“I will.” He left Connor in his office and crossed the indoor lists for Mark. The group had dispersed, and Mark was deep in conversation with Jerry.
“Are you ready to go?” Rob asked, nodding a greeting to Jerry. He finally realized they weren’t knights, but “reenactors.” Pretenders. The concept made him want to shake his head, but he refrained.
“Sure.” Mark shrugged. “But we never did get a chance to spar.”
“Another time. Connor offered me work. I’ll be spending quite a bit of time here.”
Jerry’s gaze swung from the young lady he had his eye on to Rob. “Wow, that’s great. I’d love to take lessons from you.”
“Me too, and it makes sense,” Mark added, with a thoughtful expression. “You fight like you’ve done it for real.”
“I have done it for real, and for my life.” Rob shot him a challenging look.
“Yeah, right,” Mark quipped. He and Jerry laughed as they made their way to the door.
“’Tis the truth.” Robley pushed the double doors open with some force, relishing the crisp, fresh air greeting him. “Now about that Harley—where might I find one for myself?”
CHAPTER SIX
Erin locked her car door and hurried into her apartment building. Poor Robley. He’d been alone all day and must be bored out of his mind, not to mention baffled by everything that had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours. After a quick shower and a change out of her scrubs, she’d take him out for Thai food and a 3-D movie. She couldn’t wait to see how he reacted to both. Hopefully she could find an action flick he’d enjoy, or maybe something animated. Would he go for a kid’s movie? She glanced at her watch—almost three thirty. Maybe they could walk around Lake Nokomis before dinner. He was probably used to a lot more activity.
She opened her door . . . and found her apartment empty. Her stomach dropped. Disappointment brought a sudden sting to her eyes. “Robley?” she called, moving through the apartment, knowing full well she wouldn’t find him. A quick check of his room confirmed her worst fears. He’d disappeared. Maybe he’d been returned to his own time. She wandered back to the living room. A book lay open and facedown on her coffee table. Drawing closer, she glanced at the title. And the cover. She snatched it up and slammed it shut. Yikes. What must he think? Had her erotica sent him fleeing back to his own time?
Her apartment door opened. She swung around with the book still in her hands. Robley strode in, all lit up with excitement like a neon light on steroids. His hair was a wild, tangled mess, and the boundless joy and excitement pulsing from him stole her breath. She scowled. “Where have you been?”
He glanced at the book in her hand, met her eyes and flashed her one of those double-dimpled, sexy grins. Her face heated. “This book is not mine.” She tossed the paperback onto the couch like it burned her fingers. “I’ve had a few roommates. One of them must’ve left it.”
“Aye? Well . . . judging by the color blooming upon your cheeks, you must’ve read it.” His gaze traveled all over her, pausing at her chest, then sliding to her mouth. He arched an eyebrow and met her eyes again. “Did you no’?”
She cleared her throat, embarrassment gripping her. “Are you really reading it?”
“I am, and you’ve just lost my place,” he complained, picking it up and flipping through the pages. “’Tis . . . it’s quite . . . instructive. Enlightening. Truly enlightening.”
She swallowed her gasp, and more heat suffused her. Only this time, the rise in temperature headed in an altogether different direction. “Where have you been, and what happened to your hair?”
He set the novel back on the coffee table. “Riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle,” he said, his tone filled with reverence. “Is there a way to find out how much money is left on True’s debit card?”
“Why?” She blinked, her head spinning.
“I want a Harley.”
His tone when he said the word Harley was so little-boy-at-Christmastime, she laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Kidding?”
“Surely you jest,” she replied, slipping into his mode of speech.
“Nay, er . . . no. Mark taught me how to drive his bike, and I desire one of my own. Now that I have work, I’ll need transport to and from.”
“Wait. What?” Stunned, she dropped to the couch and stared at him, totally dumbfounded. “I . . . I came home to an empty apartment, and . . . I thought you’d gone back to your century.” The sting in her eyes defied explanation. She blinked it away and bit her lower lip. “You’ve been here one freaking day. Twenty-four hours. One. Day.” She shook her head. “Are you telling me you have a . . . a job? You spent the day reading erotica, riding a Harley and looking for a job?” she managed to squeak out.
“This is my second day, lass, and I did not leave you,” he said softly.
“Well, obviously. Not that it matters one way or the other.” She shot up from her place and headed for the hall, or the hills, whichever came first. “What’s with the modern-day speech all of a sudden?”
“This is a modern-day world. I’m simply trying to fit in.”
“’Tis a modern-day world. I liked the ’tises and the ’twoulds.” She stomped down the hallway. “I’m gonna take a shower. I need a few minutes to . . . adjust. Do not leave this apartment.” The low, sexy rumble of his laughter skipped down her spine, leaving delicious shivers in its wake. She blew out a breath, grabbed her robe from the back of her bedroom door and crossed the hall to the bathroom. “You need to do anything in here before I shower?”
“I’m fine, babe.”
