Loving on Borrowed Time

Lovers’ Leap (Book 1)

by Olivia Cunning

Copyright 2011 Olivia Cunning

Smashwords Edition

Books Currently Available by Olivia Cunning

Sinners on Tour Series

Backstage Pass – Sinners on Tour #1

Rock Hard – Sinners on Tour #2

Lovers’ Leap Series

Loving on Borrowed Time – Lovers’ Leap #1

If you downloaded this book for free, it is a pirated copy.

While fictional pirates may be sexy, book pirates are never sexy.

Please respect the hard work of authors by purchasing their works from reputable sellers.

Chapter 1

Lara stood before the Artifacts of Ancient Egypt case and admired her handy work. She’d toiled over this particular display and it showed. The intact pieces of pottery, jewelry, tools, mummified cat, and other ancient Egyptian objects had been arranged to draw interest. Small cards, signifying months of work, displayed the name, date and a brief history of each item. Still, Lara couldn’t help but feel something was missing. The pieces in the collection were diverse and in remarkable condition, but none were particularly exciting. Lara longed to take an expedition and search for artifacts herself. She’d always pictured herself creeping through crypts, touring tombs, discovering digs and pondering pyramids, but her existence as a museum curator wasn’t very Indiana Jones. Her life in no way resembled what she’d envisioned for herself back in college. She’d experienced no adventure since graduating. No adventure at all.

Lara caught movement out of the corner of her eye and whirled around. She expected to see Tim, the night watchman, standing there leering at her as he was wont to do, but this man was not Tim. This man was young, virile, and had the oddest expression on his handsome face as he stared at her. He looked like he knew a thing or two about adventure. The guy was so masculine it should be a crime. Just ogling him made Lara’s toes curl in her sensible pumps. He was about average in height, but there wasn’t anything else average about him. The black tank top he wore drew all the right attention (hers) to his sculpted arms and chest, narrow waist and, em, belt. A tribal design had been inked on his right shoulder and he had bad boy tattooed across his forehead. Not really, but he might as well have. As handsome as he was, with his even features, penetrating, hazel-green eyes, and strong, kissable lips, Lara avoided bad boys as a rule. Bad boys broke hearts. Not that she knew that from experience or anything.

The nameless hunk watched her for a moment, then bit his lip and jammed his hands into the pockets of his baggie, cargo pants.

“How did you get in here?” Lara asked. “The museum closed three hours ago.”

“That’s not important,” he said. “I need to talk to you, Lara.”

Her brow knotted. Did she know him? It wasn’t possible. She’d have remembered him. He had the looks of a movie star and the presence of warrior. And the body of an underwear model. Not that she was still checking him out or anything. Okay, she was. Why, oh why, couldn’t nice guys be this hot?

“How do you know my name?” she managed to ask.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes strangely damp, and then glanced down at her chest. Yo, stud muffin, my eyes are approximately fifteen inches North.

“Lara Kensington,” he read aloud, “Museum Curator.”

She followed his line of vision to her nametag, affixed to the jacket lapel of her conservative, tan, skirt suit. She didn’t quite believe that was how he knew her name—he looked at her with such familiarity and longing—but there were more important things going on here. How in the hell had he gotten past security? Was he a burglar? A kidnapper? Her heart raced with excitement. Dread? Yeah, dread. Her heart raced with dread.

Lara glanced at the alarm panic button behind him, knowing it was her duty to call for help.

He grinned. “You aren’t thinking of setting off the alarm, now, are you?”

Well, she wouldn’t be getting the award for “Most Subtle in a Crisis” this year. Perhaps, if she distracted him, she could reach the alarm.

“Who are you?” she asked.

That sad look again, as if it hurt him that she didn’t know who he was. Was he some sort of ego maniac? She pictured him wearing a t-shirt that read: My reputation doth proceed me.

“My name is Reece Jericho. I really need to talk to you. It pertains to your impending murder.”

She hadn’t recovered from discovering who he was, before he hit her with that second whammy. She gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

He chuckled. “You always were adorable when unsettled.”

“You’re planning to kill me?” she squeaked. Reece Jericho—famed artifact and treasure hunter—was a killer? She’d been trying to contact him to purchase artifacts for months and he hadn’t had the decency to return her inquiries until now. He finally shows up and comes up with some crazy story about her impending murder? What was his game? Did he think she’d pay more for his junk... Her eyes drifted below his waistband. His junk. She shook her head at her errant thoughts. Did he think she’d pay more for his artifacts if she was freaked out? Because she was about three seconds from completely freaking out.

His intense, hazel eyes widened, “Oh, God no, sweetheart, I’m here to save you before it happens.”

Her eyes moved to the alarm panic button again. Wait a minute. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”

“Forgive me. I keep forgetting that we haven’t met yet.”

“If you would be so kind as to make a damned bit of sense, I’d be much obliged, Mr. Jericho.”

“I’m from the future.”

She lifted both eyebrows at him. “You’re from the future,” she said in a flat tone. “I know a great psychiatrist, Jericho. Specializes in serious nutcases. I’ll get you her number.”

He shook his head. “We don’t have much time, Lara. He’ll be here soon.”

“This psychiatrist happens to be a woman.”

“Not a psychiatrist. Carl.”

Carl seemed like the least of her problems at the moment. Reece Jericho was obviously unsettled. She needed to keep him talking until she could pull the alarm. Maniacs liked to talk about their nefarious plans, right? She’d seen a superhero movie or two. “Let’s start with this murder thing,” she suggested. “How do you know I’m going to be murdered?”

His voice was raw when he said, “Because, I found you. Dead.”

He pulled his hand out of the pocket of his tan cargo pants and drew out a folded piece of newspaper. He bit his lip, before handing her the clipping. She took it from him, her heart thudding unexpectedly at their close proximity. Lovely, just lovely. She had the hots for a psycho. He smelled good, too. Just a hint of aftershave and a heap of male. Why, oh why, couldn’t nice guys smell this good? Nice, sane guys. Her eyes met his and time seemed to stop for a moment. The man should hand out drool bibs as a courtesy to the dry-clean-only wardrobes of unsuspecting women. My God, he was gorgeous. Dark hair, just long enough to make her want to lose her fingers in it. Hazel eyes that missed nothing. And when he chewed on his lip like that, it made her think it must be pretty tasty. She wouldn’t mind a sample or two. Too bad he was flippin’ crazy!

Lara forced herself to look away, the worn clipping in her hand demanding her attention. She read the headline and it nearly tossed her on her fanny. Curator Found Dead in Museum Parking Garage. Beside the text of the article was a picture of her that she didn’t recognize. In it, she was posing with none other than Reece Jericho and looked happier than Mrs. Smith at a pie-eating competition.

“That’s you,” she blurted. “And me.” She looked up at him. “I don’t remember having this picture taken. I’ve never even met you.”

“You wouldn’t remember,” he said. “Look at the date.”

Her eyes returned to the clipping, seeking the date. Her confusion was absolute. “That’s a year from now. This must be a misprint.” She flipped the page over and found part of an ad for satellite television service. It looked like a regular newspaper clipping, but...

“It’s not a misprint, Lara. It’s real.”

He waited while her mind raced to put all of this information together.

“How?” she breathed. She scanned the article’s text, trying to make sense of it. There were few details on the crime because investigators were stumped as to motive and suspects, most of the article was about her work and life. Some of the things printed were not in her memory because they hadn’t happened yet. The final line of the article threw her for another loop. Ms. Kensington’s fiancé, Reece Jericho, could not be reached for questioning.

“Fiancé?” she sputtered, looking up at him again.

“I’ll tell you about my marriage proposal sometime,” he said, grinning at her. “But right now, we need to get out of here.”

“I don’t care if you do look like Orlando Bloom on steroids and claim to be my future fiancé, I’m not going anywhere with you. You could have easily fabricated this whole thing and made this picture and this newspaper with some fancy computer softw—”

He placed one finger on her lips. “I knew you’d have a hard time accepting this, but I don’t have time to reason with your logic, sweath—Lara. We can’t stick around here. He’s sure to catch up with me soon and if he gets his hands on you...”

“Who?”

“I already told you. Carl.” He said the guy’s name as if he were Gandhi or Madonna or Prince and only needed one name to be readily identifiable.

“I don’t know any Carl.” Lara heard a low hum come from the vicinity of Reece’s chest.

“Shit. Too late,” he said. “We have to hide.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, leaning closer to his chest to listen more closely and maybe inhale his arousing scent a little. The humming was growing louder. “What’s that sound?”

Reece took Lara by the arm and pulled her behind a large statue of the Egyptian sun god Ra. He glanced around and finding they were still alone, reached into the neck hole of his black tank top, which clung to his hard-muscle chest like a second skin. He pulled out a broken amulet that hung from a leather cord around his neck. The strange piece of jewelry was humming, the sound growing louder by the second.

“What is that?” she asked, trembling fingers moving towards the amulet. It was made of beige stone and had hieroglyphics carved into its surface. Half a circle, it obviously had been cracked down the center. The other half of the amulet was missing.

“If he catches us, you will die, Lara, do you understand?”

Reece drew her against his chest, and she thought she should struggle against him—they were strangers and he was insane, after all—but being plastered to his muscular body did strange things to her sensibilities. His hold was both soothing and exciting. His large hand splayed over her lower back as he drew her nearer. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed against her hair. “I won’t let anything or anyone take you from me again.”

Oh great, he was a stalker, too.

There was a loud crackle and then the humming of the amulet stopped. Lara listened carefully, eyes roving as she sought the source of the unsettling feeling in the air. Booted footsteps echoed through the large exhibit room. Had the night watchman come to check on her? Finally! I’m saved! Strange how she didn’t want to be saved from Mr. Hunky Whack Job Reece Jericho. Not one bit.

“I know you’re here,” the night watchman called. Except Tim usually spoke with a slow Southern draw and now he sounded like he was from Jersey. How very odd. “You can’t have her, Jericho. You can’t change the future or the past.”

Lara’s heart thudded. She had the sinking sensation that this guy was talking about her future. Her future death. Murdered at the age of thirty-three. She obviously didn’t want that.

Reece’s arms tightened around her. “We have to run, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Will you come with me?”

“Where?”

“We won’t know until we get there,” he said. “And it’s not so much a where, as it is a when.”

“Huh?”

“Hold on to the amulet,” he instructed. “I’m not sure it will take both of us together, but we have to try.”

She looked up at him, and he smiled. She wasn’t sure why, but she trusted him. Perhaps it was because no one had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her—as if she were the greatest treasure on Earth. And the man was a treasure hunter by trade, so he knew a good find when he found one. Lara took his broken, stone amulet in her hand. He covered her hand with his, closed his eyes and whispered a strange series of words. Egyptian words.

“Found you,” Tim, the night watchman, said. His form wavered between his own likeness and that of an entirely different man. An unfamiliar big guy with jet-black hair flickered to the weasely, balding man Lara knew and then back to the thug-looking guy again. It was as if he were one of those hydrofoil images that changed from one picture to another when you tilted it. The air around him crackled with energy. Tim/whoever grimaced when his eyes fell upon the amulet. “Dammit, Jericho. Let her go.”

A faint yellow glow surrounded them.

“Sorry, Carl,” Reece said. “Not this time.”

The loud hum coming from the amulet in Lara and Reece’s combined hands crackled. The sensation of falling sideways gripped Lara and she cried out in surprise. She was not in contact with the Earth any more. The only thing solid was Reece. Her arms went around his waist as she held onto him with all her strength, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Easy,” he said breathlessly. “Almost finished. It doesn’t hurt. I promise.”

There was a second loud crackle, and Lara felt the Earth come into contact with her feet again. It wasn’t as if they touched down, but as if the Earth appeared beneath them suddenly.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he said.

Lara realized something was different immediately. First, the smooth fabric of Reece’s tank top was now thick and furry—an animal hide. Second, the sounds were definitely not those of a silent museum. Screams of fright, raucous laughter, roaring flames, and the sounds of destruction surrounded them. And the last time she had checked, she’d been wearing shoes. Her bare feet were now planted in a thin layer of snow, and there was a breeze blowing up her backside that did little for her peace of mind.

“Well, this is an unexpected, yet pleasant, surprise,” Reece said, his hand sliding down the bare skin of her back.

Lara released the amulet and jerked away from him. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting this reaction because he offered no resistance. She fell backwards and landed on her naked rump in the snow. Naked? Why was she naked? She shrieked in discomfort, and then looked up at Reece, planning to give him a piece of her mind. But it wasn’t Reece who was standing over her, looking amused and concerned at the same time. It was some gigantic, blond man, with a scraggly beard and a horned helmet on his head.

A Viking?

A Viking!

Lara screamed and tried to scramble away.

Chapter 2

The huge Viking leaned over Lara and offered her a meaty hand. A meaty hand, splattered with blood. Human blood, she imagined.

“Get away from me!” she screamed. “Help! Someone help me!”

Lara glanced around desperately, eyes darting from one horrific sight to the next. Men lay dead in the village roads. Humble huts blazed, engulfed in flames. Screaming women pleaded with captors as they were dragged toward the shore in the distance. Elders, tears streaming, gathered the children and hustled them away from the ruined village.

“Lara, it’s me,” the Viking said. He was speaking Norse. And she understood him!

Lara laughed and a numbing calm spread over her. This was dream. That explained everything. Now what had Freud said about dreaming you were naked? Something about the ego, or was it the id? Maybe it was the Iliad. No that was Greek mythology, not Norse. She laughed again, tears streaming down her face now, as she bemoaned herself for eating carmel and chocolate truffle ice cream before bedtime. Wow, this was a doozy of a nightmare. And realistic. She could smell the burning wood, feel the cold of the snow against her bare skin, taste the acrid smoke in the air. Feel the warmth of the giant Viking’s hand wrap around her wrist.

She gaped up at him.

“I know this is a lot to accept at the moment,” he said, speaking English now in Reece’s voice. For a scant second she saw him—Reece—but in the next, scary Viking guy was back. The Norseman looked solid, while Reece’s brief likeness had been but a glimmer. “And as much as I like you naked, we need to find you some clothes before you freeze.” But that was unmistakably Reece’s voice.

“Reece?” she questioned, her uncontrollable laughter turning into body quaking sobs. “You sound like… like, Reece, but…but…but…you don’t look… look like him.”

“Well, that’s how this works, sweetheart,” he said, gently, brushing a tear from her cheek, “but you can see through the illusion, if you try.”

She was astonished when the image of the enormous Viking before her flickered. Reece appeared. He looked solid this time and he smiled. “Now, you have to play along. You should probably struggle a bit. They need to believe you’re my captive.”

“Who’s they?”

Reece nodded towards a group of men heading in their direction. More Vikings.

Lara shivered, half from the cold, the other half was undoubtedly fear. She let out a squeak of surprise when Reece lifted her and tossed her over one broad shoulder, exposing her bare ass to all who cared to observe.

“Put me down!” she demanded, pounding on his back with both fists. She was speaking Norse. Norse? How did she know Norse? She knew a bit of ancient Egyptian, but...

He patted her bare bottom. “Watch the kidneys,” he said under his breath.

“Eirick, you’ve got yourself a feisty one there,” one of the Vikings called to Reece.

Eirick?

“Aye, but a comely wench,” Reece said in perfect Norse.

“I said put me down!” Lara demanded, flailing her legs wildly. She still spoke Norse, but wasn’t sure how it was possible.

“You don’t have to overdo the acting, sweetheart,” Reece said quietly in English, emitting a pained gasp when her toe connected with God-knows-what.

“Who’s acting?” she cried. “Put me down, right now!”

“If she’s a too much for yeh, I’ll calm her right down,” one of the Vikings said, he grabbed a hand full of Lara’s hair and forced her head back so he could look at her. “She is a comely wench.” The pins holding Lara’s deep brown hair in its neat bun came loose and masses of turbulent curls fell free, surrounding her face and partially blocking her vision.

“This wench is my prize. I’ll enjoy taming this one,” Reece claimed to his Viking compatriots, patting her bare rump again.

“Let go of my hair!” she demanded of the crude Viking.

Her eyes widened when he lifted his fist to strike her. Reece caught the man’s wrist. “Don’t damage her looks.”

“She has it coming. This one needs to learn a bit of respect.”

“I need something to make my blood hot on cold nights. Her temper will do me good. She’s too scrawny to offer much warmth in my bed. Look at these scrawny thighs.” A hand ran up Lara’s thigh and she squirmed. “Not enough meat on them to keep my hips warm when she’s got those skinny things locked around my back.”

This drew much appreciative laughter from the other Vikings. Lara’s face flamed. An elbow to Reece’s back alerted him to her dissatisfaction with his boasts.

“Screw you,” she said between clenched teeth.

“That can be arranged,” he told her, his free hand sliding down the back of her naked thigh now. Since her view was of the boots of various Vikings surrounding them, she could only imagine the devilish grin gracing Reece’s handsome features at the moment. “Now, be good.”

“Me?” she sputtered. “You’re the one—”

“Saving you from a brutal, gang rape,” he whispered.

He was probably right. For now, she would cooperate, but when she got him alone, she would be sure to voice her protests. And viciously.

“I’d better get some clothing on this wench. Wouldn’t want anything important to freeze off,” Reece claimed. He turned and stalked off towards the nearest home that was not burning. “Men, load the loot and ready the long boat. We’ll set sail for home before midday.”

There was a loud call of agreement among the men and the sounds of them going about their duties.

“So you are their leader?” Lara questioned, trying not to concentrate on the repetitive stroking of Reece’s hand up and down the back of her thigh. She was too angry to be turned on. Much too angry. Plus his shoulder was cutting into her ribcage. She was much too uncomfortable and cold for the flesh between her thighs to be swelling. Growing damp. Achy. This was not the time to be imagining him naked in her arms, thrusting steadily into her eager body. It was a totally inappropriate time to find herself ignited into a blazing lust by the gentle touch of his hand.

“Yes, I’m their leader.”

“How can you tell? Do you have the thoughts of this guy you are posing as?”

“No, I’m the only one with horns on my helmet.”

“Ah,” she agreed. “Makes sense.”

Reece unnecessarily kicked open the door of a small, wooden house and stomped into the structure. “If there is anyone in here, they’d better run away now,” he growled.

There was a slight movement to the right. A large, orange cat hissed loudly and then raced out of the house. Nothing else stirred. Reece glanced around the one room hut and then closed the door before gently setting Lara on her feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No, I’m not okay!” she sputtered. “What in the hell is going on? How are we here among Vikings? Is this real? Are we stuck here forever? And where did you get that amulet? Is that how we got here? Are we in the past? Is this a dream? How can I speak Norse? I don’t know Norse. Do you know Norse?”

He placed two fingers on her lips. “One question at a time,” he said. He scowled. “Even your lips are cold. You must be freezing.”

Actually, she was rather cold.

He cupped her cheek and gazed down at her. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. That blazing lust thing was warming certain parts of her body quite well actually.

“Let me warm those up for you.”

He lowered his head and brushed his warm lips against her chilled ones. For her, this was their first kiss, but he obviously knew her well. He showed no hesitation at all as his suckled her upper lip and brushed her lower with the tip of his tongue. He drew her against him, his hands sliding down her naked back. Her excitement-and/or-cold-hardened nipples pressed into his hard chest. Wait a minute. She didn’t even know this guy. And she was rubbing her naked breasts all over him. And opening her mouth so he could tease her tongue with his. And relaxing her stance so he could slip his thigh between her legs. And why exactly did it feel so right to lose herself in his arms? In his kiss? Whatever caused his insanity was obviously infectious.

She turned her head, separating their mouths. Damn her sensibility anyway.

He ran his thumb over her lips. “Warmer now?”

Warm? She was on fire. She nodded slightly.

“Good. We’ll pick this up later. Somewhere a little less pillage and burn.”

She should have protested that “pick this up later” comment. Should have, but didn’t. She was thinking he could press her up against the wall and have his way with her and she’d be perfectly okay with that. She touched her flaming cheeks with cool fingertips. Easy girl. No matter how hot Reece was or who he claimed to be, she didn’t go having sex with some guy she met half an hour ago. At least, she shouldn’t.

“I love you,” he murmured.

He loved her? Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.

“Sorry. You’re probably not ready to hear that yet,” he said quietly.

She stared up at him, feeling a bit woozy and light-headed. “Are we really engaged in the future?”

He smiled gently. “Yeah. We need to get some clothes on that gorgeous body of yours, so I can better control myself.” He turned and glanced around the modest hut. He approached a collection of clothes hanging from hooks on the wall, selected a garment, and tossed it to her. She caught it, sniffed it, and made a face.

“It doesn’t smell very clean.” Understatement. It smelled like cat piss.

He grinned at her. “Well, next dry cleaners we happen upon, we’ll stop and have it cleaned for you.”

She huffed. “Thanks. That would be appreciated.”

She struggled into the garment, pulling it on over her head and writhing about like a big snake in a small sock, until the dress slid into place. It was at least three sizes too small. She suspected it was a child’s dress. It sure wasn’t designed for a woman with curves.

“And you said I was scrawny,” she said, glancing down at the bodice of the gown. She adjusted her breasts into a more comfortable position and they threatened to spill out of the top.

“You’re beautiful.”

She glanced up from the constrictive, smelly dress and her breath caught. The smoldering look transfixed to Reece’s handsome face made her weak in the knees. She licked her lips self-consciously and ran her hands over her temperamental hair.

“You do look a tad uncomfortable though,” he said, eyes trained on the sleeves of the dress cutting into her upper arms. The sleeves were so tight, she couldn’t even lower her arms completely. He chuckled. “We’ll see if there is something else you can wear. It looked like it would fit.”

She wasn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment or an insult.

Reece turned back to the hooks of clothes and she lowered her eyes to her feet. They were so cold she couldn’t feel them, yet she was wishing Reece was still looking at her instead of finding her something to wear.

“There’s this,” he said. “It’s sure to keep my desire at bay.”

He held up a huge shirt, obviously intended for a man—a mountain of a man. She was certain it wouldn’t be flattering, but in front of those Vikings, the last thing she wanted to do was show off her assets. She’d already unwillingly showed off her ass.

“That’s fine, Reece,” she said quietly. “Will you answer my questions now?”

He strode across the room and handed the shirt to her. “A few. But we should hurry. Wouldn’t want my underlings thinking I have a soft spot for a wench.”

“And why do I have to be a wench?” she asked, fisted hand on either hip, mostly because she couldn’t straighten her arms, but she knew she looked angry in this pose. “Why can’t I be a fair maiden?” She tossed her head, sending her curls dancing about her head.

He chuckled. “I think you’re a tad too saucy to be a maiden.”

“So now I’m a saucy wench?”

She glanced up at him to find him staring at the mounds of her breasts.

“Should I have a plastic surgeon move my eyes to my chest?” she asked.

He laughed and looked up into her eyes. “That would be rather convenient.”

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to figure out that she was all talk. She drew the enormous shirt over her head, and struggled to remove the too small dress underneath.

“You’ve made quite a mess of things,” he said. “I could turn my back if you are feeling shy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be feeling shy? I’ve known you for scarcely an hour and you’ve… you’ve...” Memories of his touch, his kiss instantly warmed her cheeks. “Just turn around!”

“Getting you to fall for me again will be fun,” he said. “It was none too easy the first time. Good thing I like a challenge.” He laughed at some memory he shared with future-her. Now, there was a weird thought.

“I can’t imagine why,” she said sarcastically. “Did you manhandle me within the first thirty minutes of meeting me the first time?” She pulled off the large shirt and struggled out of the little dress.

“No. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Smart guy.”

“It took me several months to find that blazing hot, sensual woman beneath the conservative outer shell. And boy was she worth the wait.” He whistled long and loud.

Hot, sensual woman? He obviously was making stuff up. Poking fun at her. What a jerk! “I guess you’re not so smart after all.”

He laughed harder. “Ah, Lara, you can’t begin to realize how much I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Who are you again?”

“I’m Eirick, king of the Vikings.”

She finally got the dress off and hurriedly tossed on the men’s shirt. It fell to mid-thigh and was better than being nude, but not much.

“Vikings don’t have kings. They have chieftains,” she told him and brushed past him as she approached the clothes on the hooks. Now that her wits were settling into place, she was much happier to fend for herself than to rely on him for assistance.

“Maybe I’m the first.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was staring at her bare legs. “Caught again,” she said.

His eyes moved to her face. “I’m trying to contain myself.” Their eyes locked. “I’m not doing a very good job. It’s been eight months since I last saw you.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s been never.”

“I know.” He sighed heavily. “We’d better hurry and get back to the men.”

“Are there any shoes around here?” she asked, finding a worn pair of trousers. She slipped into them and was immediately engulfed by the pants. Reece could have fit in these pants with her. Belly to belly. Thigh to thigh. Mound to… She blew out a breath to clear her thoughts. You’d think the impending doom and gloom would cool her desire, but no. Damn the man for unsettling her so. Lara looked around for a belt, while Reece hunted for some potential footwear. She found a length of rope and cinched it around her waist, before rolling up the trousers several times at the ankles. The shoes he found were a bit small, but she could handle the pinched toes if she didn’t have to walk barefoot through snow.

