by Debi Wilder
A cloud passed over the moon, casting the room into momentary darkness.
Victoria, have you finally really come back to me? Garrett stood in the shadows watching CJ. The moonlight shimmered off her honey colored hair like glistening snow. How can this be? This woman from the future cannot be my beloved Victoria. Once condemned, always condemned.
“You look beautiful, Mistress Jameson.” Garrett now stood only an arm’s length from her. All he had to do was reach out, take her in his arms and love her like he did a hundred years ago. He just couldn’t shake the feeling his heart believed CJ and Victoria were one in the same, even though his mind told him it was impossible for such a thing to happen. “The color and fit suits you.”
“Yes, perfectly. A little too perfectly, if you ask me.” She turned from the window to face him in the shadows. The shadows he clung miserably too all these years. Now all he wanted to do was reach out in the light of day and feel once again. Feel Victoria’s love, her soft body and sweet innocence…innocence she was denied before her time.
Garrett shook off the feeling and walked through the shadows towards CJ. “I am at a loss at what you mean, Mistress Jameson.”
“Would you stop calling me that? It makes me feel like a woman from hundreds of years ago.” Cassandra stepped out of the moonlight, away from Garrett’s dark shadow. “Either call me CJ or by my given name…Cassandra.”
Cassandra. Her name like sweet honey filled him with warmth. “As you wish…Cassandra.” Garrett took Cassandra by the elbow, smiling when she flinched at his touch.
“Listen, Mr. Alexander…” She turned her head from him, the moonlight falling upon the small half-moon mark at her temple.
“You must call me Garrett,” He pulled her gently to her feet and led her toward the door. “No need to worry, Cassandra. I won’t hurt you.” How could I when I’ve loved no other for a life time?
He led her around the bed as the lantern lost its light, enveloping them in the moonlight.
Chapter 9
Cassandra couldn’t shake the cold spot on her elbow where Garrett’s fingers touched her through the silky sleeve. “Mr. Alexander…Garrett…what became of my clothes? I’d like to put them back on if you don’t mind.”
He stopped inches from her, just short of the doorway, than turned around slowly. “You don’t like the gown?”
“No, it’s not that at all, it’s beautiful. I’d just feel more comfortable in my own clothes.” Damn! He’s too sexy for his own good. If only I could remember he’s not the nice guy he appears to be. After all, nice guys wouldn’t go along with a kidnapping, joke or not…but a mysterious, sexy, dangerous man would.
“It was made for you.” His breath played upon her ear, sending heat waves through her mind.
Made for me? “That’s not possible.” She felt him stiffen, and then unlatched the door. Would he have revealed Paige’s deception if I’d played along with him a little longer? Could I have convinced him to tell me where Paige is and why she put me through the past few hours? Probably not.
“Your clothes…are not suitable here.” Garrett led her through the door into the darkness of the outer room.
The aroma of rich chocolate assaulted her senses as she stepped further into the room. Deep, rich and enticing enough to make a person drool with desire for the delightful taste. What she wouldn’t give for a piece of candy to ease the hunger twinges pinching her stomach.
“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with my clothes.” Cassandra sensed him leave her side before she felt the absence of his hand. Enveloped in the darkness, the room seemed familiar in a way. She walked around in the dark until she reached one of the multi-paned windows. She reached to push aside the covering when a lantern came on, drawing her attention from the covering.
“I paid a pretty penny for that peasant blouse and I’d like to have it and my other garments back.” She strolled around the shop, taking in every bit she could. Nothing on the shelves were the same as the items they’d had delivered just a few days ago, only the layout seemed the same.
“What happened to the stock we had on the shelves? I can’t believe Paige would have it all removed just for this little joke of hers. And what is that God awful smell?”
“Cassandra, this is not what you believe it to be.” Garrett moved as though gliding toward her. His face framed by long, dark hair continued to hide his features from her sight. “Whale oil.”
