Rachel Carrington (12 page)

Carla unwittingly placed her hand upon Sinclair’s thigh, the movement as natural as breathing. “Allow him to dream, Sinclair. Sometimes, our dreams are all we have.”

Sinclair’s hand covered hers. “It is almost as if he was born too early. Perhaps he, too, is suffering from a cruel twist of fate.”

“Too?” Carla turned her gaze to his.

Sinclair watched the way the firelight played across hair the color of the leaves in the fall, the smoothness of her skin and he smiled, almost sadly. “You are not happy here.”

“That’s not altogether true.” Her fingers bunched against the hard muscles of this thigh. “I am happy when I am with you.”

“But you would still go back if you could.”

Despair flickered in her eyes. “That time, it’s where I live. It’s my home.”

“It does not have to be.”

“I’m not so sure I could fit in here.”

He lifted a hand, allowed his fingertips the luxury of skating across her cheek, her lips. “I think you would fit quite well here. You have already carved out a place in my life, Carla.”

“Hey,” Alexander interrupted, “have either of you two been listening to me or have I been talking to the air?”

Sinclair didn’t take his eyes off Carla’s face. “We are listening.”

Alexander didn’t buy it. “Why did you not just tell me that you were not interested in hearing my tales of travel and adventure?” He got to his feet and straightened his heavy woolen overcoat. “I am tired. I fear that those same travels have taken my energy. Since you have graciously offered me accommodations, Cousin, I will retire for the evening.” With a grin and a wink, Alexander made himself scarce.

“I do not remember offering,” Sinclair responded with a wry grimace.

Carla smiled. “The two of you seem very close.”

“We are.”

“Then, why were the servants so interested in your reaction to Alexander’s arrival?”

Sinclair grinned. “Their memories are too clear, I am afraid. The last time my cousin was here, I threatened to kill him.”

Carla gasped. “You didn’t mean it!”

“At the time, I fear that I did.”

“What happened?”

“Alexander is very fond of the wine bottle, I am afraid, unless he has changed drastically. His overabundance led to a very indiscreet liaison with one of the town’s ladies. I was facing an irate husband and trying to save my own neck while Alexander snored in the background. The husband, laying aside the fact that I am the Duke, delivered a blow that ringed my eye and left me with a splitting headache.

When Alexander awoke and realized what had happened, he had the audacity to laugh at his indiscretion.” Sinclair shifted on the settee, crossing one ankle over his knee. “My cousin is a very wayward fellow. He is searching for something that I fear he will never find in our world.”

“As you said, maybe he was born too soon.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe he just has not learned how to accept the life he has here. Time is passing him by and still he has not found the happiness that has eluded him for most of his life.”

“And could you help him find it?”

Sinclair’s expression changed to one of thoughtfulness. “I once had happiness, but now, I am not so sure that it is in the same place where I last left it.”

“I think that I am not the only one who is not happy here.”

“Happiness is not just a place, Carla. It is who you are with. You said that you are happy with me.”

“Yes.”

“But you will not consider staying with me.”

“I did not say that, but I don’t want the choice to be taken from my hands.”

“I am not sure that I understand.”

“I don’t want to stay with you because I’m forced to, Sinclair. I want to find my way back to the twenty-first century and then decide. I could never be happy here if I knew that I was here because I had no other choice.”

Sinclair stood and pulled her to her feet, brushing her forehead with his lips. “Then, I hope you find your way home.”

She blinked up at him. “Now I’m the one who doesn’t understand.”

“Because I have to believe that you will make the right choice.”

“And what makes you so sure that staying with you is the right choice for me?”

“You have a chance at happiness here, real happiness. I could open that world to you. Would you find it across time?” He cupped her cheek with his palm. “Has any man ever made you feel the way I did when I touched you in your woman’s place?” He heard her quick gasp and he followed the words by sliding his hands down over her hips. “When I am with you, Carla, I need to touch you. The craving is so intense that sometimes I fear I will run mad if I do not obey the dictates of my body.” His lips nuzzled her neck.

