"Reynard did say the Davenports were in that suite at the moment."
It was her turn to sigh aloud. "How are we supposed to figure out which one we're supposed to save?"
"Maybe it's obvious. After all, we only know one of them by name and where to find him this week. We're both smart and have active imaginations. I have no doubt we'll figure this out... as long as we don't waste time trying to make sense of it." Noah finished his inspection with a shake of his head. "I don't see anything here that suggests we're being punked. But before we cross over the impossible line with both feet, let's get dressed and go back to the lobby. If we've been transported in time, we should be able to find some hard evidence there."
Noah lit a second oil lamp in the bedroom to help them review their clothing options. The female underwear alone was enough to keep them from dressing quickly. There were no bras or panties as Maggie was accustomed to but there were stiff, silk bodice pieces that laced up on the side and flattened the bosom, silk boxer-style drawers, chemises and a variety of slips. Garter belts and stockings with black seams were in abundance. It all made Maggie frown and Noah grin.
The array of dresses ranged from lightweight shifts made up of layers of pastel chiffon to brightly sequined and fringed flapper numbers. Her only other choice seemed to be a dowdy, navy-blue pleated skirt and long jacket with a selection of silk blouses and striped jerseys.
Noah had much less to choose from—brown, gray or white, wide-legged trousers with high waists and cuffs and a matching suit jacket for each. There were five starched white and pinstriped shirts and two tuxedos, one with long tails, and lots of ties and suspenders. Much to Maggie's amusement, there was also a pair of plaid knickers and a pullover sweater.
"I'm pretty sure that goes with my navy ensemble... maybe for when we go golfing."
Their moods rose another notch when they discovered the cache of hats, shoes, accessories and jewelry, all of which looked very expensive... and very old. Whether this all turned out to be a hoax or they had really been transported, it seemed to have a fairly substantial fun factor built in. They had noticed how dressed up everyone was and chose accordingly so as not to stand out in any way, at least until they figured out what was going on.
They both agreed Maggie looked adorable in the sleeveless gold fringe over black silk shift. She accessorized with a gold sequined headband, a long black pearl necklace and several bracelets. Noah especially liked the dark, seamed stockings but he wasn't crazy about the bright red lipstick or the kohl eye shadow even though Maggie insisted she was copying what she'd seen in the lobby.
Noah, on the other hand, was incredibly handsome in the black tuxedo with the shorter jacket and gold brocade cummerbund and bowtie. Taking Maggie's makeup lead, he used some goo from a Murray's Superior Pomade jar to slick back his hair. Before leaving the bedroom he grabbed some bills out of the jewelry cabinet and stuffed them in his pocket.
He started to close the cabinet but stopped to take one more accessory—a gold pocket watch with an ornate cover and a gold chain with a clip on the end. He flipped open the cover and his look of admiration turned to a frown. He squinted at the inside for several seconds. "It's showing ten-thirty. That seems about right. I think it was a little after nine-thirty when whatever happened, happened. But this is really strange." He handed her the watch. "Am I seeing things or do these two people look an awful lot like us?"
She held the watch closer to the light. Inserted opposite the timepiece was a small round wedding photo of a couple who looked just like them. "Funny but I don't remember posing for this."
He shrugged and gave her a wink. "Not remembering doesn't mean it didn't happen. Maybe it was taken in one of our past lives. Or maybe we've been here before. Remember, anything's possible."
Rather than get into a theoretical discussion that would only delay their getting to the truth, she stood back and gave him a head-to-toe inspection. "I didn't think you could get any more handsome." Maggie gave his tie one last straightening then gave him an air kiss so as not to smear her fire-engine red, greasy lipstick.
He flicked the loose fringe hanging over her nearly flattened chest. "You look pretty damn fabulous yourself. He leaned down to kiss her lips then pecked her nose instead. Putting his arm around her, he said, "Let's go see if our bellman buddy told the truth about the year. If so, I think we have to assume we have a task to complete and we're on a pretty tight deadline to figure out what we're here to do and do it."
In her mind, Maggie heard Reynard's warning. Ya will live out your days here on Crystal Island, in this time. The shiver that ran down her spine could have been one of confirmation... or a reaction to his mention of restrictions they would be forced to endure.
* * *
Noah leaned down and whispered in Maggie's ear. "Satisfied?"
His question and his breath both tickled her. It shouldn't have made her think of sex but it did. Apparently, the chemistry he blamed for her reaction to him hadn't been diminished by time travel. "We've seen today's newspaper, the calendar on the concierge desk and the registration book. The lobby furnishings aren't the same. People are smoking cigarettes and cigars. Indoors. A hoax of this magnitude would take more than a few hours to set up."
"And we really can't ignore one more major thing. Look up. The glass panels in the dome seem different, less clear. I remember reading about them being replaced in the nineties. That absolutely could not have been accomplished while we were outside. But how could there be electricity to those chandeliers?"
Noah shrugged. "There must be a pretty big generator somewhere nearby."
"Maybe this is all a dream or hallucination," Maggie ventured with no conviction in her voice or expression.
"A joint dream? I'm voting no on that guess. What's your gut feeling?"