“Let’s go,” Reece said.

“Wait, you haven’t answered any of my questions yet.”

He sighed impatiently. “One,” he bargained, “and then we go.”

She nodded. “Are we stuck here permanently?”

He shook his head, “As soon as Carl catches up with us, we can leap again.”

“And how long will that be?” she asked, listening for sounds of humming coming from his amulet. It remained silent.

“Usually around three days, give or take. And that was two questions,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“How do I look?”

He gave her the once over. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m picturing you naked.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you sure future-me agreed to marry you?”

“I think you only wanted me for my body.” He struck a ridiculous super model pose with one hand behind his head and his hip jutted forward in her direction, and then winked at her.

She laughed. “Well, it couldn’t have been for your lame sense of humor.” Though she seemed to be laughing quite a lot. Considering their situation, she was surprised she wasn’t huddled in fetal position, quaking in fear, and sobbing with remorse.

He crossed the room and opened the front door, holding it open for her. “Let’s go, saucy wench. I have Vikings to lead. Villages to pillage.”

“Saucy wenches to tame,” she added as she passed him.

“Now, why would I want a tame one?” he asked and swatted her on the rear.

She glared at him, but he just grinned. The man was enjoying himself far too much. And despite all her protests, she’d like to enjoy him a little more.

Chapter 3

There were seven women, in addition to Lara, tied back to back in pairs, sitting on the bottom of the long boat. Reece had taken it upon himself to tie her up, telling her to pretend she was tightly bound. Her ropes were loose enough for her to pull free, but their ruse had to be believable. She allowed the curtain of her ever bothersome curly hair to shield her face so she could watch the Vikings, in particular the fake Viking standing at the prow of the boat who claimed to know her in the future. The oars sloshed in the water rhythmically as they navigated the coast of some frigid land. Lara suspected it to be Norway, but she couldn’t be sure.

The woman tied to Lara’s back was crying softly. Another woman leaned against the distraught woman to try to bring her comfort. She murmured words of encouragement beneath the bawdy singing and rhythmic rowing of the Viking warriors. Lara didn’t doubt the captives had lost husbands that day and likely would never see their children again. She began to formulate a plan of escape for all of them. Lara knew they would have to wait until they reached shore—no one would survive the frigid waters—but surely, with Reece’s help, they could free these women and allow them to return to what was left of their families.

The sun had set over an hour ago, and a dense fog hugged the shoreline. The dragon figurehead projected from the prow of the boat and sliced through the night like a monster of nightmares. Lara sniffed her frozen nose and wished she had the use of her hands to warm the tips of her ears. She was shivering, her teeth chattering together like a windup novelty toy. The baggie clothes she wore allowed for a somewhat insulated layer of air above her skin, and the woman to her right shared some body heat, but Lara could not remember ever being so cold. The hard deck beneath her provided no comfort, and her back ached from being in such an uncomfortable position for over a dozen hours.

The warrior standing beside Reece at the prow, suddenly shouted, “Lift your oars!”

The oars lifted out of the water in semi-unison and the boat slowed. Several ropes were tossed overboard.

“Pull her in!”

Splashing could be heard in the water near the head of the boat and the vessel began to move forward slowly, until it scraped across land and came to a complete stop.

“Put the slaves to work,” one of the lead Vikings called to the crew.

The captives were untied from each other and hauled to their feet. A few of the women cried out in protest but were quickly silenced with a backhand across the face. Though her legs were cramping as if she’d run a marathon, Lara climbed to her feet without assistance, and obediently took the heavy sack someone handed her and passed it to the next person in the chain as they unloaded the boat assembly-line fashion.

Once the stolen goods were safely on shore, the human cargo was unceremoniously tossed overboard. The largest of the warriors caught the frightened women and rather than setting them down, handed them off to other men who carried them towards the fiery lights in the distance.

Lara tensed when it was her turn to be hefted overboard. The big warrior on the ground caught her easily and started to hand her off to some Viking she did not recognize. Before she could protest, a familiar voice sounded in the dim light given off by torches.

“That one is mine. Take her to my quarters and don’t mess her up. Leave that to me.”

Lara knew it was part of Reece’s ruse, but she couldn’t stop the thread of fear winding itself around her heart, giving her an unsettled, panicky feeling in her stomach. The warrior started forward, carrying Lara away from the security Reece offered to the unknown of the settlement in the distance. She felt some of the terror the other women must be feeling. At least, she would be leaving this brutal world soon. The other slaves had the rest of their lives to spend here. She had to help them escape somehow. The warrior carrying her copped a feel, but she was too terrified to protest and pretended he was accidentally squeezing her breast like a ripe melon. You didn’t mess with a burly, bearded guy carrying an ax. Nope, wasn’t going to happen.

They entered a long, wooden structure. Vikings apparently had a “thing” for all things long. Long boats, long swords, long houses. Long beards. Now, just what were they compensating for? She grinned at the thought, imagining Mr. Fondle would own a very expensive sports car if he’d lived in the future. Lara was carried to the rear of the building and dumped on the floor inside a small room.

“Stay here. Punishment will not be kind if you disobey,” the warrior warned. Her look of fright must have assured him of her obedience, for he turned on his heel and strode away, closing the door behind him.

Lara glanced around Reece’s “quarters”. Not much by way of furniture, but plenty of warm bed coverings. She dove into the pallet on the platform built into the wall and huddled beneath the blankets and hides, attempting to regain some body heat.

Reece arrived some time later. She was certain he’d been busy doing his Vikingly duties. Whatever those might be.

“Reece?” she called.

“I thought you might be asleep,” he said, removing the wicked helmet from his head and running his hands through his dark brown hair. It was longer in the front than the back and had a habit of falling over his right eye. “Are you hungry? I think I’m expected at the party. You’ll probably have to serve me and keep me in mead. You think you can handle that?”

“Reece, we have to do something to help those women escape.”

He glanced at her and shook his head. He ground his teeth together and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’d like to, but we can’t risk it.”

“What? Why not?”

“We could change history forever. I know it seems cruel, but we can’t interfere with these events. It’s dangerous enough that we participate in them.”

“So we just let them be used and abused by these horrible people.”

“They aren’t so bad,” Reece told her, removing the fur that covered his shoulders and then the jacket underneath. The jacket was cloth, but had parallel rows of metal studs covering it. “Just doing what they must to survive. Now, slave girl, go find me some warm water so I can wash.”

“What?”

“Well, you don’t expect me to go get it, when I have a perfectly good slave to do my bidding,” he said, removing his undershirt now.

She stared at his bare back, her mouth going dry. He turned to look at her. “Are you going to laze there in my bed all evening? If that’s the case, I might have to join you.”

She crawled from the bed, heart thudding. “Well, I can’t have that!” she said. Her pants got tangled in the bedding which had tumbled to the floor. By the time she managed to free herself from the dastardly hides and blankets, her pants were at her ankles. Reece had the audacity to chuckle.

“Get yourself a decent saucy-wench dress while you’re at it. I can’t have my gorgeous captive slave looking like a beggar.”

She scowled at him.

“You promised to play along,” he reminded her.

“In public. We are not in public right now.”

“We will be. The longer you stay in this room alone with me, the more obvious it will become that you are most certainly not a fair maiden.”

He stalked across the room like a predator seeking his prey. He stopped before her and stared down at her hungrily. “On second thought, that’s exactly what I want them to think.”

Lara squeaked when Reece’s arm circled her waist. He pulled her against him and leaned closer until she could see the green flecks in his hazel eyes. Her stupid body went limp, melting against his as she anticipated the kiss she craved. “You know if I kiss you now, I’m not going to stop,” he said. “Not until you call my name in that sexy way you do when you come really hard.”

Her eyes ached as they widened to unnatural proportions. When she what? He didn’t really just say that did he? Heat crept up her neck and cheeks. She’d never been more embarrassed—or excited—in her entire life. How dare he speak to her like that?

“I still remember how good it feels to be buried in your hot, tight pussy.” His tongue slid between his lips and brushed against her upper lip. She gasped, but didn’t move away. “Like a glove of warm, slick satin.”

Pull away, she thought. Don’t let him talk to you like that. It’s indecent... And so sexy. Lara’s heart rate accelerated out of control and she knew she was panting but couldn’t help it. Nor could she help that her nipples were taut and her... pussy was hot, swollen and pulsating with need.

“I’ll fuck you deep and hard, Lara,” he said, his voice low. “My fingers digging into your ass to hold you still so I can grind against your clit with each thrust.”

Every nerve ending in her body was alive with excitement. She didn’t understand any of this. She wasn’t the type of woman who got all stupid and excited over a man and a few vulgar words. It just wasn’t her. Was it?

He grinned at her. “Don’t look so mortified, sweetheart. It took me months to figure out that you like dirty talk. It really turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Does not!” She shoved him away, too flustered to be angry about the knowing chuckle he emitted.

“Why don’t you go see if someone has something you can wear?” he said, as he continued undressing. “If you keep dropping those pants, I can’t be held accountable for trying to get in them.”

She scrambled out of the room, holding up her pants with one hand as she fled the room. She wasn’t going because he told her to. Or because she was so aroused that she’d probably let him get into her pants with no protest. Or that he was getting naked and she so wanted to ogle every inch of him. She was fleeing his presence because she wanted to. Yeah.

She closed the door behind her and went to find someone who looked like they knew what was going on. A tired-looking, middle-aged woman stood near the center of the main room, stirring a pot of stew over the fire. Along the walls of the longhouse were bunks built into the wall. Situated in front of the bunks were long, wooden tables. Some of the men were sitting on the bunks talking amongst themselves and enjoying enormous mugs of what Lara decided was mead.

As Lara passed one of the bunks, she heard a loud grunt. She caught sight of a large, blond man rhythmically thrusting into the flushed woman beneath him before he grunted again and collapsed on top of her. They were having sex right out there in the open! No one seemed to notice but Lara. Wide-eyed, Lara diverted her gaze and made a beeline for the woman standing over the fire.

“The chieftain would like some warm water so he can wash,” Lara said in perfect Norse, surprising herself again.

“Well, I ain’t about to get it. I’m cooking here, if you can’t tell.”

“I will get it. I just need to know how.”

Lara glanced down at the interesting stew bubbling over the fire. Various roots and chunks of meat floated to the top and sank beneath the rich broth again as the woman stirred. It didn’t look very appetizing, but it smelled edible. Lara’s stomach growled. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she last ate. They’d been offered no sustenance except for a bit of water on the boat ride here.

“Well, fastest way would be to grab a pot of snow and melt it over the fire, now wouldn’t it?”

Lara realized the woman was insulting her intelligence, but she had no choice but to ask. “So where do I find a pot.”

The woman nodded towards a wall near one of the bunks.

“Thank you,” Lara said, “My name is Helga.” She hadn’t meant to say Helga. She’d meant to say Lara. She tried again. “Helga, my name is Helga.” Every time she tried to say Lara, Helga came out instead. “Helga. Helga. My name—”

“Your name is Helga, I understand.”

“No, my name is,” Lara gritted her teeth, concentrating very hard to say her real name, “Helga.”

The woman gave Lara a very strange look, which she definitely deserved. With a frustrated huff, Lara gave up on niceties and went to collect a pot from the wall. She hurried to the end of the long house, tripping over the ballooning legs of her pants. She pushed the heavy door open and stepped outside. At once, she realized she was missing something important. Shoes! She’d taken them off soon after climbing into Reece’s bed. It was freezing. She did a high-stepped march to a bank of snow next to the cleared walking path, scooped snow into the pot and high stepped it back into the building. It had been a long day. She knew she had lost her reasoning ability, but walking barefoot through the snow seemed a tad over the top. But not nearly as ridiculous as being unable to say your own name.

“Lara. Lara. Lara,” she repeated under her breath on her way back to the fire. People were staring at her as she passed. Not that she blamed them. She could do this. She could tell the cranky, tired lady her real name. She set the pot of snow next to the fire and stood up confidently. “Helga!” she announced loudly.

The woman shook her head.

“Damn it,” Lara cried. “I give up. I can’t say Lara no matter how hard I try.” She glanced up at the woman. “I said it.”

“You said what?” She was obviously getting annoyed.

“My name.”

“Helga?”

“No, my real name. It’s Helga.” Lara stomped her foot angrily. “Helga.” She huffed out an annoyed breath. Forget it! The snow was starting to melt. “Eirick…” She’d tried to say Reece, but Eirick came out instead. “Eirrrrrick…”

“What about Eirick?” the woman asked.

“Eirick told me to find appropriate clothing.”

“Ingrid,” the woman called to a young girl. “Bring this daft woman a dress to wear. She looks about Olga’s size.”

“Yes, mum!”

So she was labeled as daft? Well, she supposed it was fitting, the way she’d carried on about her name. What kind of lunatic tells someone her name twenty times? A few minutes later, the young girl brought Lara a woolen gown of deep blue.

“This will look very pretty with your blonde hair,” the girl said. She handed the gown to her and scampered away before Lara could thank her.

“Blonde hair?” Lara murmured, perplexed. She had brown hair, some reddish highlights, but in no way was she a blonde. She used the bottom of her linen shirt as a potholder as she picked up the pot of melted snow and glanced down at her reflection. Instead of her own familiar face, some beautiful blonde woman stared back at her. Lara screamed. She seemed to be doing that a lot today.

Chapter 4

Reece, aka Eirick, stormed out of his chambers, long sword in one hand, the look of a crazed warrior on his face.

“What happened? I heard a scream,” he said.

Lara looked up at him. Her eyes felt like they were about to pop out of her head. “It isn’t me.”

“It damn well was you,” cranky, tired lady said. “She’s the one screaming and carrying on like a crazy person. She might be easy on the eyes, son, but she’s about as smart as this spoon of mine.” She brandished the spoon at Reece. “I know I told you to bring back a wife, but I was hoping you’d be smart enough to go for more than looks, Eirick. Heavens, what kind of grandchildren can I expect out of this match.”

“Ah mother,” Reece said with a devilish grin. “She’ll settle down. I’m certain of it.”

He lowered his sword and approached Lara, wrapping an arm around her back.

“It isn’t me,” she said, shaking her head, still unable to comprehend what she’d seen in the water’s reflection. “It isn’t me.”

“Come,” he said gently.

Eirick’s mother was shaking her head sadly. “Fool men,” she said under her breath. “They’re all alike. Even my own son.”

Reece ushered Lara into his room and closed the door. He took the pot of water from her and set it on a table.

“What happened, Lara?”

“You mean Helga.”

“Helga?”

“Tell me, Reece. When you look at me, do you see a beautiful blonde Norsewoman, or do you see the real me?”

“I see the real you, of course. You see me, right? Not this Eirick dude?”

“I see you,” she said. “You should have warned me that everyone else was seeing someone else. I made a complete ass out of myself.”

Reece chuckled. “No, sweetheart, you made a complete ass out of Helga.”

That made her feel a little better. Just a tiny bit. She smiled, and then laughed.

“Well, Helga didn’t make a very good impression on her future mother-in-law.”

Reece chuckled. “There’s nothing unusual about that,” he said. “Do you mind if I wash up?”

Her eyes drifted over his hard muscled chest, sprinkled with dark chest hair. The tips of her breasts tautened, imagining those course hairs brushing against her sensitive nipples. She blinked hard and her attention shifted to the narrow, strip of hair that ran between his washboard abs and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. The ache centered between her thighs caught her off guard. Oh geez, she was picturing him above her again. Those narrow hips between her thighs. The secret in his pants thrusting deep into her body.

“Of course not,” she breathed, somehow working enough brain cells to remember his question. “If you smell half as bad as your bed, you could use a bath.”

“You want me.” He grinned at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned her back to him and examined the woolen gown she’d been given. It was quite simple—an A-line, floor length number with an empress waist, long-sleeves, and a straight-lined bodice.

“Don’t forget I know you, Lara. I know that look. And baby, let me assure you that it is so good between us. You don’t have to play coy with me.”

“Who’s playing? I don’t want you, okay?”

“I also know all your spots,” he added.

“I don’t have spots,” she said testily.

He chuckled again. “Oh Reece,” he gasped, mocking her higher pitched voice. “Oh, yes. Right there. Don’t stop. Oh, faster, Reece. Faster. Oh, yes, that’s the spot. Yes. Yes!”

“Stop that!” she demanded, turning her head to glare at him. “I know you’re making it up, because I never call out like that during sex.”

“You do when you’re with me.”

“Whatever!” She huffed and turned away again. He’s such a liar! She would never give herself over to passion so freely that she’d cry out like that. Her previous experiences with men had all been less than satisfying. If it weren’t for her trusty vibrator, she wouldn’t have known what an orgasm felt like.

Lara pulled the baggie shirt off over her head and hurriedly slid into her new dress. She kicked the hideous pants off and smoothed her hands over the gown. It was a little itchy, but beat that ugly outfit she’d been wearing by a mile. She heard some splashing as Reece busied himself with washing. Rather than stand there and torture herself with imaginings of his wet skin, she headed for the door.

“I think I should go help, um… your mother,” she said. “Try to repair some of the damage I’ve done to poor Helga’s reputation.”

She chanced a glance at him. A mistake. He raked his fingers through his damp hair, tucking the unruly strands behind his ears. His eyes, usually covered by one stray lock or another bore into her intensely, hitting her with the force of a battering ram. Her knees wobbled.

“You’re a knockout in that dress, Lara. I thank God those Vikings can’t see the real you. I’d have to bring Axe Junior to dinner to keep them at bay.”

She was pleased with his compliment, but refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he affected her. Good thing he wasn’t looking at her feet, or he would have seen her toes curl under.

“Axe Junior?” she questioned.

He pointed to the smaller of two axes hanging on the wall among a group of weapons, which included the long sword he’d brandished in the main hall. “Axe Junior. Axe Senior is too unwieldy to carry in polite company.” He pointed to the two handed axe below the small hand-axe.

“No problems there, then. I don’t think these Vikings do…” she finger quoted do “…polite.”

“You might be surprised. They’re rugged, but not barbaric.”

“I saw two of them having sex, right out there in the open.”

“Is that what has you so hot and bothered, sweetheart? Or was it because I made you wet by talking dirty to you.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Screw you, Jericho.”

“Whenever you’re ready, you know I am.” He winked at her.

She opened the door, refusing to look at him, least she get lost in his intense stare again. “You’re impossible.”

She left the room, slamming the door halfway through his laugh. Lara spotted cranky, tired mother-in-law-to-be still standing over the fire in the center of the room. She was ladling out stew to a line of women each holding one or more empty bowls. The long house was very full now. All of the bunks were occupied by two or more Vikings. Women were seated among the men. Wives, she presumed. The slave women would drop off filled bowls of stew to those in attendance and collect more bowls before getting back in line. Lara followed their example. She retrieved two bowls from a table near the exit door and moved to the end of the line. She recognized the woman in front of her as the one who had been next to her on the long boat. She had an ugly bruise on her right cheek and kept her eyes downcast. Lara reminded herself of Reece’s warning about changing the past, but that didn’t make it any easier to see this. Maybe Helga had somehow helped her people escape and that was the fate of these mistreated women. Lara wanted to believe that with all her heart.

The line moved quickly. When it was Lara’s turn, cranky, tired, mother-in-law-to-be paused. “I need a break,” she said, handing the spoon to Lara. “You take over.” She took the bowls out of Lara’s hands and stood waiting for Lara to serve the stew. Lara was very careful in ladling the stew into the bowls. She worked hard at ignoring her rumbling stomach. Even though this stew looked more like a pot of grease with some chunks of meat and what might be vegetables or roots or sticks thrown in, Lara was willing to forgo her rule about only eating things she could readily identify.

“What is your name?” Lara asked her.

The woman hesitated. “Thora.”

Lara nodded. Thora moved to the table at the head of the house, near the door to Eirick’s quarters. Lara continued to ladle stew into bowls until everyone was eating, including the slaves. Reece came into the room and rowdy chorus of cheers erupted from the congregated Viking warriors. Thora motioned her son over to her and pushed an extra bowl of stew in his direction. He signaled Lara to join them before sitting down. Lara retrieved a bowl, filled it with stew and sat next to Reece on the bench. His leg brushed against hers and rather than move away, he nudged her knee. When she looked up at him, he nodded at his empty goblet.

She bit her lip. Was he serious? She was starving. Thora was watching her, probably deciding how hard she’d beat her when she got the opportunity. Lara stifled a sigh and went to the bucket-like container of mead. She ladled mead into the goblet and filled a glass for herself while she was there.

She returned to the table and Reece took both glasses, handing one to Thora. “Don’t forget to get one for yourself.”

Thora seemed very pleased by this. The corner of Lara’s eye twitched. Reece’s eyes widened and he quickly turned his attention to his stew. So he was familiar with her pissed-off-beyond-belief look. She wondered if he knew what to expect when she got him alone again. She returned to the bucket and ended up ladling mead for five other people before she was finally able to return to her yet untouched meal.

“More bread,” Reece said as soon as she sat down.

“Get it yourself,” she growled.

He squeezed her knee under the table. “Never make me repeat myself, Helga,” he warned.

She wondered how many Norsewomen took Axe Junior to their husband’s skull in the middle of the night. “I apologize,” she gritted between clenched teeth. She got up again and went to a side table that held a pile of flat breads and a collection of soft cheeses. She took some cheese back with her too. She didn’t want to have to get up again.

She sat down and lifted her spoon, glancing at Reece who was grinning at her. He was enjoying every minute of this.

“Can I eat, now?” she asked.

“What’s stopping you?”

The corner of her eye twitched before she glanced down at her meal. A crust of grease was solidifying around the edge of the stew. Her stomach turned. Would she really be able to keep this fatty concoction down? Her arteries were clogging just looking at the stuff. She avoided the grease along the edge and took a bite of something beige. It wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated, but it was far from good. The meat was mealy, the vegetables either hard or mushy, the broth tasted like old lard. Reece tore his bread in half and handed a piece to her. He then surprised her by stroking her lower back soothingly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered into her ear. “Eirick is trying to stay on his mother’s good side, is all. So he can keep you. ”

His warm breath teased her ear, sending a thrill of excitement down the side of her neck. She bit into the bread. It was tough and chewy, but satisfying. She finished the bread before tackling the stew again. Concentrating on her meal, she ignored the warmth of Reece’s body beside her, the touch of his thigh against hers, the scent of his body, the husky timber of his voice as he answered his mother’s questions in monosyllables. This man had no effect on her. Nope. No effect. None. Nadda. So why, oh why, did she jump when his hand touched her back at the base of her spine? “Are you ready for bed?” he asked quietly.

Bed?

She swallowed hard, hoping it would make her tongue start working again. Before she could answer, one of the men shouted, “Eirick, tell us a story of your conquests.”

“I’ll have to pass this night, friends. I’m anxious to get to know this one,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He nuzzled Lara’s neck and covered her breast with his hand, kneading it gently with his palm.

She jerked away from him and lifted her hand to smack him. He caught her wrist and laughed. “You are going to be a delight to tame,” he growled, climbing from the bench and dragging Lara to her feet.

He buried his fingers in the mass of her hair and tugged her head back. Her eyes closed as he covered her mouth with his. She stiffened as a jolt of pure lust shot through her body. He kissed her deeply, suckling upper lip, nibbling on the lower, touching his tongue tentatively to hers. She was scarcely aware of the boisterous cheering going on around them. He kissed a trail towards her ear.

“You’re supposed to be fighting me, remember?” he whispered.

Her hand lifted suddenly as if controlled by a reflex and connected with his chin. Stunned, he staggered backwards. She bit her lip to bite back the apology on the tip of her tongue. His eyes narrowed dangerously. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder, heading for the door just to their left.

“Put me down!” she demanded, struggling against him.

“Don’t wait up,” he said to the people in the lodge.

“I said put me down!”

Reece carried her into his chambers and closed the door. He set her to her feet.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” she said at once.

He drew her against his chest. “Where were we?”

Chapter 5

Lara’s blue eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared up at him. The candlelight threw strange shadows across her face. Reece took her chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over her lower lip as he stared down at her. She relaxed against him and lust slammed into his gut, stealing his breath. Memories of her face when lost in the throes of passion flitted through his mind. Unruly curls sticking to the perspiration moistened skin of her face and neck, heavy-lidded eyes locked with his, mouth open as she breathed his name in ecstasy. And then the vision changed. Eyes open yet unfocused, pupils dilated, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth as she lie in a contorted position on the parking garage floor beside her car. Her skin ice-cold beneath his searching fingers. No pulse. No breath. No Lara.

No Lara.

