Saving Lord Avingdale
Page 11
Affection and love warmed her heart until the organ threatened to explode. But right now she had to place these feelings aside, where she’d examine them later. Carson needed a good yelling at. That came first. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at the offender. “Privileged information. Ever heard of that?”
“Just like your access to Avingdale’s medical info while he was unconscious?”
“That’s different.”
“Oh, really?”
“His was a life or death case.”
“You being privy to that information wouldn’t have affected the outcome, though.”
He had her there, and he knew it by the grin on his face. “Fine,” she shot at him. “Still, you didn’t have to blab and lay it out in front of him like that.”
“I suspect he already knew.”
“He did,” Jonathan called out, his tone good-natured. “At least I think so. Your words are somewhat foreign to me.”
Carson waggled his brows at her. “See? No harm done.”
“This time. And I’ll have you know I don’t ignore my disorder. I’ve taken long-acting injectables to mitigate the worst of the anxiety and sensory problems. And for your information, I have received various therapies over the years. Just because I draw the line at receiving therapy now doesn’t mean I’m ignoring my ‘issues.’ I do what I need to function, and I’m fine with the way I am.” Well, mostly. Though she liked being alone, she’d gotten lonely on occasion. But Jonathan filled that hole in large part now.
Carson held up his hands. “Peace. You win.”
“Good.” Her gaze swung to Jonathan. “You have any questions?”
“Nothing pressing, but I’d later like to know more about your disorder and these injectables you mentioned.”
“Okay.” He still didn’t sound freaked out—a good sign—and what he wanted to know seemed reasonable. She could handle that.
After sitting back down by Jonathan, she regarded Carson. “How long before Intellitravel makes their final decision?”
He shrugged, and an apologetic grimace turned his lips downward. “I don’t know, kiddo.”
She sighed. “It’s a waiting game, then.”
“I’m afraid so,” Carson said.
Maryanne scowled and said, “Great,” at the same instance that Jonathan said, “Wonderful.”
“Are you two sure you aren’t at least engaged?”
“Carson!”
***
Jonathan’s knuckles were white, and it had nothing to do with his recent wound. Wagons—no, cars—sped past him at a dizzying pace. And he and Maryanne were still in what she called a parking lot. She’d laughed and said he’d see worse once they were on the streets. How could there be anything worse than this?
Though he’d chafed at being in the medical facility, he found himself wishing for its boredom-inducing sterility. Five days had passed since Carson’s visit, and the wonders of television and the Internet had grown stale. His full strength had nearly returned, and his wound pained him little, so he had thought himself ready to explore. When Carson had asked, “So, children, are you ready to break out of your prison yet?” he’d agreed readily to the outing. Now cursing Carson a thousand times over sounded like a wise choice.
He glanced over to Maryanne, who wore what she called a light spring jacket over a blouse and jeans. She looked at ease—more at ease in this world than she’d ever appeared in his. That thought almost stopped him short. Even if he could go back to his time and ensure his survival, would she be able to come with him? Would she even want to?
As for staying in her world permanently if he had a choice, he didn’t know. Modern Earth was a strange, wondrous place, but so foreign, he doubted he’d ever adapt fully to it. The clothes he wore—a polo shirt and jeans—were familiar in some ways, but completely different in others.
His uncomfortable musings died as they neared her car, and his previous worry filled his mind. He’d never been in a car before and was positive he wouldn’t like it.
She patted the little red vehicle fondly. “Here it is.” She opened the passenger-side door and said, “In you go.”
He folded himself into the small space, his mouth dry. “Are you certain this is a good idea?”
“Having second thoughts?” she teased, slipping behind the wheel.
“No.” He drew himself up straight, and the top of his head collided with the roof of the car.
“Good.” She reached across and pulled the seatbelt across him and snapped it into place. Her arm brushed his chest and sent warmth that had nothing to do with his injury hurtling through his veins.
When the engine purred to life, he startled and almost gave himself a concussion. Were vehicle roofs all this low? With a grimace, he rubbed his head. “I don’t think this is a very agreeable car.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s smaller than I’d imagined.”
A giggle bubbled from her. “I thought you’d be terrified.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Though Maryanne had said the town of Edgerton wasn’t as massive as cities such as New York City, the streets were far more horrendous then even he anticipated. He held onto the seat with an iron grip. When someone pulled in front of Maryanne and she honked the horn, his heart nearly burst out of his chest. They were going the die. Intellitravel didn’t have to do a thing.
Thankfully, he and Maryanne arrived at their destination—a little café with a park right across from it. He opened his door with a shaking hand before struggling to unfasten his seatbelt.
As he fought to free himself, she leaned back in her seat and stared at him. “So what did you think of your first car ride?”
“I think I’d prefer walking next time.”
“Surely, it wasn’t that bad?” Maryanne asked, climbing out of the car.
