Wherever You Are

by Sharon Cullen

  She released her hold and ran her fingers down his leg. Goose bumps followed in her path.

  He stroked her thigh, coming closer and closer to her center. Juliana moved so he would touch her but his fingers danced away, teased by coming back for a light touch, then disappeared again.

  “Morgan,” she gasped.

  “In time, love. In time.”

  Her hips bucked and she whipped her head to the side, grasping handfuls of the bedclothes. His hands were on her hips, on the sides of her legs, one cupped her mound and she pushed her hips into it and gasped. “Yes.”

  “Not yet.”

  She groaned. “You’re torturing me.”

  His smile was wicked, predatory. Exactly the type of smile she would expect from a pirate.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Now.”

  He placed a knee on the bed and climbed up until he was straddling her. His erection swayed and she licked her lips, wanting it, needing it like she’d never needed anything before.

  He stroked it between her legs and she moaned, arching her back in a silent plea. Another stroke and another until pressure built inside her. And then he slid in. She was wet, ready. It was an effortless joining. Their gazes locked. He caressed her cheek and she put her hand over his.

  “I know,” she whispered. They’d made love before, numerous times on the ship, but this was different. This time she knew who he was. They were married. They would never be apart again.

  Morgan blinked. It could have been the light cast by the fire but she could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

  He moved slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Never changing his tempo, keeping a steady pace. He held himself up but the tendons in his neck bulged and his arm muscles strained with the effort. Juliana ground her hips into his, bringing him deeper. He gasped and increased his pace. The pressure inside her built every time he drove himself home. She made little sounds, unable to stop herself until her muscles contracted around him and she cried out.

  Morgan pumped harder, pushing her into the bed until the ropes beneath squeaked and he threw his head back and groaned. She felt him pulse inside her as he came, felt each contraction and clamped down on him, milking out every last bit.

  Juliana lay next to Morgan, her head nestled in the crook of his arm. The night was clear and a slight breeze blew through the opened window. A while ago Morgan rose and blew out the candles, leaving the fire as their only light. They both undressed before climbing beneath the bedclothes.

  A gust of wind raced down the chimney. Flames flared to life. The fire crackled and popped, grew bigger then settled. For a moment she flashed back to the fire on the Molly Victoria. What would have happened if Morgan hadn’t found her? Not for the first time she had the feeling that fate had a hand in all of this.

  “Tell me about the mirror.” Juliana wriggled closer to him and waited, understanding he needed time to sort through his thoughts.

  “‘The weight of true love is measured not in distance nor in time, but in deed’,” he said softly.

  “‘Look ye into this mirror and find what ye seek. Step through and discover yer heart’s desire’,” she finished.

  Stay, and live a lifetime. Unspoken between them lay the last line.

  He was right. He wasn’t the same person now as he’d been then. She saw very little of Zach in Morgan and it was Morgan she was in love with more than ever. And truly she was okay with not going back—well, except for missing some modern conveniences like a washer and dryer and her Chi flat iron.

  “I don’t know how it works,” he said. “I just know it’s some sort of portal to the past.”

  “Why is it in your parents’ house?”

  The clip-clop of horse’s hooves drifted through the open window and the faint smell of manure and spring floated on the air. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the smell of animals on the streets. “It’s my mother’s,” he said. “She’s… Well, she’s not from the twenty-first century.”

  “What do you mean not from the twenty-first century?”

  She thought of Emily Langtree, the woman who was more a mother to her than the woman who’d given birth to her.

  “She was born in Kansas. In the nineteenth century.”

  A few beats of silence passed. “You’re saying you come from a family of time-travelers.” She couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice even if she was one of those time travelers.

  “My mother is. My father is a modern man, through and through.”

  “The police said you ran away and your parents just accepted it. I was so angry they would even think you would do something like that. But they knew. All along they knew.” They all had known. Emily, Zach’s father, his sister, Molly. And they never told her.

  “It’s not something you just blurt out to someone.”

  “No. I suppose not.” She felt numb and angry, although she knew the anger was misplaced. Morgan was right. It wasn’t as if Emily could have pulled her aside and said not to worry, that Zach was off having some adventure in another time.

  “How long did you know about the mirror before you stepped through it?”

  “She told me the night I left. I was going to turn eighteen the next week and it was customary to pass the…keeping of the mirror on to the next generation at that age. Fine job I did of it, huh?” He sounded disgusted with himself, as if he failed his family. Was that yet another reason he wouldn’t go back?

  Discussing Zach’s departure was like opening old wounds she thought had healed but in actuality were as raw as the day she discovered he was gone. It was worse now, knowing everyone kept the true reason from her. She was angry at his mother for putting such a burden on her son, for tempting him to do something rash and irrevocable. She had to have known the lure of adventure would call to him and yet she still told him.

  And he had gone.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Morgan’s arms tightened around her. “Part of me didn’t believe her. I went upstairs to look at it. But then it began to do weird things.”

  “The glass kind of shifted. Swirled.”

