Tomorrow's Dreams by Heather Cullman Page A

million miles away from the Shakespeare’s dingy dressing room. Mystified, she closed her eyes and took another whiff. Like a balm to her battered spirit the warm, woodsy aroma coiled around her heart, soothing her with memories of happier times. Boston …
    I don’t want to remember Boston , her heart protested, all too familiar with the wrenching aftermath of such reminiscences. But Penelope’s mind betrayed her heart and blissfully surrendered to the sweetness of yesterday.
    Back in time her mind slipped, back almost three years to the night she’d made her triumphant solo debut at the Boston Theater. Back to the unforgettable moment when Seth had proposed.
    Beneath Penelope’s hand the rough table shifted and changed shape, transforming itself into an exquisite dressing table. The walls, a tattered collage of newsprint and playbills, were magically overlaid with fine yellow silk. There were bouquets of hothouse flowers everywhere. And behind her, reflected in the mirror, his blond hair shining like sunshine silk against the Cimmerian darkness of his evening clothes, was Seth Tyler.
    Penelope’s heart thrilled at the sight of him; she was giddy with joy. With his quicksilver wit and indomitable spirit, he was everything she ever wanted, all she would ever need.
    Standing close behind where she sat, he bent down and nuzzled his face to her ear. Marry me , he whispered passionately. Then he pressed a string of kisses down the side of her neck, fervently demonstrating the sincerity of his proposal.
    A soft moan escaped Penelope as she arched against his lips. His breath was hot, scorching her with desire. And when he slowly trailed his tongue across her bare shoulder, the slippery warmth of his licking caress sent a flurry of sensation rushing to the pit of her stomach, melting her insides into liquid fire.
    Seth … she gasped, breathlessly protesting his amorous assault. But then his mouth slipped lower to nip at the swell of her breasts, and she surrendered to his seductive ministrations.
    Say yes, Princess . Playfully he bit the delicate lace edging the neckline of her dressing gown. Say you’ll be mine forever .
    Her breath was coming in short, strangled gasps now, her body quivered out of control. Instinctively she curved her back against his belly, eagerly absorbing the heat of his passion, hungrily accepting his promise of rapture.
    Moaning his name over and over again, she reached back and wrapped her arms around his lean waist, urging his body nearer. Like a submissive slave helplessly obeying his mistress’s sensual command, he sobbed once and pressed his groin against her back.
    The feel of his arousal, rock-hard and thrusting between her shoulder blades, maddened her beyond shame. Heedless of everything, save her own desire for Seth, she slipped her hands lower and wantonly clenched at his tight buttocks.
    No , he growled, pulling away. Not like this .
    Penelope whimpered, suddenly bereft without his touch. Seth —
    Kneeling beside her chair, he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. His expression tender, he reached out and lightly sketched through the masklike coating of cold cream on her cheek.
    Marry me , he wrote. Then he enclosed the words in a heart, branding her with his loving declaration. She could smell his scent now. Distinctively woodsy … exotically sweet … beguiling.
    Slowly his lips curved into the crooked smile she always found so entrancing. As his gaze captured hers in the mirror, she saw his naked longing reflected in the topaz richness of his wonderful eyes. It was then that he whispered …
    â€œIt was dreadful, my dear! Absolutely dreadful!”
    Instantly Penelope’s bittersweet dream shattered into a thousand razor-edged slivers of regret. “W-what?” she stuttered, completely disoriented.
    â€œWhy, the way those filthy cretins tried to ravish you, of course.” Euphemia Hotchkiss plopped down onto the stool