He hoisted himself from the vehicle, and nearly tumbled out onto his hands and knees in the parking lot. Leaning against the smooth surface of the car door, he managed to stop his downward descent. He breathed in deeply through his nose and let the air slowly leave his lungs by way of his mouth. His legs felt like jelly, and his brain had to resemble mush. However, he was alive and spending the day with Maryanne, so how could he complain about something as trivial as his mode of transportation?
Gentle hands on his arm brought him back to the current moment. Maryanne regarded him with concern shining in her lovely brown eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I am now, for I have a beautiful lady by my side.” As he said the words, he realized how true they were. He was a bit shaken, but with her touch calming him, he felt as if he could withstand anything.
She moved closer toward him, still holding onto his arm. “You sound like you almost mean that.”
“I’m being completely honest.” Lifting his free hand, he pushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in waves, which he loved, but he also wanted to enjoy the sight of her lovely eyes shining when she laughed or smiled.
Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips in a nervous gesture that he found adorable before she spoke. “What’s scary is I think you really are. Makes me wonder if you’re delusional. I’m no one’s idea of a beauty queen.”
“Yours is a subtle beauty, and one you rarely play up.”
“So you think I should do something…more with my appearance.”
Her uncertainty caused his chest to tighten. “No, you’re wonderful the way you are. No matter what you do or don’t do, your beauty is readily apparent to me.”
Surprise flitted across her face, a blush close on its heels. “I…I think most people would believe your eyesight sorely lacking.”
“I cannot say for certain what others see. I can only answer for myself.”
She leaned in even closer, something he knew was very rare from her, and said, “No one’s ever said anything like that to me.”
“I hope I’m not like everyone else.” He lowered his voice
to a silky softness that always seemed to have its desired effect on women.
Maryanne rewarded him with a shiver, her hands tightening on his arm. “I can say with assurance you’re like no one I’ve encountered.”
A chuckle, one that was too breathy for his comfort, escaped his throat. “Was that a compliment or something less flattering?”
“I don’t know for sure other than it’s the truth. I can’t describe you accurately. There aren’t the words for it and how you affect me.”
“I think you pay me the highest honor with your words.”
She shrugged her shoulders, glancing downward briefly. “I don’t know about that.”
He slipped a finger under her chin and urged it up so he could stare into her eyes. “You’re much too modest.”
“And you have enough confidence for the both of us.”
He couldn’t deny it. “That I do, and I won’t let you forget how beautiful you are to me in every way.” He slid his hand down to her shoulder and rested it there in the cradle it provided.
“Okay.”
Her response was so typically Maryanne, and he loved it. He loved her.
The breath froze in his lungs. He loved her? The idea used to be foreign, but it suddenly didn’t seem so anymore.
He knew he cared for her, so why not love? Over the last few days, he’d toyed with the idea, only to sweep it away as ridiculous. Now he examined the idea like a new gold piece he’d just discovered in his possession, taking careful inventory of each side. His affection for her was probably only a passing infatuation. But if so, why did it feel different than any passing fancy he’d experienced in the past? Even Miss Livington, the woman he and Correlton quarreled over years ago, had seemed but a pale remnant of what he felt for Maryanne.
“Why are you staring at me like that? You’re making me nervous. Say something.”
He snapped back to attention. His realization would have to bear more scrutiny at a later time. Smiling, he reached out and caressed her cheek. She no longer jerked back when he touched her, and that pleased him beyond words. “My thoughts preoccupied me for a bit. My apologies.”
Confusion and doubt shone on her face. “Okay. If you say so, but the way you were looking at me…” A tremor passed through her body, and seeped into his through the shared areas of their touch.
“How was I looking at you?” Anticipation and dread filled his stomach. Had he given everything away with one glance?
“Like you wanted to devour me, yet hold me safe at the same time. It looked violent, but it wasn’t…not really. I can’t explain it.”
He leaned down and whispered next to her ear, “What would you do if I told you that description was apt? Would you run?”
“I don’t think so. You might chase me.”
He laughed softy and raised his head to gaze at her. “You know me so well.”
“I’d like to know you better.” Heat crept over her neck and up her face. “The past few days have been wonderful, but I find myself wanting more. But I don’t know exactly what.”
As he quickly deciphered what she meant, he could feel the smile forming on his lips. He knew only too well what she probably craved. Though they couldn’t go that far, the perfect solution to appease her offered itself to him. “That can be remedied.”
Framing her face between his hands, he ran his thumbs in soothing circles over her skin. They stared into each other’s eyes until he lowered his head and her lids fluttered shut.
A gasp escaped her as he covered her lips with his. The kiss was slow and leisurely at first. He didn’t want to scare her and be too forward. The last thing he wanted was for her to bolt from him.
But he soon deepened the contact. Her mouth opened under the pressure of his, and his tongue dipped in. She sighed and placed her arms around his neck. Her tongue met his, tentatively exploring his mouth.
He moved his hands and banded them around her waist. The feel of her against him was glorious, but he wouldn’t dishonor her with a touch more familiar than this. Waiting would make their wedding night all the more sweet.
