Sweet Dreams by Rochelle Alers Read Free Book Online Page B

island. There was a soft popping sound when he removed the cork from the bubbly wine. Reaching for two flutes on a rack, he half filled the glasses with orange juice, topping it off with champagne before gently stirring the mixture.
    Chandra arranged the fruit in glass dessert bowls. She started with melon balls, adding sliced kiwi, and topped them off with orange sections. The contrasting colors were soft, the fresh fruit inviting.
    “Do you want me to set the table?” she asked Preston.
    “That can wait until after we toast each other.” He handed her a flute, touching his glass to hers. “Here’s to a successful collaboration.” Their gazes met as they sipped the orange-infused champagne cocktail. She smiled over the rim of the flute.
    Chandra let the sweet, tart liquid slide slowly down the back of her throat. “It’s delicious.”
    Preston nodded.
    Chandra set down her glass. She didn’t want to drink too much before she had a chance to eat. “Where are your dishes?”
    “They’re in the cabinet over the sink.”
    “What about coffee or tea?”
    “I’ll have whatever you have,” he said.
    “What about juice, chef?”
    “I’m not a chef, Chandra.”
    Preston turned and glared at Chandra, but he couldn’t stay angry with her when he saw the humor in her eyes. He was going to enjoy working with her. There was nodoubt she was a free spirit if she’d left the States to teach in Belize.
    His gaze softened when Chandra swayed to the Latin-infused baseline beats of “All Would Envy” written by Sting and sung by Shawn Colvin.
    He took three long strides and pulled her into a close embrace. She fit perfectly within the arc of his arms. They danced as if they’d performed the action countless times. Preston closed his eyes, listening to the words about a wealthy older man who was the envy of other men, old and young, because he’d convinced a beautiful young woman to marry him.
    Everything about the woman in his arms seeped into him. She was becoming the heroine in Death’s Kiss. Chandra was right. The play had to have a happy ending. He knew very little about vampires, but he remembered stories about mortals who were bitten by vampires and needed to feed on human blood in order to stay alive.
    “Pascual has to be an incredible dancer,” Chandra said softly.
    “In other words, he must waltz.”
    Leaning back, she smiled up at Preston. “Yes, but his dance of choice is the tango.”
    “Where did he learn to tango?” Preston asked.
    “In Argentina, of course.”
    Inky-black eyebrows lifted a fraction. “So, your vampire is from South America?”
    “Yes. He’s lived there for two centuries, hence his name. He’s the son of a noble Spanish landowner and an African slave. Although the tango did not become popular outside of the Argentine ghettos until the early years of the twentieth century, Pascual time travels from one century to another, establishing his reputation as a professional dancer.”
    Preston angled his head. “I like that you made him mixed race.”
    “Why’s that,” Chandra asked.
    “Because Josette is also mixed race, and, like her mother, is a free woman of color. I’ve decided to make her a quadroon, because the character will be easier to cast when I begin auditions. Josette’s mother will present her at one of the balls the year she turns sixteen.”
    “Isn’t she rather young?”
    Preston twirled Chandra around and around in an intricate dance step. “Not at all. Josette’s mother, who is also plaçée , made certain her daughter was educated in France, so once she completes her education Josette will be ready to marry and set up her own household.”
    “Will she meet Pascual at the ball?”
    He pondered her question. “No. That would be too contrived. She’ll see him for the first time two weeks before the ball when she goes to her dressmaker for a final fitting of her gown. He’s there with another woman, who is also a vampire, whom Josette believes is his