The Willfully Wedded Virgin (Beyond Fairytales)

by D. L. Jackson

  “Wait.”

  “Here’s an icon of our time. Baseball.” Best to stop bad habits before they got started. He flipped through the channels until he came to a game.

  Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I liked the other much better.”

  Of course she does. “You don’t want to watch the other. This is baseball. It’s all-American.”

  She snorted. “Well, I’m British, not American, so I think I’d rather watch the other channel.” She snatched the remote from his hand. “You can watch baseball when I’m done.”

  “This isn’t how it works in 2015. Men control the remote, and, sweetheart, you are American now. You married me.”

  “I’ve watched enough of these plays in a box to know you, William Davidson, are—how did they put it on that television?—full of shit. They wouldn’t make television for women if they didn’t mean for us to watch it.” She crossed her arms and glared. “I’m a quick learner.” She returned the channel to Lifetime.

  “You win. Just don’t get it in your head that that is how life really is in 2015.”

  “Pity. The scandals are positively delicious. I watched this channel while you were out procuring our equipment. Secret babies. Murder. Illicit affairs. So very exciting.” She sat up and tucked her legs under her.

  “Trust me, living it and watching it on television are two different things. I’ve seen more than my fair share of violence and blood baths in my line of work, and none of it is pretty. Not a big fan of shows that depict killing. They tend to glorify it. Murder is nothing but ugly.”

  Will caught himself staring at her thighs, thinking about joining her on the bed, just climbing right on there with her and showing her how great marriage could be. He twisted the band on his finger and jerked his attention back to her face. She didn’t want that, so he’d better jump off that train of thought.

  Which she shoved him right back on with her smile. Dimples and sparkling eyes. “I thought the gents who save the ladies rather dashing. Very romantic.”

  God help me. I want her.

  “Fine. Don’t look so serious about it.” She sighed and held the remote out to him. “Since you find it intolerable, I shall not subject you to it further.”

  Will shook his head. Good thing she couldn’t read his mind. She’d be tuned into a whole different station, one that included not just sighs, but moans and nails raking over his shoulders. “No, go ahead. I have work to do. I need to see if I can dig up more information about what happened to the expedit—”

  Elizabeth gasped.

  Crap. That’s what he got for letting his mind drift to places it shouldn’t go. “Never mind.”

  “I thought you were down here to find out what happened to your grandfather, but you’re investigating one of those gruesome crimes you mentioned, aren’t you? Our expedition. What happened to our party, Will?”

  He opened his mouth and shut it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he paced in front of the window. How the hell would he tell her the truth? How could he not? “Elizabeth, I—”

  “Something happened to my father. To everyone.” She slapped her hand over her heart. “To me,” she whispered.

  She could have grabbed his balls and twisted, and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as watching the pain crossing her face at that moment. “Your disappearance could have something to do with this.” He made an encompassing gesture. “With us.” He tried to tell himself it could be true, but he knew otherwise. And from her expression, she did, too.

  “But we don’t know that for sure, do we?” She hugged her body and stared at the floor.

  All he wanted to do was hold her, comfort her. Will walked up to her and sank onto the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her. “Whatever happened in the past, I intend to stop it if I can.” He stroked her hair. “Before you, all this was about solving a mystery. Now it’s more. It’s about saving lives.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. Six. Dinner time. Thinking about it, he realized he hadn’t eaten since that morning and, he assumed, neither had she. “Why don’t we take a break and get something to eat? A good meal in our stomachs will make it easier to come up with a plan.”

  She lifted her chin. “Promise you’ll save my father.”

  “I will do my best, but I still don’t know how all this works or if we can travel to your time at will. Does anything else factor into it? The moon or stars? I’m clueless about this ancient magic.”

  “We have to save him.”

  “I know.” He kissed her forehead.

  Doing the right thing wasn’t going to be easy. When he saved her in the past, he’d lose her in the present.

  ***

  Elizabeth peered at Will over her pisco. Salt lined the rim, and the taste had both a sweet and tart flavor. She’d only taken a few sips, but, already, a warmth flooded her core. She licked her lips. The drink also made her more….

  Several times in the last few minutes, she’d visualized Will tossing her on the restaurant table, yanking her shorts down, and having his wicked way with her. Wanton? Most definitely. More heat moved through her, but it had nothing to do with her drink. Elizabeth jerked her gaze off him and stared at an empty table next to them, studying the way the servers had set it, a safer thought to dwell on.

  “How is your dinner?”

  Elizabeth turned to her full plate. “Delicious.”

  “How do you know? You haven’t taken a bite since it arrived. If you want something else, we can reorder.”

  Oh, she wanted something else, but it wasn’t on the menu. His kiss after their vows had started it, the beverage had fueled it, and now she wanted to become Mrs. Davidson in every sense of the title.

  “Elizabeth?”

  She blinked.

  “You ought to eat something. The tequila in that drink will knock you on your ass if you don’t.”

