Ancient Ties (4 page)

Janney stood for long minutes in disbelief that a walled courtyard, now uninhabited and dark, seemed to have permanently replaced the open field she’d passed through earlier that day.
Was it just this morning?
Just this morning that she met Augusta and…Marek? Brows knit and heart knocking wildly in her chest, she felt her way uneasily back to the peristyle.

Janney couldn’t deal with this unbelievable situation. It really had to be a dream; she’d even pinched herself—hard—but she was still here. The villa was lovely, like a museum, except that everything was well used or new and every person was alive—breathing and real. It was a living history museum. In other, more normal, circumstances, she would love this. What wasn’t to like? It was a very romantic place. A hot ache throbbed through her belly. She sucked in a quick breath.

Yes, it was romantic and fascinating, but it still didn’t make any
sense.
Just a few days ago, Janney had been home in Mission River, Iowa. Even though her mother had fretted about her trip, as she usually fretted about everything, Janney had been excited to get away. The divorce from Ed, the cheating bastard, had been quick. She was still reeling from it and struggling to pull herself out of the resulting depression. She’d been devastated to find out that because their nine year marriage had become more platonic than passionate, Ed had found bedtime activities elsewhere. His affair with their pretty, voluptuous, husband-stealing neighbor had gone on right under her nose. She rubbed her upper arms, then crossed them over her chest and leaned against the wall.

Don’t think about that now.
Think about the trip and how happy
you were to finally have your own adventure.

Bath and the Roman Museum were as fabulous as she’d hoped they’d be. The famous mosaic floors. The artifacts. She’d taken a photograph of a soldier’s tombstone.

What had the name been?
Marek Benin Verus
?
No. The same
name? That’s too outlandish.

Janney shivered suddenly…remembering.

Bright and early the next day, she’d rented a car and prayed she wouldn’t do any damage by driving on the wrong side of the road. The guidebook indicated that ruins of Roman villas dotted the countryside, some unspoiled, sitting quietly waiting for exploration. She steered the car down a narrow track until she spotted some promising stones peeping up through the brush near a stand of oaks.

Exiting the car, she felt as if she could be the only person on earth. Stopping a minute to turn her face to the sun, she closed her eyes, relaxed her muscles, finally feeling a peace and contentment wash over her.

I’m going to be all right. I don’t need Ed, or any man, for that
matter.

Now, right now, she was where she wanted to be—in this fantastic ancient place with these beautiful, sun-warmed stones.

The day couldn’t be more perfect, the sky a soft robin’s egg blue, the sun heating her back. She’d grabbed her camera, and stuffed her purse under the driver’s seat. No one was around, but still, it was better to be safe than sorry. A ruined Roman villa lay before her to explore in private and at her leisure. She had all day.

Circling the ruins, she noticed the stone wall surrounding the main house was mostly all broken down. Tufted weeds lined the walls, and vines twined up and over in spots. A bit of glitter amongst the dull stones caught her attention. Bending over, peering at the tumbled wall, she spotted a bracelet. Wondering how she could possibly find the owner of the ancient-looking gold cuff, she jiggled it in her palm. Even though it was heavy,

she doubted it was real gold or ancient—probably costume jewelry. Then on her second trip around, she noticed an arched doorway in the outside wall that she hadn’t seen the first time.

Pushing aside leafy green vines covering the portal like a beaded curtain from the hippy years of the ’s and ’s, she stepped through into a large, empty courtyard. To her left and at right angles, was another open doorway.

The villa’s front door. It lured her closer. She placed a foot on the threshold worn smooth and rounded. On the other side, she could see that the fountain had crumbled and that some mosaic floor tiles were missing and others chipped. Gripping the stone doorframe, her scalp prickled. She shivered as a sudden breeze cooled her body. Stomach jumping—why the nerves, she had no idea. She remembered thinking,
I came to explore, so let’s do
it.

And here she was. Almost two thousand years in the past.

