Now and Forever (58 page)

She glanced over at Andrew and saw the bulge of photocopied papers in his breast pocket. God only knew what information they contained.

The question, of course, was why reading about people who were two hundred years dead should bother her as much as it did. Those people were no more real to her than Julius Caesar or Napoleon or Genghis Khan. How was it Andrew's friends exerted an influence over her across the centuries?

Maybe it's because you don't believe it's over.

She glanced over at Andrew, who was looking straight ahead, his jaw set in granite.

Maybe it's because I love you.

He turned to meet her eyes.

Neither said a word as she pulled the car into the garage.

The moment lengthened, shimmered, wrapped itself around their hearts and drew them closer together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've been hateful."

"And I have been a fool." From his pocket he pulled the sheaf of papers Dakota had given to him and ripped them in half. "The past is done."

Shannon watched as the pieces of paper drifted to the ground near the hot air balloon and prayed Andrew would never regret his decision.

 
#

They lay together that night in a spill of moonlight. Their lovemaking had been sacramental, a joyous celebration of the miracle that had brought them to this time and place. If there was anything more to ask of life, any blessing she'd been denied, Shannon couldn't imagine what it was. Lying there in Andrew's arms she felt a sense of wonder that filled her with delight and made her feelings of guilt seem insignificant.

"Are you happy?" she murmured, her lips brushing against his chest. "Is this everything you thought it would be?"

"A strange question, lass, considering the events of the past two hours."

She laughed softly and circled his nipple with her tongue. "I want you to be happy," she said fiercely. "I don't ever want you to wish you'd stayed in your own time. We can make this work, Andrew. I know we can."

 
#

Her words caught him by surprise. He'd never understood a woman's need for constant reassurance. Apparently it was one trait that had survived throughout the centuries.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up the length of his body until her mouth was but a kiss away from his. "Have I expressed dissatisfaction?"

"No, but--"

"Am I here with you, in your bed?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then say no more for we have other business to conduct between us."

"You couldn't possibly...I mean, we just--" A low, throaty laugh. "How positively amazing!"

"Aye," he said, reaching between them until he cupped the hot wetness between her legs. "Amazing."

She was slick with their spent passion. He slipped one finger into her willing body and felt his shaft grow hard as her muscles tightened around him. With his thumb he toyed with the lush curls that covered her mound, then gently rubbed the source of her greatest pleasure. She arched against him and her soft moan of delight brought him close again to madness.

He wanted more. He wanted to worship her, glory in her, brand himself with the smell and taste and heat of her. "I will not hurt you," he said as he moved her to the edge of the bed. "You believe that, do you not?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I believe that."

He knelt on the floor next to her and spread her thighs, burying his face at her most secret, woman spot. He found her with his mouth. She smelled of sex and of life...hot...sweet...as ripe and juicy as a fresh peach on a summer's day.

She arched against him, presenting herself for his lips and mouth and tongue, and he took all that was offered and demanded more. She spent herself again, her cry of ecstasy ringing out in the quiet room, and he found himself close to ecstasy at the sight and sound of her passion.

He lay with her on the mattress and held her close as her heartbeat slowed.

"No one," she whispered, kissing his mouth...tasting herself upon him. "No one but you. Not ever."

He understood the meaning of her words and they filled him with a sense of triumph. "Only me, Shannon," he said, his voice fierce with pride. "From this day forward, there is only me."

She leaned up on one elbow and even in the darkness he could see the shimmer of emotion in her beautiful eyes. "Lie back down," she said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Now it is your turn."

He had never before known a woman who so firmly took control of the act of love. Even the whores with whom he'd taken his ease were paid to do a man's bidding. Such enthusiasm and invention were beyond his ken. He did not know whether to protest or go willingly.

In truth he had not time to make that decision for his beautiful Shannon made it for him. She trailed kisses down his torso, his belly, until she reached his manhood. He ached for her touch but she was coy, fingering him lightly with teasing strokes along the inner muscles of his thigh, cupping him then withdrawing her touch until he felt he would explode with need.

"You play a dangerous game, lass," he said, as she drew her tongue upward from the base of his shaft. "A man can be contained for only so--"

His moan was wrenched from the depths of his being as she took him in her mouth. Her movements were tentative at first, as if such an act was alien to her, but her eagerness and desire to pleasure him were so intense that she quickly discovered how to bring him to a fever pitch. She suckled him, she teased him with her lips and tongue and teeth, she fondled him as if the weight in her palm brought her pleasure.

Indeed she seemed by her demeanor as if the act of bringing him pleasure brought her such as well. He would not have thought it possible, that a woman could derive physical satisfaction from pleasuring her man but the proof was undeniable.

