The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (21 page)

A gawky child of Irish parents, Cami had grown into a tall, willowy redhead. At twenty-seven, Cami knew she had curves in all the right places. Instead of teaching elementary school kids, she could have risen from her financial nightmare by working in a bar, nightclub or even a strip joint. She’d been told she was sexy. Trouble was Cami didn’t
feel
sexy. Roger had taken that from her. Nope. She was going to open up a school for underprivileged children; she didn’t need anything else. Certainly not a man.

Cami turned away from her reflection and fought her way to the second floor where the crowd had thinned. She wandered down the quiet, tiled hallway and peeked into several shops.

She stepped into a luxurious bath shop. The exotic aromas of expensive toiletries encircled her. She’d splurge on bubble bath, treating herself to a soak. The thought of sliding into the large roman tub in her room, enveloped by sensual, frothy foam lifted her spirits.

But then Cami came to her senses and bought a less expensive bar of soap and a scented candle that reminded her of sultry tropical breezes. She might not need a man, but tonight she’d have a tiny part of her secret fantasy.

After paying for the items, she glanced at her watch. Time to retrieve Gina. They’d have to hurry to freshen up and change clothes before dinner and the show. Cami left the store and moved quickly through the crowds surrounding the check-in desk, slot machines and the bar. She paused in front of a roulette table to search the cavernous game room.

Not seeing Gina, Cami moved away from the table, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

“Excuse me.” The man’s rich, baritone voice slid over her like a lingering caress.

She turned back.

Elegantly dressed in a simple white shirt and black vest, he stared at her with intense green eyes. His dark hair, long and sinfully thick, framed the hard planes of his face.

“Yes?”

For a moment he said nothing. Cami’s heart did a somersault. Good Lord, the man was gorgeous. Her body warmed under his regard and her pulse flickered and leaped.

He held out his hand, offering her a single, white chip.

“I believe you dropped this.”

“I don’t think so.” Cami pulled away, but didn’t break his contact.

“Take it. Your wildest dreams will come true.”

The heat from his touch seeped into her blood. Cami couldn’t think of a response. She couldn’t think at all with him standing so close. She felt compelled to accept the chip. It would be rude not to. Her arm reached out.

“Say it.” Though the words were softly spoken, there was underlying steel to them.

Cami licked her lips. “My wildest dreams . . . will come true.”

He slowly, seductively placed the chip in her open hand.

Two

Cami’s palm burned as she closed her fingers around the chip. The room wavered and she fought the urge to drop the coloured plastic in her hand. Then her world went dark.

Oh great, I meet a gorgeous man and I faint at his feet.
Cami reached for him, but found nothing.

His voice, a low vibration shimmering through her soul whispered, “Take a chance.”

The lights grew brighter. Cami blinked. “Take a what?” The man was gone. “Hey, where are you?”

Cami stood in a darkened corner of a room she didn’t recognize. The roulette table was gone, as well as everything else that had been there. In fact, the room was significantly smaller and more opulently decorated than Caesars casino, with a marble fireplace, matching sofa and loveseat, some wingback chairs, even a billiard table. It looked like the parlour from a Victorian bed and breakfast.

The few round tables scattered throughout the room were occupied by men seated in straight-backed chairs, playing card games. A man in the far corner played a piano, the upbeat tune mixing with the sounds of light conversation and laughter.

Cami blinked again. Nothing changed. What on earth was going on? She felt as if she’d been dropped on to the set of one of those stupid reality shows. Modern woman is whisked away to live the life of a caveman. She must eat woolly mammoth and pee in a cave to experience the true nature of her new world. By the looks of things, this reality show had a Victorian motif. And the “guests” were dressed for the part.

Gina had to be behind this charade. It was just the type of “fun” she’d dream up. Gina must have sent in a sob story about her friend’s sorry life and
poof,
Cami was dropped into this scene without any warning. That made sense. Fine, she’d go along, for now. But, there’d better be lots of money for starting her school at the end of this or Gina would burn.

Mr Gorgeous Green Eyes at the roulette table must have helped transport her to a studio or another casino. But she didn’t remember travelling anywhere. Cami looked around again. Where were all the cameras, microphones and spotlights? She’d call Gina. Cami tapped her empty pocket and remembered she’d left her purse and cell phone in her room.

Walking away from the parlour, Cami found the front desk and an attendant. Behind the man, a sign announced in bold blue lettering:
WELCOME TO THE FREMONT HARBOR HOUSE
. She’d never heard of this casino.

“Can I please use your phone?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your telephone. I need to call a friend.”

The man looked at her quizzically. “I’m sorry, madam, but we don’t have a telephone yet.”

“What do you mean ‘yet’?” OK, very realistic extras.

Cami put her hands on the counter. “Look, I need to find my friend, so if you’ll—”

She stopped suddenly as the chip she’d been holding tumbled on to the scarred surface. Except it was no longer a chip at all.

Cami picked it up and studied the silver coin, noting the eagle on one side and the profile of Lady Liberty with the date of 1893 on the other. A five-dollar American eagle coin.

How did it get in her hand? She could have sworn the man at the roulette table had given her a gaming chip. Whew. Maybe she did need this reality diversion. She must have blacked out and now couldn’t remember anything.

“Madam, may I summon your travelling companion?”

Cami closed her hand around the coin. “No thank you. I’ll find Gina myself.”

She turned and strode through the old, double front doors, tripping on her way down the steps and stumbling into a group of men. This time, strong hands steadied her; one man’s grip the only thing keeping her upright.
What was wrong with her today?

