Keeper of the Key

by Barbara Christopher

  Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

  She drew in a quick breath and looked over her shoulder, hoping to see Caleb pleading with her not to sign. His stern expression and pursed lips indicated that the order hadn’t come from him. Yet, it sounded like his voice. Had she read his thoughts again?

  Becci laid the pen down and stepped back. “I’ll wait. What difference does a day make among friends?”

  She didn’t miss Michael’s flushed cheeks or the anger that once again flared into his eyes. Without a word, he snatched the papers off the table and stuffed them back into his coat pocket. He paused beside Caleb on his way out.

  “You haven’t won yet, Harrison. You won’t get the medallion. It’s mine. The gold, the medallion—all of it is mine.” Ascott spoke in a barely audible whisper, but Caleb had no trouble hearing him.

  His stomach churned, but years of practice kept his face devoid of emotion. He didn’t miss the challenging glare in Ascott’s dark eyes, nor did he fail to hear it in his words. Michael Ascott had tipped his hand. Caleb held the man’s gaze until the man pivoted away and stormed out of the room.

  The front door closed with a loud crack, and moments later the sound of flying gravel marked his departure. Caleb drew in a deep, calming breath. He couldn’t let Ascott get the gold or the medallion. Becci needed one, and he needed the other.

  Caleb raked his hand through his hair. He dumped the last of his cold coffee down the drain and set his cup in the sink.

  “We have furniture to clean and a room to whitewash,” he said heading toward the door. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. I’ll finish upstairs while you prepare the evening meal.”

  Caleb caught the door frame and faced Becci. “Thank you for standing by your invitation. I’ll try not to let you down. As I told you before, I’m not knowledgeable about the modern-day practices involved with parties, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to mingle with these people. If they ask about my past, how will I answer them?”

  “Honestly. However, I suggest you leave out the dates, and don’t get into a discussion about any modern-day equipment such as computers,” she said, laughter lacing her voice. “I’d hate for one of the guests to call for a padded-wagon and a straitjacket.”

  He grew quiet, and his smile faded. Becci caught his arm and raised up on her tiptoes to brush a quick kiss against his lips.

  When Caleb pulled away, her heart plummeted. Did he hate her so much he couldn’t stand for her to even touch him now? She glanced up and gasped at the pain clearly etching Caleb’s face.

  “What wrong? What did I do?”

  “Nothing. I had a little tussle with a nest of yellow jackets today, but I’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure?” She cupped her hand to his cheek. “You’ve got a fever.”

  Before he could answer, Becci whirled away, grabbed the aspirin bottle out of the cabinet, and popped open the top. “Here, take these,” she ordered as she caught his hand, shook out two tablets, and shoved a glass of water in his other hand.

  “You might as well do as she says. Unless you’re allergic to aspirin they won’t hurt you, and they will reduce the fever,” Lilly supplied.

  Caleb shrugged and tossed the pills into his mouth, grimacing at their taste. He quickly drank two glasses of water, but the bitter taste remained in his mouth.

  “Do I need to call a doctor? Have you ever been stung before?” Concern glistened in Becci’s green eyes, as she caught his wrist and pressed her fingers against his pulse. Her gentle touch created a fire in him that had nothing to do with the fever heating his body. He’d never had anyone worry over him. He glanced at Lilly, who seemed nearly as worried as Becci, then fixed his gaze back on Becci.

  “Mary Rebecca, I’m fine,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice even. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had a run in with a nest of yellow jackets. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

  “No,” Becci snapped. “Aunt Lilly, please get the antihistamine capsules and the calamine lotion out of the medicine cabinet.”

  “Yes, dear. I’ll bring some cotton balls too,” Lilly said as hurried toward the back of the house.

  “You,” she said pointing a finger at his chest, “get that shirt off so I can examine you.”

  He worked the buttons free without looking away, shrugged out of the shirt and laid it over his arm.

  “Sit,” she ordered, whirling a chair around for him to sit in. Again he followed her orders without speaking.

  Becci examined the angry welts on his chest.

  “Oh, Caleb.” She feathered her fingertips over them. Then she slowly lowered her head and brushed her lips to the red, swollen area. She felt Caleb tense, then relax. She followed a path over his chest sprinkling soft kisses on the other welts.

  “Becci.” He ground out her name.

  She forced herself to move away. Her hands were trembling, and her breath raced nearly as fast as her heart pounded. What in the world had gotten into her? She’d never been so forward in her life. She’d seen the pain in his eyes and had wanted to take it as her own.

  “I think there are a couple more places on my back,” he whispered huskily. He caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger and turned her head until she could see his face. There was no teasing glint in his eyes, only a deep heated desire. “Maybe you could tend them later.”

  Lilly entered the room, saving her from having to reply. Becci stepped away from his touch. Opening the bottle of lotion her aunt handed her, she soaked a cotton ball with the thick pink liquid while Lilly filled his water glass and handed him two antihistamine capsules.

  “I’ll p-put this on the ones you can’t reach,” she stammered as she stepped around him.

