Page 57 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
We drive through the city. It’s late afternoon, early evening, and the sun is streaking pink across the sky. Anya is staring forward out of the front window, and the pink light is reflecting off her soft smile. “It’s really gorgeous. I’m growing quite fond of this city.”
“This city suits you,” I say, turning into a side street outside the old movie theater. It’s a vintage theatre that screens oldies from before our time. But tonight, it’s empty, booked for a private event for just two people.
“What is this place?” Anya asks when I open the door for her and help her out of the car, her long, tanned legs elegant in her high heels.
“This is a vintage theater.” I gesture towards the old building with ornate stone carved archways and two massive gargoyles sitting on either side of the stairway leading to the front entrance.
“I love the gothic undertones,” she whispers, staring in awe.
“What, until you see the inside. It’s like Count Dracula himself was the designer,” I chuckle.
Anya leans into me as we walk with my arm around her waist into the old building. Dark red velvet curtains arch above us, and a gold polished candelabra holds melted candles with soft flickering flames.
“This place is amazing.” Anya giggles, wiggling her hips in excitement. “Are we watching a movie?”
I pull her towards two wide wooden doors, and a man in a tuxedo bows and pushes them open for us. “Welcome to your private screening,” he says ominously. Anya giggles again and moves closer to me.
Inside the old theater, they’ve cleared the space and set up a very beautiful picnic right in the center of the room.
A dark red blanket spread out on the floor with candles in ornate holders surrounding it. Red wine and silver platters of cheese, biscuits, meats, and fruits are waiting for us.
Anya’s mouth drops open. “This is all for us?” she asks, shocked.
“This is all for you, kitten. And wait until you see what movie we’re watching.” I smirk, one corner of my mouth curling into a smile.
I lead her to the blanket, and we get comfortable, propping ourselves on pillows and lying cuddled together as the movie starts playing and a projector splashes lights onto a white screen.
Across our view, the title of the movie appears in flickering black letters.From Beyond.Eerie music fills the theater.
Anya squeals with excitement. “Stuart Gordon’s movie based on HP Lovecraft’s book!” she shouts happily. “This movie was filmed in 1986. How in the world did you find a copy of it?”
“It wasn’t easy, but with a reaction like that—it was worth every effort it took.” I pull her closer to me, my heart warming.
Watching the movie with her is amazing. Sipping red wine, we giggle at the old special effects and over-the-top acting. We laugh at the parts that are supposed to be scary, and I love every minute of being here with her.
It’s a challenge to be huddled up with her in the dim romantic light of the theater, and I’m constantly aware of where my hands are and how her body is curved against mine, her heat, her scent, and her softness all pulling my thoughts in the wrong directions.
It’s almost a relief with the credits beginning to roll and the lights slowly fade in brighter.
Anya sits up, straightening her dress and grinning beautifully. “That was incredible, Em. Thank you so much for arranging that for me. It was really special.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Let’s go for a drive. Maybe we can find a nice place to get dessert?”
I stand up and offer her my hand, pulling her to her feet. For a moment, we stand against each other, her eyes locked on mine, and the sweetest smile on her lips. Her eyes drift to my mouth. She sucks her bottom lip in.
Her cheeks blush pink, and she quickly steps away.
“I’d love something with caramel,” she says, turning towards the door.
“Caramel cheesecake?” I ask, following her out past the man in the tuxedo, who bows dramatically.
“Thank you, have a lovely night,” Anya calls out to him as we leave the theatre and head back to the car.
It’s the perfect night. The air is warm, with not a breath of wind disturbing the tall palm trees towering over us as I start the engine. I press a button on the dash and the roof slowly slides off the car, disappearing into the trunk, out of sight. Anya tilts her head up to look at the stars, glittering in the dark blue sky.
“It’s so bright tonight,” she remarks.
“It must be a new moon,” I reply.