“Were it my choice, I would keep you forever.”

“I’m not a possession,” she whispered.

His breath hissed out of his throat and he yanked her closer. “Not as a possession, my sweet, but as my lover, my friend,” he paused then added, “my wife.” As her eyes widened, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her melt into his arms and knew she was not immune to his charms.

But could he convince her to stay, to give up everything she’d left behind in her world and remain in his?

Carla had never been a morning person, and the sight of Alexander’s grinning face at just past dawn the following day did little to ensure a good mood.

“Ah, look who has awakened and graced my day with her presence.” He swept low at the waist in a gallant bow and extended his hand in a courtly gesture. “You are a picture of beauty, Miss Morgan.”

She hesitated at the corner of the dining hall, watching Sinclair’s grinning cousin with a dubious expression. She managed to fake a polite smile when she really wanted to tell him to turn down the wattage on his own. “Thank you.” She sidestepped around his outstretched hand and made her way to the table, seating herself before he could offer his assistance.

Eagerly, Alexander bounded to her side and settled himself in the chair right next to hers, scooting closer so that his knee bumped hers. “You have the most extraordinary eyes.”

“They are blue. It is quite a natural color, Mr…” She broke off, uncertain as to how to address him.

“You may call me Alexander. I allow all the beautiful ladies to call me by my Christian name. It is the least I can do.”

Carla angled her knees to the opposite side of the chair, breaking contact with his legs. “There are several other chairs surrounding this table, Alexander. Must you sit so close?”

He grinned broadly, obviously enjoying the tartness of her tongue. “I fear if I do not that I will not get enough of you.”

“Alexander, please move to another chair as the lady asks.” Sinclair spoke sharply and his dark eyes glittered with impatience as he joined them at the table. “I did not expect you to join us.” He directed his attention toward Carla, an almost accusatory expression on his face.

Carla felt that she’d betrayed him somehow. But she couldn’t tell him why she was up so early. She wouldn’t share the dream she’d had the night before…at least not with Alexander present. The images had been so real, so vivid and she hadn’t shaken the pictures, the same pictures she’d seen when she’d fallen into a deep sleep in the library. Visions of a child and Sinclair’s smiling face as she nursed the baby at her breast. Her breath caught in her throat and she knew Sinclair watched her, his curiosity strong.

“Perhaps she was anticipating another meeting with me,” Alexander, never short on self-confidence, inserted with a wink and a grin.

Sinclair did not find the statement so amusing. He poured himself a cup of thick, rich coffee and took a steady sip, looking at Carla over the top of the rim of the elegant china. “The market is open today, Carla. I thought that you would like to go. You might find a few things that you need.”

It was on the tip of Carla’s tongue to remind him that her money wasn’t useful here, but one quick look at Alexander’s interested face and she smiled in agreement. “That would be lovely. If you will excuse me, I have a few more things to take care of and then I will be ready to leave.”

“But your breakfast,” Alexander protested.

Carla lifted her cup of coffee and started toward the corridor that would lead her to her bedchamber. “I rarely eat breakfast. It was good to see you again, Alexander.”

Sinclair sat back in his chair and surveyed his cousin with a knowing smile. “My carriage only seats two or otherwise, I would invite you to join me.”

“You think I am trying to usurp your territory.” Alexander twirled a button on his waistcoat and cast a glance toward the chair Carla had just occupied. “She certainly is a beauty, but you should know me better than that, Cousin. I do not move in on another man’s woman.”

Sinclair snorted his disgust at the statement. “Really? Is that what you told to the husband of that…”

Alexander held up one hand to stop the reminder of his past. “Please do not continue. I am well aware of my indiscretion that evening. It is one of the reasons that I was brave enough to return to your home. I wanted to apologize to you. I know that I caused you a tremendous amount of trouble and then I left, departing like a thief in the night because I was not man enough to face the consequences of my action. I am deeply ashamed of myself.”