  She dabbed each welt, closed the bottle and handed it to Caleb along with a clean cotton ball. After inspecting the soft puff carefully, Caleb did as Becci had done—saturated the cotton and doctored the places on his chest, arm and hand.

  He’d enjoyed the feel of Becci’s hands caressing his back, but he’d loved the way she’d kissed his injuries. Lord, he wanted her to finish what she’d started. He wanted her to kiss him all over.

  He stood and cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Maybe you should lie down. I’ll check on you in a little while just to be sure you’re okay,” Becci called after him as he headed toward the hallway.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  Becci wanted to shout that it was necessary, but she knew he was right.

  He glanced back at her, and his lips twitched into the crooked smile she’d grown accustomed to seeing. He nodded and disappeared through the door.

  Becci dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Oh, Aunt Lilly, what am I going to do? I think I’m falling in love with him. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. Yet, like everyone else, the gold is all he’s interested in.”

  “That’s not true,” Lilly replied hastily. “He would never let gold come between him and what he feels is right.”

  Becci lowered her hands to her lap. “But that’s just it. He thinks that crazy medallion is the only solution to his problems.”

  Lilly caught Becci by the chin and lifted her face so she had to look her aunt in the eye. “Becci, he thinks the medallion is the key to the time lock—and according to the journals, he’s right.”

  “I need that medallion as much as he does. Besides, he wants it so he can go take care of another woman and her son.”

  “You’re right. He does, but that’s because he’s a man of his word. He made a promise, and he must keep it. Trust him, Becci. According to the journal there should be enough wealth in this house to keep both of you for the rest of your lives. He’ll leave you what he can.”

 
“The amount doesn’t matter. I don’t want him to have it because I don’t want him to leave,” Becci admitted. “Even if it means giving up the nursery.”

  Lilly wrapped her in a soothing hug. “He might come back. Whatever happens, you’ve got to believe it’s for the best. But Caleb Harrison has no choice. He has to go home.”

  “To Rebecca,” Becci snapped. The flare of jealousy hit so fast she couldn’t keep the harshness out of her voice.

  “Yes, to Rebecca,” Lilly agreed. “Not because he loves her, but to keep the promise he made to her and Luke. He promised he’d take care of them, and he’ll keep his word, no matter what it costs him. You wouldn’t want him any other way, and you know it.”

  CALEB SHRUGGED into his shirt and tucked it in while he listened to Lilly’s and Becci’s muffled voices flutter up from the kitchen. Sweat trickled down his back even though the air conditioner kept the house cool.

  The fever. No, nerves.

  And he could blame it all on Becci’s soothing touch. She’d eased the pain of the stings, but she’d unwittingly caused another kind of ache.

  He had to forget about his carnal desire and concentrate on getting home. This was the chance he’d been waiting for. For the first time in a week he was upstairs alone. All he had to do was enter Becci’s room and turn the knobs on the dresser.

  Standing outside her closed bedroom door, he hesitated for a second, then pushed the door open. The room held the secret. He could feel it in the slight prickling of his skin when he passed over the threshold.

  Stopping in the middle of Becci’s room, he closed his eyes and drew in her scent. Wildflowers—flowery and delicate just like her. No matter how far he traveled—be it in years or distance—he would never forget her. Every time he lifted a flower to draw in its delicate perfume, or heard the rain patter on the roof, he would think about her. Every mirror he glanced into, he would remember his first glimpse of her lithe body as she tried to shut out the storm. Even now he could feel the gentle caress of her fingers on his forehead.

  He flicked a quick glance over his shoulder. Becci’s soothing voice slithered under his skin as it ascended in whispers from the floor below. He couldn’t understand her words, but he treasured them. The same way he treasured the feather-like kisses she had treated him to just moments ago.

  She’d dismissed Ascott, leaving the way clear for him to court her. He’d never properly courted a woman. Elizabeth had wanted none of it, and Rebecca’s and his was not a courting relationship.

  He cared for Rebecca, and he planned on marrying her. But his body hadn’t burned with need for her like it did for Becci.

  Caleb stepped closer to the dresser and traced the hand-carved “B.” If the gold remained where he’d hidden it, would Becci ever find it without his help? If she did, would she use it to build the nursery she’d planned for Berclair Manor?

  In her anger, she’d said she needed the money more than she needed him or Ascott in her life. Caleb knew that wasn’t true. Becci needed a man to stand by her side and help her make her dreams come true. And, heaven help him, he wanted to be that man.

  But if he didn’t return to his time, he would fail Luke as well as Rebecca. He couldn’t fail them. But how could he live without Becci? When had she come to mean so much to him?

  Caleb closed his eyes. He would stay for a little longer. Another day or two wouldn’t matter. The time to leave would come soon enough without him forcing it.

  “Caleb!”

  He pivoted around. Becci stood framed in the doorway, her green eyes studying him intently. One hand rested on her chest, nervously working at the top button on her shirt. She lowered her gaze, and her thick dark lashes veiled her eyes. She was a picture of beauty. His heart thundered like a stampede of wild horses. When she raised her eyes to him, all emotion had vanished from them.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked, her voice strangely husky.