  She felt his head move in a nod. “I remember wanting to touch it and the next thing I knew I wasn’t in the attic anymore but at the edge of some woods. Immediately I turned to go back, but the mirror wasn’t there.”

  They’d been so young but thought they were so mature with their dreams of college and marriage.

  “I’m sorry, Juliana. For fifteen years I’ve wanted to apologize and suddenly the words don’t seem enough.”

  Her gaze shifted from the fire and landed on a cutlass propped in the corner. She remembered that cutlass. Remembered holding it as Morgan slept off his binge. Remembered fantasizing about putting it to his throat when he woke up just to scare him because she’d been so angry. In her time cutlasses weren’t propped anywhere and she definitely would have never thought of hurting someone with one. She’d come a long way.

  “Maybe it had to happen this way,” she said. “Maybe it was meant to be. You and me in this century.” At seventeen years old Zach had been everything to her. Maybe, in order for her to grow up, she needed to live without him so she could appreciate the person he became.

  “Tell me about my family,” Morgan said toward dawn.

  They’d slept off and on and made love more than they slept. Juliana’s body was tired but her mind was going full tilt. This was still so new and it seemed every time she thought they’d run out of things to talk about Morgan would ask her another question or kiss her in just the right spot.

  “I don’t know too much,” she admitted. “We parted ways when I went off to college.”

  “Why?”

  She tried to form the right words to express that horrible time after Zach’s disappearance. “It was difficult after you left.” Earlier he asked how she’d dealt with his leaving and she told him she went on to college and became the journalist she always dreamed of becoming. “Emily kept telling me to let it go and I
would get so angry at her. Of course now I understand it was because they knew what happened and it wasn’t as if they could tell the police. In a way the police wrapped it up nicely for them.”

  “They didn’t tell you,” he said. It was a statement. Of course he knew his parents never said a word about Zach time-traveling but she answered anyway.

  “No. I can’t imagine how hard it was for Emily not to say something but I know she couldn’t. I would have probably wanted to jump through the mirror to go after you.”

  “The mirror’s a tricky thing. No one can figure out how it works or how it decides where to send people and once you’ve transported, the mirror disappears so there’s no going back unless you find it again. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He kissed the top of her head and she covered his hand with hers.

  “They still live in the same house,” she said. “I talked to your mom that last day. Basically it was the same conversation we had years ago. She kept telling me to move on and I thought I had.” Her voice trailed away. She never told Morgan about Daniel and felt guilty for it. She kept telling herself she would but didn’t think her wedding night was appropriate. However she didn’t want to keep secrets from him anymore. “I was married.”

  There was a long silence. Morgan breathed deeply, evenly.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  “Juliana, you don’t have to explain yourself. You had a life to live and my mom was right. I wanted you to move on. I just… I guess I tried not to think of you married.”

  “It didn’t work out. He said I was still in love with you and he couldn’t compete against a dead guy. He was right, you know. At the time I didn’t believe him but he was right. I was still in love with you. That’s why I went back to see your mom. I wanted to prove Daniel was wrong.”

  “And instead you ended up here.”

  “And instead I ended up proving him right.”

  Morgan shifted. The muscles in his arms tightened.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not confusing you with Zach. I know the two of you are different. And yet you’re the same whether you want to believe it or not. I fell in love with you, Morgan. What you are and what you’ve been.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “It might take me a while to get used to the idea. Tell me about my sister.”

  She accepted the change of topic, knowing it was something they would be working on for some time to come. “I don’t know about Molly,” she said sadly. Growing up the three of them had been inseparable but after Zach disappeared Juliana and Molly grew apart. She always regretted their separation and had missed Molly. She hadn’t heard from her in years.

  “I’m sure she’s probably married,” Morgan said. “I might be an uncle.”

  Sadly they would never find out and Juliana felt a stab of pain at the family they’d both lost.

  She lifted his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. The sun broke through the night and bathed the room in soft lavender. Outside the birds began to chirp and Juliana couldn’t help thinking a new day had dawned as well as a new life.

  “I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Morgan frowned into the mirror as he attempted to tie his cravat. He hated these damn clothes and cursed this stupid century that hadn’t yet invented the zipper and simple necktie. If he had a valet it would be much simpler, but he never had a need for one and the twenty-first-century side of him cringed at the thought of someone else dressing him.

  He turned to Juliana. She was brushing her hair and he concentrated on her hands. Damn the damn ball anyway. This was his honeymoon, time he needed to spend with his wife because they didn’t have much more time left.

  Tonight, after the ball, he would tell her he was leaving first thing in the morning. The thought made his already aching head pound harder. She would be angry as hell and would demand to go with him and he would have to tell her no. She was safer in the Parkers’ home where Barun couldn’t get to her and Morgan would be able to concentrate better knowing she was safe. It would all be worth it in the end, knowing Barun was dead and they didn’t have to worry about him again.

  At this point Morgan didn’t care about revenge. He didn’t care about the lance or anything else. He just wanted Juliana safe and he wanted to live his life quietly by her side. He hoped he wasn’t asking too much.