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. The book. He’d gotten that from the book. She might have to pack ’em all up and stow them in the basement. “My name is not babe,” she called out before slamming the door on another sexy chuckle. Why the heck was she so upset? Because you thought he needed you, that’s why. And clearly he does not. “It’s fine. I’m glad he’s independent. This just frees me up to concentrate on school and my own life,” she muttered to herself.
She twisted her braid on top of her head, fastening it with a clip, and stripped out of her hospital scrubs. Turning on the water, she waited for the hot to kick in. For all she knew, Robley already had plans for the evening and wouldn’t want to go to the movies and dinner with her. She hadn’t brought it up.
Erin stepped into the shower and let the hot water ease her tension enough so that she could think. Robley of clan MacKintosh was just one surprise after another. How could he have a job? He didn’t have a social security number or ID of any kind. Come to think of it, he was in the United States illegally. Besides that, why would he want a job when he only planned to stay for a month tops? She rinsed quickly, shut off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack. They hadn’t discussed money recently. Did he want to work because he feared he didn’t have enough to pay for his room and board?
She didn’t feel like reapplying her makeup, or going out for that matter. Things were all jumbled inside her, leaving her off-kilter. The disappointment she’d experienced when she thought he was gone for good was a warning. Don’t get attached. Don’t think he needs you, and for heaven’s sake, don’t begin to need him!
Pregnant women and their babies needed her. Wrapping herself up in her career worked for her, and that had to remain her focus. Erin slipped into her robe and crossed back to her room. She unclipped her hair so that her braid fell down her back. Then she rummaged through her dresser for something to wear.
Dressed in a dark-green Henley and blue jeans, she padded barefoot back to the living room. Robley sat on the couch, her erotic romance novel in front of his face. Gah! “How could you have a job, Robley? You’re not even in the system.”
“Explain the ‘system’ to me, lass.” He set aside the book and patted the couch beside him. “This is no’ the first I’ve heard of it this day
.”
She shrugged. “It’s the way our government keeps track of its citizens. When you’re born, you get a birth certificate and a social security number. Then, when you get older, those are the documents you need to hold a job and get a driver’s license. You can’t just drive a Harley around. You need a license and insurance.”
“Insurance?” His brow furrowed.
“It’s complicated, like the biggest Ponzi scheme ever, but you have to have it.”
“Ponzi scheme?”
Sighing, she sat beside him and put her feet on the coffee table. “That’s not important right now.”
“Your feet are bare.” His gaze fixed on them.
“So? You’ve never seen bare feet before?”
“Not yours.” He slid her a lopsided grin and winked. “They’re quite lovely.”
Her insides melted. She tucked her feet up on the couch. “The job. Tell me about the job.”
“Aye, we need to talk.”
Adrenaline shot through her. Heart racing and mouth dry, she nodded. This is where he tells me he’s going to go stay with Mark, Jerry or whomever.
“You know Connor McGladrey?”
“Sure.” She frowned.
“He’s from the past, sent here in much the same manner as Lady True, only by accident rather than by design.”
“Get out!”
He stood abruptly, hurt and confusion wafting from him. His face clouded. “I meant no offense, but if it pleases you, I’ll leave.”
“Oh. No. Sorry.” She tugged at his sleeve. “Sit back down. ‘Get out’ is just an expression of surprise. I wasn’t telling you to leave.” His relief swamped her. She’d done a fairly good job of tuning him out, but when he had such strong reactions, it was impossible.
“That makes no sense at all,” he muttered, taking his place again.
“There are a lot of things that make no sense,” she agreed. “Like people traveling through time. When is Connor from? How’d he get here? How’d you get here, for that matter?”
He shared what Connor had told him, and Erin took it all in, wondering how many people from the past or future might be lurking around her neighborhood. “OK, but you came on purpose, and you plan to go back. Connor is stuck. You’re not. How is that possible?”
“I formed a bargain with the same faerie who sent True to us. She gave me two tokens for my passage. One I used to get here; the other is for my return.”
Her treacherous heart wrenched at the “for my return” part. “What kind of token?”
“Do you wish to see it? ’Tis a crystal.”
She thought about what she knew of Connor and his family. So much made sense about the McGladreys now. It had been Connor and his wife who had started the reenactment group, and she knew he owned the fencing club. He’d managed to carve out a niche for himself in the present. She’d met his children at several club events. Connor made a good living and supported a family. Robley could do the same. He could make a life here—if he wanted.
She shook herself free of the notion. Wouldn’t happen. “Yeah, show me this token of yours.”
Robley reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. He placed it on her lap. “This is how I’ll return to my time, lass.”
She tugged the drawstrings open and dumped the crystal into her palm. “Jeez, do you have any idea what this is?”
“A crystal of some sort.”
“It’s an uncut diamond, and it’s huge.” Turning it over, she studied the gem resting in her palm. “I took a class in geology when I was in high school. My teacher had one, but his diamond was very small and of poor quality.” She held it up between her thumb and a finger. “This has got to be at least ten to fifteen karats. It’s worth a fortune.” She slid it back into the pouch and handed it to Robley. If he stayed, he’d certainly have a nice little financial cushion to start with, without having to do anything but find a buyer. “You had two of these? Did you tell Connor?”