She sighed. "It's not a dream or hallucination."
"Well, I'm convinced we've traveled through time. I can't explain it but I can't refute it either."
"Same here." Maggie shifted from one foot to the other. "These shoes are killing me."
"Ah, the high price of fashion." He placed his arm under hers to give her a little support.
Maggie scanned the lobby from one end to the other without seeing anything else helpful. "As fascinating as all this is, maybe we should go back to the bungalow and start focusing on what we need to do to get back. Reynard said the five days begins today, which is practically over already."
His expression indicated how little he liked the idea of going back to the bungalow. "I think we should approach this as a book I want to write, which means a walk-around comes first. We need to observe the natives. I don't know about you but I could sure use a drink. Let's go see what the Amethyst Cave looked like, er, looks like now. You can get off your feet there."
They walked directly to where the entrance to the lounge was but were faced with a bamboo-paneled wall camouflaged by tropical plants in huge clay pots.
"I hear music," Maggie said, turning an ear toward the wall and frowning. "Maybe the entrance is from outside."
Noah listened for a moment then laughed. "I can't believe I forgot something very important about this era. I think we're in for another treat."
He held her hand as he walked up to the only completely unobstructed spot on the wall and knocked. A moment later a very small door opened just above Maggie's eye level. A man's eyes and nose appeared and he gave them a quick once-over. "Who sent you?"
Noah squeezed her hand and replied, "Teddy Roosevelt."
The small door closed and a full section of paneling slowly opened inward. Instantly live jazz music reached their ears and Noah gave her a nudge forward.
"Oh my gawd," she said as quietly as she could over the music. "It's a speakeasy! It really is 1927."
Except for the large crystal formations looking exactly like they had last seen them, they never would have recognized the Amethyst Cave. It was at least three times the size, filling the space where they had seen retail stores and the Quartz Caf�
�. In this time it had a bandstand and dance floor and full-size dining tables as well as cocktail rounds.
An excited shout rose from a crowd of people gathered at the far end of the room but Maggie couldn't see the cause.
Noah's greater height gave him an advantage. "It's a casino," he told her with delight. "I've never been much of a gambler but—"
"Will you be dining this evening?" a tuxedoed man holding menus asked them.
Maggie looked to Noah. She was feeling totally off balance while he seemed to have slid right into this alien world.
"We may have a little something," Noah said to the maître d' and they were guided to the only available table for two near the dance floor.
"You look like you belong here," she murmured close to his ear.
He winked at her and muttered out of the side of his mouth. "I'm just pretending I'm on a movie set for The Great Gatsby."
As they perused the menu, another man brought them two champagne glasses and filled them from an open bottle with a French label. "Courtesy of Al Jolson and Warner Brothers Pictures. They're celebrating the opening of The Jazz Singer and hope you'll make a point of experiencing the miracle of Vitaphone."
"Is Mr. Jolson here tonight?" Noah asked without even trying to appear nonchalant.
The waiter nodded toward the crowded dance floor but Maggie's gaze was glued to the man with the champagne bottle. His straight black hair was slicked back from his face, making his dark eyes stand out. The features seemed very familiar, as though she had recently seen him somewhere else. Her gaze dropped to his name tag. Connor. That was familiar too. But before she could grasp the memory, Noah took her attention.
"Do you see him?"
"I wouldn't know if I did," she replied. "Was he the one who wore blackface makeup when he sang? I have a vague recollection of learning about that in a music appreciation class."
He nodded. "Sure couldn't get away with that in our time. Anyway that just sounded like a movie plug. But geez, wouldn't it be incredible if we actually got to meet someone famous from this time?"
He chuckled as he picked up his champagne glass and held it toward her. She raised hers and lightly clinked the rims. "Here's to anything being possible."
They each took a sip and Maggie held up her glass for a toast of her own. "And to mysterious bellmen without whom we'd be in real trouble right now."
After another sip, Noah had another toast ready. "Here's to Maggie Harrison, my best friend from the past, my adventure partner in the present, and always, my heart's desire."
She blinked at him in awe. Did he really mean those words or were the outrageous circumstances to blame for such an emotional declaration? Nothing she was thinking would equal his words so she just smiled and took another sip that drained her glass.
When another waiter came by, Noah ordered an assortment of appetizers and a bottle of the champagne being passed around.
She was overwhelmed by the glitz and glamour filling every square foot of the high-class speakeasy. Reading a novel or watching a movie set in the Roaring Twenties only slightly prepared her for the real thing. Everyone seemed to be trying to be wilder and more flamboyant than the next person. The only unpleasant thing for Maggie was the amount of smoke in the air. They had barely been there half an hour and her eyes were already burning.
"Shall we?"
Only when Noah spoke did she realize he was standing with his hand out, asking her to dance. The band had just begun a slow song and the lights were dimmed to a romantic level. Once she confirmed the couples on the floor weren't moving in any way she couldn't emulate, she placed her hand in his and rose as gracefully as possible with cramped toes and a head full of champagne bubbles.
The moment he drew her into a proper yet clearly possessive embrace, she forgot all about her feet. His touch was all it took to melt away all her concerns. It didn't have to be sexual. They didn't need to be kissing. They certainly didn't need a perfect place or time.