If she could get a good look at his face then and only then would she have something to give the police artist when she turned him in for kidnapping her. Besides, with a deep sultry voice like his, he had to be absolutely a hunk. He could have a face she could use in future fantasies. Maybe I should find out what kind of body he has too. Kinda feel my way, accidentally on purpose, of course.
“Sure it is…all I have to do is find all the various toys Paige has hidden away.” She went from shelf-to-shelf looking for everything from flavored lubrication to latex penis looking vibrators designed to give a woman the illusion of the real thing. Well, all but the rolling off because he’s finished and you’re not.
“Toys? You’ll find nothing but the best chocolate imported from England in my shop.” He stood behind her, following her every move. His nearness flooded her body with heat, sending her pussy into vibrations of its own. No man had gotten that kind of reaction from her before, unless you count a fantasy lover of course. Figments of her overactive imagination didn’t count, so she was still ahead of a man’s sex games with a woman.
She swung around to get a good look at his face, but he moved just as swiftly in the opposite direction. “Have we met before? Your voice has a familiar ring to it. And your eyes, they hold a desire I’ve only imagined in my dreams.”
“No, I don’t believe we’ve met before this.” He slipped into his cloak, pulling his hat further down to cover his face. “I’m going to the Dragon’s Breath for a bite to eat, would you care to accompany me or don’t you eat supper?”
She hadn’t eaten in at least twenty-four hours and the mere mention of food brought her thoughts to filling her stomach. “I am hungry. One problem, I don’t have any money with me.”
“Your currency wouldn’t be of any use here anyway. You’ll be my guest.”
Cassandra caught the smaller black hooded cloak he tossed her way. A sensation of intimacy overwhelmed her as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. It felt like a favorite blanket wrapped warmly around her, protecting her from things that went bump in the night.
Cassandra followed Garrett into the night with the cloak wrapped tightly around her to ward off the dampness. A light fog hovered around the lamp posts and buildings, giving the street a ghostly feel. Oil lamp posts and buildings with hand painted signs hanging above their doorstep lay out before them. As many times as she’d walked the street she couldn’t remember seeing the old fashioned signage. Funny how a person can be so unaware of their daily surroundings.
“You must protect yourself, Victoria.” Garrett pulled the hood over her head then walked out onto the street.
Victoria? Who’s Victoria? Cassandra stepped up beside him, halting after only a few clicks of the boots upon street. I don’t remember the cement making that kind of noise when you walk on it. Curious, she knelt down to find a street make of cobblestone. The stones, smooth and cool against her fingertips, were moist from the night dew.
“Cassandra, we really mustn’t doddle.” His voice mere inches from her face, sounded as if he stood yards away from her.
She grasped his outstretched hand with her own, allowing herself to be pulled up. His hand slipped from hers, allowing the night’s chill to cover her skin. She strolled along next to him, her head bowed watching the cobblestone road move along. She couldn’t keep her eyes off their feet as they walked along. When did they redo the road with cobblestones? I don’t remember any notice from the city regarding historical restoration being scheduled.
“You must keep up, or be lost among the shadows of the n
ight, Cassandra.” His voice deep with warning, caused her to keep in step with his long stride. His long legs carried him easily, while her two steps to his one began to tire her.
“Garrett, must you walk so fast? I’ve got a side-ache and if we continue at this pace…” She felt his hand upon her wrist, pulling her deeper into the night’s shadows. “Garrett, are we almost there?”
“Just around the corner, three doors and we’ll be out of the shadows.” He said in a near whisper.
Cassandra felt she was at a near jog as the corner drew closer. As they rounded the corner, there hung the wooden painted sign for the Dragon’s Breath. The glow of the lamps illuminated the windows; a warm invitation to her chilled bones.
If Garrett made it through the rest of the night it would be a miracle. Magic, white or black, didn’t matter. What did matter was whether a person was accused of performing it, even if they were innocent of the accusation. People were afraid of the unknown, and that fear spawned otherwise peace loving people to do things against their nature. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought Cassandra here, the one place his and Victoria’s kind had once found sanctuary in.