A vice clenched Reece’s heart and he cradled the back of her head, tugging her against his chest as he fought tears. She was here. She was breathing. He could save her. He could. Carl didn’t know what he was talking about. It was possible. Reece would make it possible. He refused to live without her. She was everything to him. True, she didn’t know him, but as much as it broke his heart, there was nothing he could do about that besides get to know her again. Slowly. Though everything inside him wanted things to be as they had been immediately, he needed to take things more slowly.

“Reece?”

Her soft voice, muffled against his chest, spiraled feelings of tenderness through him. He bit his lip, holding in the words he longed to say. Don’t leave me again. I love you, Lara. I love you. He’d already said ‘I love you’ once. It was too soon for her to hear it again. He had to be patient. Take his time. Slow down.

“Yes?” His voice sounded thick with emotion, even to him. Damn.

“Where did you get that amulet?”

Surprised by her question, he chuckled. Apparently, she wasn’t as lost in romantic feelings as he was.

“I was on an expedition in Cairo.”

She pulled out of his grasp and stepped away. He fisted his hands to prevent himself from drawing her back against him. He wanted her, true, but more than the great sex they shared, he wanted her love. And if he pushed her, he might never attain it again. She wasn’t an easy woman.

“It was unearthed in a dig,” he said. “The two pieces were found together, but it was cracked down the middle. I bought it for a great price because it was broken.”

“So you have both pieces?”

Reece shook his head. “Carl has the other half. That’s how he keeps following me. His half of the amulet is drawn to mine. Apparently, he leaps a few moments after me, but there is some sort of delay seen on the other end. It usually takes him a few days to appear. I leapt more than seventy times before I returned to the modern era. What’s been a few hours for him, has been eight months for me. When I arrived in your time, I trekked halfway across the world to see you. I almost missed finding you again before Carl arrived.”

“Is this really a good idea, Reece? I mean if I am meant to die, then maybe—”

He stepped closer to her, gripping both of her arms in his hands. “Don’t say it, Lara. Don’t even think it. You are not meant to die. I won’t let it happen.”

He kissed her heatedly, the taste of her lips intoxicating. All too soon she pulled away. She held a hand up between them and refused to look at him. “Don’t.”

He bit his lip, but didn’t press the issue. He understood. She needed more time. He would give her time, but he would never give up on winning her again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You should try to get some sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I am. In so many ways.” She moved across the room, still not looking at him. “I can’t believe this is happening. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up in some psychiatric hospital. Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

“For me, it’s a dream come true.”

She picked up the discarded shirt she’d been wearing earlier. “Can I ask you a serious question, Reece?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Do you know where I can find a bathroom?”

He laughed.

She turned and glared at him. “I’m being serious.”

“I know. I just expected something a bit more important.”

“Trust me, Reece. This is very important.”

“I imagine it is. I’ll take you to the latrine, my saucy wench. And then I’ll take you to bed.”

Chapter 6

Lara blinked her eyes open. Light streamed in through the small round window above the bed. Her first vision of the morning was Reece’s face, leaning over her. She smiled and stretched languorously.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Watching you.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see what you look like when you aren’t bustin’ my balls.”

Her grin widened. “Hope you got your fill.”

“Not yet.”

He covered her eyes with one hand.

“Now what are you doing?” she asked.

“Shh. You’re still asleep. If you’re asleep, you won’t fight me when I do this.”

“Do what?”

She felt the tip of his nose brush against the side of her neck, followed by his tongue. He gently suckled the flesh just beneath her ear and she was frozen in place with pleasure. He nipped her earlobe and she tensed. His warm breath in her ear caused her to shudder. “Beautiful, Lara,” he whispered.

“Reece?”

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

“I don’t want you to.”

His breath caught. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.”

There was a knock at the door. “Eirick, you don’t mean to laze in your bed all day, do you?” Thora’s voice carried into the room.

Reece groaned.

“Yes,” he called. “That was my intention.”

“It’s time to go for your hunt,” his mother insisted. “We have no meat for supper.”

Reece removed his hand from Lara’s eyes. She blinked them open to look up at him.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” he called. His mother moved away from the door. “What a nag.”

Reece bent his head and brushed his lips against Lara’s. When he moved to draw away, she buried her fingers in his thick, silky hair and lifted her head to kiss him. A groan vibrated in the back of his throat as she suckled his lips eagerly. He drew her closer, his hard body pressing against her length. Future me is a lucky girl, she thought. She gasped when shifted on top of her and ground his hard cock into her mound.

Oh God, yes. Current me is even luckier.

Reece tore his mouth away and lifted up on his arms, gazing down at her with passion-glazed eyes. “You shouldn’t encourage me.”

With a wicked grin, she rocked her hips and he pulled a shuddering breath through his teeth.

“It’s been too long,” he said.

Balancing on one arm, he pushed the covers down to her waist and reached for the hem of her night shirt.

There was another knock at the door. More like a pounding. “Eirick!” a deep voice shouted. “There’s a storm brewing. We must go now.”

“It’s going to be a while longer,” Lara said.

“You mean you’re going to send me out in front of my men in this condition.” He ground into her again to make her very aware of her effects on him. She could feel that he wouldn’t be needing a sports car to compensate for anything.

“Don’t you have Vikings to lead, villages to pillage, small animals to kill for our lard stew?”

“I’d rather tame a saucy wench.”

“You’re going to need more than that to tame this saucy wench.”

He grinned, looking irresistibly cute with his hazel-green eyes sparking with mischief. “I can try though, right?”

“Maybe later.”

“A maybe is better than a no.” He kissed her gently and climbed from the bed. He turned his back to her, and what a gorgeous back it was, strong and smooth, with the cutest butt known to woman situated just beneath. He adjusted himself in his undershorts and reached for his pants. He slid them on and turned to face her. She couldn’t keep her eyes from shifting to the bulge in his pants. “Do you think anyone will notice?” He turned to the side with his hands on his hips. His rigid cock forced his underdrawers into an unmistakable tent that protruded from his open fly.

She shook her head, holding her breath. “I doubt it,” she gasped. She bit her lip to hold in a laugh and climbed out of the bed.

“You really should do something about this state you put me in, woman.”

“I’ll go get you some cold water. Just let me to get dressed.”

“Heartless, saucy wench. Getting me all excited and then refusing to follow through.” He tossed on his shirt and grabbed his boots before heading for the door. “I can’t take you dressing in front of me at the moment. If you need me, I’ll be in the latrine for a while. Be sure to knock before entering or you might catch me in a compromising position.”

She chuckled. “Don’t fall in.”

He left and Lara reached for the blue gown, smiling to herself. Reece Jericho was trouble, there was no mistaking that. That trouble was already neck high and still rising. She didn’t think it would be all that horrible to go completely under. She wouldn’t even struggle. Much. Resisting Reece’s allure was kind of like quicksand. The more she struggled the faster she sank.

Lara thought she might get some rest while the men were away on their hunt. Boy, was she wrong. Thora seemed to consider this day with Helga as a suitable-wife interview, and apparently suitable wives needed to know how to grind grain by hand, weave cloth, cure hides, and find firewood. They also needed to know how to gather eggs, milk goats, cook, clean and launder. By the time Reece entered the lodge near dark, Lara was exhausted. The only highlight of her day had been the realization that she was living through history. She was fascinated by the Viking culture, even though she’d done more manual labor in one day than she typically did in a month. Another thing she became thankful for were Helga’s obvious skills. If Lara completed the tasks without much thinking, Helga’s expertise just sort of took over and she was weaving cloth like a pro and milking the goat without getting the wind kicked out of her a second time.

Reece kissed Lara’s cheek and handed her a collection of dead hares tied together by their back feet. “You look tired,” he said quietly.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” she asked.

“Why, gut ‘em, skin ‘em, and cook ‘em. What else?”

Lara’s jaw set on a hard line. “No.” She’d worked her tail off today. And what had he been doing? Tracking down defenseless bunnies and skewering them with arrows.

“It’s expected of you,” he told her.

“I don’t care. I’m tired. Find someone else.”

“Don’t make this a fight, Lara,” he pleaded. “I’ll give you a nice massage later, when no one is looking.”

She snorted. “Like I’d want a massage from you.”

“Then you can give me a nice massage later. There are things in my pants that have been in need of your attention all day.”

The corner of her eye twitched. He grimaced, took her by the shoulders and turned her towards the exit of the long house. He directed her outside and when they reached the yard, he handed her a knife.

“See that this doesn’t end up stuck between my ribs,” he said.

“I can’t make any promises, darling.”

“Hurry up now. It’s almost dark. I wouldn’t want you to slice off your finger because you can’t see what you’re doing.”

“I have a mind to slice off certain male appendages at the moment. Since they are so in need of my attention and all.”

“Remind me never to piss you off, sweetheart,” he said.

“It’s too late for that, sweetheart.”

“I’ll keep the bench warm for you,” he said, and disappeared inside.

Apparently, gutting rabbits was not one of Helga’s better skills. She’d managed to do quite a hack job by the time she brought the meat into the long house. And gutting a rabbit was a lot different than throwing a store-bought, hunk of meat in the oven. She had a serious case of the dry heaves by the time she was finished. One at a time, Lara added the hare quarters to the dish iron heating over fire. The dish iron was like a flat frying pan, and fat spattered into the fire as she cooked. She burned her fingers more than once as she seared the meat and then added the pieces to the stew pot.

Reece was apparently several mugs into his mead already. He was celebrating with his men in fine style, encouraging them to tell stories of their exploits and cheering them on loudly. Thora refilled her son’s mug over and over again, until by the time Lara found the time to sit next to him, he was slurring his words. At least he could be classified as a happy drunk. Loud and happy. Lara wanted to shove a sock in his mouth. How dare he have such a good time while she was working her fingers to the bone?

“How was your day, beautiful?” he asked, his normally intense features slack.

“Don’t talk to me,” she demanded.

“Don’t be that way,” he slurred and hiccupped loudly. “I’m sure you did a great job in your duties.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer. “Tell me allllll about it.”

“If you don’t get your hands off me right now, you’ll regret it.”

“Ah, how’s that for dampening the fun. Have some mead.”

He pressed the cup to her lips and lifted it, spilling the honey wine down her chin and the front of her dress. She shoved him, and he toppled over backwards, off the bench and onto the floor. His cup of mead tumbled out of his hand, liquid sloshing across the floor. He made things worse by laughing.

“I take it you don’t want any mead,” he said between chuckles.

She stood up from the table and flounced towards Eirick’s quarters.

Everyone in the room was laughing, rather at her expense or Reece’s she couldn’t be sure.

“You better get that woman under control, Eirick,” one of the warriors called. “She’ll have you wearing a dress before you know it.”

“I’ve tried, Sven, there ain’t no taming that one,” Reece claimed, right before Lara slammed the door.

A few moments later, Reece entered the room. Lara was sitting on the bed, tugging a comb through her hair. Apparently, Vikings combed their hair often. Few of them had naturally curly hair though. These combs were more like a torture device.

Reece sat down next to her on the bed and gave her a pitiful puppy dog look. “Are you mad at me?”

“You’re drunk,” she told him unnecessarily.

“That I am. Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re mad at me.”

She breathed a frustrated sigh. “Typical male response.”

“Give me the comb, I’ll help you,” he offered, taking pity on her and her tangled curls.

“No thanks. Go drink some more with your buddies.”

“But I want to be with you, Lara. That’s why I came in here.”

“It doesn’t seem that way,” she said.

“I love you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Mouth puckered, he closed his eyes and leaned closer. And closer. And then fell over onto the bed with a loud snore.

“How very romantic,” she said to her unconscious bedmate. She sighed heavily and moved to remove his boots.

He grumbled a thank you when she rolled him into a more comfortable position on the bed and covered him with a quilt. She didn’t bother going to share the evening meal in the main hall. Instead, she blew out the candles and crawled into bed beside Reece. He spooned up against her immediately. She lay there tense for a moment and. When his only movement was to nuzzle her hair, she took his arm and wrapped it around her waist. She stared into the darkness for quite a while, thinking about her reaction to him. She hadn’t been mad about the rabbits or even his drinking, she decided. She had been mad because he hadn’t seemed to miss her half as much as she’d missed him.

She breathed a frustrated sigh. “Typical female response,” she murmured to herself just before she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 7

The next morning, Reece awoke to the uncomfortable effects of his alcohol overindulgence. He covered his eyes with his forearm and groaned. Lara sighed in her sleep and cuddled up against his side. His heart thudded as her small hand rubbed across his belly and then curled to clutch the fabric of his shirt.

“Reece,” she whispered.

Was she calling his name in her sleep? Dreaming about him? This was a good sign. He grinned and covered her hand with his. He had to be careful not to pressure her. He had learned the hard way not to tell an independent-minded woman what to do, not to even give her the impression that he was attempting to gain her cooperation. It had to be her idea for them to be together, not his. But he couldn’t help wanting her. Just when they’d forged their future together, she had been taken from him. And now he had her back. A year younger and a having no memory of him because as far as she knew, they’d never even met. That year of them falling in love would never exist for her. But he’d get to live it twice. Reece smiled to himself and then grimaced as some invisible blacksmith used his head to pound horseshoes flat.

He and Lara probably had one more day here before they leaped again. He never knew exactly when Carl would show up. Somewhere between 60 and 84 hours after arrival. Reece needed to stay close to Lara today in preparation. He was pretty sure they had to be touching to leap together and there was no way he was leaving her here with an uncouth Viking.

A loud rattle at the window, which was made of a semi-transparent, stretched animal hide, drew Reece’s attention. It looked rather gray and foreboding outside. The wind blew against the window in abandon. A storm had hit sometime in the night. And it was a perfect excuse to waste the day in bed with Lara at his side.

She stirred, stretching languorously.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured.

She started, glanced around nervously and then lifted her head to look at him. “I thought this was all a bad dream.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t say I’m disappointed, just very overworked. I feel like I ran a marathon yesterday.”

“If we’re quiet, we can lay here all day and listen to the storm outside.”

“As if Thora, a.k.a. Slavedriver, will allow that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“The whole house is quiet. I think everyone has the same idea,” he whispered.

Lara settled back beside him, gazing up at the ceiling. “What do we do with ourselves if we aren’t working our fingers to the bone?”

“We could get drunk. Tell stories. Make love.”

“All good for passing time.”

He rolled on his side and lifted onto one elbow, gazing down into her blue eyes. He winced at the jolt of pain that pulsated through his head.

“Hungover?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Stay here. I’ll bring you some breakfast.”

She smiled. “That’s sweet of you.”

He rolled over her, and off the bed on the other side. “You know, I don’t even remember going to bed last night,” he said.

“You probably don’t remember what you said to me before you passed out then.”

He winced. Oh no, please, not that. Too soon for her to hear those words again. Please, not I love you. Anything but that. It will send her running in the opposite direction. Eyes closed, he asked, “What did I say?”

“You promised you’d milk the goat today.”

He chuckled. “I did? Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like something I’d promise.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“If you say so, but you’ll have to show me how.”

“The trick is to make sure your hands are warm before you grab the teats.”

He laughed. “I can see why cold hands might be a problem.”

“For their size, goats really pack a wallop.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He crossed the room to the door and looked back at her before entering the main room of the longhouse. It was apparent why everyone was quiet. They were all nursing hangovers, and the storm that raged outside was of blizzard proportion, so there wouldn’t be much work getting done this morning. After a quick trip to the latrine, Reece grabbed a plate of cheese, bread, and smoked venison sausage, and a jug of water before he returned to the room. Lara was sitting on the edge of the bed, drawing a comb through her tangled curls.

He had a stirring of familiarity, as if he’d seen this before. Last night, perhaps? He wondered how much a fool he had proved himself to be while in his stupor. She was acting normally though. Surely, he hadn’t behaved too improperly.

He sat down next to her and cut a piece of cheese from the small block. She reached for the serving, but he hid it behind his back.

“Open,” he prompted.

“I can feed myself, Jericho.”

“A bit testy this morning?”

“I don’t do helpless female.”

He was well aware of this. “I was in no way implying that you were helpless or female. Though, you would have a difficult time hiding that you’re female.”

“Are you always this irritating?”

“You do bring out the best in me, sweetheart.”

He set the piece of cheese on the edge of the plate. She grabbed it and popped it in her mouth.

“You could feed me,” he offered. He cut off a slice of venison sausage. She snitched it from the plate and crammed it in her mouth as well. Something was obviously bothering her. “So what did I say or do last night that has you so up at arms?”

“Nothing.”

“Did I make a pass at you?”

“You tried, but you passed out.”

He drew a pained breath through his teeth. “I’m sure that was impressive to see. Did I tell you that I love you again?”

He met her eyes and didn’t need to hear her answer to know that he had. “Well…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure that was the last thing in the world you wanted to hear.”

She bit her lip. “Not the very last thing,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to hear that this cheese is made from goat’s milk, for example. I’ve seen what that comes out of.”

He tried to smile at her joke, but failed. He’d give anything to hear her say she loved him.

Lara touched his face and he looked at her. Her expression was serious when she said, “Hearing those words from you wasn’t horrible.”

He leaned closer. She didn’t draw away. Instead, she closed her eyes. He closed his eyes, too, just before his lips brushed hers. Her kiss tasted of heaven and smoked venison. He concentrated on not taking the upper hand. He allowed her to kiss him, his hands clenching into fists rather than doing what they wanted to do—draw her closer, stroke her skin. She pulled away after a moment and leaned back to look at him.

“What I wouldn’t give for a toothbrush right about now,” she said.

Reece lifted his hand and huffed a breath into his palm, before giving it a hesitant sniff. “Do I offend?”

“I didn’t say that. You know, the things I miss most are all found in a bathroom.”

“I think they use teeth scraper things to clean their teeth. I’ll find you one after we eat.”

“How long will we be on the run?” She asked, looking weary.

“I don’t know. Until we come up with a better plan. If we could get the other half of the amulet, Carl couldn’t follow us anymore. We might also have control over our leaping. If you can decipher the hieroglyphics on the other half, that is.”

“I have some knowledge of Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, but I’d need access to my reference books to translate something complex.”

“You were the one who deciphered the symbols on this half,” he told her and lifted the amulet to look at the tiny symbols. The amulet was the reason Lara had been killed. He wished now that he’d never unearthed it. Wished he’d never involved Lara. But you can’t change the past. He was hoping it was possible to change her future, by living in the past.

Lara touched the flat stone, tracing the markings with her fingers. “Some of them are rather faded. I’m surprised I translated them correctly.”

“You’re brilliant,” he said, his eyes shifting to her face. She took his breath away. Always had, and undoubtedly always would. “And beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’ve got a pretty-boy, tough-guy thing going on. How do you pull that off?”

“Lots of practice.”

“I see. And least you forget, I’m starving. Cut some more cheese.”

“Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t want me to cut the cheese.”

She groaned. “When will you get better jokes?”

“What do you mean? That was a good one.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Juvenile and corny,” she assured him.

“I suppose you could do better.”

“Not on an empty stomach.”

He cut the cheese into several bite-sized chunks, then carved up the sausage as well. He tore the bread in half and then sat lotus style on the bed with the plate between them. They ate in silence for several moments.

“So we just need to get the other half of the amulet and we can stop running? We can go home?”

“I don’t think we can ever go back to our own time,” he told her. “Despite what the newspaper says, your death wasn’t a random murder. Someone is after you.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Sort of,” he admitted. He didn’t want to say too much. “The wrong people found out about the power of the amulet.”

“Like who?”

He probably shouldn’t lie to her, but the truth was too terrifying to share. “Some religious fanatics. They want the amulet to shift the flow of power in the world. We vowed to keep it away from them. Imagine the amount of damage those kind of people could do with this artifact.”

“So why did they kill me?”

He shrugged. “I wish I knew. Probably to get to me. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. I just wanted to go back in time, find you, and make you safe. Carl wanted to find me and keep me from changing your future. He’s convinced it will lead to the end of the world.”

“Is Carl one of the fanatics?”

Reece shook his head. “They don’t even know about Carl, or the other half of the amulet. Carl is my partner. He and I discovered the amulet together. We each took a half and you deciphered the hieroglyphics on my half. You said something about the other half being a control element.”

“How did I know that?”

“I’m not sure. You read something about the amulet in an ancient script, I think. You warned me not to use it, even though we knew how. You said the Egyptians were afraid of it. Said it was cursed.”

“Egyptians thought a lot of things were cursed. And why did you use it, when I told you not to?”

“To find you.”

“Did I ask you to?”

Reece stared at her, his heart lodged in his throat. She simply didn’t get it. He wondered if she would ever love him like she once did. Circumstances were different this time. Maybe she wouldn’t fall in love with him at all. He didn’t know what had caused her to start looking at him differently in their previous relationship. She’d thought of him as an amusing guy, never to be taken seriously, then one day it was as if she’d seen him in a totally different light and she’d allowed him to get close. It had been the greatest gift he’d ever received. She loved fiercely, deeply, unconditionally. But getting her to initially open up to him had been next to impossible. I have to be patient. She’ll fall in love with me again. Just keep it together, Reece.

“No, you didn’t ask, but I had to save you, Lara. It’s the only thing I could think to do in that situation.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to be saved.”

“Maybe I didn’t care what you wanted,” he countered. “Maybe I really saved you for me.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Maybe I should thank you for saving me,” she snapped.

“Maybe you should. I risked a lot to save you, you know,” his voice raised in anger. “I gave up my entire life for you.”

She touched his cheek and his temper was instantly placated. “Thank you,” she said. “I owe you one.”

“You would have done the same for me,” he said. “I know you would have.”

She smiled. “I must have thought you were something pretty special, then.”

She leaned towards him and kissed him. She pulled away and gazed up at him shyly. For an instant, Reece saw her as Eirick saw her. As Helga. Reece felt what Eirick felt. Unbridled lust. He toppled her onto the bed, pushed her skirt up and pulled her underdrawers from her body with a vicious yank. Eirick struggled with the fly of his pants, holding Helga to the bed with his weight while he unleashed his cock.

“No,” Helga cried. Reece couldn’t sense Lara anymore at all. This had happened before. When a situation got particularly tense, he lost his battle with his vessel’s consciousness and was taken along for the ride. Reece couldn’t stomach the thought of being witness to a rape, however. He struggled to regain the upper hand over Eirick’s lust and actions.

Helga’s image faded and Lara was suddenly gazing up at him with a horrified expression. “She’s a virgin, Reece, and she’s terrified. Don’t let him hurt her like this.”

“I’m trying, Lara. But this event is important. It has to happen. There are things we cannot change.”

“What do you mean?”

“If something has to happen in the past, it has to happen. We can’t stop it. There is something necessary about this moment. A reason they have to consummate this relationship.”

“They have to have sex or he has to rape her?”

“How should I know? All I know is that when events shape the future, I can’t change them. I’ve never been able to. I’ve tried more than once. I thought I could stop Lincoln’s assassination, but no, I just had to sit there and watch.”

“I feel it too, Reece. That this is important. Maybe she gets pregnant or something and the child can only be conceived on this morning. Just don’t let him rape her. Please.”

“I don’t know how to stop this.”

“We won’t stop it. Just make it easier. Reece, make love to me.”

As soon as she said it, Eirick’s pull over Reece’s actions lessened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Reece regained total control. So they just needed to have sex. He didn’t have to rape her. Thank God.

And then it hit him. He was going to make love to Lara. This was his chance to show her how well they fit together. How they were made for each other. How great their sex life was. Or had been.

Reece buried his fingers in her thick curls and tilted her head back so he could trail kisses down her throat. He found the spot beneath her ear that always turned her to willing mush in his arms. As he suckled spot number one, she groaned, her back arching to press her breasts into his chest. His only regret was that they weren’t yet naked.

“Reece,” she whispered. “Reece. I want you.”

Not quite I love you, but it was a start. He struggled to remove her tangled night shirt and his own sleeping attire to leave them both naked. He kissed a trail down her chest and drew her nipple into his mouth. He sucked spot number two hard and then soothed it with the flat of his tongue before sucking hard again.

“Oh,” she gasped, clinging to his hair with both hands. “That feels so good.”

And his cock was so hard. He wasn’t sure how long he could put off thrusting into her. He shifted his mouth to her other breast, sucking hard, soothing with his tongue, sucking hard again. He moved his trembling hand between her thighs and sought spot number fifteen buried within a nest of curls. He was too impatient for spots three through fourteen this time. He just needed to be inside her. He’d like to blame the Viking for his lustful urges, but it was all him. He’d missed everything about Lara these past eight months, including her body.

The dampness between her thighs hinted her readiness, but he wanted her first time with him to be special, even if it wasn’t his first time with her. He massaged her swollen clit with two fingers. Her body tensed and it took several moments for her to relax again. He remembered their original first time being much the same. It had taken Lara time to get over her reservations, but boy, when she had.

He shifted his mouth to her other breast again and increased the pressure on her clit with his fingers. He rubbed faster. Harder. More gently. Harder again.

