by Joanne Rock
Now, she combed her hair and shared her store of mint leaves with him as a wave of undeniable exhaustion overtook her. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep untangling her tresses until Graham pried the comb from her listless fingers.
Too tired to turn away his help, she allowed him to remove her surcoat and kirtle, leaving her garbed in a thin shift of the softest lawn. Even half-asleep, she felt her breasts tighten at the barest brush of his efficient hands.
When he lifted her in his arms, she snuggled shamelessly against him, delighted to find him quite naked against her as he carried her back to the bed they would share for the night.
The scent of fresh cut grasses and clean male skin brought a contented smile to her face as she burrowed closer to him. His soft groan pleased her and, despite a niggling fear that he would soon leave her with naught but a broken heart, she promised herself that tomorrow morning she would use her every feminine wile to make the man remember her for the rest of his natural life.
GRAHAM’S THOUGHTS WERE STILL back in Linnet’s bed the next morning as he prowled the grounds around the stone house just past sunrise.
Exhaustion had claimed him for a few hours the night before, but he’d awakened before dawn with Linnet spooned against him, her rump curved into his lap to graze a raging hard-on. His arm had found its way around her during the night, his hand palming her breast. And while he’d far rather be inside her right now than foraging for food or devising a way to use a ground-level door to the house without leaving signs of entry, he figured she deserved her sleep after they’d been awake for so long. Besides that, last night had been her first time—a fact that still blew his mind.
Now, he left a rabbit outside the back entrance to the house and wished like hell he could have just gone to Waffle House for breakfast instead. His mother—so protective of everything and everyone but herself—would have been appalled to know he’d taken down Thumper. But what else could he do? There were no Cheerios in Linnet’s world that he could see. No Starbucks drive-through window with a coffee-and-bagel special.
If she was a reenactor, she was getting a hell of a lot of backup to deliver a convincing setting to go along with her act. But last night as he’d stared at her while she’d slept, he’d turned over and over the idea that she was faking the medieval-maiden persona and he couldn’t make himself buy it. What motive could she—could anyone?—possibly have to pull such an elaborate ruse?
Weary of searching for plausible ideas, he released the enigma of his whereabouts for now and focused on the breakfast he’d had to hunt down.
He’d made the switch from carrying his sword in a protective case on his back to wearing it strapped on his waist. As an avid weapons collector, Graham owned plenty of carry pouches for his guns, knives and even swords. But the sheathes you could wear at your side for the swords had always been strictly novelty until now—fun movie props for guys like Brendan.
Graham had to admit he appreciated the easy access to his weapon in an uncertain place. The blade grazed his thigh with each step now, and as he trudged from the house back toward the path to the creek, it occurred to him that being here was a hell of a lot like living in the Middle Ages. He pressed his thumb to the bridge of his nose to ward off an idea that didn’t make sense.
Did that mean he was in denial? Or simply losing his mind? As long as he solved his case and found out whatever he could about the connection between what was happening here and what was happening in L.A., he didn’t care. He searched the dew-covered grasses along the path leading to the water, thinking maybe he could find some trace of the riders who’d torn through the woods the day before and scared Linnet so badly she’d trembled until her teeth had threatened to shake loose from her jaw.
Tamping down his anger, he sifted through one patch of grass after another for any clues, coming up dry until the ground vibrated against his feet with rhythmic pounding.
Hooves trotting.
Ducking back into the cover of trees, he waited to see the rider. Could it be Kendrick? One of Linnet’s brothers?
But this man was neither. A lone stranger on horseback, the rider bore no standard like the pompous, flag-carrying crowd who’d raced past the creek yesterday.
And since no one else knew to connect Graham to Linnet, he made a quick decision to approach the newcomer. Stepping from the trees, he was glad he’d converted his sword to his waist; the same way the longhaired stranger wore his weapon. The blade the other dude carried was customary for a nobleman, with jewels at the hilt and gold inlaid along the handle.
A piece Graham would have given his right arm to purchase at a trade show since goods like that were so rare they stayed in museums or private collections unless an owner died.
“Excuse me.” Graham shouted to the young knight who was probably around twenty-five and carried himself like a rookie—all attitude and only negligible skills to back it up. It was obvious by the way the guy started that he hadn’t expected company.
Spinning his horse to face Graham, the man’s expression turned from vague unease to smug overconfidence. The number-one cause of rookie injury and/or death. Graham was willing to bet it was as true for newbie knights as it was for cops-in-training.
“I am in a hurry to attend an important lord’s Midsummer festivities this day,” the knight returned from the lofty height atop his massive warhorse’s back. “What say you?”
“I’m afraid I took a spill and find I’m disoriented.” Graham rubbed his head for dramatic effect, figuring he had to possess at least as much acting talent as brainless Brendan even on his worst days. “Could you tell me what day it might be?”
“Tonight is Midsummer’s Eve, sir. Has your fall rendered you deaf as well?” The rider shook his head impatiently and turned his mount back toward the path.
“How about the year then?” Graham had already come to believe Linnet’s assessment, but perhaps he asked out of morbid curiosity. A pessimistic need to remind himself his life was seriously messed up right now.