Garrett mentally shook his head. I’ve got to stop remembering this now, before something happens to an innocent. Cassandra doesn’t deserve to die that way, no more than Victoria did.
With a deep breath Garrett pushed open the tavern door, allowing Cassandra to go in before him. He felt himself draw in a breath as she slid the hood off her head. The glow of the whale oil lamps warmed her hair to a golden honey color. How he’d love to feel the strands of softness land playfully on his cock.
“Garrett, my man. Where have you been keeping yourself?” The sultry voice coming from the corner near the fireplace belonged to an old friend. Russell Canterbury had been at his side when Victoria died. Neither of them had aged over the past hundred years since the burnings, yet no one seemed to take notice.
“Russell,” Garrett nodded, guiding Cassandra to a table. “I’ve been…preoccupied,” he answered, helping her out of the cloak.
Russell’s cocked smile and evaluation of Cassandra sent a surge of hot jealousy through Garrett. Where the hell did that come from? Because she may be the reincarnation of Victoria doesn’t mean she’ll remember what we once were to each other.
He motioned for Cassandra to take a seat in the shadowed corner, her back against the wall, then removed his own coat and hat. For the first time since Cassandra’s arrival he exposed himself to her. He prayed with her 21st Century manners, she wouldn’t make a fuss and expose him to the rest of the tavern’s patrons.
Chapter 10
Where in the hell am I? Cassandra felt as if she’d stepped onto the set for some movie around the time of the American Revolution in a seedy part of town. She felt Garrett’s hand once again take her elbow, then usher her toward a table near the fireplace. An open hearth, with no screen to keep the embers from popping out onto the floor or the people passing near it? Don’t these people know they could burn the place down being so careless?
“…I’ve been…preoccupied.” She heard Garrett say to a man sitting in the shadows from the fireplace flames. A man who’s piercing chocolate brown eyes sent shivers through her. She didn’t have a good feeling about the stranger, nor the way he looked at her. He assessed her at little too openly for God only knew what, and Garrett didn’t seem to want her to be anywhere close to the man. He’d placed himself squarely in front of her.
She was more than happy to stay at his side, under his protection…for the time being any way. Maybe with a little luck, Garrett would make a possessive move with her. Then again, with the luck she’d been having lately it was highly unlikely he’d even show an ounce of possessiveness.
She sighed deeply, knowing once Mr. Creepy left the building, she’d be on her own. Too bad, she enjoyed the way Garrett’s closeness set her body in spurts of lust.
“Please, Cassandra,” Garrett said, slipping the cloak from her shoulders, “sit down.”
“Garrett, where are we?” Looking around the candle lit room she did as Garrett directed and sat down. “What is this place?”
Garrett draped his cloak over hers, placing his hat in the seat of the chair.
“This is the Dragon’s Breath Roadhouse and a meeting place for others like me.”
For the first time since she’d woke tied to his bed, she could see more of his face framed by black hair ending just a few inches past his collar. The intensity of the flickering shadows upon his chiseled features both excited and frightened her. She wasn’t sure if she should run out the door now, or stay and play out the rest of the game. He was a twin to her fantasy lover…a identical twin.
“Like you? What does that mean Garrett? Are you a wanted man or something?” Peering intently through those playful shadows, she still couldn’t get a clear enough look at his face to make out any expressions. He’d been very clever choosing a table in the corner. If nothing else, she’d gotten out of that room of captivity. If needed, she could always scream foul and have the bartender call the cops.
So what stopped her from doing just that? Hells bells, she groaned. I don’t want to get Paige arrested too. After all, she orchestrated this entire thing and would be held accountable by the police.
“Cassandra, we must be very careful tonight.” Garrett spoke only loud enough for her to hear him.