“Reece?” she gasped.

He slid his fingers inside her slick pussy and then shifted them back to her clit.

“Oh!” She tensed again, trying to regain her senses instead of giving herself over to them.

This was going to take some work, he realized. He kissed a trail down her belly, pausing to nibble on spot number eleven along the crest of her left hip. His fingers never stopped rubbing at her clit as he kissed lower. Lower.

“Reece? Reece!”

He wouldn’t tell her to let go. Wouldn’t tell her to just relax. Or let it happen. She would fight climax even more then. He knew how she reacted when he tried to tell her what to do. While he liked to think they had all day together, his cock was complaining by throbbing incessantly. He had to make her come. Quickly.

Reece slid his fingers back inside her and pressed his tongue against her clit, writhing it in repetitive circles until she grabbed his hair in both hands and her back arched. He slowly thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy, sucking and licking at her clit until she cried out. “Reece, Reece. I’m going to come,” she sputtered as if surprised by this realization.

Yeah, baby. That’s the idea.

“Wait. Don’t. Stop. I’m going to...”

Her pussy clenched around his fingers and her hips buckled. She cried out, bucking against his hand to draw his fingers in and out of her body. He flicked his tongue over her clit to keep her writhing in ecstasy for as long as possible. When her body went limp, he kissed his way up her belly. Reece removed his fingers from her hot sheath and settled on his side beside her, propping himself on one elbow to watch her face as his fingers found her clit again.

She twitched in involuntary spasms as he continued to tease her most sensitive spot.

“That feels wonderful,” she whispered and opened unfocused eyes to try to look at him.

He smiled gently and kissed her lips. Her fingers gently rubbed over his chest, exploring its hard contours shyly. She found a ticklish spot on his rib cage and he squirmed.

“Doesn’t seem quite fair,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“You know what I like, but I have no idea how to please you.”

“You don’t think I’m going to tell you all my secrets, do you?”

“I think it will be more fun to discover them for myself.”

Her hand moved lower, bumping over the muscles of his abdomen. When her palm rubbed the sensitive skin between his hipbone and straining cock, he sucked an excited breath between his teeth.

“Found one,” she whispered.

Her hand moved closer to his cock. It twitch. Lord, he was so turned on, he wasn’t sure how much of her curious exploration he could take. Her fingers brushed his sac and his belly tightened. She cradled his nuts gently in one hand and he gasped.

“Another one.”

He stopped stroking her clit long enough to position her hand on his cock and then returned to giving her pleasure. She trailed her fingertips up his length and he squeezed his eyes shut. When she reached the rim of his cock head, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and massaged the head with her thumb, spreading the slick bead of pre-cum over his flesh.

“Lara.”

Her hand began to move, stroking his length slowly. If it hadn’t been eight months since he last had sex, he’d have found the motion pleasurable. As it was, he would reach climax much too soon if she kept that up. Her hand stopped and she squeezed him a bit too hard for his liking.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he breathed.

“Reece, I want you. Now.” She tugged at his cock and spread her legs wider.

She wanted him? Inside her? He figured it would take hours before she was ready to accept him into her body. The first time they’d made love— He’d almost died from lack of fulfillment.

“Reece, Reece. Now, before I come again.”

He was still rubbing her clit. She moved with his hand, close to tumbling over the edge again.

He rolled on top of her and settled between her thighs. He looked down at Lara’s beautiful face and for a moment he saw Helga, blonde hair sticking to her flushed cheeks, skin slick with sweat. She gazed up at him, her blue eyes passion-glazed and trusting.

“It will be over quickly, dear one,” Eirick said, kissing Helga’s trembling lips.

Reece wondered if Lara would feel the pain of Helga losing her virginity. This was a much better way for Helga to lose it than Eirick losing his temper and forcing himself on the little Norsewoman, but still, it would not be pleasant.

“Reece, Reece, hurry,” Lara demanded.

“Shhh, sweetheart, I’m going to take it slow at first.”

“I want it hard, Reece. Hard and fast.”

Yeah, him too, actually, but he was controlling a body not his own, in a time not his own, under circumstances he was not meant to participate in. Reece reached between their bodies and grabbed his cock, seeking her opening. When he found her, he eased forward an inch, allowing her to become accustomed to his size. Helga’s body resisted Eirick’s, but Lara’s engulfed Reece’s cock head in slick, molten pleasure. It took every shred of Reece’s willpower not to thrust into her like a man possessed. The barrier to Eirick’s penetration gave way and Helga cried out in pain. He sank an inch deeper.

“You’re being careful and slow for them,” Lara said, staring up into Reece’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I knew it would hurt her, and—”

His words were silenced by Lara’s passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, relaxing, opening herself to him, and he slid deeper. She was thinking of Helga’s comfort, too. Reece sank deeper. Deeper, until at last, Lara had accepted all of him. He tugged his mouth from hers and buried his face against her throat, trying to maintain a smidgen of control when every nerve ending in his body demanded he thrust into her as hard and as fast as he could.

For a long moment, he just inhaled and exhaled, his belly trembling, his balls tight and heavy. Every muscle in his body taut, Reece began to move within her, gyrating his hips to open her to his possession. She moved with him, grinding against his pubis, sighing with delight as he added gentle thrusting to his gyrations. Reece forced himself to think about her pleasure and drew gentle hands over her skin, pressed butterfly kisses to her jaw, throat and lips. Lara clung to his shoulders, her head tilted back in surrender, and it was all he could do not to repeatedly tell her how much he loved her. As their excitement built, they moved together and apart faster. The urgency in his groin had gotten the better of him. All he could think about was finding merciful release and pumping his cum deep inside her body. Lara cried out, her back arching in delight, her pussy clenching around his cock in hard spasms. It sent him flying over the edge into a realm of pure bliss. He erupted inside her, pleasurable spasms gripping the base of his cock, offering him release. He couldn’t help calling her name in the throes of ecstasy. She called his name in return as they shuddered against each other.

Their bodies went limp and though Reece knew he was probably crushing her, he couldn’t have moved even if he wanted to, and frankly, he didn’t. She trailed one hand up and down his back, drawing goose-bumps to the surface of his skin. He delighted in the feel of her beneath him—soft breasts pressed into his chest, smooth legs tangled with his, warm pussy gripping his softening cock. This is where he belonged. The time didn’t matter. The place didn’t matter. Only the woman mattered.

“That was amazing,” she whispered.

He smiled against her shoulder and lifted his head so he could stare into her eyes.

“I’ve never had an orgasm with a man inside me before,” she whispered. Her face flamed as she looked up at him in wonder.

“Oh, did you have an orgasm?” he teased. “I wasn’t sure.”

She chuckled. “I thought it was fairly obvious. What with the moaning and uncontrollable convulsions.”

“You could have been faking.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “Actually, I was totally faking, Reece. I think you need to start over and try again. Get it right this time.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah, I am a little out of practice. We should probably try that again. It’s not in me to leave you unsatisfied.”

“I’m guessing future me really liked that about you,” she said.

“Couldn’t get enough.”

“I’m starting to believe that.”

Lara’s beautiful, smiling face melted into Helga’s bewildered expression. “Eirick?”

Eirick took Helga’s hand and kissed her wrist. “Yes, dear one?”

“I enjoyed that rather a lot,” she said. “I thank you for not hurting me.”

“I did hurt you,” he said, and kissed her cheeks, then her nose, “but never will again.”

“That was a necessary pain. It was over quickly. And then I felt such pleasure. Oh Eirick, it was wonderful.”

Eirick stared down at his captive bride, somewhat perplexed. He’d never given a woman pleasure like that before. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d come up with those motions in his hips or how he’d known to rub and suckle that little bump between a Helga’s legs to delight her. Making love to Helga brought him much more satisfaction than his usual thrust, come, roll over and fall asleep routine.

“I think... I think that I love you, Helga. My wife.”

She smiled and stroked his cheek lovingly. “And I you, Eirick.”

“We will have many strong sons and beautiful daughters.”

“That means more pleasure, doesn’t it? Should we start now?”

“Yes. Children should appease my mother. You will quickly win her favor as you have won mine.”

Lara’s face drifted back into focus. She smiled at Reece. “I think we helped them a little,” she said.

Reece chuckled. “Eirick is wondering how he came up with such smooth moves in the bedroom. Maybe we should show him a few more tricks, so he can keep his woman happy for years to come.”

Lara grinned. “I’m game if you are.”

A vibration hummed against Reece’s chest. “Shit, could his timing be any worse?” He pulled the amulet from between their bodies and felt the physical tug he always felt when Carl’s half of the amulet was near. “Almost time to go,” he said to Lara.

Lara reached for her clothes and Reece chuckled at her. “You don’t take those with you anyway.”

Lara flushed. “I arrived naked the last time. I was hoping to avoid that this time.”

“I prefer you this way.” He kissed her chin. “Naked looks good on you.” The amulet hummed louder. Reece stared into Lara’s eyes as he waited for the right moment to begin to recite the words that would send them to another time. He wrapped her hands around the stone half-circle and covered her hands with his. Outside the room, there was a crackle. Reece began to recite the inscription. The bedroom door burst open. A Viking/Carl appeared in the doorframe. Reece didn’t need to look at Carl to know it was him. He knew he would be there. He always was.

“Damn it, Reece,” Carl bellowed. “I just want to talk to you. Don’t leap again.”

“Maybe we should hear what he has to say,” Lara said, turning to look at the man stalking across the room.

There was another loud crack, and Reece and Lara floated sideways through time. Lara squeezed her eyes shut, emitting a little squeak of terror. Reece was used to this by now. It was still amazing to watch the scenes of time blend together and rush past at a dizzying rate. And then they touched down.

Instead of lying in bed between Lara’s silky thighs, Reece found himself mounted on an enormous horse. He was fully bedecked in heavy armor, his view limited by the visor of his helmet. Reece held a sword in his right hand. His other hand controlled the reins of his steed. The person in front of him clung to his forearm for dear life. He couldn’t see her, but knew it was Lara seated before him on the horse. She was trembling so hard she was making his armor rattle, but she seemed unharmed. Before Reece could even orient himself to his surroundings, a large black object came at him, aimed directly for his head. He deflected it with his sword, his shoulder screaming in protest as the heavy mace ricocheted off his weapon.

Reece spun his horse around and found that it wasn’t just one menacing soldier trying to kill him, but a whole calvary of them.

“I think this is our cue to make a run for it, sweetheart,” he called to Lara.

Reece spun his horse around again and kicked the animal into a canter. Something hit him in the side with enough force to knock him to the ground. He hadn’t seen what had happened, but he was on flat on his back and Lara was being carried off by one of Reece’s foes. Naked, Lara kicked her captor, screaming at the top of her lungs, but to no avail. Apparently, they were after the girl, but that didn’t mean they planned to leave Reece alone now that they had their prize.

Reece rolled to his feet, cursing his armor for slowing him, but blessing it for taking the brunt of that mace and his jarring tumble from his horse.

“Are you going to stand there gawking, Ferguson, or are you going to fight with honor?” one of the remaining soldiers asked him.

“Do I really have a choice?” Reece asked, lifting his sword. Reece had to fight and he had to win. Some crazy medieval knight had kidnapped Lara and Reece had no intention of letting her go. Ever.

Chapter 8

With both fists, Lara pummeled the wanna-be tin can who had yanked her off Reece’s horse and deposited her on his. When hitting him proved fruitless, she tried kicking him with both feet. Lara didn’t consider how she would respond if he actually let her go. The ground raced beneath them at a dizzying speed. If she fell, she probably wouldn’t survive. Especially since she was freakin’ naked. Again.

“Lady Eleanor,” her abductor’s voice reverberated from his helmet. “‘Tis I, Lord Abbot. Please, my lady, calm yourself. Your safety is now assured.”

“Put me down!” she demanded. At least they were all speaking English this time. Not American English. British English.

“Hush, my lady. Are you not chilled? Whatever happened to your gown? Did that blackguard dishonor you? I shall run him through with my sword and eat his kidneys in a pie.”

She had no idea what her relationship with Reece was. Lara had assumed that Reece would be her ally no matter where time took them, but perhaps they just leapt into a couple consisting of a naked woman and a man holding her. Maybe Reece was her enemy here. The very idea made her queasy. Or maybe it was the motion of the horse. Lara stopped pounding on unyielding metal long enough to say, “I am rather cold,” before she began pounding on Lord Abbot’s armor again. It made horrendous clanking sounds as she bashed at it until her hands were numb. They’d galloped quite a distance from where she had last seen Reece. The man holding her captive, or rescuing her—she couldn’t tell which—eventually drew his massive horse to a stop. He turned on his horse and pulled something from behind the saddle. It turned out to be a scratchy, yet warm, blanket. He wrapped Lara in the blanket and settled her more comfortably on the saddle in front of him.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

“I’m taking you home, obviously. Did you get hit over the head?” The man removed one chain mail glove and ran his hand over her skull, checking for obvious lumps. She drew in a pained breath when he found one. “You’ve a nasty bump, my lady. Let’s make haste to the castle and get you some lanolin for the pain.”

“You’re the one who put that lump on my head when you yanked me off the other horse,” she spat. “I hit my head on your damned elbow.”

She looked up at him, not liking him one bit and not sure why. Maybe this knight was her savior, but she didn’t feel like he was. And she was worried about Reece. Fighting eight other soldiers alone were not good odds. Also, Reece had the amulet. If something happened to him, would she end up stuck here forever without him? No, Carl would eventually find her and make sure she returned to her own time to die. If Reece died here, was he really dead? Or would he just return to their time unharmed? She didn’t know the answer to that question. Frankly, did not want to entertain the thought. The thought of Reece dying made her heart race and her eyes burn.

“We can’t let him die,” she said, looking up at the helmeted man. She could see his eyes sparkling from within the helmet, but could not tell what color they were.

“Who?” Abbot’s voice echoed around in his helmet. He effortlessly guided his horse forward at a sedate walk. The other soldiers, Lara counted five of them, were hanging back a little, either embarrassed to see a high-class lady in nothing but a blanket or their ranks required it of them.

She tried to say Reece, knowing the true name of the knight would tumble from her lips instead, “Sir Ferguson.”

“I’m sure he’s already dead.”

A chill settled in Lara’s chest and it had nothing to do with the cool temperatures. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “He should not die for my sake.”

“You should feel no responsibility for his death. He is both a cad and a coward.”

Lara’s distress level grew incrementally by the second and she began to think she wasn’t the only one worried for his safety. This lady she shared a body with was highly distressed. And she didn’t like this tin can on a horse either. “We must go back for him.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Do you dare call yourself a chivalrous man and yet refuse a lady’s simple request? And what did Sir Ferguson do that was so terrible?”

There was a scrape of metal as the knight shifted his head to look down at her. “You really have experienced massive trauma to your wits, milady.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, but I do believe you have just insulted me.”

“I would never insult a lady,” he claimed. She wasn’t sure if he was being sincere or sarcastic. Perhaps he was insinuating that she was not a lady.

“Then go back for him. Now!”

“I refuse,” he said, and kicked his horse into a gallop.

Lara leaned around the metal-plated arm of the knight and gazed behind them, hoping to see Reece dashing after them on a mighty steed. No such luck. Only the five depressed looking soldiers followed them. But what of the ones who had stayed behind to finish Reece off? Shouldn’t they have caught up with the group by now? Perhaps Reece was okay.

“But he has a piece of my jewelry,” Lara said, trying to reason with her captor/rescuer again. Or lie to him. Whatever worked. “One of your men might take it for himself and I’d be greatly embittered by its loss.”

“We are not going back after Reginald Ferguson, Eleanor. I’m not sure why you’d want to, seeing as he left your poor sister at the altar and kidnapped you in her place.”

Why would a man kidnap his betrothed’s sister? Lara tried to put together a feasible explanation. She came up lacking.

“Why would he do that?” she asked.

Lord Abbot laughed. “Because no matter how much he wants you, he cannot have you, my darling. He is beneath you and you... you belong to me.”

A feeling of revulsion settled in the pit of her stomach and she could only conclude that Lady Eleanor had no romantic inclinations toward Lord Abbot. He made her want to hurl. “I most certainly do not belong to you,” she said emphatically, and again it was Eleanor’s strong feelings making themselves known. So it wasn’t only Lara’s concern for Reece, but also Eleanor’s concern for Reginald that had her so anxious. Eleanor’s desire to get away from Lord Abbot overwhelmed Lara with panic. “Set me down this instant,” she demanded. “I will walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Set me down. Now!” She moved to dismount from the moving horse, but Lord Abbot’s steel-encased arm stopped her progress.

“Woman, you are daft,” he said. “Do you wish to fall to your death?”

He drew the horse to a halt. Abbot dismounted, pulled her from the saddle, and set her on the ground. She tugged the blanket closer, her flesh crawling beneath Abbot’s heavy gaze.

“You are more trouble than you will ever be worth,” he said. “If it weren’t for your dowry, I’d have refused your father’s offer. Ferguson is foolish for spurning your mild-mannered sister. You might be more beautiful than she, but she would make a dutiful wife.”

“Then have her,” Lara said. “I won’t stop you.” She glanced around as inconspicuously as she could. How could she hope to get away from a knight and five armed soldiers? She had to think and use what she had. What did she have? A blanket. And…a blanket. She had nothing of use. And then a thought occurred to her. In one fluid motion, she stripped the blanket from her body and tossed it over Sir Abbot’s head. While he struggled to remove the blanket from his head, Lara grabbed the edge of the saddle, put her foot in a stirrup and boosted herself onto the back of Abbot’s enormous warhorse. She bounced up and down in the saddle, kicked the horse in flank, yanked on its reins, but the animal refused to budge. In fact, it merely blew an annoyed breath and shifted on its hooves.

“Move, you stupid horse!”

“My horse obeys only my commands. I tire of your little tantrums, Lady Eleanor.” His gaze raked over her naked body. “I will never tire of your beauty, though.”

She was no match for his strength as he pulled her from the horse.

“Men,” he called. “Ride ahead. We’ll catch up.”

A feeling of dread flood Lara’s entire body. “Wait!” she called to the retreating soldiers, but they galloped off into the distance, leaving her naked and alone with the man who was apparently to be Eleanor’s husband.

Abbot removed his helmet and she caught her first glimpse of his face. He was average in looks, his skin a bit pot marked. His only distinguishing feature was his eyes, which were nearly black and filled with malice. A shiver ran down her spine. He removed his remaining glove, his expression never changing as he glared at her. “You know better than to test me beyond my limits, Eleanor. You know I must punish you for it.”

When he began to remove his leg armor, panic suffused her. Not again!

She was running before she could formulate a plan, her only thought was to escape him. Before she got far, something careened into her back with the force of a battering ram and she fell forward, not even having time to catch herself before the ground came up to meet her face. Stunned, she was rolled onto her back, and staring into Lord Abbot’s livid face.

“Why do you run?” he asked. He removed his pants, exposing how truly aroused exerting his will over a helpless gentlewoman made him. He straddled her hips to prevent her from fleeing as he continued to remove pieces of armor from his chest and arms. “You know I will have my way in the end. I am bigger than you. And stronger. Scream and cry all you like. No one will hear you. No one will care.”

“Please,” she begged. She struggled, kicking at him and hitting him with her fists. He outweighed her by at least double. He caught her wrists in his hands and pinned them down on either side of her head.

“Don’t struggle, Eleanor. I can be gentle. If you stop fighting me, I will try not to hurt you.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head back and forth vigorously. “Never! You will never have me willingly.”

Her heart was pounding so hard the entire ground seemed to be shaking. Wait. The entire ground was shaking. An earthquake? Four hooves raced by, knocking Sir Abbot sideways from her body. He landed next to her with a thud, a huge gash on his temple. She didn’t know if he was dead or merely unconscious. She didn’t have time to check. The horse had drawn to a sudden halt and a pair of armor-covered feet hit the ground. Before she could react, she was drawn against the cold, hard chest of the armored man who had bashed Abbot in the head.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning away and stroking the hair from her face.

“Reece?”

“Did he hurt you?” he asked.

“Well, he didn’t do me any good,” she said. “How did you get away from those soldiers?”

“Apparently I’m an accomplished swordsman. Easy pickin’s.” He glanced over his shoulder, his expression concealed by his helmet. “Even so, I think we need to get out of here.”

Lara laughed with no mirth. “What gave you that idea?”

“Here,” he said. “There’s a bundle of clothes in here.” He pulled some cloth out of a saddlebag. “Get dressed.”

“While I was about to be raped by Lord Asshat, you were searching through saddle bags?”

“I was looking for my mace.” He held up a long black club with a spiked head on one end. “Found it.”

Lara began to sort through the clothes Reece had provided. “These look like peasant garb,” she said. “Just how many women do you have?”

“I think this Reg guy kinda likes you the best, Lady Eleanor. Apparently, I left your sister at the altar.”

“I heard.” She looked at the half-naked knight sprawled on the ground. “Is he dead?”

“Do you care?”

She looked up at Reece who was still bedecked in his knightly helm. “No, actually, I don’t.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere but that castle Asshat was speaking of.”

The knight on the ground moaned and brought a hand up to the gash on the side of his head.

“Looks like we’d better get going,” Reece said.

“Underclothes!” Lara said excitedly as she put on a pair of bloomers. A chemise, dress and stockings followed.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Abbot mumbled.

Reece went to stand over him. “Do not speak of a lady as such, Abbot. I have a mind to finish you off.”

“You are too much of a coward, Ferguson.”

“Eleanor, do you think his pants will fit me?” Reece called to Lara. He retrieved Abbot’s pants from the ground and held them up as if trying them on for size.

“Well, seeing as his arse is ten sizes bigger than his horse’s, I’d say no, but we could always use them as a vulgar tapestry.”

“Splendid idea, milady.”

“I will kill you, Ferguson!” Abbot bellowed, trying to get to his feet. Dazed, he managed to get one arm under himself before falling over again.

“No, I do not believe you will. Not today. But you have lost your pants and your woman. Explain that to your men.” He turned to look at Lara, smiling when he saw her fully dressed. “Are you ready, beautiful lady?”

“Almost,” she said. She went to Abbot’s horse and took it by the reins. “It won’t let me ride it, but I’m sure it will follow us.” She collected several discarded pieces of Abbot’s scattered armor and secured them to the horse.

“I like your style, Lady Eleanor.”

Reece mounted his horse, and directed it over to Lara. He tied the reins of Abbot’s warhorse to his saddle, then helped Lara mount his horse in front of him. They headed back the way they’d come, leaving Abbot to curse his fate on the ground in their wake.

“Are you certain you’re okay?” Reece asked. “I was hoping I hit him hard enough to kill him.”

“It’s a good thing you came when you did. I don’t think that’s the first time he’s forced himself on Eleanor. And I don’t think anyone stopped him on those previous occasions.”

Reece pulled his horse to a halt. He turned the animal and started back towards Abbot.

“Where are you going?” Lara asked.

“I’m going to kill that son-of-a-bitch,” he growled.

“Wait,” she pleaded. “Leave him. Let’s just get out of this place. I’d be happiest if I never had to see him again.”

“But what if he comes after Eleanor again?”

“Then you’ll have my blessing to do him in. I just don’t think we should go looking for trouble. It already follows us around like a hungry dog.”

“Are you sure? Reg really wants to kick Abbot’s uppity ass all over the countryside.”

“Reg can wait until we’re gone,” Lara whispered.

Reece sighed, turned the horse again, and headed towards a copse of trees. Several miles into the forest, he tied Abbot’s horse to a branch and left the animal behind.

“Apparently, we were prepared for this trip. We have provisions in the saddlebags, including those clothes for you. I just wonder where we were headed.”

“Perhaps if you try to talk to Eleanor with Reg, he’ll let us know.”

“It’s worth a shot.” He continued to lead the horse through the trees, one metal-encased arm around Lara’s waist, the other hand expertly controlling the enormous animal. “Eleanor,” he began, “let us continue on our way to… We should arrive at… If we head in the direction of…”

“I guess that won’t work,” Lara said.

“I guess not. Maybe the horse knows the way.”

Lara smiled and glanced up at her knight in shining armor. “So what do you look like under that helmet? And what do I look like?”

“You look like Lara right now,” he said. “But I caught a glimpse of Eleanor when we first arrived. She’s a gorgeous redhead with a very nice figure.”

Reece fumbled with his helmet and then removed it. Lara caught a glimpse of Reginald Ferguson before Reece’s image took its place. “No wonder Eleanor ran away with Reg. He’s one to melt the socks off your feet. Shoulder length black hair, strong jaw, piercing blue eyes. Very yummy.”

“Better than the real me?” Reece asked.

“Depends on your tastes.”

“My tastes don’t matter. What about your tastes?”

“You can be cute,” she said. “On occasion.”

“I see. And when would that occasion be?”

Lara considered her words, biting her lip to keep herself from giggling. “Every other Thursday at three.”