Although, Augusta had given her a tunic and stola to wear so none of the servants would question her, Janney had put her Twenty-first Century clothes back on, hoping—expecting—to return to her own time. Since that didn’t seem to be in the cards, she needed to think. Making out a bench, the white stone gleaming in the moonlight, she settled down with a sigh and curled into the corner. This apparently was not a dream. It was real. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she hugged herself as tightly as she could.

Dinner had been horrible, the food and the company. Oh, Augusta and Gaius were polite enough. But that man was obnoxious.
Snotty, but damn, he’s sexy!
Following me around,
hovering over me with those broad shoulders. Watching me with those
deep, warm, chocolate fudge eyes.
It was hard to keep her eyes off him, too. It wasn’t every day you saw someone that magnificent.

But he had criticized the way she ate, and the fact she didn’t even know some of the food.

Augusta’s warning scowls hadn’t fazed him one bit.

Janney had no idea why he was so hostile toward her. He had been ever since he’d stomped off to his bedroom. It was only

a nude statue. How could he have known what she was thinking?

She felt her cheeks heat up. Oh, he probably knew exactly what she was thinking. Knew she’d been wondering if he was as well endowed as the statue.

Janney rocked gently from side to side hoping to ease the flare of heat coiling inside her. She had wondered what he’d be like. What it would be like to be in his arms. To have him leaning over her, bending his head to kiss her, to take her breast in his mouth.
Ahh.
A sigh escaped.

Janney flushed hot, remembering how their gazes had met again as they had at the statue. What he could do with that look.

His eyes were like the darkest, most sinful fudge, but she was the one melting in the flames.

After the strange dinner, she made several excursions to the doorway, hoping against hope to go back to her own time. But she was still here in the Second Century. Eventually, Gaius and Augusta retired. They had urged her to get some sleep and said they would deal with matters in the morning. She had tried once more to leave, failed, and then disappeared into her appointed sleeping room with only a brief nod toward Marek.

Now it was the middle of the night, and she couldn’t sleep.

For some strange reason, her watch and camera had disappeared when she stepped into this nightmare. Further proof that she really had traveled back in time?

The nape of Janney’s neck prickled. The hair on her arms stood on end. She knew instantly that she was not alone. “Who’s there?” She sat bolt upright, her feet hitting the ground, her eyes frantically searching the shadows.

Marek stepped into the dim light. His face was hidden, but no way could she mistake that body. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her suddenly dry mouth. He blocked out the feeble light from the oil lamps with that wide expanse of chest. What did he look like under his tunic? All of a sudden, Janney wasn’t so cold, so alone.

She chided herself for wanting him. This wasn’t like her at all. She’d never had this strong of a response to any man, not

even her own husband, not even in the early days when they were still happy. She had no idea that she could want a man as much as she wanted Marek. Where was this coming from? And where would it lead? She didn’t know, but her heart thumped with anticipation. Maybe, in this strange time and place, she didn’t have to be the prim schoolteacher from Iowa. He was making her think thoughts she’d never had before, but she couldn’t allow him to know that—just yet.

Just yet?
Not ever
.

He couldn’t have that power over her, but she didn’t quite know how to handle him.

“Marek,” came the low-voiced reply. “Couldn’t sleep?

Don’t blame you.”

He had a spare way of speaking, didn’t use more words than were needed. That warm, muted voice sent shivers through her belly, heat across her face. She could just imagine this voice breathing hot words, requests, suggestions in her ear. Janney compressed her lips to quash a spontaneous moan.

Sitting down next to her, he passed over his goblet. “Wine,”

he advised. “Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

Most of his face was still shadowed, but she could see the gleam of his eyes. He’d been so snotty at dinner. Why the switch now to being considerate? She couldn’t explain why she no longer felt so alone and afraid. Sipping, she asked, “What do you think of all this, Marek? Are we all insane? Do you believe it?

Besides, how could I have gone back in time? There was no spinning or strange voices. Except yours,” she slanted a look at him. “And I didn’t lose consciousness.”

“What in Hades are you talking about?”

His eyes seemed to disappear again but she could see his strong chin with that gorgeous cleft in the flickering light. “In books, when people go back in time, they usually feel like they’re falling though a void and hear the voices of history as they’re spinning dizzily.”

