Final Hours (4 page)

“Beth—”

Carrie pointed at Kane and talked over his protests. “You,
in bed. She’ll stay, as long as you have your head on that pillow. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winked at Elizabeth before he eased himself
down to the bed. A gasp escaped him when his right shoulder touched the bed,
and he sounded out of breath as he spoke again. “Satisfactory?”

Carrie crossed her arms. “For now.” She pushed off the
doorway. “There’s a chair in the corner, Elizabeth. I’ll find something more
comfortable and have it brought in.”

“Thank you.”

The door closed behind her, and they were alone. No imminent
danger, no distractions. Elizabeth covered her nerves by pulling the padded chair
over to the side of the bed. She sat, carefully adjusted the sleeves of her borrowed
sweater, smoothed her hands over her jeans. Anything to avoid the clear grey
eye she knew watched her every move.

“Beth.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll not bite.”

Her head snapped up. “I didn’t think—”

“I was hoping you were.” He flashed her a smile. “If I
weren’t so full of medication, I’d have a taste.”

Her eyes widened. “You—would?” Part of her really wanted him
to try. And that startled her almost as much as the thought of him—tasting her.

“Unfortunately, I have far too much pumping through me to do
more than grin and drool.”

Laughter burst out of her. Once again, he smoothed over her
nerves. “Get some sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

His smile looked a little lopsided, his eyes glassy. “Hold
my hand, pretty girl?”

Elizabeth couldn’t resist him, not like this. She scooted
the chair closer, took his right hand, and twined their fingers together. With
a contented sigh, Kane closed his eyes. It took less than five minutes for him
to fall asleep, the pain on his face finally easing.

“Oh, Kane.” She studied his face, memorized it, drew it in
her mind. “How am I ever going to forget you?”

When Kane opened
his eyes, Elizabeth was the
first thing he saw.

Curled up in one of the office armchairs, she bent over a small
spiral notebook, the pencil flying across its surface. Lamplight gilded the
blonde hair that cloaked her shoulders, caressed the curve of her cheek. She
sat with her feet tucked under her, and the tight jeans she wore cupped every
lean, shapely inch of her legs.

God help him—she was beautiful, courageous, delicate.
Completely untouchable.

He shoved down the need to reach out, to feel her soft skin
under his fingers again, to draw in the sweet, subtle lavender scenting that
skin—

He cut off the thought, and any attached to it. She had to
go back to the safety of her own time, forget anything about Guy. About him.

But he remembered the way those graceful fingers cradled his
cheek, touched his scars, as if they didn’t matter to her.

Most women of his acquaintance liked to pretend his scars
didn’t exist, or distastefully accepted that they came with the package. Those
same women were only after him for the money he inherited from his guardian,
along with the title he tried to forget he had. Elizabeth had been a refreshing
change, since she knew nothing beyond what she learned from him.

He did not want her knowing the truth, did not want to see
the gleam of ambition fill those dark blue eyes. If her life in the system had
been anything like his, she would want an easy second half to her life. She
would have deserved it, earned it. Though it was an impossible dream, Kane
wanted to be the one to give it to her.

But the look every woman had given him once they found out
who he was haunted him, until he expected to see it every time, with every
woman. He didn’t want Elizabeth to be one of those women—

“Hey.” Her quiet voice jerked him out of his thoughts. He
met her eyes, noticed the smudges under them, how fragile she looked in the
oversized chair. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” He used his left arm to push himself up, and
flinched when his right shoulder twitched. He thought he hid the reaction—until
Elizabeth scrambled off the chair and slid one arm around his waist to help him
sit. He didn’t need the assistance, but any excuse to have her close and he
would use it. “Thank you.”

“I don’t think you should be sitting up at all. You still
look—”

“Rakishly handsome?”

Her smile set off warning bells in his mind. “Like you’re in
pain.” She sat back on the edge of the chair. Too far away, and not far enough.
“Carrie came by while you were asleep, wanted me to tell you that you’re
officially off rotation. At least until Guy is located. I’m guessing that means
you’re on vacation, so you should take advantage… what?”

Kane realized he had been staring. He ran one hand through
his hair, and his gaze dropped to the notebook she left on the arm of the chair.
“What were you doing?”

“Oh.” She stared at the notebook, her fingers toying with
the edge of the cover. “Just—scribbling. It helps me think, or keeps me from
thinking. Depends on the situation.”

