Rendezvous With Yesterday

by Dianne Duvall

  “Nay.” He studied her thoughtfully. “However, I have often found such to be true.”

  “Me, too.” Was that admiration in his gaze? “So, if you’re the only one who can read, why aren’t you over there reading the instructions to them?”

  He hesitated. “They displeased me earlier.”

  “What did they do? Take the fish you wanted?”

  He looked away. “’Twould not interest you.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested.”

  A twinge of what looked to be chagrin rippled across his handsome features. “I did not care for the way they looked at you,” he admitted.

  “What do you mean? When we came back from our bath?”

  Bad choice of words. Beth flushed as soon as they left her mouth.

  His blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he gazed down at her. “Aye. When we returned from our bath.”

  Beth elbowed him lightly in the ribs for teasing her. “I looked like a drowned rat. You can’t blame them for thinking it when they saw me.”

  A different spark entered his eyes then. “Verily, if that is what you believe, I wish I had a looking glass so that I might show you what I see.”

  She laughed ruefully. “I don’t need a mirror, thank you, and would only grimace if I had one. I’m not wearing any makeup. I have scratches all over my face from racing pell-mell through the forest. And even though I found a comb in my backpack, I know my hair. If I don’t use tons of mousse and spend half an hour blow-drying it straight, it kinks up as if it’s been freshly permed.”

  To demonstrate, she reached up, tugged on a ringlet until it straightened, then let it bounce back into place.

  He frowned. “You have beautiful hair. Why would you wish to straighten it?”

  “Because straight is in. Straight is sleek. Straight is sexy. Straight is sophisticated.” She wrinkled her nose. “Curly is cute.”

  He fingered one of the thick curls that rested upon her shoulder. “You truly dislike your hair?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe it.

  Her pulse picked up. “Yes.”

  “’Tis soft,” he murmured, his voice deep and hushed. “And radiant. See how it captures the light of the fire?”

  Her throat closed up, silencing any self-derisive protest she might have made. As she watched, mesmerized, the brown lock twined itself around his long, tanned finger like the limbs of a lover.

  “It coils itself around me, caressing me and making me your willing prisoner.” Seizing a larger section of hair, enough to fill his callused palm, he brought it to his face, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “And so fragrant. The perfume of some flower I cannot name. Mayhap one of those that defies winter itself and blooms ere spring is even full upon us.”

  Sighing, he returned the curls to her shoulder as if he had not just enthralled her with his words.

  Beth stared at him.

  Who are you? she wanted to ask, her heart thudding loudly in her breast. And are you really the man you appear to be? Her gaze fell to his lips. The kind I would just about beg to have wrap his arms around me and kiss me?

  “Beth?”

  She blinked. Where had that thought come from? “What? Oh.” Had he asked her a question while she had been mentally drooling over him? “I, uh, think I’d better go show the guys how to put my tent together. I’m about ready to call it a night.”

  Shrugging out of the blankets, she stood, lifted the hem of his tunic so she wouldn’t trip again, and practically ran to the other side of the fire.

  One day. She had known Robert for one tumultuous day. Half a day really, if that much.

  All things considered, she couldn’t possibly be falling for him.

  Could she?

  Hours later, Beth curled up beneath the pile of blankets the men had all volunteered and tried to sleep within the dubious safety of her tent. Once she had retrieved the instructions and begun barking out orders, the men had swiftly erected the small structure. Then they had once more behaved as though they had never seen such a thing and had all insisted upon crawling around inside it, inspecting it.

  The tent was small, about six feet by five feet with a domed ceiling and two arched windows. Each window was comprised of mosquito netting on the outside and nylon (or at least if felt like nylon) on the inside that could be unzipped to let a breeze through.

  Of course, all four men had been eager to zip and unzip them. It was a wonder she had been able to make them pause long enough to remove their boots so they wouldn’t track in too much dirt before they clambered around inside.

  Beth just couldn’t get over their childlike fascination with zippers and Velcro and the rest of her belongings. It was annoying, amusing and confusing all at once because, again, the more time she spent with them, the more she began to believe they weren’t faking it.

  A breeze rattled the tent. Shivering despite the protection of its walls, she burrowed deeper under the blankets.

  It just didn’t make any sense. Not where she was, whom she was with, or even the fact that she had lived through that violent confrontation with Kingsley and Vergoma.

  Had Josh survived, too?

  She could only pray that he had. And that tomorrow would bring her the answers she so desperately needed.

  Her limbs trembling from the unseasonable cold, Beth sighed and gradually let the world around her fade away.

  “Bethany?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Beth,” someone whispered.

  “Answer the door, Josh,” she grumbled, snuggling deeper into the blankets. Hadn’t he heard the doorbell?

  “Beth,” the deep voice called again, this time laced with amusement.

  Sleep receded. Her eyes flew open. “What?” Shoving disordered curls out of her face, Beth rolled onto her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows, and reached out to unzip the window in front of her.