  Too late. “I’m already half-rats, Mr. Davidson.” He screwed up his face, and she giggled. And she was more than willing to be on her derrière if he joined her. She picked up her fork and lifted a bite to her mouth, groaning the moment it made contact with her taste buds. “This is positively decadent. What did they call it again?” She stuffed another forkful in her mouth, and then another and another, unable to stop herself. Not really caring. A full mouth would keep her from saying something inappropriate. But would that really be wrong? They were married.

  “An enchilada.”

  “Mmff. Very good.” She crammed an extra-large bite in her mouth. A little juice escaped the corner of her mouth; not the least bit ladylike, but then again, her inhibitions seemed to have gone on holiday as the level of her beverage approached the bottom of her glass. When she went to scoop another forkful, most of the food had vanished. “Oh, dear. I quite made a pig of myself.”

  “I love a woman who’s not afraid to eat.”

  Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Well….” She lifted her napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth. “If truth be told, I haven’t eaten in a century.”

  Will tipped his head back and laughed. “Can’t argue with that. How do you feel now?”

  “Much better, but I fear I’ll be returning to a corset if I keep indulging like this. It’s a wonder all your women are not big as draft horses with meals like this.”

  “We have gyms.”

  “Gyms?” Well, if it could replace a corset, she simply needed to know more. “Tell me about them.”

  “A place where you go to exercise. Lift weights. Run. Swim. Sweat.”

  “How dreadful.” People actually went places to perspire?

  “Not really. It can be addictive. Speaking of which”—he stood and held out his hand— “we need to work off some of that alcohol. Would you like to dance?”

  “Now, there’s an exercise I’m fond of.” She took his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

  “You can thank my best friend for the dance lessons. His bridezilla had insisted the entire party take ballroom dance classes. Let’s salsa.” He pulled her in tight.

>   “Oh, Mr. Davidson, you dance close in this time. How positively wicked.”

  “You have no idea.” He winked and began to move them. “Follow my lead.”

  “Will?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s a bridezilla?”

  Chapter Nine

  What a night it had been. Dancing until dawn and then walking through the town, watching the sun rise over the cloud-capped mountains and jungle. Fortunately for Will, his bride couldn’t hold her liquor and had passed out as soon as they entered their room.

  He’d long ago decided he wouldn’t ruin her for a proper marriage in her own time. That meant keeping his hands off, something that became harder the more he got to know Elizabeth. Of course, in Peru, the divorce process took very little time, but that crossed a line. He wouldn’t use her and toss her away. Not raised to be that kind of guy. That meant, hands off.

  Will tightened the straps on his ruck, adjusting the way the weight sat on his shoulders. Not sure if his camp remained intact and his equipment hadn’t been pillaged, he’d opted to purchase more, costing him another two grand. Ever since he’d met Elizabeth Dodge—Mrs. Davidson—he’d blown through his cash like he had a never-ending supply. Which he didn’t. Yes, he still had a nice sum in the bank, but if he continued at the pace he was spending, it would be gone before he left South America.

  The funny thing about the spending spree was it didn’t bother him. For some reason, dropping the cash on her seemed right. He wanted to be her hero, her knight in shining armor. He wanted—

  Crap. Don’t go there.

  Elizabeth glanced over at him and smiled. His stomach knotted, and he shifted on his feet. Damn. Why did she have to look like that, standing there in khaki shorts, hiking boots, and a fitted tee? Her legs were long, stretching to the sky, complemented by a sexy, heart-shaped ass he’d checked out when she’d bent over to pack some of her new clothing. He would love to wrap those legs around his hips as he drove into her. He skimmed his gaze up her figure.

  Her waist seemed impossibly tiny, complementing a figure that had had him drooling from the moment she’d come out of the bathroom wearing 2015 like she owned the century. Swimsuit models couldn’t begin to compete with her. She had an honest-to-God figure. No implants or alterations under the knife, but kicking curves he struggled to keep his hands off of.

  “You’re damn pretty.” He smiled. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

  Her cheeks turned pink then scarlet, the color racing across her face and down her neck. “Not in that manner. Thank you, I think.”

  “You ready?”

  “As I ever will be, Mr. Davidson.”

  “Alrighty, let’s get this dog-and-pony show on the road.” He slammed the rear door on the rental and reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

  “We don’t have any dogs or ponies.” She screwed up her face. “So I’m going to assume that this is another of those expressions you’ve been trying to teach me?”

  “Yeah.” With comments like that, most would assume her an airhead. But he knew better. Tackling a different century than you’d grown up in, let alone the slang, had to be damned hard, but she was going at it like a trouper, trying the lingo and wearing the clothing even though she told him she felt indecent in it, all to blend in as he’d asked her to. “Figure of speech.”

  “Oh, then let’s take our hounds and horses and go.”

  “Great idea, Mrs. Davidson.”

  She blushed again and glanced at something off to the side, but only after she’d sneaked a peek at the area south of his belt. Only one thing down there, and after he’d checked her out, it had grown a bit...more pronounced. This could prove to be a very long trip.

  He reminded himself that he’d decided to keep his hands off his new bride. No point in getting attached since she didn’t plan to stick around. But it wasn’t an easy thing with her looking like breakfast, dinner, and dessert.