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

He held one of her arms. His other hand rested at her waist. “Are you hurt?”

That smooth voice. Cami looked up. The man’s eyes connected with hers. Mr Gorgeous Green Eyes. Every hormone in her body sizzled at his touch. His stare seemed to suck the air out of her lungs. She hadn’t had sex in three years, but this was ridiculous. Cami took a slow, deep breath. He didn’t fit into her plan. She needed information from him,
not
to jump his bones.

Cami broke away, trembling from the rush of hormones. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me.”

She noticed he’d changed into period garb, his grey pinstriped suit covering broad shoulders. The jacket was open revealing a coordinating vest and tie. Very handsome indeed. So that’s where he’d gone earlier.

The two men flanking his sides looked her up and down, as if she were a tasty morsel to be devoured. Cami shifted away from them, uncomfortable to be their centre of attention.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I need a word with . . . him.” Cami pointed to Mr G.

A lock of black hair fell across his eyes. Cami reached up to brush it away, but stopped before she touched him.
What has
possessed her?

The shorter, balding man answered. “You’d best run along, little lady. We have
business
with him.”

“‘Little lady’?” Cami crossed her arms. That was twice today she’d been called that particular name and she didn’t like being dismissed. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until someone tells me what’s going on.”

The flippant man moved in front of her, blocking her from Mr G. “It’s only a game of cards, darlin’. No need for you to worry your pretty self.”

He winked at his partner and then reached a pudgy hand towards her. Before she realized his intent, he picked up a lock of her hair and rubbed it, his fingers grazing her neck. “I say we finish this game and see what we can show the
lady
.”

The taller one snorted. “She ain’t dressed like no lady.”

Cami gasped, for the first time afraid.

Mr G. yanked him back by the collar. “Remove your hand, now.”

He whined. “We don’t mean no harm. We just wanna finish our game, get what’s due.”

Mr G. released the man and shoved him away from her. “I intend to make good on my bet. It will be in the form of something other than coins.”

The coin. Cami realized she held Mr G.’s money. He’d only given it to her as part of the reality show. He obviously needed it back. She’d get paid later.

Cami held up the American eagle. “Will this be enough?”

Three

Seth Warner reluctantly tore his gaze from the beautiful woman who’d come to his aid and glanced at the ruffians. He saw their lust turn to greed at the prospect of more money.

“Sure it will, darlin’.” Both men slapped each other on the back.

Seth gave the woman another assessing look, agreeing with them on one point: she
was
most oddly dressed. Blue trousers moulded to her very seductive curves and a white blouse, buttons scandalously open at the neck, gave him a glimpse of her lacy chemise beneath. Her long, reddish hair hung in waves past her shoulders, free from any clasp. He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Who was this siren of a woman? Why did she want to help him?

Seth approached her, intent on finding out. The other men had gone inside. He took her arm, guided her to the parlour and said, “To what do I owe this favour?”

The lacy fringe of her lashes lifted, genuine surprise on her face. “It was yours. I’m returning it.”

They arrived at the table and he pulled out a chair for her.

“Oh, I . . . really can’t stay,” she said.

Seth pressed her lightly into the chair. As he slid her towards the table, he bent in and whispered, “We’ll discuss your act of kindness after the game.” Her unique scent of lavender lingered as he took the chair next to her.

Seth put his hands on the table. “Gentlemen, I believe I have a benefactress for good fortune. Shall we proceed?” There were a few grumbles, but the dealer flipped cards face down to each player. Good. He may be down, but he wasn’t out.

The dealer said, “The game is five-card draw.” He nodded towards the woman. “In honour of our guest, queens are wild.”

Seth looked at his dealt cards: the nine of clubs, four of diamonds, eight of hearts, jack of clubs, and the five of spades.

Blast. He’d need a miracle to win this hand. He had to stay in. It was his last chance to get the money.

He leaned over to the woman and said, “Throw in the coin.” That was a mistake. Her scent beckoned him. He moved closer. She held out the coin to him. “I don’t want to play.”

“You’ll bring me luck. Let me show you.” He gently wrapped his hand around hers and steered her to the centre. “Now let go.” The coin clinked as she dropped it into the pile of money.

Keeping his face unreadable, he said, “I’m in.” Yet he was far from unresponsive to her. His body’s primal reactions heated up with a vengeance.

Two of the other players also stayed in. Only the man on his right folded.

When it was his turn, Seth chose the four, the five and the eight and tossed them into the pile of other rejected cards.

He tried to ignore the woman next to him, but he was aware of her nearness, the heat of her skin. Unable to stop himself, he angled towards her again. “Draw three cards from the stacked deck.”

Her face was pale and a droplet of moisture beaded her upper lip. He struggled to keep from touching her as another spike of desire caught him.

She handed him the requested cards singly: the eight of clubs, the ten of clubs and . . . the queen of hearts.

A wild card.

The fellow across from him folded. Only one other player remained and only one hand that could better his.

He allowed himself a small amount of hope. “Call.”

The last man laid down his cards and snickered. “I got a full house.”

“Very admirable.” Seth spread his cards on the table and smiled. “But it doesn’t beat a straight flush.”

Seth shoved his winnings to the edge of the table and into his coat pocket. The other men stirred.

Seth stood and whispered in the woman’s ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

He pulled her outside, then walked quickly down Pacific Avenue away from the hotel.

“Where are we going?” She tugged back. “I want to stay close to the hotel.”

He tightened his grip on her upper arm and kept going. “I don’t want those men following us.”