The room seemed to darken even more and the other couples faded from her vision. It was only the two of them swaying to the sinuous tendrils of a saxophone's tale of forbidden love. She felt her breasts straining against its compression garment and immediately wished it could be his hands instead. Her gaze lifted to his and she thought she saw her desire being mirrored there.
With the merest pressure on her lower back, he brought their bodies together and her thought was confirmed. "I can't stop thinking about what you're wearing under this dress," he murmured in her ear. "There's just something about a garter belt and silk stockings with seams up the back that makes me want to take them off with my teeth."
Maggie felt a sudden chill and shivered. She quickly glanced all around them but nothing she saw felt connected to the chill.
With Noah's words echoing in her mind, she gave him a small smile. "I'd rather you tear this straight-jacket off my chest. It almost makes me forget how bad my feet hurt."
He kissed her forehead. "Poor baby. I promise to massage whatever body parts are being tortured by your clothing... as long as you give me a minute to drool over you in the garter belt first."
The chilling sensation ran up her spine and, this time, Noah noticed.
"What is it?" he murmured into her ear.
"Something's wrong. But I'm not sure what yet."
Right then, the lights abruptly glared and the band lurched into a lively number. Noah led Maggie off the floor, along with a few other couples, and the polished wood floor was taken over by Charleston-dancing flappers and their partners.
It was amazing to watch but not quite enough for her to banish the image Noah had planted in her mind. Appetizers and champagne had been delivered in their absence and her stomach growled at the sight. It was the only part of her not focused on sex.
Noah squeezed her hand and leaned close. "I've heard waiting can be a kind of foreplay."
She gave him a half-smile. "And I see oysters on that platter. They're supposed to help too."
He laughed. "Yeah, like we need a lot of help. Okay, let's not skip any of this experience."
"Well, maybe we could skip one or two." She pointed to the energetic dancers as they took their seats.
The music was much too loud to have a discussion so they gave up the attempt. It turned out they were hungry enough to finish off every appetizer in a short time and the champagne was the perfect accompaniment. But the third time he tried to refill her glass she stopped him.
"I'm already way past my limit. We still have some brainstorming to do tonight."
"My brain does not storm after the sun goes down." His hand slipped under the hem of her dress and fingered a garter. "We have something more physical to take care of tonight."
And bam, she was ready for him to follow through right there, on the table. And a heartbeat later she felt another warning chill. This one made her fingers icy. She was now quite sure what it was connected to. She subtly moved his warm hand with her cold one and leaned close enough for him to hear her serious tone. "We need to go back to the bungalow. Now."
A horse-drawn carriage was waiting outside the rear exit of the lobby, but Reynard was not the driver. All Maggie cared was that she wouldn't have to walk. As soon as they were settled in the passenger seat, Noah hugged her close and vigorously rubbed her bare arm. She felt her body begin to thaw in the short time it took for the carriage to reach their destination but the sense of warning remained strong. Noah quickly helped Maggie down and handed the man a dollar, which, based on the man's delighted reaction, was much more than necessary.
The moment they were inside the bungalow, Maggie took Noah's hand and led him into the bedroom. The look on his face was a strange combination of desire and concern. "I'll be right back," she promised, then hurried into the bathroom. As quickly as possible she removed the uncomfortable shoes and all the restrictive clothing, leaving on only the shorts and chemise. Over those she donned the seersucker wrap, tying it securely at the waist.
As soon as she exited th
e bathroom, she noticed he had undressed down to trousers and shirt but looked far from comfortable. When he took in how she was covered, his concerned expression turned to genuine worry.
"I can explain," she said quickly as she sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside her. "First, I want you to keep in mind that you are the only man I've known who can turn me to mush with a touch and make my body ready for sex with a kiss. And that I am really, really happy that we've become lovers."
He grinned and leaned toward her for a kiss but she pressed her fingers to his lips just hard enough to make him ease back.
"That was really hard for me to do," she confessed.
"Then why—"
"The chills. It wasn't cold in the lounge and there wasn't anything spooky around. It was a warning."
"A warning? Like something horrible is about to happen?"
She made a face. "Sort of, but only if we don't do what we were sent here to do. I got the distinct feeling that we were being warned that we could get distracted by... how you make me feel. To the point of failing."
He slowly nodded. "Correct that to how we make each other feel. It's always been that way for me."
"Always?" she asked softly.
"Always," he assured her. "And now that we've finally given in to it, whoever sent us here wants us to put it aside."
"It's only for five, no, four more days."
He rolled his eyes. "Hardly a blink of time in comparison to eighteen years."
She smiled and consoled herself with the idea that, if they don't succeed in their mission, at least they'd be stranded there together and could have all the sex they wanted. Unless that was one of the restrictions they'd have to live with. She refused to consider such a severe punishment on top of not being able to return to their own time.
"I'd like to suggest a compromise," Noah said. "Let's see if it'll pass your chill test. What if we go back to how affectionate we were in high school, you know, hand-holding, hugging, slow dancing?"
Some Time Away (Lovers in Time Series, Book 3): Time Travel Romance Page 13