  The nylon fell away, revealing Robert, propped on his elbows just on the other side. Golden light from the fire lit half of his handsome face and left the other half in darkness.

  She glanced over his shoulder.

  The other three warriors appeared to be sleeping soundly.

  “What is it?” she whispered. “Did you hear something?”

  He nodded. “You were talking in your sleep. I feared you might be—”

  “I talk in my sleep?” she interrupted, surprised.

  “Aye.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye.”

  She’d had no idea. But then, how would she? She had never had a lover who would tell her that she did, or that she hogged the covers, or… “I don’t snore, too, do I?”

  His lips twitched. “Like a warrior.”

  “I do?” she squeaked.

  He laughed. “Nay, Beth. I jest. But you do talk in your sleep.”

  Scowling, she thumped the netting in front of his nose, barely missing it. “What did I say?” Hopefully nothing embarrassing.

  “Much that I could not comprehend. At the last, when I called your name, you thought me Josh and bid me answer the door.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I feared you might be trapped in a nightmare, and sought to wake you ere it became too violent,” he told her.

  “Oh.” A moment’s thought failed to reveal whatever she had been dreaming.

  A brisk wind wound its way through the window, inspiring a shiver.

  “You tremble,” he murmured.

  “Yeah. It’s cold, isn’t it?”

  “Secure your window against the breeze and I shall leave you to your rest.”

  “Okay.” She reached for the zipper. “And, Robert?”

  He stopped in the process of lying down again. “Aye?”

  “Thank you.”<
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  He offered her a tender smile. “Sleep well, Beth.”

  She tried to. Sleep well, that was.

  But she couldn’t. Not because of nightmares. The temperature kept her awake. It was even colder now than it had been when she had turned in. The ground beneath the tent radiated an almost wintery chill that seeped through the thin material and settled in her bones.

  She wished she had a nice warm sleeping bag.

  Beth tucked one of the blankets beneath her, using it as a bed of sorts. But it didn’t make much difference other than to leave the rest of her colder.

  Tossing and turning, chafing her arms and legs, Beth’s frustration mounted. This was ridiculous! It was August! She should be sweating! Where the hell was she?

  She blew on her fingers.

  And what the hell did she have to do to get warm already?

  Sitting up, muttering several curses, she folded each of the three blankets that covered her in half, then stacked them one atop the other. She might have to sleep in a fetal position beneath them, but maybe six layers would finally insulate her well enough to sleep.

  Beth flounced back down, curled up into a little ball and tucked the folded blankets around her, pulling them over her head.

  So they were a little itchy and smelled like horse. Who cared? At least they were warm.

  Or they would be.

  Given time.

  Yep. The warmth would kick in any minute now.

  Damn it! It’s not working!

  How did those guys stand it out there? They all either slept on the ground or leaned against a tree, exposed to the wind with nothing but their cloaks for protection.

  Movement sounded outside the tent, distracting her.

  She jumped when the zipper at the tent’s entrance began to unzip itself. Struggling to unbury her head, she peered over the edge of the bunched-up covers. “Robert?”

  As the man himself ducked inside and resealed the tent’s entrance behind him, she propped herself up on her elbows.

  What had already been a small space now seemed positively Lilliputian.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered as he turned to face her.

  Crouched down on his haunches to avoid scraping his head on the top of the tent, he smiled. “Your muttering and chattering teeth are keeping me awake.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

  Robert waved away her apology, then motioned for her to scoot over. “Move over a bit. We will have to sleep with our heads in one corner and our feet in the other if we are going to do this. Otherwise I will not fit.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He grinned at the challenge in her tone. “Do not question my honor again. I only wish to offer you the heat of my body, naught more.”

  “Oh.” It seemed downright intimate as she scooted over to make room for him beside her. “So, we’re just going to sleep, right?” Best to put it right out there and make doubly sure.

  “Aye.”

  Robert was a big man and took up a lot of room as he stretched out as much as the tent would allow him. His arm pressed against hers. Their hips and thighs touched. Taking the blankets from her, he unfolded and shook them out to settle over their bodies.

  Oooh. And he was warm, too. So wonderfully, deliciously warm. She didn’t even wait for him to finish getting comfortable before she eagerly turned toward him and tucked her frosty toes between his calves.

  He hissed in a sharp breath as the cold penetrated the thin material that covered his legs.

  Beth felt a shudder ripple through him and laughed. “That’s nothing. Wait until you feel my hands.”

  He groaned. “You had best give them to me now and get it over with.”

  She gratefully thrust her icy digits at him, sighing with pleasure as his warm fingers closed around them and carried them to his mouth to be bathed in warm breath.

  “Saints, woman! Your dip in the river did not leave you ill, did it?” Freeing one hand, he pressed his palm to her forehead in search of aberrant heat.

  “I might ask the same of you. You’re so warm! You aren’t running a fever, are you?”