Kane used her distraction to keep her talking. He enjoyed
her quiet, low pitched voice. For a Yank, she had a pleasant accent. “And in
this particular situation?”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “Keep from thinking. You must
be thirsty.” She turned to the nightstand, and he spotted the tray with a small
teapot and two cups. “Carrie left some tea, spiked with mint leaves. She said
you’re sensitive to the—healing machine, and the mint settles your stomach.
It’s probably on the cold side, but if you want some I can—”

“Beth,” He touched her wrist, and she stilled. “You know you
are safe here. Dr. Kinimoto’s unfounded threats aside, this is the most secure
facility in my time. No one can harm you.”

“What about Guy?”

Kane focused on her, to keep the rage from overwhelming him.
“Guy would be a fool to return. He has a shoot on sight order on him, and he
would know that.”

She eased away from him and poured tea. “Is this place
military?”

“Not exactly.” He took the offered cup and forced himself to
take a sip. Herbal tea was not his favorite, and he barely tolerated it hot.
Cold, it tasted like medicine. He set the cup on the nightstand and patted the
mattress beside him. After staring at the spot long enough that he expected her
to refuse, she sat next to him, muscles tense, hands pressed between her knees.
“This is a government project, but it’s overseen by civilian scientists, like
Dr. Kinimoto. Regulations are strict because this facility holds the portal to
our past. Very few people outside a few MPs and the Prime Minister even know of
its existence.”

“How?” Elizabeth faced him, more relaxed now, her eyes
bright with questions.

“I can’t be answering all of the questions running through
your mind, but I can tell you that most of us here believe we are saving the
future with this project.”

“By observing the past.”

He smiled. “Exactly.”

“How’s that going for you?”

His smile faded. She didn’t sound enthusiastic. In fact, she
sounded angry. “We have had—complications.”

“Like a maniac running free in the past? Those kind of
complications?”

“Beth—you don’t have the complete picture—”

“You were chasing Guy, wearing a BEF uniform from World War
II.” He stared at her. “Yes, I saw it, and yes, I recognized it.” She stood,
hands clenched at her sides. “You were heading into
my
past, affecting
my
future. That’s all the picture I need to know.”

“Beth.” Kane pushed himself up, surprised when she retreated
from his reaching hand. He couldn’t figure out how the conversation had spiraled
out of his control. “We never set out to do anything more than observe. To
learn from past mistakes, make our future better for it. The people here have
been carefully screened and selected for this project.”

“That didn’t work so well with Guy, did it?” She kept
backing away from him, her voice sharper, harder with every word. “So what now,
Kane? Pat me on the head, threaten my life if I dare to say anything about this
and send me home?”

“Elizabeth.” She halted next to the door, lifted her chin,
her eyes furious. “I would hardly treat the woman who saved my life so
carelessly.” Her chin lowered, surprise flaring through the anger. “Regardless
of what you think, there are many protocols in place to prevent the dire
predictions you’re lining up in your mind.”

“Such as?”

He bit back a smile. She was a spitfire, this one. “Such as,
no agent can return to the same time twice.”

“So Guy won’t be able to come back to my time and—find me?”

“Not unless he can build his own transport and bypass the
portal.”

“How did he appear, the night we met?”

Kane sighed. “It was for effect. We can travel short
distances using the transport, on the day we arrive. After that first day, all
we can do is return here, or move to another time.”

“How are you going to send me home?” He heard the fear
edging her voice.

“You are not—attached to the portal.” He was not going to
try to explain that purely alien aspect of the project, especially since he didn’t
like to think about it himself. “We will be able to send you straight back,
almost like a boomerang. So you will land right where you started.”

Her hands unclenched. “So, if you can’t go back to the same
time, you won’t be able to take me home.”

“And I am sorry for that.” He lowered himself to the bed,
his shoulder throbbing again. “Please stop hovering near the window. The staff
will think you’re afraid of me.”

She moved to the chair and sat on the arm, as if she wanted
to keep distance, and have an easy escape. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but
it did. More than he expected.

“Is this good enough?”

“Beth—”

“What?” She sounded petulant, and she must have realized it.
With a sigh, she slid into the chair, fingers picking at the notebook. “I’m
sorry. I have a temper, and feeling out of control tends to spark it.”

“Feeling out of control would apply in this situation.” He
rubbed his forehead, exhaustion weighting him again. “I know you want to return
home, but I would like to be able to stand upright long enough to walk you to
the lab.”

“If that’s your way of saying you want me to stay until
you’re recovered, I will.” She leaned back against the chair, the smudges under
her eyes darker. “I think I might need some recovery time.”

“You did not need to stay with me all night.”

“I lost track of time.” A smile touched her lips. “Honestly.
I tend to do that when I’m draw—scribbling.”