"No more, lass," he said, grabbing her by the shoulders and drawing her up the length of his body. "'Tis a release we will find together."

She smiled at him, a smile of dark pleasure and understanding, then straddled him in much the same way she had straddled him the night they met. But this time it was different. She was naked, in both body and soul, hungry for the act of completion that could only come with the joining of a man and a woman in sexual congress.

He lowered her onto his hard shaft, slowly, gently, until with a sigh of pleasure she took his full length. She moved to an inner rhythm, one he swiftly made his own, and moments later, they found paradise together.

I love you, lass,
he thought as he fell back to earth.

He heard her voice in the darkness.

"Aye," she said.

Chapter Nineteen

"Remember," said Shannon the next morning as she moved her hip closer to his, "this was your idea."

"I know that, lass."

"It might hurt."

"Aye."

She shifted her weight and set herself. "On the count of three.
 
One...two...three!" Andrew went flying over her right shoulder and landed with a thud on the grass at her feet.

"See?" she asked, crouching down next to him. "A woman
can
best a man."

Andrew lay there on his back and stared at her without moving.

She bent over him. "Andrew?" She placed a hand on his chest. "Are you okay?" There was no response. Her heart beat faster. "Andrew! Don't do this to me...say something, please."

With a roar he gathered her to him and rolled her onto her back, covering her with his body. "'Tis a parlor trick you play, lass," he said while she laughed. "Naught but a strange sleight of hand."

"It's called karate. Anyone can do it." She grinned. "After many years of practice, of course."

He kissed her soundly. "A most unusual skill for a woman to possess."

"A necessary skill for a woman to possess if she's smart. I wish I'd known how to do this when I was married. Things might have been very different." At the very least, she would have left Bryant at the first sign of violence.

"And this is what you teach the women who come through your shelters?"

"Among other things, yes." She took his hand and he helped her to her feet. "Mostly we teach women self-respect and learning to defend yourself is a great way to start."

He was quiet for a moment. "The girl Angela has need of such knowledge, as well."

"Damn," Shannon whispered. Children were so vulnerable. To suffer at the hands of a parent was unthinkable. "It starts so early."

"Is there something you can teach the children that would give them this self-respect you talk about?"

"There are all sorts of role-playing games that the social workers--" She stopped. "That sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Those kids need something more than role-playing to give them confidence. They need someone to teach them how to find their place in the world."

"Aye," said Andrew, "and they need someone to teach them how to find their way through the woods." He shook his head. "Within shouting distance of the house and they could not find the path back again. 'Twas a sorry thing to see."

"That's it!" Shannon grabbed his arm. "We could do a kind of mini Outward Bound program."

"I have no knowledge of Outward Bound."

Enthusiasm bubbled through her. "One of the things we've lost in my world is the ability to live without modern conveniences. Outward Bound takes people into the wilderness and forces them to develop survival skills."

"'Tis something those children would be well served by."

"Would you?" she asked, excitement building.

"I do not follow, lass."

"You could take them camping for a night, Andrew! I know they'd have a wonderful time and, best of all, you could pass on what you know about living with nature."

"My knowledge is from another time."

"Some things don't change. Basic survival skills, for example. Technology can't help you when you're alone in the woods with only your wits to help you."

"'Tis something to consider."

"It could be great fun, Andrew," she said. She smiled at him. "Besides, I could use a refresher course myself."

"You should have been a lawyer, lass, for you plead your case with great skill."

She wound her arms about his neck. "We need to do it soon. It's Thursday already and I doubt if any of them will still be here this time next week."

"Then we will do it tonight."

She kissed him hard. "Not tonight. I'm not ready to share you with anyone tonight."

His beautiful hazel eyes twinkled with delight. "When will you share me, lass?"

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Andrew. How would you feel about escorting me to a charity ball on Saturday night?"

"What is the alternative?"

"I attend alone."

He bristled and she loved him for it. "Then I will escort you."

She grinned up at him. "You'll need a tuxedo."

"Tell me what it is, lass, and I will decide if I do."

"It's a type of formal wearing apparel."

His sandy brows slanted downward. "Would it require another visit to the tailor?"

"Of course."

"Then I will not go. That man measures more than the length of a seam."

Shannon started to laugh. "They have your measurements on file. I'll go to the mall and you can stay here."

"'Tis fine with me. I noted that the garage needs repair," he said. "I will tend to it while you are away."

She glanced up at the sky. "Looks like a storm is brewing. I'd better get out and back before those black clouds open up."

She kissed him then ran back to the house to change her clothes. Andrew's smile vanished when she disappeared inside.

Those are not storm clouds, lass,
he thought, looking up at the sky. Once again it was the same cloud cover he'd seen the day he climbed into the hot air balloon...and the same cloud cover he'd seen at dawn yesterday.