  “We’ll make camp where I set up before. It’s a day’s hike in. The guide who took me to the ruins marked the trail with plastic strips tied to the trees. Shouldn’t be too difficult to retrace my footsteps.” He nodded at the first branch where a bright pink streamer fluttered in the wind. “This way.”

  He started into the jungle, pulling her behind him. He stopped to move a branch out of the way and glanced over his shoulder. Her shirt stretched a bit tighter across her chest than he’d expected it would when he’d purchased what appeared to be a safe tee, and the once innocent garment had already ridden up, exposing her midsection. She hadn’t noticed, but, hoo-boy, a certain part of his anatomy sure had. It grew a tad bit harder, which he hadn’t believed possible before now.

  She reached up and lifted her hair off her neck. Her shirt went higher.

  Will swallowed. Make that a very long trip.

  Well, she certainly had to admit the clothes Will had given her for their trek into the jungle made the jaunt much more tolerable than her trip into the same jungle with her father one hundred and thirty years before. She’d worked them as she suspected a woman of this time would to garner the attention of her husband, but he didn’t seem to notice when she flashed the skin on her belly or bent over in front of him. She clearly had much more to learn about the fine art of seduction. Bally hell. Maybe she should reach up and lift her hair?

  He turned his head away so fast he could’ve broken his neck, and he’d already managed to put ten paces between them in the time it took her to grasp he’d completely missed her display.

  “You coming?” he called out to her without turning around.

  Elizabeth dropped the heavy mass and snorted. “Right behind you.”

  She followed him, picking her way along the path recently cut through the thick vegetation. Overhead, monkeys chattered. Steam rose from the jungle floor, and dew rolled off the leaves, soaking her legs and the tops of the socks peeking over her boots. Insects buzzed around her head just as they had one hundred years before.

  In her time, a man would have taken notice of the amount of skin she was giving Will to gander at, probably would have dropped dead at the sight. What did a modern woman have to do to get a man to kiss her again? To get his attention? Did it matter? He planned to send her home, and wasn’t that what she wanted?

  It would be hard to return to certain things in her life, including corsets. Even harder to leave the man she’d married behind in the future. Behind...in the future? Could that even be possible? Worse yet, how would she explain her marriage to a man who didn’t yet exist to her father? Oh dear. Elizabeth’s heart pounded, and wooziness settled in the pit of her stomach, making its way up her throat. She stumbled and caught herself by grabbing a vine. “Will?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can we stop and rest?” How could she explain any of this? Did she want to? What if she never saw him again? Maybe this going back to the past wasn’t such a good idea.

  “We’ve only been traveling five minutes. It will take us forever if we keep stopping every few hundred yards. You do want to go home, don’t you?”

  “I’m not certain if that’s what I want anymore.”

  He stopped. She bumped into him, not realizing she’d gained so much ground. The act both startled her and sent delicious jolts through her pelvis. Bally Hell. Just touching the man had her ready to dispose of her virtue.

  “Come again?”

  “I don’t know if I want to go. Well, I do want to save my father and friends, but….”

  He turned around. “I’m not following you.”

  “Of course you’re not. You’re walking ahead of me.”

  “I meant….” He eyed her. “Never mind. Why don’t you want to go back?”

  “Women here, in this time, have so much more liberty than where I’m from. When I watched the television this morning, I discovered the freedoms women have. Ladies are doctors and lawyers. They even own their own businesses. You have female bobbies, um, police officers. Women can vote and do anything we want to do. You have cart
oons and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups! How did my time survive without them? I don’t have that kind of freedom at home, and I don’t have….”

  He tipped his head slightly and lifted a brow. “You don’t have what?”

  “I don’t have you.” There. She’d said it. It hadn’t been hard to get used to the idea of Will in her life, but, after knowing him only a couple of days, even thinking about living without him made her nauseous. The whole situation she found herself in seemed preposterous.

  His smile was the kind the devil gave women to seduce them to sin. A knickers-dropping, heart-stopping, you’re-in-trouble kind of look. Elizabeth cleared her throat and studied the ground.

  “You really mean that.”

  “Yes. I find myself firmly attached to the idea of being your wife. Here. In your time.” She lifted her chin. “I want everything that comes with being your wife, Will. What I’m trying to say is, I want you.”

  His smile dropped. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

  “I’m not asking anything. I’m telling you what I want.”

  “When we get to camp, we’ll talk about it.”

  “No need to discuss further. When we get to camp, I want to be with you. This whole trip to the future can’t be an accident. In my heart, I know we’re meant to be together.” She sucked in a deep breath, her choice made. “I only want to return to save my father and say good-bye, tell him what happened to me, and then I want to live with you in the future and commit to this marriage. I want relations…the whole bit.”

  The muscle in his jaw twitched, and he nodded. “All right, but I want you to think on this while we hike to the campsite. You need to be damn certain you want to stay here and be my wife.” He returned his gaze to hers. “I take my vows very seriously, and there’s no undoing what’s been done once we’re together, do you understand? No divorce. I don’t work that way. If you have any doubts, you tell me when we arrive. Understand?”