“It is the year of the Lion-Heart’s reign, 1190.” The guy held his horse back just long enough to give Graham’s threads a once-over with a sniff. “And tell your lord to join us. Lord Kendrick has returned from Crusade and is rumored to host a gathering unlike any other. A veritable garden of earthly delights if the tales can be trusted.”
The stranger took off so fast he apparently didn’t hear Graham’s shouted request to wait. He needed more information. Like where the hell this shindig was taking place. The stranger rode in the opposite direction from where Graham and Linnet had seen Burke Kendrick riding the night before.
Cursing his lack of a horse—or a Jeep, damn it—Graham hastened his step back to where Linnet rested. He’d discover some logical way to get himself out of 1190 soon. But for now, he planned to take this opportunity to find Kendrick for himself because, somehow or another, Linnet’s former fiancé held a key to Graham’s case.
And since Graham had traveled back in time nearly nine hundred years to find it, he figured this had to be a hell of a clue. He just prayed he’d find a way to get back to L.A. so that once he uncovered the secret origins of the Guardians, he’d be able use the information to bust them permanently.
Too bad the thought of leaving Linnet to do his job already twisted his gut.
“YOU’RE NOT LEAVING WITHOUT ME.” Linnet warded off the bout of panic sliding up her throat at Graham’s suggestion he follow some flap-mouthed traveling reveler to pursue her former betrothed.
He had descended on her small cookfire like a ravenous beast, promptly devouring his share of the rabbit he’d left near the back entrance earlier that morning. Now, she picked at her breakfast with little appetite, her worries outweighing her hunger as they conversed in the overrun kitchen gardens just outside the holding’s stalwart walls.
“You’ll be safer here if Kendrick’s there.” Graham stomped out the last remains of the blaze now that he’d finished his food, his eyes shifting toward the horizon. “Bes
ides, I only have one horse.”
“You commandeered a horse?” She regretted sleeping late since she’d apparently missed all the good adventures. She had been looking forward to waking up in bed with Graham, and had found herself deserted with only a dead rabbit for company.
The day was off to an ominous start.
“I didn’t find it, exactly. She discovered me when her rider thought he could separate me from my sword.” He grinned and patted the hilt of the weapon in question. “Bad decision for that dude. But it turned into a nice little windfall for us. With no lock-up handy for punishment, I figured a little frontier justice would do the trick.”
“Dude? Frontier?” She did her best to understand him, but his words confused her.
“Sorry. That’s a tricky one to explain. It means old-school justice. Like the kind your ancestors would have doled out.”
She nodded, understanding the concept well enough but frustrated she did not know where words like frontier originated. He did not sound like any foreigner she’d ever met.
“Thieves and bandits deserve to be punished. But where’s the horse?”
“I left her tied to a tree on the far side of the house so she wouldn’t attract attention if riders pass by.” He passed her a bucket of water he’d hauled from the creek. “There’s a lot of traffic hauling through here on the way to the Midsummer shindig.”
“But you cannot follow the trail without me.” She had been guarded for so long—in the cruelest ways—that the thought of being completely alone now made her uneasy.
Was that so wrong? She wanted independence. Just not quite yet. And never while Graham encountered danger by himself.
“I’ll come back after I scope out the party and I can take you wherever you want to go. Anywhere you think will be safer than here.”
She shook her head, a bad feel insinuating itself in her veins as she idly pried an intrusive thorny vine away from an old sweet pea patch.
“My brothers could find me while you are gone.” She’d deliberated long and hard about whether or not to risk making a fire when her kin could be looking for her, but hunger had won out over any need to hide their presence.
“You don’t think they will be with Kendrick?” He stilled his restless roam around the clearing behind the house, his whole body tense.
“I am certain Kendrick won’t let them back in his presence until they deliver me as promised.” Her clan would lose gold, influence and prestige if they couldn’t provide one of the most powerful lords in England with his bride.
“Shit.” He searched the landscape with his eyes and then tucked her under his arm to plant a kiss on her head. “They’re not going to find you.”
She warmed at his promise even as she felt guilty for drawing him into her problems.
“I swear I will not remain a burden to you for much longer, but thank you for your protection until I can establish myself in a new life.”
He was quiet for so long she angled away from his arm to peer up at him.
“Will you take me with you?” She hoped that was his decision because she feared the worse for Kendrick’s Midsummer celebration. She could stand on the fringes of whatever debauchery he had planned and thank the saints she had escaped it.
“Damn straight you’re going with me.” His hand spanned her waist as he held her in front of him. “But you stick to my side the whole time.”
Heat blossomed inside her in spite of any fears about her future. The man had a gift for arousing her.
“I should think that will be a pleasure.” She would much prefer dragging Graham back into the house and disrobing him to see if he was as magnificent as she remembered.
Perhaps her wishful thought showed in her eyes for he pulled her against him and lowered his mouth to hers. The soft pressure of his lips brought to mind his consummate skill in pleasuring her. He seemed to know precisely when to deepen the kiss, taking possession of her mouth with the same expertise he’d used to possess her body.