“Lucky break. It just happens to be Thursday.” He glanced up at the sun. “I’d estimate it to be around three.”

“How do you know it’s Thursday?”

“Because you let me kiss you, so my cuteness must be at its peak.”

Lara’s brows lifted at him. “I let you kiss me? When?”

“Now.”

He lowered his head and kissed the corner of her mouth. The rush of desire that flooded her, surprised her. Should her heart be thudding like this? And why did he have to be wearing that soup can of an outfit? She wanted the warmth of his body to surround her.

“Well, it’ll be another two weeks before I let that happen again,” she murmured.

“Uh-huh,” he agreed, using his thumb to tilt her chin slightly. His lips brushed hers again and the horse eased to a stop, tossing its head. Reece dropped his helmet and it landed on the ground with a loud clang. He then drew her across his lap, bending to feast on her lips like a starving man. She wasn’t sure how her fingers got tangled in his hair, or why her lips parted to deepen the mating of their mouths. Those little sounds of pleasure could not possibly be coming from the back of her throat.

“Lara,” he groaned into her mouth.

She tugged him closer, lost in the feel of his mouth on hers, the heady taste of his kiss. She was scarcely aware of the cold, hard metal pressed against her side and supporting her back. He drew away, breathing hard as he gazed down at her.

“God, woman, do you know what you do to me? I want to devour you whole.”

“I feel pretty safe as long as you’re trussed up in this steel,” she said, thumping the chest plate. It made a pleasant ringing sound.

“Well as long as you feel safe,” he murmured, before lowering his head to kiss her again.

She couldn’t seem to stop her body from pressing up against him. She was disappointed to find unyielding metal instead of a hard muscled chest. She moved her kiss to his jaw, his day’s growth of beard rough against her sensitive lips. Her mouth found the side of his neck just beneath his earlobe and she suckled the flesh there. He groaned, his gloved hands clutching the fabric of her dress. She was pretty sure she’d discovered another one of his spots.

“Okay, we have to stop,” he breathed. “I don’t think horseback riding and blue balls go well together.”

“Reece,” she whispered in his ear. He tensed as if she’d shot him. “Thank you for stopping that man earlier.”

“It was nothing,” he said breathlessly.

She nipped his earlobe playfully.

“No thanks necessary!” He pulled her away and looked down at her. “What are you trying to do to me?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Maybe I have a previously undiscovered metal fetish.”

“Or maybe Eleanor and Reg have a very intimate relationship.”

“Could be,” she agreed, though she had no sense of Eleanor’s influence at the moment. “Don’t you want to take advantage of it?”

“That’s a baited question, Miss Kensington,” he said. “If I say yes, you’ll think I only want you for your delectable body and if I say no, you’ll make it seem as if I’m rejecting you.”

She grinned at him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He took a deep breath. “Well, right now my dick is so hard, I think it’s dented Reginald’s armor.”

Chapter 9

Near dark, Lara and Reece stumbled across a seemingly abandoned cabin. The sinking sun allowed a chill to creep into the air. They were pleasantly surprised to find the cabin fully stocked with food, water and firewood. The small lean-to next to the cabin was perfect stabling quarters for the horse and even had fresh water and grain.

“Do you think the owners will return soon?” Lara said. “I feel sort of bad just barging into the house like this.”

“This is Reg’s hunting cabin,” Reece said.

“Are you certain?”

He pointed to a shield that hung on the wall and then the chest plate of his armor. They had the same crest. “Pretty sure. Let’s get a fire going and you can find us something to eat while I figure out how to take all that gear off the poor horse.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They worked together to start a fire and then Reece began to remove his armor. Lara watched, breathless with desire. He truly was a fine specimen of a man, even swathed in the quilted pads he wore beneath his armor.

“They might come looking for us here,” he said. “Actually, I can guarantee it. I predict that Abbot will be pretty pissed when he shows up.” He found a pair of boots near the door and pulled them on, stomping to settle his feet in the calf-hugging leather footwear. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, fear gripping her again. She didn’t want to be left alone. Well, Eleanor didn’t want to be left alone and her fear was enough to unsettle Lara, too.

“To take care of the horse.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”

She nodded, feeling ridiculous for being so afraid. She was safe here. Reginald would protect her from Abbot. He wouldn’t let him hurt her again. “I’ll have something for you to eat when you get back. I won’t promise that it will be good.”

He dropped a kiss on her cheek before turning to leave the cabin. “I could really go for one of your Denver omelets right about now.”

How did he know that was her specialty? Oh yeah. She kept forgetting that he knew her. “I’ll do my best,” she promised.

He winked at her and left her rummaging around in the pantry.

By the time he’d returned, she’d warmed some slices of ham on a skillet over the cook stove and was frying some runty potatoes she’d sliced in a bit of lard. Eggs, unfortunately, were not part of their provisions.

“Smells good,” he said. He removed his armor pads to reveal a loose linen shirt and black trousers beneath. He left his boots by the door and sat down at the small table. “I think the horse was happy to have all that metal taken off him. Poor thing. I know I was glad to get out of it.”

“I think the real trick will be getting all that stuff back on later.”

“Shouldn’t I have a squire to help me with that sort of thing?”

“Unless he’s hiding under the bed, I think you’re out of luck.”

They both glanced at the single bed along one wall. Blushing, Lara set a plate of food in front of him.

He smiled at her warmly. “Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate you cooking.”

“No problem. You get to do the dishes.”

“That’s only fair.” He took a bite. “This is good. Much better than that Viking stuff.”

“That isn’t saying much,” she said, sitting down across from him with her own plate.

He smiled, watching her as he took another bite. His direct stare was starting to unnerve her again.

“What are you looking at?” she asked finally. “Do I have grease dripping off my chin or something?”

“Nope.”

“Then what?”

“I’m looking at you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re here, and I can.” He was grinning at her like an idiot.

“Are you always this happy?” she asked, trying to be annoyed, but failing.

“Just when I’m with you.”

Her heart twanged. She focused her attention on her half eaten food. “You’re a sap, do you know that?”

“I have been accused of sappiness many times in the past.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Every single time by you,” he added, pointing at her with his fork.

She grinned, glancing up at him again. “And you never figured out that it wasn’t a compliment?”

He stole a potato off her plate. “You see, I choose to take it as a compliment. It means my feelings for you are apparent. I don’t even have to say them. Makes things a whole lot easier, in case I forget to tell you regularly.”

“And future me was okay with this?” she asked, shielding her plate from further thievery.

“She was. Are there any more of those potatoes?” he asked, fork poised as he waited for her to let her guard down.

“On the stove.”

He stood up with his plate and she relaxed her guard. He stole another of her potatoes with his fingers and put it in his mouth before he went to the stove for seconds.

“Keep your hands out of my food, Jericho,” she warned.

“Why? You’ll never finish it all anyway. You never do.”

It was true, but she wasn’t going to admit it to him. “You could at least ask me.”

“I could,” he agreed, sitting across from her again with a huge heap of fried potatoes on his plate. He stole another one of hers and munched it with a teasing grin. “But what’s the fun in that?”

She wondered if he’d always treated her like this. Wondered why she liked it, but pretended to be annoyed.

“What do you say, after dinner we play a game of spin the bottle?” he said and winked at her.

“There are only two of us here.”

“Exactly.”

“And we don’t have a bottle.”

“We’ll improvise.”

She chuckled. “Do you have to resort to middle school games to get me to kiss you?”

“Well, I don’t think I can wait a whole two weeks for Thursday after next.”

“You are looking pretty cute right now.” She stood up from the table to take her plate to a wash basin. He grabbed her around the waist and tumbled her onto his lap before she could move away. She laughed, struggling to return to her feet, plate in one hand, fork in the other.

“Cute enough to kiss?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

He lowered his head, his mouth covering hers, tongue gently teasing her upper lip. She started when a crash alerted her to the tin plate she’d dropped. He drew away, chuckling until their eyes met. Something sizzled between them and awareness smoldered in his intense stare. Her fingers found their way to his silky, brown hair as she strained to meet his lips for another kiss. She opened her mouth to him, anxiously stroking his lips with hers. When she tentatively touched her tongue to his, he tore away from her, gasping slightly.

He grinned. “I must be looking pretty damn cute at the moment.”

“Must be those lovebirds Eleanor and Reg having an influence over us,” she said, knowing full well she had wanted to kiss Reece and it had nothing to do with Eleanor or Reg.

“Remind me to send them a Christmas card.” He kissed her again, drawing her closer as he feasted on her mouth without restraint. An ache built at the juncture of her thighs. She pulled away, her body a swirling cacophony of desire and emotion. She’d come to terms with the desire. It was the emotions she was struggling to understand.

“You’re not that cute,” she said breathlessly.

She struggled as she tried to get to her feet and he tipped her upright.

“Sweetheart?” he murmured.

She bent to pick up the plate she’d dropped and looked around for the fork. She spotted it under his chair. Once she retrieved it, she headed to the wash basin.

“What?”

He stood and moved to stand behind her. “The way I’m carrying on, you probably think all we had together was passion and amazing sex.”

“Is that bad?”

He laid a gentle hand on her upper arms and leaned against her. “I really do love you.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about you, Reece. I need to slow down a little and sort through these feelings I have.”

He was suddenly hugging her from behind. “You have feelings?”

“I’m not even sure what they mean. Might be friendship. Might be lust. Something in between. A combination of the two. I don’t know. I need some time to think.”

“I understand,” he whispered. “I don’t want you to feel guilty for putting up boundaries. I’ll try to respect your wishes and slow down.” He made a wounded sound.

She grinned and shook her head. “You have no intention of slowing down, do you?”

“I said I’ll try. I will. I just...” He squeezed her.

She tossed her dishes in the sink and turned around in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him close. A wonderful feeling of being protected and cherished filled her as he held her. This feeling was not at all confusing. She wouldn’t mind holding on to it forever.

The longer Reece held her, the more Lara slipped away from herself. Eleanor’s thoughts began to swarm through Lara’s mind. When she glanced up, it was Reg she saw, not Reece. Eleanor’s belly fluttered with nerves. She loved Reg with every fiber of her being. They’d been planning to run away together for a while and she knew now that they were alone together, he expected her to submit to his passions willingly. She wasn’t sure she had it in her. For one thing, sex was painful and terrifying and humiliating. For another, she wasn’t pure for the man she loved. Abbot had stolen her innocence weeks ago and knowing she couldn’t give her virginity to Reg ate her up inside.

“Reg, I love you.”

“I know, sweet. And I you.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to wed me. I shall still stay with you.”

He cupped her face in both hands, his blue eyes softening. “Why would I not want to wed you? You are everything to me.”

“I have something to tell you,” she said, her heart a hard lump in her throat.

“What is it?”

“I am not...” She squeezed her eyes shut and hot tears traced paths down her face. “That is, I have been...”

“Don’t cry, love,” he whispered, kissing tears from her cheeks. “Whatever it is—”

“I am not a maiden,” she blurted.

He stiffened and his comforting arms dropped. “You’ve been with a man?”

She nodded. “It was against my—”

“Who was it?”

She swallowed to try to keep bile from burning up her throat. She couldn’t tell him. He hated Christopher Abbot. Reg would never want her if he knew that vile man had successfully ruined her.

“It was...”

Lara slapped Reg across the face, grateful that he suddenly looked like Reece again. Reece flinched. “What did you do that for?”

“She about to lie to him, which is the stupidest thing she could possibly do, but she’s afraid he won’t love her if he knows the truth.”

“So you slap me?”

“We have to fix this, Reece. She loves him so much. Does Reg love her?”

“He’d kill for her. He’s jealous of whoever claimed her maidenhead—did I really just call it that?—em, popped her cherry.”

“Reece! Don’t be crude.”

“He’s hurt, but he’ll get over it. Did she get carried away with some stable boy or something?”

Lara shook her head. “She was raped by Abbot.”

“God! Why didn’t you let me kill that fucking bastard?”

“I’m going to make her tell Reg the truth if I can. You need to make sure he’s supportive instead of jealous, got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll try. He’s not going to be jealous. He’s going to be murderous, I guarantee you that.”

“And then we have to help her get over her fear of sex. She thinks it’s disgusting, humiliating, and painful. We’re going to show her that it’s none of those things.”

“How?”

“Same way we made things nice for Helga and Eirick.”

Reece made a fist of victory. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”

Lara grinned at him. It was no wonder she’d fallen for Reece. He held nothing back. “Take it easy, okay? Don’t jump my bones at the first sign of surrender.”

“Me?” He attempted a look of innocence that made Lara laugh.

“Stop,” she said. “This is serious.”

“So why do you keep volunteering to help these women with their sexual problems?” Reece asked.

“Maybe that’s why we’ve been sent here. To help.”

“Or maybe you just want an excuse to get into my pants.”

“In your dreams, Jericho.”

“And they be very wet dreams.”

Lara shook her head at him. She wasn’t used to talking to men who blurted any naughty thought that occurred to them. Maybe that’s why she’d been so freaking bored with her life. “Hold me again,” Lara requested. “Last time, when I started feeling safe and comfortable, Eleanor’s thoughts came through.”

“You were feeling safe and comfortable?” he asked hopefully.

She emitted a long sigh. “Have I ever told you that you’re impossible?”

He grinned nostalgically. “All the time.”

She gripped his linen shirt in both hands and tugged him closer. “Will you just hold me?”

“If you insist.”

His arms surrounded her and she felt anything but safe and comfortable. Knowing that she’d just indirectly asked Reece to make love to her again had her feeling more hot and bothered than anything.

“Lara?” he said after several minutes.

She still wasn’t relaxed and Eleanor was still outside of her perception, but she was willing to let Reece hold her for as long as it took. Not because she was enjoying the feel of his hard body against her or anything. She really wanted to help Eleanor find happiness with Reg. “Hmm?”

“I’m not sure this is the best idea.”

Her heart twisted. “You don’t want to make love to me?” she asked breathlessly.

“Of course I want to make love to you, but if Eleanor’s been raped, wouldn’t it be better to give her time to heal emotionally before we have her jumping in the sack with Reg?”

“I don’t know. She wants to be with Reg. You’re so good in bed, I know you’ll make it special for her.”

“You think I’m good in bed?”

She didn’t have to look up at him to know he was grinning. “I mean, you’re not fantastic or anything, but I’ll be relaxed, so she’ll enjoy it instead of being afraid.”

Reece chuckled. “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you’re using her as an excuse to get me into bed.”

Lara shook her head. “I can’t believe you’d think I’m doing this for selfish reasons. I just want to help her.”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed in a most sarcastic tone.

She slapped his chest with the flat of her hand. “Don’t make fun. I think we’re supposed to help these couples.”

“By having sex with each other?”

“I guess that does sound pretty stupid.” She sighed. “Maybe I am just being selfish and trying to make this all work out in my favor.” It didn’t feel that way though. She really wanted Eleanor and Reg to be together. Not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. She legitimately thought she and Reece could help them find their happily ever after a little faster.

“We’re traveling through time, fixing one fucked up relationship after another,” Reece said.

She laughed and moved her arms around his back to draw him closer. Her hands slid over his shirt up the solid muscles of his back, craving the texture of his naked skin. “Exactly.”

“We’ll try your approach and if Eleanor starts to experience emotional trauma, we’ll stop.”

Lara tilted her head back to gaze up into Reece’s eyes. He was genuinely concerned about Eleanor’s feelings. Was it because he was sharing space with Reg? She didn’t think that was why at all. Lara cupped Reece’s face in both hands. She could practically see his heart melt as he gazed down at her. “This must’ve been why I fell in love with you.”

He grinned crookedly. “You just thought I was sexy.”

“That’s just an added bonus.” She rose up on tiptoes and claimed his lips in a searing kiss.

If he’d had reservations about making love to her before, they were gone now. Fingers tangled in her curls, he tugged her head back and feasted on her mouth. She yanked his loose, linen shirt free of his trousers and impatiently pushed it up his body. He released her lips long enough to pull the shirt off over his head, but claimed her mouth again immediately, caressing her upper lip with his tongue, nibbling on the lower. Her hands roved the planes of his back and shoulders as she pressed against his hard chest. She just wanted to touch him. Everywhere. When she reached for the fastening of his pants, he groaned against her lips before tugging away.

“Lara, you’re going to get me all worked up and I’m supposed to be taking it easy.”

Lara’s hand cupped his erection through his pants. “I want to touch you.”

Reece fumbled with his waistband and she found her hand full of thick, hot, and oh so hard, cock. She stroked his length gently, her free hand moving down his back to ease his pants down so she could explore the flesh of that hot little ass of his. She pressed her lips to his collar bone and trailed kisses down his hard chest to his nipple. She gave it a playful nip and then soothed it with the flat of her tongue.

“Someone is feeling naughty,” he murmured.

“It’s your fault,” she said, kissing her way down his belly. Her hand continued lower, pushing his pants down until they settled around his ankles. He kicked them aside. He stood before her naked, and gorgeous, and hard.

“I could really get used to this,” she said, sinking lower as she sucked kisses around his navel and then along a sexy path of hair that pointed her toward her ultimate destination.

“Me, too,” he breathed.

She hesitated, her lips inches from his swollen cock, her heart suddenly racing with fear. It sure was a bad time for Eleanor to let her feelings known.

“El, if you want to stop...” Reg’s voice said from above.

“No,” Eleanor whispered, her heart still hammering, “I just need to get used to your body.” Abbot had used his tool to cause her untold pain and humiliation. Eleanor just had to remind herself that this was Reginald. She promised herself that she would endure his lust. She wanted to give Reg pleasure even if every minute of the interaction caused her agony. She loved Reg mind, heart, and soul. Now she just had to learn to love his body. She loved most of it already, it was just this strange protruding part of him that caused her anxiety.

Reg touched her hair gently and she looked up at him. When he smiled, her racing heart slowed slightly. She lowered her head and kissed the swollen end of his cock gently. It twitched in her hand. Her heart skipped a beat. It moves?

“Take as long as you need, love,” Reg said.

She trailed her fingers down the length of him. The skin was loosely attached so that when she pressed against it, it slid slightly over the hard, thick rod beneath. She traced the veins just beneath the surface of his satiny skin and then ran her thumb up the thick ridge on its underside. Reg’s breath came in sharp, shaky gasps and when she glanced up at him, he had his head tilted back and his jaw clenched.

“Reg?” Eleanor whispered, her heart thudding for a different reason now. Was she touching him wrong? Hurting him? “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” he said breathlessly.

She knew he’d say that to placate her, even if it wasn’t true. Every muscle in his body was taut, as if he were in pain. She started to draw her hand away, but he caught her wrist.

“Please,” he groaned. “Don’t stop now.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “Unless, you’re afraid. Or... disgusted.”

She shook her head. “I thought maybe I was hurting you.”

“It feels wonderful, love.”

Her confidence restored, Eleanor returned her attention to Reg’s cock. The texture of the skin at the enlarged tip appeared different than that of the shaft. She stroked it with her fingertips. Reg shuddered violently. Eleanor’s nipples tautened and a strange throb centered between her thighs. She had experienced those responses when Reg had kissed her. Held her. But he wasn’t even touching her. She was touching him. Lowering her head, she kissed the head of his hard length.

Reg’s body jerked. Recognizing now that his response meant he liked it, she kissed it again, rubbing her lips and then her tongue over his sensitive skin. Her kisses became feverish, sucking gently. His quivering reactions fascinated her. She felt empowered. Wanted to give him more pleasure. Make this strong knight tremble at the touch of her lips. Her tongue. She sampled a drop of fluid she found at the apex of his erection and found it salty on her tongue. Wrapping a hand around his shaft gently, she held him as she explored his cock head with her tongue. Her fingers. Her lips. With her thumb, she traced the rim that separated the head of his cock from the shaft. He stiffened and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, Lara, I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Reece said unexpectedly.

Lara grinned up at him.

“How is she doing?” he asked. “Please tell me she’s getting over her fear of trouser snakes.”

“Touching Reg is starting to turn her on.”

“Her touching Reg is driving me insane. Could you help her out with her technique a little?”

Lara wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and ran her tongue over the head of Reece’s cock. She blew a breath over the moistened tip. “Like that?”

Reece swept an arm across the table, sending tin cups, plates and utensils to the floor. Lara squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her around the waist and set her on the table. He fumbled under her skirt and found her very, unsexy underdrawers were split in the crotch. His fingers brushed the hot, slick skin between her thighs and she gasped.

“Oh thank God,” he muttered, and grabbed his cock.

When she felt Reece’s cockhead against her entrance, she concentrated on his handsome face, not wanting Eleanor to intrude upon this moment. Lara wanted Reece. Inside her. Immediately. She wanted to experience everything he had to offer. It had nothing to do with helping anyone but herself.

Reece eased into her slowly, his strokes shallow at first as he wet himself with her freely flowing juices. Instead of thrusting deeper, he withdrew completely. Took an inch of her. Withdrew again. Entered her again. Withdrew completely. It drove her insane with need.

“Oh Reece, deeper,” she gasped, staring into his hazel-green eyes.

Beneath her hiked skirts, his hands gripped her hips and he plunged deep. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes closed, and she cried out in delight. He pulled out again.

“Please,” she gasped.

He shifted her to the very edge of the table so he could thrust into her again, taking her balls-deep this time. She dropped back on the table, bumping the back of her head on its hard surface.

Reece reached up to rub her scalp with one hand. “You okay?”

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

He moved his arms to hold her legs up and bent. He concentrated all of his effort on rubbing her deep inside in exactly the right way with perfectly timed gyrations of his hips. She stared up at him, her heart thudding with a mixture of excitement and unmistakable love. He had his bottom lip pinned between his teeth and his eyes tightly closed as he thrust and churned, thrust and churned. Sweat trickled down his strong jaw, corded neck, and pooled along his collar bone. The ripples of his stomach muscles bunched and relaxed as he thrust into her. The only thing that could possibly be sexier than watching his belly tense and relax would be seeing his ass tighten each time he thrust deep. What she wouldn’t have given for a mirror along the wall behind him. Lara reached between her wide-open thighs to rub her hands over his hips, wanting to feel his muscles working. She arched her back so she could reach his ass, careful not to interrupt his perfectly orchestrated thrusts. She held onto him with both hand as her pleasure built and built.

As her excitement intensified, Lara cried out each time their bodies came together. “Yes, Reece. Oh God.” Her vocalizations grew louder and louder as he fucked her closer to oblivion. “Reece. Reece!” When he sent her flying over the edge, spasm of bliss wracked through her body. Concentrated within her pussy and her womb, the pulsations of pleasure radiated outward, making her belly quiver, her thighs quake. “Oh yes, Reece. Yes. Reece.”

Reece’s breath caught and he thrust deep, gripping fabric at her hips with clenched hands as he flooded her with his fluids. She watched his face while he came. With both eyes squeezed shut and his entire face contorted with ecstasy, Lara decided it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen her life.

Reece sucked in a deep, shaky breath and then blinked his eyes open. When their eyes met, he grinned. “There’s a sample of what we usually share.”

“Can we do that again?” she murmured. “Minus the dress?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Chapter 10

A knock on the door early the next morning pulled Reece from sleep. He was reluctant to move. Naked and sated, Lara was cuddled up against his side fast asleep. He probably should answer the door, but the last thing he wanted to do was disrupt the intimacy between his body and Lara’s. A second knock pulled Lara abruptly from sleep and she sat upright, staring at the door apprehensively.

“Someone’s at the door,” she whispered.

Her mass of brown curls were tangled around her beautiful face and he decided what he really wanted to do was pull the covers up over their heads and pretend no one was home.

“Sir Reginald. It’s Toby. I’ve come with an urgent message,” the voice of a young man called outside the door.

“Who’s Toby?” Lara asked.

With her blue eyes wide and that bewildered look on her face, Reece couldn’t resist kissing her. Just a gentle brush on the lips before he forced himself to climb from the bed. “I have no idea who Toby is. Reg’s squire perhaps? We can only hope.”

Reece crossed the cabin and peeked out the small window beside the door. A blond boy of about twelve years stood on the doorstep with a roll of parchment clutched in his hand. The only other living creature in the yard was a sleek, black horse.

Reece found his discarded pants and donned them. Lara whined in protest and he grinned at her disappointed pout. Reece opened the door, not sure how he was supposed to greet Toby. He was thankful that he’d volunteered his name. “Good morning, Toby. What brings you here today?”

“A challenge has been issued,” he said excitedly and handed Reece the scroll.

Reece accepted the paper and moved into the cabin. Toby followed him inside and closed the door. Reece unrolled the parchment and began to read.

“G-good m-morning, Lady Eleanor,” Toby said.

Reece glanced up to see the kid’s freckled face scarlet with embarrassment. Reece looked over at Lara who was climbing out of bed and trying to keep her nakedness concealed. From Toby’s expression, Reece doubted if the lad had ever seen a lady in such a state of undress. Lara pulled a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself before walking towards Reece.