  He couldn’t lie to her. “I’m trying to find the key to the past.”

  No! Becci wanted to shout as she stepped closer. How could he leave her? Didn’t he know she would give up everything for him? But how could he know when she hadn’t known herself until just this moment? The realization jarred her to a stop. She had lied to Lilly when she said she thought she was falling in love with Caleb. She wasn’t falling in love. She was already head over heels there.

  She loved the way he had of smiling when he didn’t really understand what she was telling him, and the way he put honesty and loyalty above his own desires. But most of all she understood what it meant for him to be a man of his word.

  He didn’t love Rebecca, but he’d made a promise, and he would keep it. Becci moved closer. Rebecca would have him the rest of her life. Tonight might be her only chance to know the passion of true love.

  Becci held his gaze with hers and smiled. If tonight was all they had, she wanted a memory that would last a lifetime. She drew in a deep breath for courage and inched closer.

  Caleb knew the moment Becci made her decision. She pushed her braid over her shoulder and smiled. Her chest rose with each breath she took, and he fought the urge to peel away the material of her blouse and expose a little more of her creamy skin. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he backed up to keep her at arm’s length. Never had it been so hard to step away from a woman, but he had to. He’d be gone in another day or two.

  Without speaking, Becci closed the distance he’d created and cupped her palm to his cheek. Every thought vanished from his head, and all his strength deserted him. Caleb lifted his hand, letting his knuckles trace the contour of her jaw, so soft and inviting.

  “Kiss me, Caleb. Please.”

  Her plea was impossible to ignore, and he decided to take one kiss. One they both wanted.

  He leaned closer until his mouth touched hers. The moment it did, a hunger erupted within him. He couldn’t pull away, nor did he want to. Heat flooded his senses as she tugged him closer and took his lips with an equal hunger. With the tip of his tongue, he gently begged entrance into her mouth. When her lips parted, he traced the sweetness within.

  Becci gripped his shoulders to keep from melting into a puddle at his feet. This had been what she’d wanted to do in the kitchen. She wove her fingers in the black hair that curled temptingly over his collar and returned his blistering kiss with one of her own.

  Whirling her tongue around his in a sensuous battle, she took delight in his masculine groan. His arms tightened around her as he tasted her fiery passion and hungry desire. Then he eased her away. She could feel him battling for control—control she didn’t want to relinquish.

  She inched closer and felt his restraint crack. He brushed his thumb lightly against the soft swell of her breast, and she gasped in pure delight.

  She had to feel his muscles, touch his warm skin, let his body brush hers flesh to flesh. She tugged at his shirt, but couldn’t free it. She wanted to run her fingers over his bare chest and make him burn. She wanted him naked in bed, turning her dreams of him into reality.

  Caleb pulled Becci closer, pressing his arousal against her. He wanted to touch her softness. To kiss his way to the distended peak of her breast visible through her blouse and lavish it with kisses until she quivered in his arms. He slipped one button free and kissed the newly exposed area. Then the second and third buttons parted. His lips sought her lace-covered breast, and he kissed her nipple through the soft material.

  Becci pulled his mouth back to hers and flicked her tongue over his lips. Gripping his shirt, she tugged until it slipped free of his pants. She swept her hands under it to let her fingers play in the coarse dark hair that curled across his chest. She traced the provocative arrow down his chest past the ripple of muscles and over the waistband to cup her palm over his arousal.

  Caleb tore his mouth from hers, caught her hand and pulled it to his chest as a trem
or shook him. If he didn’t stop now, there would be no turning back. He had to regain control. Lord help him, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her captive for all eternity.

  “Don’t stop,” Becci whispered, nipping at his earlobe. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “We must.” His words trembled with need. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and, as much for himself as for her, repeated, “We must.”

  Not sure he could stay on his feet without support, he backed up until he felt the bed at the back of his legs. He lowered himself to the edge and pulled her onto his lap.

  As the seconds ticked by, she pressed kisses to his neck.

  He had to get away. If he didn’t he would end up bedding her, and she would hate him when he left. He eased her off his lap and tried to fasten her blouse. His hands were trembling so badly he couldn’t work the small buttons into place.

  Becci slapped his hands away. Tears pooled on her lashes as she tried to finish buttoning her blouse, but she didn’t manage any better than he did.

  She lowered her hands to her sides and tried to blink back the burning tears that threatened to fall. Why had he refused what she’d so freely offered? What she’d never offered another man?

  “Becci, it’s not that I don’t want you,” he said as if reading her mind. He looped his arms around her waist and pressed her gently to his chest. “Do you feel the way my heart is pounding? It pounds with love for you. My body responds instantly with visible proof of what I want.” He rested his forehead against her head. “The door is open, sweetheart, and as much as I like your aunt, I’d rather not have an audience sharing the private matters of the bedroom. I believe both of us were caught by surprise.”

  Caleb knew he had to make her understand. Slipping her off his lap, he knelt in front of her and caught both her hands in his. “Think about what you’re offering me and what it means. I can’t promise you a future, Becci. I’m not even sure I can promise you tonight. I want you, but taking you would not be practical. One of us would get hurt.”