  “You look a little pale,” she said.

  “Truthfully, I have a headache.” He rubbed his throbbing temples and grimaced. She set her brush down and touched the side of his face. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”

  He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’d do anything for you, Juliana.”

  She smiled and he turned back to the mirror to avoid looking into her eyes, because in just a few hours she wasn’t going to be smiling. He hoped by then this bloody headache was gone.

  He yanked on the ends of his still-untied cravat. “If I had a valet this wouldn’t be a problem,” he growled.

  She turned him around and took his cravat in hand. She was beautiful in a dress made of the same green as her eyes. Her cheeks glowed and her smile was radiant. Her hair was swept up off shoulders that still had a touch of sun to them.

  While he stood patiently and she tied his cravat, he ran through the security he, Isabelle and Reed worked out. It seemed impenetrable but Morgan knew Barun well. He managed to slip into the last ball Juliana attended and Morgan was well aware no plan was infallible, but he couldn’t find any holes in this one.

  “You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?” She patted his tied cravat and stepped back.

  Morgan looked in the mirror. “How the hell did you do that?”

  She shrugged and pulled her gloves on. “You’re avoiding my question.”

  He peered closer at the cravat. Damn but she’d done a good job. Better than any valet he’d seen.

  “Morgan.” There was a warning in her tone and he turned away from the mirror with a sigh.

  He made a point not to discuss Barun with Juliana because he wanted the wedding and the last few days to be about them. It didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it or that he hadn’t taken precautions or his men weren’t reporting in frequently. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping it all from Juliana but apparently not.

  He waited while Juliana gathered her things and they walked down the stairs and out the door. Once outside, she turned to him. “Don’t let Sanjit Barun ruin this night for us. Promise me.”

  He glanced up and down the street, looking for shadows within shadows and the men he’d posted around the house and across the street. “I promise,” he said, hoping like hell he could keep this promise.

  Juliana meandered through a deserted hallway in Sylvia’s mansion. Her excitement and anticipation long ago gave way to disappointment. What had possibly possessed her to think this ball was a good idea?

  Isabelle said no one in their right mind would turn down an invitation to one of Sylvia’s balls. Of course, it didn’t mean they had to be nice to her, or accept her. It was obvious they didn’t care for her and Morgan or their recent marriage. In fact, most of them, upon being introduced to Juliana, sniffed and turned their nose up at her. She’d endured some form of the cold shoulder all her life, why she thought it would be different now she didn’t know.

  Morgan had been right in not wanting to come. And where the hell was Morgan anyway? They’d been separated immediately upon arriving. Sophia had taken Juliana’s arm and tugged her away while Morgan went in search of Patrick. It was funny to see the wizened old man in a room full of formally dressed, uppity, titled people. But Isabelle and Reed insisted Morgan’s crew attend. And that, she’d heard whispered several times, was a disgrace. Except Juliana had the feeling the crew wasn’t here to party, but rather as protection. Beneath the formal clothes they scrounged up they were armed to the teeth and more on edge than she’d ever seen them.

  She tugged on her gloves. She would get some air and much-needed peace and quiet, then she’d return to th
e ball and count down the minutes until she and Morgan could escape.

  As she walked past a darkened room in search of a door to lead her outside, a hand came out and grabbed her around the waist. She opened her mouth to scream but another hand covered it. She struggled, her skirts hindering her legs as she tried to kick the person pulling her into the unused room.

  Her back was brought up hard against a solid chest. The door closed behind them, cutting off the sound of the party and any chance she had of someone seeing or hearing her. Soft lips pressed against her neck.

  “Did you miss me?”

  She stopped her struggles and turned around. A decidedly wicked gleam lit her husband’s eyes and decidedly wicked thoughts accompanied that gleam if the bulge pressing against her thigh was any indication.

  “You scared me to death.”

  “I couldn’t go another moment without touching you. When I saw you leave the ballroom I decided to follow.”

  She circled her arms around his neck, wishing they were anywhere but in a house filled with hundreds of people. Sylvia promised to keep it small, but her idea of small and Juliana’s were vastly different.

  “Where were you going?” He nibbled on her neck and she bent her head to give him better access.

  “Out—outside. For some fresh air.”

  He made some sort of sound deep in his throat as his teeth scraped the sensitive skin below her earlobe. She closed her eyes. Oh, Lord, if he didn’t stop soon she would be nothing but a puddle on Sylvia’s carpet.

  He pulled away and looked at her mouth before dragging his eyes to hers. “Having fun tonight?” His hands made lazy, slow circles over her back and she shivered.

  “No. You were right. These things are boring and I’d much rather be alone with you.”

  The wicked gleam turned hot and her body trembled at the promises those chocolate eyes held. He kissed her again.

  “Soon,” he murmured between kisses.

  “Promise?”

  “Oh, yeah. I promise.” He trailed a finger down her throat, across her shoulders, and into the bodice of her gown.