“Good morning, Master Toby,” Lara returned. “What do you mean a challenge has been issued?”

Toby pulled his gaze from Lara and looked at the parchment. “Lord Abbot has issued a challenge. A tournament of knights. He says the winner shall claim you as his bride, milady.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she said. “I’m not a piece of property. He can’t offer me as the prize of some competition.”

“If we refuse, he will call the law and have me imprisoned,” Reece said, repeating what he’d read on the scroll. “For kidnapping.”

“Then we should run.”

“Milady,” Toby chastised. “A knight would never refuse a challenge. How can you even think to ask Sir Reginald to run?”

“Toby, mind your tongue,” Reece warned.

“You aren’t thinking of running are you?” Toby asked. “I’ll fight him myself, just to watch the pompous ass lose. No prize necessary.” He swung his arm in a wide arc as if wielding a sword.

“I’m not running,” Reece assured him. But he doubted he had the skills necessary to joust a trained knight. Even with Reg’s expertise aiding him, Reece would need more than an inkling to survive. “The joust is to take place tomorrow,” he said, reading the challenge more carefully. Perhaps he and Lara would leap before he entered the arena. “And there will be two other events, one chosen by each participant.”

“No,” Toby said. “This was written yesterday. The tournament is today.”

“Today?”

Lara snatched the paper out of Reece’s hand. “You have to refuse,” she said, glancing up at Reece. Her concern was touching. “There’s no way you can win.” Okay, that was less than touching.

“But, milady,” Toby said. “Sir Reginald is one of the top champions in the kingdom. Of course he can win. Abbot is a fool for issuing this challenge. And his eagerness in this matter leads me to believe he plans to cheat.”

Reece ran a hand over his face. This was not a good situation to be in. Not a good situation at all.

“Can we postpone the tournament for a few days?” Lara asked hopefully.

“For the sake of your reputation, milady, it would be wise to wed Sir Reginald at once,” Toby said. He flushed again. “Meaning no offense, ma’am.”

“So it seems I have no choice in the matter,” Reece said. “And this will make our engagement legitimate, Eleanor. We won’t have to run off to get married.”

“But what of my sister?”

“She doesn’t like Sir Reginald anyway,” Toby cut in. “Everyone knows she wanted to marry Lord Abbot. He does have a better title and more money.”

“Thank you for reminding me, Toby,” Reece teased.

“Meaning no offense, sir.” The young man nodded at Reece.

“Well, I suppose you should get busy polishing my armor, readying my sword, preparing my horse.”

A bright smile crossed Toby’s face. “Yes, sir!”

“And I suppose I should have a bite to eat. It might be my last meal.” He glanced at Lara. She was staring at him as if unsure what to make of their situation. Toby left the cabin to begin his duties and Reece moved to draw Lara into his arms.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

“Reece, what do we do if something happens to you?”

He tilted her chin up. “I’d better teach you the words that activate the amulet,” he said. “I think you should be the one who wears it.”

“No,” she said emphatically, shaking her head. “I don’t want it. You will wear it, and you will recite the words, and you will refuse this ridiculous challenge.”

“Are you worried about me?”

“Of course, I’m worried about you. This isn’t some show at a medieval fair. This is a joust, with a real lance, with a real knight who wants you dead for humiliating him.”

“So you don’t think I can win?”

“Reece, this is serious. You could be killed.”

“I am more aware of that than you are, sweetheart. But we can’t mess up Reg and Eleanor’s future together. We have to go along with the chain of events as they transpire. Reg knows how to joust. I’ll just let him take control. Like when you were Helga and you milked the goat.”

“That goat kicked me through the milking shed’s wall.”

“Bad example,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine, Lara. Have faith in me.”

“I’m trying, Reece, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” She swallowed hard. “Or dead...”

He smiled. “You’re starting to care about me, rather you want to or not.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So you’d stop me if I did this?” He lowered his head and kissed her gently on the lips.

His plan to distract her didn’t work. “Reece, we could just stall for a couple of days. Then Reg could retain his honor and win his lady and you wouldn’t have to be in danger. What if you lose? And Reg and Eleanor never get married and have children? And wonder if those children are your ancestors so you’re never born?”

“Easy, Lara,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about that. What’s meant to happen will happen whether we are here or not. If I win, Reg won the first time through. If I lose, then Reg lost.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ve been through similar situations as I leapt through time for eight months.”

“You’ve jousted?”

“That’s not what I meant. When it looks like there is no way I’ll be successful, things turn out the way they should.”

“And if you’re meant to lose?”

“Then I lose.”

“And if Reg dies?”

He hesitated. “Then I die.”

“Just until we leap, right? You’d be okay after we leap.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “I won’t accept that.” She stomped her foot angrily.

He hugged her to his chest and she relaxed against him. “Everything will work out for the best. There is a feeling of confidence in me that can only mean Reg knows what he’s doing.”

“I hope you’re right, Reece. I’m not prepared to lose you. Not for Reg and Eleanor’s happiness. Not for anything.”

Chapter 11

They rode into the courtyard of a castle around midday. Lara glanced around, a feeling of dread in her chest. Eleanor did not like this place and she wasn’t happy to be returning.

“Everything will be fine,” Reece whispered in her ear, picking up on her unease.

“Are you sure we can’t run away?” she said, glancing up into his intimidating helmet.

“How would it look if we ran off and young Toby jousted in my place?”

Lara’s gaze fell on the profile of the young man riding the horse beside them. His eyes were glassy with star-struck wonder.

“Funny, I don’t think he’d be upset about it.”

Reece chuckled, the rich sound of his laughter made Lara’s heart sing. “You’re probably right about that.”

A man stepped in front of their miniscule processional. The clopping of hooves on cobblestones drew to a halt.

The man spoke, his voice authoritative and rather bored. “The challenge will commence in two hours time. Prepare yourself, Knight, for three rounds of tournament. Milady, your father would like a word with you.”

“My father is here?” she blurted.

“Since he is your guardian, he must agree to the terms of the challenge,” the man said as if annoyed by Lady Eleanor’s obvious ignorance.

“Of course,” she said.

Reece dismounted and helped Lara from the horse.

“Don’t die,” she demanded in a harsh whisper. “Actually, just win. Okay?”

He grinned. “With you as my tempting prize, how can I possibly lose?”

“I’ll try to remember that when I’m pulling a lance from your chest.”

“Such faith you have in me, woman,” he said jovially and patted her on the rear before she managed to get out of reach.

She gave him a threatening look and he winked at her. Lara headed towards the looming castle. If Reg lost the tournament, this cold-looking place would become Eleanor’s home. And that asshat Abbot would become her husband. Lara prayed that wasn’t Eleanor’s fate.

Lara glanced back at Reece before she began to ascend the wide stairs to the castle. He was speaking with Toby, probably about the upcoming competition. She bit her lip, unable to contain her worry, and then started up the steps. The door opened in front of her and she stepped inside. It was gloomy, but she couldn’t help but gawk at her surroundings. She’d never had an opportunity to visit a real castle, but it had always been a dream of hers. The museum curator in her was in sheer heaven as her eyes darted from one artifact to another. Well, they would have been artifacts in her time. Here, they were just stuff.

“Follow me, Lady Eleanor,” said the servant who had opened the door. “They await your arrival in the gathering hall.”

“They?” she questioned.

“Lord Abbot, your father, and your sister.”

Okay, this was so not going to be fun. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of Lara’s stomach.

The castle suddenly lost all appeal, but she took in the sights so she might savor them in her memory at a more suitable time. Rich tapestries hung from the walls to keep down the drafts. She thought she recognized Abbot bedecked in armor in one of the wall-hangings. She wondered if he’d commissioned a tapestry to be made in his likeness. Pretty tacky of him. The occasional piece of heavy, wooden furniture broke up the monotony of the corridor. Candles cast strange shadows on the stone floor. It all added to the doom and gloom she felt as she shuffled closer and closer to the confrontation ahead.

When they entered the gathering room, the servant announced, “Lady Eleanor Clayton.”

She swept into the room, trying not to be nervous. Trying to look confident. She was glad she was wearing a gown so they couldn’t see her knees knocking together.

The older man looking at her with disapproval could only be her father. He stood near the fire nursing an amber-colored beverage. Lord Asshat, er, Abbot was there as well, sprawled in a heavy chair with a thick steak on his right eye. And then she noticed the small, young woman sitting near the window. Pale and wane, eyes downcast, she didn’t even glance up when Eleanor entered the room. She was too well-dressed to be a servant, and her red hair, which matched Lord Clayton’s in color, led Lara to believe that this was Eleanor’s younger sister. Meek, unimposing. A terrible match for Reg.

“Wherever did you find those hideous clothes, daughter?” Lord Clayton asked, his beak-like nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Sir Reginald gave them to me, sir.” She didn’t know how Eleanor usually addressed her father, but ‘sir’ felt right. Lara tried to give Eleanor’s consciousness free reign, but the gentlewoman had been subdued since the night before. Lara wasn’t sure if the fantastic sex had frightened Eleanor or soothed her. She had all but vanished from Lara’s perception.

Lord Clayton scoffed. “This is the way he provides for my prized daughter? I have a mind to call off this entire tournament and run him through with my own sword. Look at what he did to your sister,” he demanded. “Alyssa is heartbroken.”

Lara looked at the young woman who she caught staring longingly at Lord Abbot. Alyssa started and diverted her gaze. “She always looks like that, father,” Lara said. “She didn’t want to marry Sir Reginald in the first place. The foolish girl is in love with Lord Abbot.”

Over in her corner, the girl in question made a small sound of displeasure.

“You are to wed Lord Abbot, Eleanor. You’ve the character to be a lady worthy of running a castle. You’ve the beauty to attract a powerful husband. Alyssa is meek and uncomely. She was lucky I set up her marriage to Ferguson at birth. She has little hope of making a good match on her own.”

Geez, what a dick. He didn’t have to say it in front of the young woman like that. Lara’s dislike of Lord Clayton was more than that of her own. Eleanor was in her somewhere intensifying her feelings. Lara just wished Eleanor would come out of hiding now that she was messed up with this weird family situation. Lara had no idea how to handle it.

“That’s not true, father,” Lara said. “Lord Abbot said himself that Alyssa would make the better wife.”

She glanced at Alyssa. The frail-looking young woman was staring at Lord Abbot with wide eyes. Lara could see her trying to find her tongue to voice the question she was bursting to ask, but Lord Abbot shifted in his chair to sit up properly and Alyssa’s gaze dropped again.

Lord Abbot spoke, his words slightly slurred, likely from lanolin. He had to be in a lot of pain. “Your father has convinced me that you are the prize, Eleanor, and after the humiliation I suffered at the hand of Sir Reginald, there is no way I will hand you over to him without a fight.”

“You are injured, my lord,” Lara tried. “Perhaps we should postpone this fight for a few days so that you can recover.”

Abbot scoffed. “This wound. This wound is nothing. I’ve fought and won battles with a sword wound that went clean through my side.”

Lara breathed a frustrated sigh. “If Sir Reginald wins, I am to wed him, isn’t that correct?”

“He will not win.”

“But if he does—”

Lord Clayton cleared his throat. “Daughter, go find something decent to wear. I can’t stand the sight of you in that filthy peasant garb. Alyssa, help your sister.”

Alyssa sprang to her feet like a marionette. “Yes, Father.”

She nearly sprinted to Lara’s side, took her by the wrist, and tugged her towards the door. She was strong for someone so small. Lara doubted she was even five feet tall. Lara followed Alyssa out into the corridor and towards a set of stairs.

“I brought some clothing for you from home, dearest sister,” Alyssa said in her unassuming voice. “You’ll need to dress well for the tournament.”

“Thank you, Alyssa, that was thoughtful of you.”

Alyssa hurried up a set of stairs and pushed open the door of a room halfway down a corridor. It turned out to be a bedchamber. Lara was ushered inside, and Alyssa closed the door.

“You idiot! How could you get caught?” Alyssa bellowed the moment the door was closed. “My plan should have worked perfectly. I never thought Lord Abbot would go after you.” She sighed. “Damn it! Sir Reginald has to win this tournament or I shall never marry properly. Hurry up and change so we can do something about this.”

Lara stared at Alyssa in disbelief. Eleanor’s meek little sister was a schemer? Had she lived in modern times, she would have been an Oscar-winning actress. Alyssa moved to the wardrobe and pulled out an emerald-green gown.

“You have to look stunning,” she said. “Lord Abbot was always easily distracted by your beauty. He won’t be able to concentrate by the time I’m through with you.”

Lara was too stunned to voice a protest as the chore of dressing began. Alyssa worked like an artist creating her Magnus opus. The quantity of fabric in Eleanor’s dress could have supplied an entire army with tents. After Eleanor was dressed, Alyssa went to work on her hair. Lara sat before a mirror at the dressing table, watching all of this happen to the woman in the mirror, who was Eleanor, not her. Eleanor really was a gorgeous woman. And with hair perfectly styled, one long strand curling against her neck and seductively drawing attention to her bosom, Lord Asshat, erm, Abbot, was sure to be distracted.

“Manners, Eleanor,” Alyssa hissed as they left the room together. “You’d set the world on its ear if only you’d stifle your infinite opinions on things best left to men.”

“I think you’re already setting the world on its ear. Why do you want to marry Abbot, anyway? He’s a bully.”

“A bully with a title. And we’ve had this discussion before, sister. You know I can handle him. He treats me like a delicate flower. You stir up his temper at every occasion. No wonder he treats you the way he does.”

“You make it sound like it’s my fault.”

“Well, it is, isn’t it? You can’t tempt a man to his very limits and expect him not to act upon it.”

Lara stifled the urge to slap the little twit until she grew some 21st-century sensibility.

Alyssa twisted her hands, a happy smile upon her thin lips. “Did Abbot really say I would make a better wife?”

“Yes, he did. Right before he tried to rape me.”

Alyssa gasped. “Does Reginald know?”

“Why do you think Lord Abbot has that horrible bruise on the side of his head?”

“Reginald doesn’t know about the other times, does he?”

Alyssa knew Abbot had raped her own sister and she still wanted him? Lara didn’t answer her question because she was too busy gaping at her.

“You told Reginald, did you not?”

“Yes, I told him.”

“Does he still want you, even though you’ve been deflowered by his rival?”

Memories of making love the night before swarmed her thoughts. “I think so.”

Alyssa made a sound of impatience. “This won’t work if Reginald doesn’t want you. Damn it, Eleanor, you said you would hide it from him. You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.”

“It’s kind of hard to hide it when he discovers you naked with your attacker holding you down with his er…” What did people of this era call male components? “His er…male parts fully exposed.”

Alyssa’s eyes widened. “You saw it?”

“Unfortunately.”

Alyssa got a thoughtful look on her face. “I wonder how long Christopher will need to get over you before he asks Father for my hand. Do you think a week is long enough?”

Lara couldn’t disguise her look of disgust. “You are twisted, Alyssa. Do you know that?”

“I want Christopher Abbot, Eleanor. And no matter what it takes, I shall have him.”

Lara wouldn’t wish that man on anyone. Not even someone who apparently wanted him and had shit for brains.

They had arrived outside the gathering room. “I will be certain not to get in your way, sister,” Lara said.

Alyssa smiled and entered the room. Lara followed her.

“Where is Lord Abbot?” Alyssa asked their father, eyes seeking every corner of the room.

“He has a tournament to prepare for, doesn’t he?”

“Father, if Lord Abbot loses, I would still be willing to accept him as my husband,” Alyssa said, eyes downcast, a fierce blush staining her cheeks. “You could speak to him on my behalf.”

My God, she has every man in her world completely under her control and they don’t even realize it, Lara thought.

“Why would he lose?” Lord Clayton said. “And besides, little one, he has no interest in you.”

“But if he were to ask for my hand,” Alyssa persisted, “you would give your permission.”

Lord Clayton drew his youngest daughter in his arms. “I would offer twice Eleanor’s dowry, darling, but do not get your hopes up. I hate to see you distraught.”

A servant entered the room. “The guest tent is ready for patrons to be seated.”

“Thank you,” Lord Clayton said, releasing his hold on Alyssa. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, father,” Alyssa said, smiling up at Lord Clayton with a look that would melt any father’s heart.

“And Eleanor,” he said, stalking across the room and grabbing Eleanor by the elbow. “Do not embarrass yourself or your family this day. Abbot is your champion, not Reginald. You are to behave appropriately.”

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “You will not be ordering me around for much longer, Father. When I marry Reginald, I will no longer be your concern.”

She jerked her arm out of his grasp and stalked out of the room. She caught his words to Alyssa as she entered the hall. “That girl will be the death of me. If only she were meek and well-mannered like you, little one.”

“I have tried to encourage her to be more submissive,” Alyssa said.

“I know, daughter. I am glad you are a good girl.”

Lara rolled her eyes. She could just picture Alyssa smiling up at her daddy with heart-melting worship. Puh-leaze.

In the yard outside the castle, a fence, spectator stands and a tent had been erected. Lara’s heart skipped a beat when she realized this jousting thing was for real. A clanging sound to her right drew her attention. Lord Asshat, fully bedecked in his polished armor, was heading in her direction. When he stopped beside her, he removed his helmet. His eyes roved over her body as if he were a detective looking for clues. Most of those clues must’ve gotten stuck to her boobs.

“You look incomparably beautiful,” he said huskily, his gaze settling on the tops of her breasts.

“Thank you, Christopher.”

His breath came out in an excited huff. “You’ve never used my given name before.”

Lara fluttered her eyelashes at him, feeling entirely stupid. Alyssa’s plan just might work, and if she had to pretend to like this guy to distract him and give Reginald an advantage, she would most certainly do her best. She reached up and gently touched the bruise on his face, resisting the urge to jab his bruise repeatedly with her finger. His eyes moved to hers. “You poor dear,” she said, wondering if she sounded simpering or just obnoxious. “What a terrible bruise. Are you sure you can fight?”

He caught her hand and kissed its palm. “Your concern is touching, milady,” he said. “May I ask the honor of your favor?”

Ugh! She reached into the cleft between her breasts and slowly pulled out a small handkerchief. Abbot made a sound of longing in the back of his throat. She pressed the handkerchief to her lips before handing it to him. “Please accept this small token of my affection.”

She wasn’t sure how it was possible for him not to realize she was acting for all she was worth. She’d run off with his rival, for crying out loud. Was he that much a slave to his dick?

Abbot accepted the handkerchief and drew it to his nose. “We wed tonight, milady,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “Then it will be my right to take what I want from you.”

She swallowed the acid inching up her throat and attempted a smile. “I cannot refuse my husband.”

He surprised her by grabbing her and kissing her with an open-mouthed, slobbery kiss. When his tongue sought penetration, she clenched her teeth tightly together. She forced herself to remain still. When he pulled away, he looked down at her in question.

“Not going to fight me?” he asked.

It dawned on her that her resistance was what had him so enslaved by desire. She slapped him across his bruised cheek, hoping to ignite him further, yet terrified that it would actually work. “Cad! How dare you take such liberties!”

“Oh, I dare, milady. I care not how viciously you resist.”

“I loathe you.”

He laughed. “Is that any way to speak to your future husband?”

She bit her tongue. This guy was unreal. When he lowered his head to kiss her again, she twisted away, breaking free of his grasp.

“Save it for the marriage bed, Abbot,” Lord Clayton said.

Abbot grinned. “Tonight cannot come soon enough.”

Lara glanced around, noticing Alyssa talking to Reece near his horse. Standing beside them, Toby’s slender body was practically vibrating with nervous energy. Reece leaned close to Alyssa, nodding occasionally as he listened to her instructions. When her hand grasped his metal sleeve so she could whisper in his ear, Lara was surprised by the spear of jealousy that pierced her heart. It must be Eleanor’s desire to be with Reginald, Lara reasoned. She knew that Alyssa had no interest in Reg and Alyssa didn’t even see Reece when she looked at the dashing knight preparing for the tournament, so Lara’s jealousy made even less sense.

“The observation tent awaits you, milady,” Lord Abbot said, watching her as she gazed at Reece.

“Oh, thank you, my lord,” she said, dragging her gaze back to Abbot. “I wish you luck.”

“I appreciate that, Eleanor, but I won’t be needing luck today.” His evil grin made her heart flop. What was he scheming? Lara couldn’t imagine what terrible brats he would spawn with Alyssa. The two were more perfectly matched than Lara wanted to admit.

Lord Abbot put on his helmet and stalked off in the direction of his waiting horse. Apparently, he had recovered the beast from the forest where it had been left. Lara couldn’t help but grin, imagining Abbot wandering the countryside pantsless, looking for his horse and armor. She made her way to the tent where a small crowd was gathering. Alyssa caught her arm just before she entered.

“There are three events. Two out of three wins the tournament,” she whispered. “Reginald has the obvious advantage in the sword fight. They are equally matched in the joust. Abbot has the advantage in archery. It really comes down to who wins the joust. I have an idea to turn the event to Reginald’s favor. Tell father I felt ill so went to lie down.”

Lara nodded.

“Did you do your part?” Alyssa asked. “Did you distract Christopher?”

Lara laughed. “It wasn’t hard. Breathing distracts him.”

“Make sure you are the front of the tent and cheer for him. He has a hard time concentrating when he’s showing off for you, sister.”

“Understood.”

Alyssa reached up and tugged the bodice of Eleanor’s gown down a few inches. “There you go. You’ll be married to Reginald by nightfall.”

Alyssa turned and headed back to the castle, holding her stomach as if she felt ill. Lara entered the tent and found her father standing near the front of the open structure.

“There you are,” he said. “Where is your sister?”

“She’s not feeling well. She went to lie down.”

Lord Clayton’s features tightened with concern. “I hope she is not too ill. She was never blessed with vigor or good health. The poor child.”

Oh yes, Alyssa was such a helpless creature. Sheesh! Blind much, Papa Clayton?

There was a trumpeting which drew all eyes to the arena. A man read from a scroll of parchment. “Lord Christopher Abbot hereby challenges Sir Reginald Ferguson to a duel of valor. The tournament shall be held at Abbot castle grounds on the morrow with the prize of Lady Eleanor Clayton’s hand in matrimonial bliss. The marriage ceremony will commence following the third event. Each knight may select one event for the tournament, with a joust leading the challenge. He who triumphs in two or more events, shall be named the victor. Should Sir Ferguson refuse the terms of this challenge, he shall be charged with the kidnapping of Lady Clayton and persecuted to the greatest extent of the law. Lord Abbot, do you hereby claim this challenge?”

“Aye,” Abbot called, lifting his hand to cheers from the crowd. Lara did her best to pretend she was cheering with them. She waved and wriggled excitedly.

“Lord Ferguson, do you hereby accept this challenge?”

“Aye,” Reece called.

There was a chorus of boos and hisses. Lara’s heart went out to him. He had to be nervous enough without having the added burden of the crowd being against him. She wished she had spoken to him before the match began. Good luck, my love, Eleanor’s thoughts came through loud and clear. Ditto, Lara thought. Well, except for that love part. Like? Sure. Lust? Definitely. But love? Her heart fluttered. Well, maybe.

Both knights directed their horses to the center of the wooden fence where they faced each other. They then turned and approached the tent, coming to a halt in front of Lara. Her eyes searched the visor of Reece’s helmet, wishing she could see his expression. Was he worried? She was about to toss her crumpets.

“The first event shall be the joust,” the announcer called. “Take your ready, knights.”

The horses were directed to either end of the fence. Toby handed Reece a lance and he settled the weapon into position at his hip. Lara noticed the tip wasn’t blunted. One of them could be killed.

She turned to her father. “We have to call this off,” she said. “These are real weapons.”

Her father looked down at her, his expression cold. “These are real knights,” he said. “Do you see what trouble your insolence causes?”

“I’ll marry Lord Abbot!” She clutched his sleeve, but he shook off her hold. “Just call it off.”

Lord Clayton took her by the arm and turned her to face the joust. “Allow him his dignity.”

Lara bit her lip. A trumpet sounded. Both horses leapt forward, hooves churning up dust. The knights raced towards each other at breakneck speed. Reece lifted his lance, leaning into the horse, the blue and white banner showing his family’s coat of arms rippling over his steed’s rump. A flash of light hit Abbot’s visor. Concentration broken, he turned his head the instant before the knights collided. There was an unsettling crunch. Reece’s lance broke off at the hilt as it hit Abbot’s chest plate. Abbot’s lance struck Reece in the shoulder and sent him flying. Reece did a backwards somersault off his horse and landed face down in the dirt. Lara attempted to spring over the low wall in front of her, but Lord Clayton grabbed her by the arm. Heart in her throat, she watched Reece, begging him to move. Toby ran to his knight and tried to rouse him.

The cheering crowd seemed muffled to Lara as she waited for signs of life from Reece.

“Get up,” she whispered. “Please.”