“Nay. I did no’ want to upset him. He’s settled, happy, and he has a wife and family. Best no’ stir the pot, as True would say.”
“I agree.” Rubbing both her palms along her jeans, she scrambled to pull all the facts together. “So, I’m guessing Mark took you to play with swords today. You met Connor. He saw you in action and offered you a job. He intends to pay you under the table, and by under the table I mean in cash.”
“Aye.” He slid his arm around her shoulder and squeezed the steady right out of her heartbeat. “You are a canny lass.”
“And now you’re jonesing for a Harley.”
He chuckled, giving her another heart-stopping hug. “If by jonesing you mean I want one of my own, then aye. I’m jonesing for a Harley.”
Lord, he smelled good, and man, did it feel wonderful having his arms around her. He took his arms back, and she felt deprived, achy. She always felt too much, and it had always been her cross to bear.
“Connor wants us to come to dinner soon. He can help me get into the system, with a birth certificate, driver’s license and anything else I need.”
“Why would you want all of that if you intend to leave after a month?” She shot off the couch, heading for the kitchen. “More than likely it’ll take longer than thirty days to pull everything together.” She stopped, turning back to throw her hands up in the air. “Who spends upward of ten thousand dollars for a motorcycle they’ll only own for a few weeks?”
“Mayhap I’ll stay longer.”
And there went the floor from under her feet. “I don’t feel like going out tonight. Is it all right with you if we stay in?”
“’Twould be delightful to stay in with you tonight, babe.”
A little too close to hysteria, she stifled the laugh bubbling up her throat. A fifteenth-century knight was living with her in her apartment, reading erotica and calling her babe. Impossible. Incredible. Mind-altering and heart-threatening, this gorgeous man was turning her life upside down. “I’m going to take you to a Harley Davidson dealer on my day off. We’re going to buy you an official black leather Harley jacket complete with a big fat logo embroidered on the front and the back. What do you think of that?”
“Hmm. We’ll purchase two. One for each of us.”
Happiness tugged at her heart, and she couldn’t keep the goofy smile off her face. “If you insist.”
“Erin?”
“Yes?”
“When might we go to dinner at Connor’s?”
“Wednesday evening would be good. I have the day off, but I have to work a night shift. I don’t start until ten though.” She walked to the fridge.
“What might a shift be?” he called after her.
“I’m a nurse, a health-care provider, and I’m working toward my midwife certification. That’s why I’m in school. Are you hungry?” When he didn’t answer, she leaned around the kitchen cabinets to see what he was up to.
Deep in thought, he’d leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees and his chin resting on his thumbs. Tapping his steepled fingers against his lips, he stared out at nothing, a slight frown on his face. “What’s wrong, sir knight?”
“Hmm?” He glanced at her. “No’ a thing.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Always, babe.” He flopped back on the couch and scrubbed his face with both hands.
She let the “babe” thing go. For now. Clearly something was bothering him, and he didn’t want to share it with her. Sighing, she rooted around in her freezer for the container of chicken noodle soup she’d made a couple weeks ago. Soup and grilled cheese, perfect for a day like today. The temperature had dropped considerably. Her favorite kind of weather—crisp, cool air and warm sunshine. Rob had worked out today. She’d better make two sandwiches for him.
She set the glass bowl in the microwave to heat the soup and gathered what she needed to
make the sandwiches. “Is it all right with you if I put some music on?”
“Um . . .”
“Something easy on the ears this time. I promise.”
“If you wish.”
She crossed the living room to her iPod dock and scrolled through her library until she found some Celtic music. Selecting the playlist, she hit play, and soft harp and flute music filled the room. “OK?”
“OK.” He nodded and picked up the book.
Erin busied herself with dinner preparations and soon had everything ready. She set a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches at the center of the table, followed by two steaming bowls of hearty soup, and a dish of sliced apples. “Come and get it.”
Robley slid into his chair and rubbed his hands together. “This smells and looks delicious, Erin. My thanks.” He took one of the sandwiches and transferred it to his plate. “That reminds me. I’ve no’ yet paid you for my room and board. Name your price.”
A burden lifted from her shoulders. “My rent is roughly a thousand dollars a month. If you pay me half the rent, plus two hundred for food, that comes to seven hundred for the month. Does that sound fair?”
“Aye. That sounds fair enough. Take it from the debit card.” He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Do you ken how most women die in my century? And well before their time, I might add.”
“The plague?” Had this been what put the serious in his body language a while ago?
“Nay.” He flashed her a look of such intensity. “Most die—”
“Oh wait. I do know this. We had to take a class on the history of midwifery early in the program. Childbirth is the leading cause of death for women in your era. It’s tragic, and I wish there was something I could do about it, but—”
“Do you?” He stilled, scrutinizing her.
“Sure.” She shrugged. “But my life is here, and here is where I intend to stay. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. I’m so close to finishing my program. I have less than three months to go.” She leaned back in her chair and put her spoon down.
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