Cassandra leaned forward so Garrett could hear her clearly, but not close enough for her to see his eyes. She wasn’t about to let his edge of a threat scare her. “Where am I, Garrett? Is this a movie set? Are you an actor in some historical film on the American Revolution?”
“The year is 1792, well after the British army left these shores.” Garrett sat further back in his chair, if at all possible. For a man who had been only inches from her not that long ago, he now maintained his distance quite well.
“What’ll ye have?” Cassandra looked to the direction of the words and got an eyeful of an 18th Century Hooter’s version of a waitress. The full-figured woman’s face looked as if it hadn’t seen a bar of soap in days. A little bit of makeup and moisturizer would do wonders for the woman’s face, possibly even erase some of the deep lines around her eyes.
“I…” Cassandra began, grimacing from the pressure of Garrett’s hand squeezing her thigh muscle tightly.
“Two pints of ale and a plate of roast potatoes,” Garrett instructed the woman. “With some bread, too.”
The pressure on Cassandra’s thigh released when the woman turned and walked away. “If you’d given me a menu to look at I could have ordered for myself. Potatoes and bread are full of…”
Garrett let out a sigh sounding more like a whoosh than any thing else. “After we supper here, I’ll explain everything to you. Once we return to my shop, you’ll come to understand.”
A shadow darkened their entire table. “Understand what, Alexander?”
Great. “I am only trying to explain to the young woman the difference between her culture and that of ours.” Damn! Canterbury has no business at this table. He knows I won’t confront him and draw attention to myself here.
Canterbury pulled out an empty chair and seated himself at the table. “Is that what you call it these days? I remember when you had a more…direct approach, Garrett.”
“Those days are gone, Russell.” Garrett crossed his arms. If an attack were to come he wanted to be able to ward it off. An assault on his body wouldn’t do much harm, but his retaliation would…even to Canterbury.
“Ah, yes. It is a pity, too, don’t you agree?” He looked from Garret to Cassandra, licking the corner of his mouth. “Are you going to introduce me to your lovely companion, Garrett?” The surge of possessive jealously surprised Garrett as Canterbury pulled his chair within inches of Cassandra.
Garrett would love nothing more than to show his old friend he’d gone too far. All that would accomplish is unwanted attention to them, and they’d worked too hard to blend into each society as it developed.
Come on, Garrett. What’s stopping you? Afraid she’ll want me and not you?
“Lady Jameson, I’d like you to meet Mr. Russell Canterbury. An old friend from another life.” Damn it, Russell. Stop this before someone becomes wise to us. “Lady Jameson has just arrived this evening; she needs to take supper and then retire. I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear talk of days gone by, Russell.”
She could be Victoria, couldn’t she, Garrett? Complete with the mark of the half-moon at her hairline. Russell turned his attention back to Cassandra, pissing Garrett off with the implication. There were times he wished he wasn't able to communicate with Russell without spoken words.
“Lady Jameson, I hope your trip was a pleasant one. I’m quite sure…”
“I’d love nothing more than to hear your stories, Mr. Canterbury.” Her words reached Garrett, causing his heart to beat with anxiety. She’d just opened herself up to a world she may wish she’d never stepped into. “Garrett is so closed mouth about things, I’ve wondered if he’s a mass murderer on the run. Would you care to join us for supper?”
Garrett reached over, gripping her arm in his hand. “Believe me when I say you’d be very bored with Russell’s stories. They usually become more of a piece of fiction than fact. I wouldn’t want to embarrass him in front of a perfect stranger.”
Go home, Russell. Maybe on the way you’ll find some young unsuspecting woman to warm your bed. Garrett peered across the table until his eyes held those of the man sitting across from him. Friend or not, he wouldn’t allow Canterbury the pleasure of attempting to seduce Cassandra.
As luck would have it, Garrett, she’s more of your taste than mine. I can smell the sexual power on her and I prefer sweet and pure.
Garrett smiled. It pleased him to see his old friend nod in recognition of the warning, letting the twinkle of lust die back into their dark chambers until he walked back out into the street.
