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Nicholas gave her a smile, nodding for her to be seated. Not until she had done so, did he drop into his chair, laying his cane on the floor beside him. "Some things can be done alone, while others need constant supervision," he whispered just for her.

She felt her face flush and she sincerely hoped Cameron didn't read the innuendo in his brother's words, but apparently he was busy getting Amanda seated.

Amanda chatted throughout dinner and Jaci was happy to let her. She ate little, stirring her food around on her plate, her gaze constantly sliding to Nicholas. It was hard to believe he had walked on his own and sat there eating with them instead of in his room. It made her stomach spasm and her head pound. Did his recovery mean she was no longer needed here at Wildwood?

"The race is on my birthday, Uncle Nicholas. And Miss Eastman says we'll have a big-be-quick for dinner."

"Bar-b-que, Sweetie," she corrected gently, pulling her thoughts back to the present.

"Although I wasn't in favor of a race in the beginning, perhaps it would be a good time to sell off several horses," Nicholas murmured as he sipped his wine.

"There's no need to worry about the note payments, Nick." Cameron looked adamant. "The ships are making good time and should be back in port by the end of June, laden with goods that will sell promptly. It isn't necessary to sell off any Wildwood stock--"

"That's beside the point, isn't it, Cameron?" Nicholas's voice, unusually harsh, commanded silence.

Jaci didn't understand. "Why not use the horses for stud, instead--"

"Excuse me?" Nicholas exploded, and when she looked at him, his gaze shifted quickly to Amanda and back.

Still, she shrugged, used to having clear spoken conversations. "Talk to me."

"A gentleman doesn't speak about such things in the presence of ladies: especially those of tender years." Again his gaze slid to Amanda.

"Would it make any difference if Amanda weren't here?" She refused to let the subject drop.

"Miss Eastman, that's enough. I'll not have my dinner interrupted by useless questions."

For some reason, Nicholas was terribly agitated, and she wondered if they would have to allow him to re-establish himself again, now that he was walking. This male-ego thing was getting more than a little wearing. Perhaps it was time to do something about that, too.

She smiled sweetly. "Amanda, sweet, would you please excuse us? You may take your dessert in your room. Your papa will even join you, won't you?" Her gaze silently implored Cameron to help. "Your Uncle Nicholas and I need to talk."

Amanda thought it a great treat to be allowed dessert away from the table, and Cameron seemed more than happy to comply with Jaci's wishes, much to Nicholas's consternation. Being a man, his brother should have stayed here to support him.

His thoughts were lost as his gaze followed Jaci. She escorted Cameron and his daughter to the door, quietly closing it behind them. He heard the key scrape in the lock.

Nicholas's heart did a little flip-flop at the thought of being locked in a room with Jaci. He tried to recall his anger at her interference, but her hips swayed and the silk of her gown rustled and he knew he was lost.

"Why do you have to sell the horses, Nicholas? Why not use profits from Cameron's shipping business?" Though she interrogated him, her voice caressed him and her gaze seduced him.

"It's a matter of honor, Jaci. I made the loans, not Cameron, and I have a duty to repay them."

"But you did it for Cameron; for your family. Isn't it all right for family to help now?"

He leaned back in his chair, content to drink in her beauty. She had worn her hair up tonight, but little pieces escaped her bun and softened the lines of her face. Her gown, of palest green, shimmered around her.

He had apparently incited her ire, for her bosom heaved with indignation. He wished, rather fervently, for her beautiful breasts to spill out of the low neckline. His thoughts prompted him to wonder how quickly irritation turned to passion, and he decided to find out.

"I told you, it's a matter of honor--something you apparently know little about." He ended this sentence in a teasing voice.

"How can you say that?"

"You stripped me of my honor when you took advantage of me. I was flat on my back; helpless--"

"You wanted it, too." Her eyes sparked and he recognized the look she had worn yesterday when they made love. "Admit it," she demanded, her eyes alive, and he had her right where he wanted her.

"No," he denied. "A gentleman would never admit he needed a woman."