  “Nay.” The backs of his fingers touched her cheek, then her neck, before leaving. “You do not feel overly warm,” he murmured doubtfully.

  “I’m fine. I’m just not used to this kind of weather.”

  He grunted. “In truth, I do not find it unseasonably cool.”

  “Well, you must have been born in Alaska or something.”

  “Nay. I was born at Westcott.”

  “Oh. Where is that?” Maybe that would give her a clue as to where she was.

  A lengthy pause ensued, during which he stopped blowing on her hands. “You have never heard of Westcott?” His tone suggested she should have.

  “Nay.”

  “Lord Dillon, Earl of Westcott?”

  Was he another medieval reenactment friend of Robert’s? “Nay.”

  “Feared throughout the land for his ferocity?”

  “Not by me.”

  “Wed to a sorceress?”

  “Good for him. But nay.”

  “Lionheart’s fiercest champion?” he prodded almost desperately.

  “Who is Lionheart?”

  He sucked in his breath. “Do you jest with me, Beth?” He sounded very serious all of a sudden.

  Frowning, she tried to see him—a shadow among shadows—more clearly. “Nay. Why?”

  He offered no answer, as though he were too appalled to think of one.

  “Should I know him?” she asked tentatively. “Or is it an it? Is Lionheart the name of a charity or a rock group or something?”

  His thumbs began to stroke her hands in tandem. “Nay, Beth.”

  “Then, who—?” She lost her train of thought when she felt his lips touch her knuckles.

  “We shall discuss this on the morrow.”

  She wished he would discuss it now. He sounded shaken. Indeed, there was an odd texture to his voice. Indicating sadness? Concern? Something weighty she soon forgot entirely when he released her hands and urged her to roll away from him and onto her side.

  Before she had a chance to feel disappointed, he curled his large body around hers, his chest warming her back, his hips cupping her bottom, the fronts of his thighs cushioning the backs of her own. He slipped one of his thick biceps beneath her head to form a surprisingly comfortable pillow. The other arm he looped around her, capturing both of her hands in his and nestling them against her chest just above her breasts.

  His gentle touch and presence both warmed and soothed her.

  Well, part of her was soothed. The other part had trouble catching her breath and was, in fact, trying unsuccessfully to calm her racing pulse as a different kind of heat pooled low in her belly.

  Especially when she became aware of the obvious evidence of his arousal trapped between them.

  “Um… Robert?”

  “Ignore it.” Despite the increased beat of his heart against her back, he sounded completely unaffected.

  “But—”

  “You are a beautiful woman, Beth. I cannot help my body’s natural response to your nearness. But I will not betray your trust by acting upon it.”

  “Oh.” Beth winced, silently cursing herself for sounding disappointed. “Do you want me to move away?”

  His arm tightened around her. “Nay, you are perfect where you are.”

  Relaxing into his embrace, she waited for sleep to come.

  Instead of dreams, however, doubts returned to plague her.

  “Robert?” she whispered after some time had passed.

  “Hmm?”

  “Would you think less of me if I told you I was afraid?”

 
He stiffened. “Of me?”

  “Nay.” Though the city girl in her still thought she should be.

  His muscles relaxing, he settled against her once more. “Then what? What frightens you?”

  She bit her lip. “I think something is wrong. I think something is very, very wrong. I think I’m far away from where I should be. And I don’t know how I came to be here.”

  A sigh wafted across her shoulder as he nuzzled his face into her hair, inspiring a sensual shiver. “All will be well, Beth. I will help you find your brother and the answers you seek.”

  Just hearing those words helped her. “Thank you.”

  He gave her a little squeeze. “Try to sleep.”

  Too weary to argue, she closed her eyes.

  Wide awake, Robert lay motionless.

  His heat gradually suffused Bethany, stilling her shivers and drawing a sigh from her lips as she slipped into slumber.

  ’Twould be a long night, he thought, closing his eyes and willing his body not to respond when she snuggled her shapely bottom into his groin.

  Unfortunately, his body had a will of its own. He had been so long without a woman that even a gentle breeze could make his manhood stand at attention. His brother Dillon would be shocked, convinced that Robert very cheerfully spent each night in a different woman’s bed.

  In truth, Robert had been celibate for months. And this would be the first night he had actually slept beside a woman since Eleanor.

  He could not decide how he felt about that.

  He experienced some guilt, of course. Not because he was sleeping with a woman. Aside from his body’s involuntary response, there was nothing sexual about their embrace. He simply wished to warm her and comfort her.

  But it felt so damned good to just lie there with Bethany’s fragile body nestled trustingly against his own, her breath a soothing whisper.

  He had almost forgotten what moments like this could be like.

  One of the horses nickered softly. The fire beyond the tent continued to crackle and snap whilst insects and occasionally larger beasts voiced their accompaniment.

  Robert sighed, his breath ruffling Beth’s hair. His thoughts and his body’s rampaging response would no doubt keep him far from sleep this night. Concern would as well.