The scent of smoke and fire clung to his clothes. Or perhaps she merely incinerated at his touch. Need rose quickly at just a simple kiss, as if now she knew what other delights awaited her, she couldn’t wait another moment to experience them.
He tasted of the sweet wine they’d shared, the grapes heady and intoxicating as his tongue played in a leisurely dance that left her breathless. His corded muscles tightened under her fingertips, the ripple of strength tantalizing her.
Perhaps she felt as good to him as he did to her, for his hands caressed her with light touches that set her senses on fire. Sweeping up her back and across her shoulders, stroking the column of her neck, his touch moved hungrily over her body until he worked his way down into the neckline of her kirtle.
A whimper issued from her throat, frustration at the layers of clothes between them, making her impatient. But hers were not the garments of a lowborn maid that could be easily pulled down for immediate access. There were laces and ties and brooches to hold it all together.
He palmed her breast through the fabric of her kirtle, her surcoat falling away just a little thanks to Graham’s familiarity with her gowns. Heat speared through her more urgently now and she arched up closer to him to convey her desperate situation.
He lifted his head to look down at her, his gaze heavy-lidded and fierce. She could have fallen right inside that gaze, her heart galloping heavily in her breast as she awaited more of his touch.
Just then, a flock of birds startled out of the nearby meadow, their flapping wings beating in rapid time with her pulse as she stepped nearer to Graham.
He reached for his sword as the birds flew off in a cloud of gray and brown. If they were beset by thieves—or worse—Graham would be prepared.
He stayed there, as still as a statue, for a long moment. Listening and watching, he inspected their surroundings before slinging an arm around Linnet again.
“Sorry about that.” He shook his head as if disappointed with himself. “We could have been surrounded and I would have never known because all I could think about was tasting you.”
His gaze fell to her lips, her breasts, and then whipped back up to her face.
“I am only sorry we couldn’t continue.” She knew he would not drag her off into the house the way she wanted. Not when he pursued Kendrick or whoever else was behind the crimes in his homeland.
He stepped away from her, the regret in his eyes soothing her disappointment just a little.
“Our time will come.” He righted her gown that had slid off one shoulder. “You can count on it.”
She didn’t know how she’d wait. Especially if she’d be sharing a horse with him all day on the ride to Kendrick’s holding.
She began to follow him away from the clearing when he stopped. Pivoted on his heel to face her again.
“And about the nunnery?” He shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”
Remaining silent, she didn’t bother arguing since she guessed he would not stay with her long enough to enforce his wishes. Instead, she turned into the house to retrieve supplies for the trip, her body still tingling from his kiss despite the memory of a vision that had come to her that morning as she’d gazed into the flames of her cookfire. The Sight told her that no matter how much Graham wanted her now—or how much he protested her convent escape to elude Kendrick forever— day would come when Graham would leave her world as quickly and as abruptly as he’d arrived in it.
And she planned to protect herself at all costs so that he did not leave with her heart as well.
10
IT WAS AN IMMUTABLE LAW of universal truth. Riding thirty-some miles with the object of your fantasies perched on your lap would have been torture in any century.
Graham gritted his teeth to maintain control while Linnet’s breasts jiggled against his chest, her rump slapping rhythmically against his thighs in an erotic pantomime of sex as they cantered through an open field. They’d started out their journey with her riding behind him, but the sweet agony of
her breasts against his back had had him sweating within five miles. Then his brain had fixated on the knowledge of her widespread legs behind him and he’d nearly run the horse under a branch low enough to take off their heads.
Lesson learned. He’d figured he might do better with Linnet in his lap.
Yeah, right.
“Other riders approach,” she whispered in his ear, burrowing even closer in an effort to keep her face hidden.
With no trees nearby, they would have no choice but to brazen out any chance encounter. They’d witnessed nearly twenty riders heading toward Kendrick lands throughout the day, but always before, they’d been able to take cover to avoid the possibility of anyone asking their business or recognizing Linnet.
“We’ll say you’re sick. Just cover up and stay close to me.”
The sound of hooves and laughter approached as the riding party drew near. Graham kept his focus ahead, ignoring the noise until raised voices shouted close behind.
“What’s this? Another Midsummer reveler bringing a choice morsel to the feast?”
The voice was that of a young man, but Graham didn’t turn to look at him until the rider reached his side.
A thin-faced knight with a bloodred shield reminiscent of Kendrick’s standard appeared. The newcomer’s device depicted a rose and a sword Graham noted as the man drew his mount close, his attention focused solely on Linnet. Graham might have dealt with him more charitably if the heavy-metal wannabe hadn’t decided to reach out a hand to place on Linnet’s leg.
“I’ll only take one finger the first time you touch her, son.” Graham hadn’t worked on the police force for a decade without learning a thing or two about scaring the pants off testosterone-burning dumb-asses. “But I guarantee the second time you try it, you can kiss your whole hand goodbye.”
Heavy Metal pulled back his hand just in time to save his digit while his friends hooted with laughter behind him. Graham still didn’t look back, but he would guess there were four or five others. Two of them had to be loaded down, their horses’ steps heavier and slower.