Reece rolled onto his side and with the aid of Toby climbed to his feet. The crowd booed, but Lara was thanking the fates and God and any other deity who might have spared his life.

“The first round goes to Lord Abbot,” the emcee announced.

“He cheated!” Lara cried. She wasn’t sure where that had come from. “Sir Ferguson’s lance broke.”

“The man brought his own lance,” Lord Abbot called over the crowd. “It’s not my fault he’s too poor to afford quality weapons.”

A round of laughter rang through the crowd.

Lara bit back a retort. Reece was walking towards his horse, which had come to check on his master. Wobbly on his feet, Reece pulled himself up into the saddle, favoring his left shoulder.

“Don’t count me out, yet!” Reg called. “There are still two events.”

Abbot spun his horse around. “Let’s finish this then. I hope to be wed within the hour.”

Another cheer erupted from the crowd. Alyssa appeared at Lara’s elbow.

“Did I miss the joust?” she asked, looking disappointed. “Who won?”

“Lord Abbot won, naturally,” Lord Clayton said with a smirk.

Alyssa tugged on Lara’s sleeve and she looked down at her. Alyssa beckoned her closer and cupped her hand around Lara’s ear, whispering, “I tried to distract him with that mirror. It would have worked if Abbot hadn’t sabotaged Reg’s weapon.”

“That flash of light was you?” Lara asked in a harsh whisper.

“Shh. I hate to admit defeat, but it looks like you’ll be married to Abbot this evening, sister.”

“There are still two events,” Lara reminded her.

“Have you ever seen Reg hit a target with any degree of accuracy?”

Lara shrugged.

“I didn’t think so. Reginald cannot beat Christopher at archery.” Alyssa’s eyes shifted to one side and she smiled wickedly. “Unless...”

A trumpet sounded again. “The second event of the tournament will now commence,” the announcer called.

The hum of the crowd died.

“A duel of swords!”

Lara’s eyes moved to Reece. He was already holding a long sword in his right hand and a shield in his left. At the other end of the arena, Abbot accepted a sword and shield from his squire.

“The first man to be knocked from his steed shall be declared the loser.”

Lara winced. She wasn’t sure if Reece would survive another fall from his horse.

The knights approached the center of the arena, and faced each other between the fence and the spectator tent. Reece settled his shield to protect his chest and lifted his sword. With a loud cry, Abbot kicked his horse forward and brought his sword down with a loud clank against Reg’s shield. The trumpet announcing the start of the match sounded.

“Cheating again,” Lara said under her breath. “Why isn’t anyone calling foul?”

“Probably because these are Abbot’s people,” Alyssa said. “This is his castle.”

Reg had recovered from the first stunning blow and swung his sword expertly, sometimes connecting with Abbot’s shield, sometimes his sword, sometimes an exposed bit of armor, but each strike found its mark. Abbot was continually forced backwards as he attempted to parry the blows. The crowd gasped each time a blow connected with Abbot’s armor and he’d wobble unsteadily in the saddle before recovering again. Lara dared not blink. One false move could prove fatal for either knight.

Making his move, Reg kicked his horse forward and swung aggressively. He unsettled Abbot with his shield, then brought his sword in for three quick strikes and a forward thrust. Abbot teetered in his saddle. A final strike to the side of the head knocked Abbot to the ground with a loud crash.

A wave of boos sounded through the crowd, but Lara was smiling and bouncing on the balls of her feet, barely able to contain her exuberance.

“The victor of the second event is Sir Ferguson,” the announcer proclaimed.

Another round of booing. Reece sheathed his sword in the scabbard at his hip, then removed his helmet. His perspiration-drenched hair was plastered to his head but the smile on his face as he looked at Lara made her heart catch in her throat. There was definitely something to this knight in shining armor thing. Toby appeared at Reece’s side, patting the armor on his leg excitedly. Reece handed his shield to the squire, then his helmet, before he dismounted.

Lord Abbot was still on the ground. His helmet had been removed by his squire and the young man was talking to the knight in quiet tones. After several moments, Abbot sat up. The crowd, who’d been watching him in rapt attention, broke out into a spattering of applause.

Reece took a long drink from a flask of water, his eyes trained on Lara in the stands. She offered him a discreet wave and he winked at her. She grinned stupidly and lowered her eyes. Why was her heart pounding so forcefully? Was it Eleanor? No, she realized. She had completely fallen for that fool, Reece Jericho.

Damn it.

“The third round will be an archery tournament,” the announcer said. “There will be a short intermission while the knights remove their armor and the targets are put in place.”

“Now’s your chance,” Alyssa whispered into Lara’s ear.

Lara was still staring at Reece, watching Toby help him remove his armor, and hoping to catch a glimpse of bare skin. God, she wanted to kiss the sweat off the side of his face. Why, oh why, was he all the way over there? “Huh?” Lara muttered distractedly.

“Go talk to Lord Abbot,” Alyssa insisted. “He’s going to have to be pretty addled to lose an archery contest against Sir Reginald.”

Lara glanced at her. “Do you really think anything I do can possibly help?”

Alyssa huffed and then whispered, “Lure him behind that big oak tree. Rub up against him. Accidentally brush against his male parts. Get him really worked up, then I’ll come get you.”

Lara’s stomach flipped over. “Are you sure that will work?”

“I’m positive.”

“And you promise to come save me from him.” She didn’t think sexually exciting her rapist was wise.

“I’ll keep an eye out. When you’re ready for me to rescue you, put an arm out from behind the tree and I’ll hurry straight over.”

Lara would rather eat live spiders than seduce Lord Abbot, but if it might help Reg, she was willing to try. Besides, while Eleanor might not know how to get away from the asshat, Lara knew self-defense. If he got too fresh, she’d kick him in the nuts repeatedly and jab his eyes out with her thumbs. Lara hurried from the spectator tent in the direction of Lord Abbot. His armor had been removed and he was drinking from a flask of water. He looked mostly dazed and confused already. She wondered if it was necessary for her to further unsettle him.

“You shouldn’t be here, milady,” Abbot’s squire said. “The final match is about to begin.”

Lara ignored him. “Can I have a word with you, my lord?” she asked Abbot.

His gaze was already glued to her bosom. Oh, this guy was too easy. And so disgusting. How could Alyssa want to wed him? Was it really that important to marry a man with wealth and a title? Weren’t there any better prospects for a lady of this age? How demoralizing.

“Can it wait?” Abbot’s tongue snaked out to moisten his thick lips.

“It will only take a moment.”

He set the flask aside and stood. He was still a little unsteady on his feet as he followed her to a large tree just beyond the tent. She drew him out of sight and then turned to face him, hoping her acting was half as good as Alyssa’s.

“I had no idea you were such a powerful knight,” she said, stepping closer to him until mere inches separated her chest from his. She looked up at him between her lashes, and moved her hand to his thigh. “I want you, my lord. I want you to… I want you to…” She tried to force herself to say the words, but they wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter to him. Her back slammed into a tree as he collided with her, squeezing her breast with bruising force as his squishy mouth covered hers. She fought revulsion. Her hand moved to his crotch and she squeezed his hardening package roughly. Most men would have complained about her harsh treatment of his prized possession, but Abbot merely growled into her mouth, and rubbed himself against her punishing hand.

He tore his mouth from hers. “You want me to hurt you, don’t you?”

No, you sadistic bastard, I want you to die a horrible death. She squeezed his crotch even harder. He flinched, but covered her hand with his own and encouraged her to apply even more force up and down his length. She was so gonna soak her hand in bleach for a week when this was over. Ew. Ew. Ew.

“You do drive me to distraction, milady,” he growled. He pulled her hand away so he could press his pelvis against hers, grunting even though several layers of clothing separated his gyrating hips from their prize. Lara threw a hand out to the side, praying Alyssa would keep her promise. Lord Abbot’s hand grabbed the coif on the back of her head and jerked her head to the side. He ran his slimy tongue up the side of her neck. His other hand was still bruising her breast. Did he really think a woman would enjoy this sort of treatment?

“There you are,” Alyssa’s voice sounded from beside the tree. “Lord Abbot, it’s time for the archery match to begin. I suppose my sister could not wait until after the wedding ceremony to express her gratitude.”

Abbot lifted his head. “Go away, Alyssa.” His hand was still on Lara’s breast, but he’d stopped gyrating against her at least.

“The final round will only take a few minutes and then you can get back to fondling my sister.”

He glanced down at Lara who was sure she was about to faint. She hadn’t taken a breath in a very long time as she attempted to keep herself from vomiting. She glanced at Alyssa who was glaring at her for not playing her part better. She had fondled the bastard’s disgusting junk. What more did the little schemer want?

Lara swallowed her revulsion and rocked her hips against Abbot’s rock hard erection. “Hurry, Christopher,” she purred. “I want to ride you, my stallion.” She’d be needing a large bar of soap to scrub the foul taste of those words from her tongue. Lara forced her hand between their bodies to squeeze his balls. “Hurry.” She shoved him away then, and he stumbled sideways into Alyssa.

“Hurry,” Alyssa repeated, shoving him in the direction of the arena.

“Hurry,” he grumbled. “Yes, I’ll hurry.”

He adjusted the bulge in his britches as he wound his way back to the tournament.

“That was disgusting,” Lara complained.

“But it will work,” she said. “Now, stand over there where the archers can see you, but the crowd cannot, and act suggestive. Hike up your skirt.”

“You have got to be kidding me!”

Alyssa gave her a strange look. “If you are implying that I jest, I assure you I am entirely serious.”

“I almost feel sorry for Lord Abbot. He stands no chance against you, sister.”

Alyssa’s only response was a wicked grin. She walked back to the tent, leaving Lara standing near the end of the courtyard. A target was now sitting about ten yards from Reece who was patiently waiting for a stiff-legged Sir Abbot to join him.

Abbot grabbed his bow from his squire. The lad’s eyes lowered to the bulge in Abbot’s fly, then widened. The boy bit his lip and turned around, quaking with silent laughter.

The announcer’s voice carried across the courtyard. “The final round shall commence. The target will be moved ten paces back after each successful round. The first to miss the target loses. Lord Abbot will launch the first arrow.”

A trumpet bugled and Lord Abbot adjusted his fly again before moving in line with the target. He lifted his bow, arrow in place and drew back the bowstring. Lara busied herself with shifting her breasts more comfortably in her bodice. She didn’t look up and wasn’t sure if he was watching her. There was a loud thwunk as the arrow struck the target. Applause followed. Apparently, Lara need to up her game.

Reece’s arrow easily found its mark and two men moved the target back. Abbot took his mark again. Lara took a deep breath, pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall down around her shoulders, tossing her hair to get it to fall into place. Thwunk. Abbot’s arrow hit the target. This wasn’t working at all.

“That was close,” the announcer said. “But he did hit the target.”

Had he almost missed? Maybe this stupid plan was working better than Lara thought.

Reece moved into position again. Lara tried not to stare at him, but the look of intensity on his handsome face stole her breath. He let the arrow fly. Thwunk.

A collective gasp was followed by a spattering of applause. Abbot glared at the audience and the applause died.

“Perfect shot,” the announcer said. The target was moved another ten paces back. Abbot took his aim again.

Lara dropped her handful of hairpins accidentally/on purpose and bent to pick them up. She caught her skirt to expose the back of her leg and wiggled her hips. Thwat.

Abbot swore loudly.

“That’s a miss,” the announcer proclaimed.

Abbot threw his bow on the ground. Reece took his mark. He steadied his arm, concentration unbreakable. Abbot charged toward him with his fist raised.

“Reg, behind you!” Lara called.

Reece ducked and elbowed Abbot in the gut. When Abbot flipped forward to cradle his injured midsection, Reece punched him hard in the jaw. Dazed, Abbot landed flat on his back. Ignoring the collective gasp from the audience, Reece lifted his bow, his bloodied knuckles steady. He let the arrow fly. Thwunk. The crowd broke into cheers. Lara couldn’t stop herself from racing in his direction.

She heard the announcer proclaim. “The winner of the third match and the tournament is Sir Reginald Ferguson.”

Reece tossed his bow aside and held his arms open to catch Lara in an exuberant embrace. He spun her around in his arms before lowering his head and claiming her mouth in a heated kiss. Reece... The cat calls from the audience faded into the background. Reece. For Lara, all the world—present and past—disappeared. There was only him. Reece. The time, the place didn’t matter. Only the man mattered. Reece’s heart thudded against hers, his arms comforting and strong around her. His lips tantalized her senses, stealing all coherent thought.

When he drew away, he was smiling and she was weak in the knees.

“You did it,” she said, smiling back.

“I don’t guess I ever mentioned being part of a champion archery team in college.”

She chuckled. “No, you did not mention that.”

His grin set her soul on fire. “So, I guess Reg and Eleanor are officially engaged.”

“I’m so happy for them. I think we should celebrate.”

She didn’t know how it was possible, but his grin widened.

“Congratulations,” Lord Clayton’s voice boomed from behind them. He extended a hand to Reece, who shook it vigorously. “I underestimated you, young man. You fought honorably. My daughter has permission to wed you.”

Reece’s arm tightened around Lara and she leaned against him, her heart light. “Thank you, sir,” Reece said. “I am anxious to make Eleanor my wife, but may I request that the wedding be postponed until tomorrow night?”

Lara looked up at him in question.

“Very well. We shall make the arrangements and move the ceremony to my hold.” Lord Clayton nodded curtly and went to the stables to collect his horse.

“Why do you wish to postpone the wedding?”

“We’ll have leapt by then. I’d hate to intrude upon something so special between Reg and Eleanor.”

She smiled. “It’s sweet of you to think of them.”

“We can still celebrate their engagement though.”

“No argument from me,” she said, letting her gaze wander over his hard, masculine form. “There’s something about a champion knight that sets a woman all aflutter.”

“If I’d have known that, I’d have dressed like a tin can sooner.”

“I prefer you undressed actually,” she teased. She glanced over her shoulder and found Alyssa had Abbot’s head on her lap and was stroking his hair as she murmured to him. That sly girl didn’t miss a beat. Lara still couldn’t fathom how Alyssa could want him. So he had a castle. And money. And a title. So what? He was still a loser. A pig. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t stomach being in Christopher Abbot’s company a second longer.” Lara took Reece’s hand and they headed towards Toby who was bragging to Abbot’s squire about his superior training and the honorable knight he served.

“You look ravishing in that dress, Lara,” Reece whispered in her ear.

She flushed despite herself. “Thank you.”

“I need to ask Toby something. Would you wait here for a moment?”

She gave him a questioning look, but nodded. He spoke to Toby, got a vigorous pat on the back, and was handed the reins of his horse. Toby pointed out towards the east of the castle and patted Reece on the back again. Reece smiled at him in appreciation and then headed in Lara’s direction.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise. We’re going for a ride.”

She smiled. “A ride? Aren’t we going back to Clayton castle?”

“Just a little side trip. Someplace private.” He leaned closer and his warm breath stirred the fine hairs behind her ear. “To celebrate.”

Her breath caught in anticipation. She could think of nothing more thrilling than being alone with this man. Except celebrating with him. Reece helped her mount the horse sideways, which left her feeling very unbalanced. He then climbed up behind her and wrapped his arms around her as he took up the reins. She snuggled against his well-muscled chest, suddenly feeling secure. And loved. The still-gathered spectators cheered as Eleanor and Reginald rode out the gate.

Lady Eleanor looked up at Reginald. Breathless with happiness, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheek against his face. “Are we really to be married, Reg?” she asked.

“I told you the first time I met you that I would marry you someday.”

“Reg, you were six years old!”

“True, but I was in love with you even then.”

She kissed him, thinking of the wonderful things he had done to her body the night before and wondering if it was too soon to ask him make love to her again. Maybe she could wait until their wedding night. Maybe.

Chapter 12

Reece drew the horse to a halt when they reached a small stream. He helped Lara slide to the ground before dismounting. Pulling the banner with his family’s crest from the horse’s rump, he spread it on the ground before reaching into the saddlebag and drawing out a flask of wine. Lara sat on the banner and waited for Reece to join her. Had he always been this irresistibly handsome, or did it have something to do with the valor he’d displayed during the tournament? Just looking at him made her mouth water. Maybe it was because he was all sweaty. As he became when he made love to her.

Reece stretched out next to her on his side and propped his head up on the hand of his bent arm. He took a swig from the flask before passing it to her. She pressed it to her lips, strangely aware that his had just touched it. Very middle school of her to think of it as an indirect kiss, but she couldn’t help it. The wine was warm, but sweet. She savored it on her tongue before swallowing.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She was hungry. For Reece. And not indirect kisses.

“Not for food,” she murmured.

She shifted closer to him, bent her head, and brushed her lips against his tenderly. When she drew away, his eyes were closed. He seemed to savor her kiss as she had the wine.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked. “Asshat hit you really hard with that lance.”

“I’m sure it will be bruised,” he said, fingering the area, “but the armor absorbed the blunt of the blow.”

“That’s good,” she murmured. She leaned forward again and, anticipating her kiss, his eyes drifted closed. She loved him like this—all calm and dreamy. Yeah, loved him. She smiled before she kissed him again, prolonging the gentle brush of her lips against his. When her tongue tentatively stroked his upper lip, he groaned and reached for her, drawing her against him. Her hair curtained them to any creature who happened to witness the sweet kisses they shared.

She drew away again and they stared into each other’s eyes. After a moment, he lifted a hand to touch her cheek. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”

“Something about ravishing.” She lifted her hand and rested it against his breastbone, loving the feel of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. She flattened her hand and stroked her way up to his neck, her fingers finding the strands of his hair, still sweat-damp from his exertions in the arena. She wondered why she found his musky scent enticing. Shouldn’t a sweaty male be offensive? But he wasn’t. She wanted to lick him from head to toe.

He grinned at her. “Are you surprised?”

“About what?”

“That you really can fall for someone like me?”

“First of all, what makes you think I’m falling for you?”

“I remember the first time you looked at me like that,” he whispered, and ran the tip of his nose along the side of her neck. “I’ll never tire of it.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’re the predator and I’m the prey.”

“Shouldn’t prey be a little more afraid of his predator?”

“I like it,” he whispered into her ear before planting a suckling kiss on her neck just beneath her earlobe.

She tensed, a spasm of desire catching her off guard.

“And why is it so hard to believe I could fall for someone like you?” she pressed. “Is there something you aren’t telling me? Are you married with three kids or something?”

His lips paused in their delectable exploration of her throat. He seemed about to tell her something. “Nothing like that,” he said. His hand moved to her side where he stroked up and down with slow, gentle motions.

“Then what?”

“We’re different, that’s all. Reserved intellectual meets impulsive troublemaker.”

“I wouldn’t call you reserved,” she murmured.

He chuckled, his breath teasing her throat. “I’m going to make love to your ear now.”

He traced the edge of her ear with his nose from lobe to apex, while blowing a gentle, warm breath up the skin just behind. Lara shuddered, urging him closer with the hand she had tangled in his hair. His tongue followed the reverse path his nose had taken. When he reached her earlobe, he drew it into his mouth, sucking vigorously before raking his teeth over the sensitive flesh. A moan rose to the back of her throat. He nibbled his way up the edge of her ear again, and tested her responsiveness by moving his hand to her breast. While she was distracted by that new sensation, he plunged his tongue into her ear. She cried out, surprised by how good he could make her feel just by being attentive to her ear.

He drew away and looked down at her. “If you keep making those sort of sounds, you’re going to give me the wrong idea.”

“What kind of idea did you have in mind?”

“I’m going to think you want me to make love to you.”

“What’s wrong with that idea?”

His stunned look made her chuckle.

“Well, perhaps not the whole enchilada,” she conceded. “Reg and Eleanor should probably save something for the honeymoon.”

“Half the enchilada?” He grinned, raising his eyebrows.

“I was thinking more like second base,” she teased.

“Second base I can do.”

“Aren’t you already on second base?”

He glanced down at his hand resting gently on her clothed breast. “I think I can do better than this.”

She chuckled. “I hope so.”

“Will you allow me free access to everything from the waist up?”

She bit her lip as if considering his proposal. “I suppose. What do I get access to?”

“You have an all access pass to every inch of me, baby.”

Her sly grin drew a look of concern from him. “Every inch?”

“Why do I think you’re going to make me regret that statement?” he said.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll regret it,” she murmured, shifting to cover his mouth with hers.

He moved to his back and she tumbled on top of him. His hands shifted to her lower back, pressing her closer as she kissed him heatedly. When his hands drifted further south and covered her over-clothed buttocks, she drew away to look down at him.

“Last time I checked, that was below my waist,” she teased. “Have you already forgotten your access is limited?”

“Sorry, I have a terrible sense of direction,” he murmured but trailed his hands up her back to her shoulders. His wince of pain had her instantly concerned.

“Are you really okay?” she asked.

“Shoulder’s a little stiff,” he admitted. “It hurts when I raise my arm too high. Nothing that won’t heal.”

She sat up, straddling his hips. Unfortunately, there was a minimum of fifteen yards of cloth separating their flesh. Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, releasing them one by one, exposing his skin an inch at a time. Once she had the buttons unfastened, she brushed the fabric aside, loving the feel of his hard muscles and crisp, chest hair beneath her palms. She cringed at the ugly bruise she found on his left shoulder.

“Reece, this is horrible.”

“It’s just a bruise. You could kiss it and make it better.”

She touched the area gingerly. “I wish my kiss would make it better.”

“Your kiss makes everything better.”

She looked at him and then laughed. “You really are a sap, Reece Jericho.”

He tumbled her onto her back, fingers digging into her sides as he tickled her. “Say that to my face.”

Laughing hard, she gasped, “I did say it to your face.”

His tickling intensified. “Then say it again.”

“Reece is a sap,” she said, finding it hard to catch her breath.

“Damn,” he muttered, “she’s on to me.” He stopped tickling her, his expression turning serious. “You know I’m not like this with anyone but you.”

Her grin vanished. She didn’t know how to respond to something like that, so she changed the subject. “Did you know you’re really sexy when you’re all covered in sweat and concentrating on a target with a bow and arrow?”

He grinned, sappy Reece going back into hiding and smart-assed Reece coming out to play. “You know, I seduce more women that way.”

“How many would you say?”

He seemed to think it over for a moment. “One that I know of.”

She grinned. “And who was that?”

“I think her name was Jennifer.”

Her mouth fell open in feigned outrage. “Did you forget about me?”

“Oh, were you seduced?”

“No,” she denied, knowing it was a lie. She wanted him, desperately, but this little game between them was too exciting to submit to her desire just yet. Maybe in ten minutes. But not yet.

“Well, there you go,” he said. “There was just the one.”

She took the sides of his open shirt in her hands, and tugged him towards her. “Less talking, more kissing,” she demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He stretched out beside her and leaned closer to kiss her. Her hands explored the hard contours of his chest and stomach as if they had a mind of their own. She found a round spot of skin with a smoother texture than the rest of his belly, and fingered it, perplexed. He drew away and looked down at her, as if knowing what she was going to ask.

“Bullet wound,” he told her. “There’s a matching scar on my back.”

Her hand slid around and found a slightly larger area of puckered scar tissue on his back.

“You were shot!”

“Just a little,” he murmured.

“What happened?”

“Wrong place at the wrong time,” he said. “No big deal.”

She thought it was a big deal. “Did you almost die?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m too tough to die. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. It’s all in the past.”

“That’s funny coming from someone who thinks the best way to escape the future is to hide in the past.”

He chuckled. “Point taken.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she persisted. “Who shot you?”

Reece sat up and stared out across the creek to the forest on the opposite bank. “Someday I’ll tell you, but not today.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

He squeezed her hand. “That’s not it. I just don’t want to talk about it. It happened over ten years ago. I’ve put that part of my life behind me.”

She sat up and cuddled up against his back. “Okay,” she said. “I want you to confide in me, but I won’t press the issue.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. “You can tell me anything, Reece. I mean that.”

“I’ll tell you some day.”

“Did you tell future-me?”

He shook his head. “It never came up.”

“I never asked you about your past?”

“I don’t think you wanted to know,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Besides, you were too busy trying to get in my pants.” He grinned impishly.

“I find that very hard to believe, Jericho.” She had a strange feeling settling in her chest. She wanted something special with this man. Something that a future Lara, who didn’t yet exist, never got to experience with him. It was as if she were jealous of some other woman for being with him first. And that other woman was herself. She knew it was strange to feel this way, but her tongue decided it was worth voicing. “Tell me one secret about yourself that future-me never knew.”

“Just one?”

“Anything. You chose.”

His ear was temptingly close to her nose, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from nuzzling it. Nibbling on its lobe. Sucking it into her mouth.

“My parents were gunned down when I was nine. The people you met as my family in the future took me in and raised me, but they were not my biological family.”

Lara felt as all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She released his ear and leaned around his body so she could look him in the eye. “Your parents were gunned down?”