Since she obviously wanted to keep what she did to herself,
Kane didn’t pursue it. Instead he reached for the intercom on the nightstand.
“I’m going to have them prepare an empty room for you. Now that Dr. Kinimoto
knows you’re not a notorious international assassin, you can stay as long as
you need to—”

A screeching alarm cut him off.

He was on his feet and grabbing Elizabeth before he thought
about it.

They ran down the med wing corridor, both of them barefoot.
Kane swung her around the corner, and nearly ran straight into Mac.

“I was just coming to get you.” Mac gripped his good
shoulder. “We found Guy.”

~ ~ ~

The lab was
crowded when they arrived. Kane
took long enough to duck into the costume room and change into a fresh, blood
free BEF uniform. He found his spare greatcoat in his locker, along with the
blue wool scarf Mac gave him last Christmas, and headed back into the lab. His
shoulder ached as he pulled the coat on and wrapped the scarf around his neck.
He decided to ignore it.

Elizabeth stood near the console, hugging her waist. Despite
every promise, he would have to leave her here alone. Desert her. His mind
shied away from the fact that he was most likely another name on a long list of
people who had done the same. But there was nothing for it; he had a narrow
window to find Guy, and he had to take it.

Mac diverted his attention, waved him over to enter his ID
number on the smaller console. He strode over, more than happy to avoid the
crowd that surrounded the main console.

“Guy’s headed back to his original coordinates in 1940,” Mac
said, pointing to his screen. “London, May 14. You have about five minutes
until the all clear.”

“What does he want with that time?”

“It was the start of the war, you know.”

Kane raised an eyebrow, glanced down at the uniform he wore.
“I am well aware. But the key players are in Europe. Why would he keep going
back to London?”

“Churchill is in London, and he’s the new Prime Minister.”
Elizabeth’s soft voice startled him. She stood at the end of the console, gaze
on the main screen. “Winston Churchill is one of the big reasons Britain isn’t
under German rule.” Her eyes widened in surprise when she discovered both him
and Mac staring at her. That charming blush colored her cheeks. “What? I’m a
history buff.”

It was Mac’s turn to look surprised. “Elizabeth
Barritt—you’re Elizabeth Barritt.”

“Right. We were introduced, if I remember correctly—”

“No.” He started furiously tapping on his screen. “You’re
the
Elizabeth Barritt.” With a wide smile, he leaned back and pointed at the result.

A biography popped up, with a photo of an older Elizabeth.
Kane stared at it, then at the real woman next to him. The Elizabeth in the
photo looked plain, tired, resigned, her face so thin all the viewer saw were
cheekbones, and the big black glasses that hid her beautiful eyes.

Kane shifted his attention to the list of books under her
bio. A long list of books.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, backing away from the console.
Kane snapped out one hand and caught her before she could run. “I look so
angry. How did I end up that angry? How did I—that can’t be me, I don’t even
write. I’m a guide in a second rate gallery—”

“Elizabeth.” Kane pulled her in, wrapped his arm around her
waist when he felt her shiver against him. “Read the titles. These are books on
art and history. Somehow, you combined the two. And from what your bio says,
did quite well with them.”

“Please take it down. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to
look at her—”

“Mac.” He nodded, deleting the information. Kane slid his
hand up her back, all too aware of the curve of her hip, her narrow waist. God
help him, she felt so good. He cradled the back of her neck, gently kneaded the
tensed muscles. “Look at me, Beth.”

When she obeyed, the pain in her eyes drove straight through
him. He shoved aside the need to simply hold her until that pain disappeared.

“I don’t want to be that person,” she whispered. Tears
filled her eyes, but didn’t fall. He guessed she had learned a long time ago to
keep from shedding them. “I came to London so I would move away from becoming
her.”

“That is just one possible future for you, Beth. Mac
shouldn’t have shown it to you,” he sent a narrow-eyed glare at the Texan, who
shrugged his shoulders. “But now you know, and when you return to your own
time, you can make decisions based on that knowledge. Decisions that will erase
her, recreate her.”

He tucked blonde hair behind her ear. It was like silk under
his fingers, and he wanted to bury his face in the thick, golden strands,
surround himself with her scent, her warmth—

He dropped his hand and stepped back.

“Kane—”

“I have to go.” He moved past her, tried to ignore the beautiful,
dark blue eyes that followed him. “Mac will see that you get home safely.”

“Be careful.”

Those quiet words stopped him. He let out his breath, turned
around. Elizabeth stood at the end of the console, blonde hair caressing her
bare arms, those blue eyes watching him.