce stood over him.

He looked up as he handed her the menu. Cheeseburger with a slice of onion, fries and a large Coke.

She nodded and scribbled away. Would you like your drink now?

Yes, please, he said absently, his attention caught elsewhere.

Your meal shouldn't be too long, she assured him before moving off to her next customer.

Ethan didn’t hear her as he was too busy watching the woman greet the male cashier with a heart stopping smile and speak to him, her words too soft to carry in his direction. He gathered by the way the man was writing that she was giving him a good order to go. The cashier nodded and moved away, and the woman stood waiting patiently. As if sensing Ethan’s intense regard, she turned her head, looking directly at him. Her eyes widened for a split second, and she swiftly turned away, not looking his way again. When the cashier returned with a foam take-out container, the woman paid him and hurried out without a backward glance.

And they say looks can't talk, he murmured, rubbing his forefinger across his mouth in an absent gesture.

Ethan couldn't blame her for turning away. He'd bet everything the visual encounter had shaken her up as much as it had him. If asked, he couldn't have described what had just happened, couldn't put a name to it. Deciding to cop out and consider it nothing more than that meeting of eyes across a crowded room, he returned to his perusal of the local newspaper's classified ads section. Still, he felt a bit of sorrow she hadn't stayed here to eat her meal. He would have liked to have studied her longer maybe figure out what caused that sudden drop in the pit of his stomach when he looked into her eyes. He glanced over the rental ads in the newspaper, using his pen to circle the promising ones.

One-bedroom guest house in rear of lovely Victorian home situated above Cannery Row. All the comforts of a past era with modern facilities.

He read it twice and passed it over to mark an ad for a condo in Pacific Beach.

Here you go. The waitress smiled as she set down his plate. Her eyes passed over the paper. Planning to stay?

I'm looking. He wasn't inclined to commit himself. She recognized the hint and smiled before walking away. You're among civilians again, Ethan, he muttered, wondering whether Carmel with its famous golf course wouldn't be more to his liking. So what if he hadn't played golf for at least fifteen years? He could brush up on his strokes in no time. you're going to have to act like one.