The thought was such a natural progression of his affection—no, love—for her that the notion of marriage didn’t make him chafe as he believed it would. In fact, marriage would ensure that the oddly bewitching lady remained by his side. What a marvelous prospect.
Finally, the need for a respite ended their kiss. She smiled at him, and he grinned back. This moment would last forever, if he had his way. To stay locked like this would be sublime.
A blaring horn cut through the trance that held them bound, and they jumped apart.
She stared at him with wide eyes before she burst out laughing. “Umm, wow, that was nice. I think we gave some people an eyeful.”
“You sound amused by that thought.”
“Not too many times I’ve gotten to do something like that.”
He frowned. “You mean you’ve done this before?”
“No, silly. And I think if anyone has a right to be concerned over someone else’s past, it’s me.”
“I can’t argue with that logic.”
“I’m glad you’re smart enough to admit it,” she said, a slight teasing tone to her voice but her face completely serious. “Shall we eat?”
He was hungry for another taste of her, but knew that wasn’t what she meant. Nodding, he took her arm and led them to the café.
Before she could open the door, he stopped her. “Please let me get that.”
After he guided her in and seated her, he glanced at his surroundings. Tables and chairs were artfully scattered around the space. The little restaurant’s brown décor had an understated elegance and sophistication he quite liked. But he enjoyed his company even more.
Their lunch proceeded in a most enjoyable manner. Talking to Maryanne was never a problem, and like most times, she made him laugh. The good food only added to the delight.
She glanced at his nearly empty plate. “I see someone liked their meal. The roast beef wrap was up to your standards?”
“I’ve no complaints. The food was quite good and the company stimulating, not to mention beautiful.”
Her tongue darted out to swipe at her lips in the nervous gesture he so adored. “Ahh, the same back at you. Well, except you’re not beautiful.”
“I should hope not,” he said with good-natured asperity.
“You’re handsome, but you know that.”
“I’ve been told I am by a few people.”
“I suspect it was by more than a few.”
He didn’t try to deny it, and instead grinned at her. As he stared at her, his heart thundered against his ribcage, and the overwhelming urge to ask for her hand in marriage pressed upon him.
But should he ask her now? He wasn’t prepared. But he somehow doubted he’d ever be if he waited for the perfect moment.
Yes, he’d do it and make her his. What an exhilarating, frightening prospect!
Then a thought intruded, and some of his joy died. Would she say yes to his suite? If she did, what would happen after that? Where would they build their life—here or in the past, where he should rightfully be dead? In fact, where he could still die in that era, if and when he arrived back.
The realization of his unsure future stung like a gaping wound. His love for Maryanne wouldn’t ensure a happy ending. Instead, an impersonal corporation held his fate in their hands, which wasn’t reassuring in the slightest.
Maryanne’s voice jarred him back to reality as she said, “Are you okay? You’re doing that staring thing again, but this time you look like you’re thinking about something unpleasant.”
“My apologies. I certainly wasn’t having unpleasant thoughts of you, though.”
She bit her lip. “It sure seemed like it.”
“My mind was preoccupied with future…matters.”
“Matters that concern me?”
He hesitated to tell all that was in his mind. “In a way.”
“What does that mean?”
The shrill ring of her cellphone caught them both off-guard. She grabbed her purse and fumbled for the small device. Her face clouded when she glanced at the screen. Holding the phone to her ear, she said, “Hello.”
The person on the other end talked for a bit. When Maryanne finally answered, her voice contained a subdued tone he didn’t like in the least. “Okay, we’ll be there as soon as possible.”
When she hung up, she looked at him. “That was Carson. We have to leave.”
“Why?” Though he didn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed at the interruption, a new sense of dread ate at him. All his doubts about the future came galloping back and threatened to mangle any hopes for a positive outcome.
Her lips settled into a grim line. “I’m not sure, but whatever it is can’t be good.”
Chapter 9
The tense trip back to Intellitravel’s complex seemed to stretch on to infinity for Maryanne. By the way Jonathan kept clenching his fists, she was relatively sure he felt the same. And this time, none of his behavior seemed to be attributable to the car ride. No, what preyed on his mind was the same thing that weighed on hers: Would they send Jonathan back to his death? Or would he be allowed to stay with her?
Once they got out of the vehicle, she found that worry didn’t cause Jonathan to leave his gentlemanly gestures in the dust. He took her arm and led her into the building. That was a definite plus—a man who was still courteous during times of stress.
After a few elevators, they reached their destination—Carson’s office. He hadn’t asked to meet them in Jonathan’s hospital room. This showed he probably wanted to meet them on neutral ground, which only skyrocketed Maryanne’s worry through the stratosphere.
Though Carson’s door was slightly ajar, she knocked, though she wanted nothing more than to crash into the room and find out what was going on. But polite manners, even in times of stress, had been ingrained into her.