He nodded and lowered his gaze, but not before she saw the raw ache in his soul.

“How awful.” She rose up on her knees before him and hugged him against her chest. Wrapping both arms around his head, she pressed his ear to her heart. It thudded so hard, she feared it might burst out of her chest. She brushed her lips against his hair, her desire to take his pain away an absolute necessity. “Is that how you got shot?”

“No. An attempt at revenge got me shot, but I don’t want to talk about this. It’s in the past.” He chuckled. “Actually, it’s a few hundred years in the future, but... Can we start celebrating now?”

She had a feeling that it had taken a lot for him to trust her enough to confide what little he had. She understood his need to change the subject. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. She released her hold on his head and dropped a kiss on his brow. She could tell bringing those memories to the forefront of his mind caused him pain. She almost wished she hadn’t asked. She also wished the tender kisses she trailed along his forehead could erase those terrible memories. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”

“Okay, one more secret,” he said.

She bit her lip, anticipating something profound to escape his lips.

He lifted his gaze to hers. The sincerity in his eyes stole her breath. “That dress makes your tits look fantastic.”

She slapped at him, unintentionally hitting his bruise.

“Ouch,” he cried. “Okay. I’m sorry, sadist.”

“Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to.”

“Honestly, that ache is a lot more tolerable than the one below my belt.”

“How can you possibly be turned on at a time like this?”

“Everything about you do turns me on, sweetheart. I thought you had figured that out.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way,” she admitted. She leaned forward and kissed the horrible bruise on his shoulder. Her hands ran down his washboard abs and around his sides to his back, while her lips traveled from his shoulder, down his hard chest. She flicked her tongue over the tiny pebble of his nipple.

Reece drew a shaky breath through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you again?” she asked, immediately concerned.

“I’m hurtin’ all right,” he breathed. “Are you sure you don’t want to get into my pants? There’s quite a lot going on down there.”

“Poor baby,” she crooned. She dipped her fingertips into the waistband of his trousers and slowly drew her hands from his back around his sides to his belly.

He tensed, and pulled away. “Okay, I can’t take any more of that. Cold shower time.”

He was sitting waist deep in the stream before she could voice a protest.

“Damn, this is cold,” he shouted.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Jericho, you keep tempting me to get into your pants and when I try, you run away.”

“I know better. You’re just teasing me to the limit of my tolerance, woman. It’s Lara Kensington’s favorite game.”

She shrugged. It was unnerving how he knew her so well. “Maybe. Or maybe you took flight before I could offer you some relief.”

He stared at her. “What are you saying?”

She held up her hand. “Something to do with my hand.”

“What?”

“Use your imagination.”

“I suppose it’s too late to find out now.”

“You missed your chance.”

“Of course.”

He continued to sit in the stream for several minutes. She could hear his teeth chattering from her position on the bank.

“Are you coming out of there?” she asked. “You must be cold.”

“Oh no you don’t, woman. I can actually think when I’m in here. You’re trying to lure me back to that state of incoherent thoughts and a one track mind.”

“I’ll behave,” she promised. “I just don’t want you to freeze.”

“Whatever gave you the impression that I wanted you to behave? I’m the one who is trying to behave.”

“Well, if I’m not behaving, how can I expect you to behave?”

He grinned at her and stood up in the stream. Water poured from his lower body in torrents. “I always did like your brand of logic.” He waded back to the stream bank and rung water out of his pant legs.

When he sat next to her, she couldn’t help but notice the goose flesh covering his entire body.

She made a sound of impatience. “Look at you. You’re freezing.”

“True,” he said, “but the perpetual hard-on is gone.”

Her eyes went to his crotch automatically. There was a stirring of movement there and he swore under his breath.

“God, woman, don’t look at him,” he muttered. “Then he thinks he has something to prove.”

She laughed, gaze moving back to his handsome face. “Reece, I can honestly say I’ve never laughed more in my life than I have the last few days. Thank you for stirring up my ho-hum life.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now hurry up and fall in love with me. I have an agenda here.”

She grinned at him. “I can’t promise anything.” But these feelings she experienced, they were more than friendship, more than lust. This was something bigger than both of them. She wasn’t sure she could keep it inside for much longer.

He took the amulet in his hand, staring at it with a perplexed expression on his face. “Carl should be along tomorrow,” he said.

“I wonder where we’ll leap next.”

Reece removed the amulet from around his neck and put it in Lara’s hand.

“You wear this in case we aren’t together when he arrives. It’s more important for you to get away.”

Panic filled Lara’s chest.“What do you mean in case we aren’t together? I can’t leave without you.”

“I’ll teach you the hieroglyphics on the pendant, so you can recite them,” he said.

She pushed the amulet back into his hand. “No,” she said, “I won’t go without you. You keep it.”

“Lara, this is for your own safety. You can’t worry about me. I want you to have the amulet. Now, repeat the chant after me until you know it by heart.”

“I won’t.”

Lara scurried to her feet and moved away from him so he couldn’t force her to take the amulet.

“I’ll do everything I can to be with you when you leap, sweetheart, but my objective is to keep you safe. Do you understand? Take the amulet.” He climbed to his feet and moved to stand behind her. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, holding the amulet out in front of her. “Please, Lara. Wear it for me.”

“Fine,” she said, taking it and putting it on over her head, “but I won’t learn the chant. Then I know I can’t leave without you. We’re in this together.”

“That’s what I want too, but—”

“There is no but,” she said.

She turned to face him. She could see the worry in his intense hazel eyes.

Reece stroked her hair from her face. “If he catches you, he’ll take you back to make sure you are killed.”

“Why does he care so much?”

“He’s afraid of what changing the past will do to the future.”

Lara hesitated, wondering if she and Reece were messing up things that were meant to be. “He has a point.”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. You are the future. My future. Without you...” His voice cracked. “Please, baby, promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay away from him. I can’t... I don’t ever want... Lara, you were dead.”

She wasn’t sure why tears were springing to her eyes, but she seriously needed to change the subject. Thinking about her own death. Knowing that if she went back to her own time, she had less than a year to live. It was too much for her to handle. She kind of regretted not knowing what that year she was missing entailed. In that year, she’d apparently fallen in love with Reece and they’d gotten engaged. Must have been one hell of good time. Well, except the murdered in a parking garage part. “You said you’d tell me about your marriage proposal sometime.”

He grinned, blushing. “We’ll save that for the day you admit you love me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She could admit it right now, but the thought terrified her. She rolled her eyes at him. “Like that will ever happen.”

“I think you’ll say it next time I make love to you.”

It never took them long to get back to this topic. “All we ever had in our relationship was sex. Is that about right?”

“No, we had other things. We share a love for history and adventure. I give a great massage. You make a fabulous Denver omelet. We have fun together.”

Well, that was true. Just being next to him was fun.

Currently, he was looking at her like a stud sniffing out a mare in heat, however. “I’m sorry I seem to be fixated with sex. I’ve had a very lonely, very horny eight months. I’ve been faithful to you, Lara, even when I leaped into a man with marital duties, I didn’t take advantage. I left behind a few angry wives and mistresses through the ages.”

“You should have given in. It wouldn’t have mattered to me one way or the other.”

He scowled. She’d hurt him. She could tell by the look on his face.

“It would have mattered to me,” he said. “I don’t fall in love easily and I fall out of love, not at all.”

Maybe he really did love her. Why else would he risk so much to try to save her? This wasn’t your regular save the damsel in distress situation. They were toying with the fabric of time here.

“I’m sure my future self is very happy you were faithful,” she admitted.

“I’m sure your future self thinks your current self needs to kiss me.”

She grinned. “I never listen to that crazy broad.”

“You should. She was pretty terrific.”

He bit his lip. It was strange to hear him speak of her in the past tense. A breeze picked up and Reece shivered.

“I think we should head home,” she said. “You need to get warmed up.”

“I guess I can’t convince you to warm me up.”

“Isn’t that how you got wet in the first place?”

“Come to think of it, it was. But I don’t want to leave just yet. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I just like being here with you. Just the two of us.”

“I like it, too,” she said. She was surprised by how easy it was to admit it.

“Can we stay a while longer then? I’ll try to control my involuntary shivering and get these goose bumps under control.”

He gave her a puppy dog look and though she knew he was manipulating her, she couldn’t resist.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she said. “And gave me jewelry.”

She lifted the amulet from her chest and looked down at it. She could feel the strangeness of it. It gave off the weirdest aura. Not malicious…just strange. Like something was tugging on it and it was tugging on her.

“Would you like some more wine?” he asked.

He took her hand and led her back to their little blanket.

“Sure.”

He handed her the wine flask and she took a sip before handing it back to him. He took a swig too, watching her examine the amulet as he drank.

“So what places and times has this amulet taken you?” she asked.

“I think I’ve been in every human war,” he told her. “Did you notice how this thing seems to transplant us in the most dangerous of situations?”

“I thought it was coincidence.”

“I don’t think so. It seems attracted to the most intense occurrences in people’s lives.”

“Did it always land you in a situation with a woman?” She denied the feeling in her chest was jealousy, though the feeling was becoming all too familiar.

He took her by the chin and she looked up from the amulet to his eyes. “Only when you’ve been with me.”

“But you said there were other women on your adventures.”

“They just happened to know the guy I leapt into.”

She lowered her eyes.

“You do care that I was faithful,” he teased.

She glanced up, her temper ignited. “Why would I care?”

He shrugged. “You tell me.”

“I...” She had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but when she met his eyes, she couldn’t say it. “I don’t know.”

His mouth brushed hers, surprising her into instant submission. He broke away, looking down into her eyes.

“Admit it. You wouldn’t want me to do that to any other woman.”

God, did she have a reader board on her forehead or something? Red letters moving across the marquee, displaying her deepest thoughts. How did he know how she felt before she could identify it?

“Maybe,” she murmured.

He drew her closer. “You don’t need to worry, sweetheart. Nothing could ever change the way I feel about you. When I delivered my heart to you, there was no return address.”

Sappy Reece was back, but she was getting used to him. She hated to admit it, but she liked Sappy Reece almost as much as Smart-assed Reece, and maybe more than Sexy Reece. Well, probably not more than Sexy Reece.

“You’re not going to laugh at me this time?” he questioned.

“I only laugh because you make me nervous when you get all sappy-like.”

“I know,” he said. “If I didn’t know that, I’d probably cry.” He protruded his lower lip in a pout.

Now she did laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the many sides of Reece Jericho.”

“That’s good,” he said. “You’re a complex woman. I have to keep you on your toes.”

“Are you sure you aren’t trying to keep me on my back?”

He grinned. “Of course not.” When she lifted a questioning eyebrow at him, he elucidated. “I like you on top.”

She slapped him in the shoulder and he winced. Her mouth fell open. “I’m so sorry. I keep forgetting,” she murmured. She pushed his unbuttoned shirt aside, revealing his severely bruised shoulder. She kissed the area with the slightest brush of her lips. “Is that better?”

“A little,” he breathed.

She kissed the bruise again, loving the salty taste of his skin. Her lips drifted along his collarbone and up his neck. Her tongue stroked his skin, seeking more of his delectable flavor. His hands moved to her back and began to unfasten the row of tiny buttons along her spine. When the confining bodice fell free, he pushed her sleeves down her arms. She pulled her hands free, and moved them to his hard-muscled chest. Her tongue dipped into his ear and he drew a breath between his teeth, his hands gripping the fabric of her chemise along her back. She could think of nothing but wanting his mouth on her breasts.

“Reece,” she pleaded in his ear, hoping he was still a mind reader and would know what she was thinking. His pulse was in a frenzy against her lips as she kissed his throat.

His fingers moved beneath the wide straps of her chemise, stroking the skin of her shoulders beneath. He pushed the fabric from one shoulder and kissed the newly exposed skin. He repeated the action on the other shoulder. When lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, he stroked the bodice of her undergarment down to pool around her waist. Slowly, watching her response, his fingertips brushed one aching nipple and then the other. Her head fell back, offering her throat, her breasts, as a sacrifice to this god who ruled her desire. He didn’t disappoint. His hands moved to cup her breasts, stroking the erect tips with his thumbs in a maddening circular pattern. His mouth descended upon her throat, kissing and suckling its way down her body. He moved his thumb aside to flick his tongue over her nipple and her entire body jerked. When he pulled her throbbing flesh into his mouth, she moaned. Her hand moved to the back of his head, holding him in place as he suckled and moved his tongue against the underside of her nipple, stimulating her into a delirium.

“Reece,” she cried.

He pulled away and blew a cool breath against her moist skin, drawing a shudder from her. He then lowered his head to her other breast and gave it the same treatment. She’d never been this excited by a man suckling her breasts. He was an expert at this. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had a doctorate degree in advanced nipple stimulation from the University of Oh My, Yes, That’s It.

She groaned in protest when he released her breast and lifted his head.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. He kissed her skin where her collarbones met at the base of her throat. “I’ve missed you. I don’t think I can stand to be without you for a single moment of the rest of my life.”

He lifted his head to look down at her. She didn’t think she was imagining the unusual wetness in his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t ever leave me, Lara.”

She was rendered speechless. He stared at her for a moment and then dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t have the right to ask that of you. Way to destroy the mood, Jericho.”

Apparently, he wasn’t aware that her mouth had opened to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. She closed her mouth again. What was she thinking? She decided she wasn’t thinking at all. It was nice to just let herself feel for a change. She stroked the hair at the base of his skull.

“I think I should start keeping a sock in my mouth,” he said.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she murmured. “I think you’re sweet.”

“You’re the only person who has ever accused me of that,” he said, lifting his head to look at her. He seemed as if he was about to tell her something, but dropped his head to her shoulder again.

“When I first met you, I thought you were a bad boy.”

He chuckled. “You have no idea how bad I can be.”

“So maybe you should tell me.”

He sighed, his body growing tense above her. “Will you please let me forget about my past?”

She decided not to press him. He’d tell her when he was ready. She urged him onto his back, wanting to return the pleasured he’d given her. Plus, she just really liked looking at him. Touching him. He had a question in his eyes as he looked up at her, but he didn’t say anything.

She stretched out beside him, propped up on one elbow so she could watch her hand as she gently stroked his chest and belly. As her hand moved closer to the waistband of his pants, he twitched.

“Wait,” he breathed.

She turned her head to look at him. “Shh,” she murmured. “You said I could have my way.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly.

“I won’t bite,” she promised. “Too hard.”

She bent to kiss his lower belly, drawing her tongue along the skin beneath his navel. She kissed a path to the waistband of his pants and placed a hand over the hard bulge threatening to pop the buttons off his fly. He drew a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Lara, I don’t think I can take this. I doubt even sitting in the stream will help.”

She smiled crookedly. She had no intension of making him sit in the stream, but she loved the amount of power she felt at the moment. He covered his eyes with his hands, both elbows pointing skyward. Lara squeezed the bulge in her hand gently, then moved her fingers to the buttons of his fly. She soon discovered he wasn’t wearing underwear. His cock sprang free of the confines of his pants, thick, long and hard as granite.

An ache between her legs demanded to be satisfied, but she denied it. This was for Reece. The poor man was hurting and she couldn’t help but think it was her fault. She ran a finger from the tip of his cock to its base, drawing a shudder from Reece’s taut body. She then bent her head and drew her tongue over the expanded head. She blew a breath across the moistened flesh, recalling how stimulating that action had been across her nipples.

He sat up, capturing her by the shoulders and drawing her away.

“I can’t take any more of your teasing,” he said hoarsely.

She grinned up at him wickedly. “Who’s teasing?”

He stared at her, assessing the truth behind her words. “I’m serious, Lara,” he said finally.

“So am I,” she assured him. She placed a hand on his chest and pressed him back down onto his back.

Before he could voice another protest, she captured his shaft in her hand and took its tip into her mouth. She did her best, knowing she was far from an expert at this kind of thing, but his sighs of bliss encouraged her to continue. She took his cock deep into the cavity of her mouth and then retreated, sucking and working her tongue against him. She slid her hand down to cradle his balls while she sucked him harder, bobbed her head faster, and wriggled her tongue in chaotic patterns over the head of his cock, before sucking him down her throat again. His raged breathing fueled her attempts to make him come.

“Lara…Lara,” he panted. “I’m about to…”

He warned her too late. His fluids spurt into her mouth and she swallowed, grinning in self-satisfaction. Lara continued to suckle the head of his cock until the spasms wracking through his body stilled. He fell limp for a moment, breathing hard, and then he sat up, gathering her in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Lara,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I should have warned you sooner. Are you okay?”

She chuckled. “Am I okay? I wanted you to come in my mouth.”

“You did?” he hugged her tightly. “But usually, you won’t let me... Not in your mouth. You always make me warn you in advance.”

“I guess future me wasn’t all that great after all.”

“I can’t believe you swallowed.” He reached for the bottle of wine. “Here, take a drink of this.”

“Honestly, Reece. I liked it.” She shifted in his arms so she was facing him. “Have a taste.”

She grabbed him and kissed him deeply thrusting her tongue in his mouth to share his taste with him. She expected him to pull away, but he kissed her back, stroking her tongue with his. He drew away after a long moment, staring down at her with half-closed eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I can kiss you without getting a hard on,” he said, lowering his head to kiss her again.

She smiled against his persistent lips. Her smile faded when his hand found her breast. She groaned into his mouth and then twisted her head to the side. “We definitely need to remedy that situation. I’ve just upgraded your Lara pass to full access and I want you hard and inside me as quickly as possible.”

Chapter 13

“You can’t stall them any longer, sweetheart. Go get ready,” Reece said.

“But what if Carl arrives while we’re separated?” Lara asked. They’d spent most of Eleanor’s and Reg’s wedding day getting ready for the ceremony to take place that evening. At the same time, they’d been careful to stay within shouting distance of each other in preparation for the impending arrival of Carl.

“I’ll stay just outside the door,” he promised, kissing her gently. “If the amulet starts to hum, just come get me. We’ll have a few minutes warning.”

She nodded. She wondered if Reece knew how afraid she was whenever he was out of sight. I’m becoming too needy, she thought. But she was coming to realize that she did need him and she wanted him beside her, not just now, but always. She wasn’t sure how feelings could develop so quickly, but as she tossed and turned beneath her covers, with Reece, who’d snuck into her bedroom, beside her, she couldn’t come to any other conclusion. This man was an important part of her life and she was more than willing to leap through time to stay by his side.

“Hurry, Eleanor,” Alyssa said, tugging on her wrist. “You’ll see Reg in less than an hour, and then you have a whole lifetime ahead of you to grow tired of each other. We need to get you dressed and your hair fixed.”

“Just a moment,” she said, shaking off Alyssa’s grip. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said to Reece.

“I’ll be right here,” he promised.

Forcing the feeling of dread down her throat, she turned and went into the room. Alyssa worked quickly, helping her remove her dress and replacing it with a beautiful white gown. Lara sat on the vanity bench and a maid began working her hair into ringlets around the headpiece of her veil. Eleanor was a lovely bride. Lara’s eyes misted as she stared at Eleanor’s reflection. The young woman was beside herself with happiness. She really did love Reg. Lara wondered if it was some of Eleanor’s feelings for Reg dictating her feelings for Reece. As soon as her thoughts drifted to the man waiting just outside the door, her heart raced and butterflies filled her stomach. No, she loved Reece for who he was. Knights in shining armor had nothing on the guy.

The faint humming sound coming from inside her bridal gown made Lara’s heart skip a beat.

“The amulet,” she whispered. “I have to go!” she said to the maid fixing her hair.

“Don’t move. I am almost finished.”

“You don’t understand. I have to go, right now.”

Alyssa appeared behind her. “Are you going to be sick?”

The hum was growing louder. Her stomach churned with nerves. This wasn’t wedding jitters though. It was time to leap again. Lara stood up, ripping a lock of hair from her scalp in the process. She was too terrified to feel much pain. The maid made a sound of impatience, but Lara was already halfway to the door.

“Reg!” she called.

The door opened immediately. He’d kept his word.

“Is it the amulet?”

She nodded, colliding with his chest and reveling in the comfort his embrace provided. Reece stumbled back into the corridor, but did not release her from his tight hold.

“Almost time to go.”

“Say the chant now, before he gets here,” she pleaded.

Reece shook his head. “That won’t work. Both pieces of the amulet have to be near each other for them to work. I can’t start chanting until he arrives.”

She looked up at him, clenching the amulet in her fist. “Hold onto it, in any case. Get ready.”

“Are you afraid?”

She nodded.

He kissed her brow and enclosed her hand in his. “I won’t let him take you from me, Lara. That’s a promise. He will never take you from me.”

She nodded again, wanting to believe his words, but her fight or flight nervous system refused to let her calm down. The amulet’s hum grew incrementally louder. The strange tugging sensation she always got from the artifact intensified until she thought she might be sick.

“I want to see you in a dress like this again someday,” Reece said. “You walking down the aisle towards me.”

She couldn’t understand how he could be so calm.

“You make a beautiful bride, Lara.”

There was a loud crackle followed by a crash in a room down the hall. Lara winced, clutching the amulet tighter.

“Where are they?” Carl’s voice bellowed. “God damn it, I asked you a question.”

Sir Clayton’s bedroom door crashed open and Eleanor’s father charged out of the room. His image flickered to Carl’s and then back to Sir Clayton’s.

Reece was reciting the words that would allow them to escape. “Hurry, Reece,” Lara whispered, unable to take her eyes off the huge man advancing in their direction.

Carl’s raced toward them, hand extended. He was within inches of grabbing Lara’s arm when his angry face bled into blotches of contorted colors. She watched, transfixed, as things moved past them, blurring together in a cacophony of smeared scenery and sound bites. Her feet came in contact with the earth. Lara was almost afraid to look at Reece. She knew he would look like a stranger at first and she doubted she’d ever get used to it.

“If you wanted to get me out of my pants, all you had to do was ask,” Reece said.

The first thing Lara noticed about her surroundings was the blazing heat. Desert stretched endlessly in every direction. Lara was wrapped in layers of red cloth. Even her face was concealed behind fabric. Reece, on the other hand, was entirely naked.

“Apparently, whoever is wearing the amulet arrives with clothes, the passenger, isn’t quite so lucky,” he said. “So, what do I look like?”

She looked him over. Much better than the Viking, not as easy on the eyes as the knight, but still, no comparison to the real Reece. The man looked young. Pretty even. His features were striking. In Lara’s time he probably would have been a runway model. Black hair and dark eyes. Smooth, deeply tanned skin. Her eyes raked down his lean body and caught sight of something she wish she hadn't seen. She winced. “It doesn’t matter what you look like, Reece,” she said, her heart thudding. “I love you no matter whose body you happen to borrowing on any given day.”

“You love me? Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, I really do.”

The man before her smiled and while he looked nothing like Reece, she could see Reece’s soul gazing out from the man’s dark eyes and that’s all that mattered.

“I love you, too, Lara, but I think you already know that.”

She grinned. “I don’t mind if you tell me.”

He touched her face with trembling fingers. “I love you, Lara. I’m afraid we’ll have to keep leaping through time for our entire life span just so I can keep you. Will you stay with me? Make our future together in the past?”

She nodded, tears springing to her eyes and it had nothing to do with the sand swirling through the atmosphere. “I always wanted an adventurous life. You’ve definitely given me that.”

“And isn’t it nice of us to help couples find a love like ours?”

“There is no love like ours.”

Reece drew her against him and a hot desert wind whipped her sari around her legs. He held her for a long moment and the woman who currently shared a body with Lara grew breathless with unrequited love.

“I wonder how sunburned my ass will be after I make love to you right here in the sand for hours and hours,” Reece murmured.

“I’m not sure that’s possible, sweetheart,” she murmured, snuggling against his shoulder.

“Why not? I thought you said you loved me.”

“I do, Reece. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what? This guy is totally head over heels in love with this chick. Holding her is so thrilling to him, I think he’s about to faint. He and I are both ready for some hot monkey sex in the sand.”

“Are you sure?” She looked up at him, trying hard to stifle a laugh. “Seems an unlikely activity for a eunuch.”

Reece’s eyes widened. He rubbed his forehead with one hand and groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I wish I were. How are we supposed to help this couple find true happiness if we can’t make love?”

Reece winked and wriggled his tongue at her. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

To be continued...

in

Twice Upon a Time

Lover’s Leap (Book 2)

Coming Soon!

From the comfort of a Turkish harem to war torn, feudal Japan can Lara and Reece help two more couples find their happily ever after or will secrets from Reece’s past destroy their own tender, new love?

~*~*~♥~*~*~

About the Author

Olivia Cunning writes steamy erotic romance novels with tender, tattooed, bad-boy heroes who meet their match in successful, strong-willed heroines. She currently lives in Nebraska and is always working on something new. Discover more about Olivia and her books at www.oliviacunning.com or chat with her on her blog at www.oliviacunning.wordpress.org. She loves interacting with fans! You can also find her on facebook, goodreads, and twitter.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13