“There are books about this?” Marek leaned forward and turned to face Janney. His brows met in a scowl, and she was afraid that meant he
did
think she was crazy.

“Never mind.” She didn’t want to go into the subject any more. Janney sipped the wine and huddled further into her corner.

“Well, I’ve been thinking,” Marek said, leaning back again, slipping his arm behind her over the back of the bench. “You’re cold?”

“Mm.”

He clasped his hand around her shoulders and inched closer to her. “The Gods have brought you here for a reason.”

“The gods?” Janney had been staring into her wine.

Completely thunderstruck, she gaped at Marek, trying to see him more clearly in the darkness. “You believe the gods did this?

Do they talk to you too?” She didn’t try to hide the disdain in her voice.

“Yes, in a way,” he replied calmly. “Usually through dreams.”

Janney’s eyes locked on his. “I must be having a dream right now. This is impossible.”

“Oh, this is no dream,” he said emphatically. “Through the Gods, anything is possible.”

“You really believe the gods brought me here?” Disdain turned to skepticism. Janney had a feeling he really believed what he was saying. She had to keep the conversation going in this direction, because although he was talking about gods, he was shifting toward her like a wolf stalking a lamb. Instinctively, she knew where he was headed. She wasn’t ready for it but she knew it was coming. She tightened her arms around her knees in front of her chest as a barrier.

“It took a while, but yes, I believe it. The Gods behave oddly at times, interfering in our lives.” Marek extended his arm over the back of the bench and casually crossed one ankle over his opposite knee.

“But why?
I
don’t believe in the gods. One God, yes, but not…” Agitated, Janney dropped her forehead on her knees. She didn’t even have these religious discussions at home with her friends. How can she be having one here in her dream—or fantasy—or whatever this would be called? This fool’s paradise?

Mm, paradise in his arms? Sitting so near to him, all alone in the
garden, in the night…

“Do you live on a farm? Have goats?”

“No.” Janney’s face popped up again, startled by his question. She opened her eyes, pulling herself out of her fantasy.

“I don’t have goats. Where would you get that idea?”

“You said you were worried about your kids.” He sounded confused.

She frowned at him, “I don’t understand.” Her attention snapped back again to what he was saying. She’d been wondering if he was going to kiss her. If she would let him.

“You said you were worried about your kids,” he repeated as if talking to a child.

“Kids? Children?” Janney was completely baffled. The incongruity of this whole conversation scared her. “What did I say?” “You said you were worried about your mother and your kids. Your goats.” He said each word slowly and distinctly.

“Goats?” She blinked, and then laughed. She couldn’t seem to stop. Janney buried her face in her hands and laughed.

Laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks.

“What’s so funny, Janney Forrester?” Marek’s voice was low and suspicious. Angry. He withdrew his arm and uncrossed his leg as he turned sideways to glare at her.

“In my life, we call children kids. I’m a teacher. I don’t have any goats.” She giggled again, perilously close to hysteria.

“Oh,” he said. “I’ll remember that,” he growled.

“God, I need a drink,” Janney moaned.

He brushed her hand, reminding her of the goblet already in her hand. The slight touch tingled through her arm and spiked a heated flush up over her cheeks, down her neck to her chest and

then further down, just like earlier when he’d taken the gold cuff from her hand. Perspiration formed on her upper lip, under her breasts. Janney gulped too much liquid and coughed. “Um, this wine. It’s potent.” She brushed tears from the corners of both eyes.

Marek patted her back as he scooted right back next to her.

“Did you drink too fast?”

Was he chuckling? “No,” she said. “Not yet, but I’d like to.

I’d like to get rip-roaring drunk and make this go away.” She took another sip. “You know this wine is very nice. I don’t suppose it’s vintage French. No, I guess it wouldn’t be.” Another chuckle. “Not Californian either, I suppose.” The wine on an almost empty stomach was getting to her. Surely, the heat wasn’t caused by him. But she was afraid she already knew that it was. He turned her on like a switch, without even trying. What hope did she have in the face of his sensual masculinity? Did she really want to be a good girl? Or not?