She shrieked at him, hurrying her movements from the end of the table until she stood directly behind his chair. Having pushed her over the edge, and now not sure that was a good move, he turned, trying to keep her in his sights.

She jerked his chair out from the table, then marched around to face him again. Before he could plan his strategy, she hiked up her dress and climbed onto his lap, her face only inches from his. "Admit it--you need me."

"No, I would never allow you that kind of power over me." He continued to tease her, loving every minute of it as the sexual tension in the room rose. His body heat hovered near the melting point each time she squirmed on his lap.

Suddenly she stilled, staring at him with a wide-eyed gaze that made his heart trip with passion.

"You're the one who taught me passion, Nicholas, and how to feel. Now are you going to deny what you feel? What is part of us?"

He groaned his answer, pulling her close to thoroughly kiss her. She allowed him freedom to explore her mouth with his tongue, and the taste of her sent his senses spiraling. He kissed a trail of heat down her throat to the swell of her breasts.

He wanted to make love to her again, for yesterday seemed a lifetime ago. She curled her fingers in his hair, gently massaging his neck and he scoured his brain for an answer to his incredible need. When she wiggled her fanny against his groin, he thought he'd explode.

"Tell me you don't need me," she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting in and out, taunting him.

"Jaci, quit. You're driving me crazy."

She gave him a siren's smile. With her tongue caught between her teeth, she scooted back, reaching down to quickly unbutton his trousers. His manhood sprang free, throbbing with need.

To his surprise and delight, she shifted her dress around, holding it up with one hand while the other hand caressed his length before allowing herself to slide down onto him. Nicholas closed his eyes, the sensations coursing through him so strong and pure he hoped he survived their impact. She moved quickly, and he realized she was as frantic as he to reach the pinnacle of satisfaction.

"I swear you're a witch," he murmured as he licked along the tops of her breasts. Her movements increased, carrying him swiftly towards fulfillment.

She clutched his shoulders and threw her head back, her face a mask of pure sensual pleasure. Nicholas thought he had never seen her more beautiful.

"Not...a witch," she panted, "just from another...century."

He was on the brink of climax as he heard her words, and realized it didn't matter at all. He burst asunder, the impact of their coupling so intense he thought he could have been transported to another time.

* * *

"I can't believe I did that," Jaci gasped against his neck long minutes later.

"To what are you referring--seducing me, or screaming my name in the throes of passion?" He was quite pleased with himself, and with Jaci, though he would hesitate to openly admit he liked her brazen behavior.

"Oh, no, did I really scream?" She pushed her face closer to him, as though burying herself against discovery. Her breath against his hot skin was enough to start his passions rising once again.

He had to chuckle at her chagrin. "Actually, I doubt they heard you past the kitchen." She groaned.

"There is something to be said for you being from the future and more free with your feelings, but I do hope you never decide to attack me in public." He had tried not to think about her origins. Sometimes, however, her attitudes, like towards sex, were foreign to his experience with women. He couldn't help but recall she had come to him across more than one hundred years of time.

She finally lifted her head. He held his gaze steady as she searched his face, and he hoped whatever she wished to find would appear for her.

"Do you regret our relationship, Nicholas?"

He adamantly shook his head. "Though I must admit I don't understand it, I most definitely don't have any regrets. And while I will most probably wish I had kept my mouth closed, I find myself curious as to what a woman from 2008 expects in a relationship."

She ticked her reasons off quickly, and he knew his eyes grew wider with wonder at each of her words. "Independence. There has to be a giving as well as taking--fifty-fifty. And trust--that's most important. Oh, and women are very capable of having ideas, and those ideas have the right to be tried." She paused to breathe, and he thought she looked very sure of herself.

"Fifty-fifty? It sounds as though you want to be a man." He slid his hands down the smooth curve of her back. "That would be a terrible waste, you know."

"Not a man, just equal; a partnership."

"I suppose next you'll tell me you want the right to vote for our government officials."

"That, too." She grinned at him. "What about you?"

He had no trouble telling her exactly what he thought. "A nineteenth century man takes care of what's his."

She quirked a brow at him and pursed her lips.

"Let me rephrase," he gave in with a sigh. "I treasure any gift given to me. I protect those who have been magically placed in my care." He kissed her nose lightly. "But, I do live by a code that demands honor, loyalty and fidelity. Can you accept that?"

"And does the fidelity thing work both ways?"

He knew what she was asking, and wondered what history had written about men of his era. Instead of answering directly, he questioned her, not knowing what standards she had lived by. "Would I have any reason to be unfaithful?"

"No." Her answer was swift. Then her golden brows came together in a frown. "I have to behave according to today's standards?"

"Absolutely. No arguing or questioning my authority in front of others." On this, he would not yield.

She leaned forward, her breasts on the verge of spilling out of her gown. Her lips met his in a feathery kiss: once, twice. As he was inclined to deepen the kiss, she pulled back. "So I can't be aggressive?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't say that."

"But if I'm to behave and obey perfectly by these standards, mustn't I also be demure and submissive, and definitely not take an active role in lovemaking?" She wiggled her bottom and he yielded--quickly and completely.

"I suppose there are a few customs we can begin a century early." She tickled his ear with her tongue and he sighed. "Ah, yes, definitely a few."

Chapter Eighteen

Jaci remained content on Nicholas's lap, sighing softly as he rubbed her back. She felt his breath against her hair as he gently kissed the top of her head. She knew she would love him forever. A shiver sliced through her--almost a premonition--and she jerked upright.

"Are you cold?" He rubbed her arms. "I can ring for Molly to bring you a wrap--but I'd rather not." His gaze--a sexy, liquid silver--caressed her, and she smiled, wishing never to move away from his embrace. "We should move to the parlor where there's a fire," he added, his voice reluctant. She shifted slightly on his lap, and he groaned. "But I'd rather not."

"Mmmm." She gave him no more answer than that. For long, lovely minutes, they sat in complete silence. Nicholas continued to rub her back. Her heart and soul were filled with warmth--a soothing peace she had never experienced before.

He finally let out a heavy sigh and set her away from him. Jaci looked up in question.

"I think it must be time to retire to another room. Selkirk is knocking from the other side of the door, and I'm afraid it may be opened any moment now." His voice was fringed with humor.

"I locked it. Remember?" She held up the key and grinned.

"Ah...yes. But he may be worried about the way you carried on." He smirked.

"Oh, dear, if they did hear me--" Her voice trailed off, too embarrassed to finish her thought.

This time, he laughed out loud as he set her on her feet and smoothed down her gown. "I was only teasing you earlier."

"I didn't yell?"

He reached down and grabbed his cane, slowly pushing himself to his feet. "Oh, you were quite vocal, all right, but I doubt your moans reached past these walls."

She tried to look indignant, but she was pleased with Nicholas's recovery and their lovemaking, so she simply shook her head and grinned. He took her elbow and led her from the room.

As they moved down the hall, she felt the increased pressure of his grip, and she realized he wasn't as strong yet as he would like to think. Without words, she moved his arm around her shoulders to bear more of his weight.

When they reached the parlor, she had to allow him to seat her first, though she knew he was worn out. He stood for a moment by the fire, seemingly lost in thought, and she began to fidget.

He cleared his throat and turned to face her, leaning heavily on his cane. "We need to talk."

Oh, dear.
She didn't want him bringing up any heavy conversation topics tonight. Even though she loved him dearly, she knew their passion was all there could be. She wouldn't ask for a commitment, not with her existence here so tenuous. Frantically, she tried to think of a change of subject, but he continued.

"I am still a cripple," he began, his gaze shifting away from her face, "and not yet capable of providing--"

"Providing what?" she interrupted, not allowing him to demean himself. "Nothing about your physical self keeps you from caring for the people who live at Wildwood. Why do you give so much to others and not want happiness for yourself?"

He looked totally taken back by her words. "How can you say that? I've done nothing but take from you and Cameron--from everyone--since the accident."