Sinclair debated whether or not to believe him. “And why should I trust you when you have betrayed my trust more times than not?”

Alexander winced at the direct attack on his character. Sliding his chair away from the table, he dropped his hands to his thighs. “I would imagine that I deserved that remark, but I am here, am I not? Would I have come to face you in person if I was not serious?”

Sinclair’s resolve wavered. “I suppose, since you are family, I have no choice but to forgive you, but hear me well, Cousin, if you are here with the intention of causing more trouble, I will personally ride you out of Heath Township.”

Alexander didn’t take offense. Instead, he grinned at his cousin’s solemn tone and extended his hand congenially. “Shall we shake on it?”

Sinclair clasped his hand. “And Carla is not my territory nor is she my woman.”

Alexander didn’t bother to hide his interest. “So you would have no problem with my taking her for a walk, making my own move toward a possible future?”

Sinclair’s lips tightened. “That is not what I said. If you would listen, you would have heard the underlying ‘yet’. Carla is not my woman…yet.”

Alexander nodded his head vigorously, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Now I follow you. This will be a hands-off visit.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Enjoy the market, Cousin.”

* * * * *

Diane walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Sam, what on earth has gotten into you? Why are you so angry?”

“I just spent the better part of an hour getting my ass chewed by your mother and do you want to know why? Well, I’ll tell you why. She thinks you’re carrying this crusade to find your sister too far. The flyers, the television advertisements, all that crap! She wanted this kept out of the papers. Now every nut in the city is calling with tips and you know what the last tip was? Some freak said he saw a UFO whisk your sister away in the dead of the night. So Sandra spent most of yesterday evening screening calls of that nature and you can imagine what kind of mood that put her in for today. I walked into the office and she let me have it with both barrels.” Fury darkening his eyes, Sam headed straight toward the wet bar in the corner of the den. “I swear she didn’t shut up even to take a breath and I don’t need to tell you what a bitch your mother is. She wouldn’t even let me get a word of defense in.”

Diane returned the towel to its hanger and sighed with despair. “Mother’s not all that interested in finding Carla. I am.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate getting dragged into this mess. Personally, I couldn’t care less if Carla is ever found.”

Diane was two steps into the den when his words sank in. “Sam, that’s a horrible thing to say!”

“What has your sister ever done for me? She’s always looked at me like I was something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. She had no use for me and I think it serves her right if she’s holed up with some hillbilly who’s using her for target practice.” Sam snickered and took a healthy swallow of the scotch.

Diane just stared at him. “You know, I really am starting to realize how much of a son of a bitch you are.” Then, spinning on her heel, she headed toward the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s for supper?”

“Whatever you want to fix!” The bedroom slammed shut, effectively silencing any further conversation.

Sam eyed the kitchen with a bleak stare. “Damn.”

* * * * *

Intent on her settling the reins between her hands and making sure the mare was comfortable with her weight, she missed Sinclair’s look of disapproval.

“What happened to the sidesaddle?”

Carla looked up then dropped her gaze back down to the serviceable brown saddle she’d managed to procure from Decker, albeit with a heated discussion. “I don’t ride sidesaddle.”

Sinclair opened his mouth to protest then closed it again with a shrug. “Very well. We will ride along the east ridge. I think you will like the scenery.”

“Is Alexander coming with us?” Carla swept a glance toward the castle.

Sinclair’s lips thinned. “No. He will not be joining us.” He kneed his own mount, a magnificent black stallion with a white stripe running down the center of his spine. “Are you ready?”

Carla hadn’t missed the slight edge to his voice and as she drew even with him, she turned her face to his. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Sinclair almost barked the response.

She let out a loud breath. “Obviously, something is wrong. Your mood just turned a dark corner.”

“You should be careful around Alexander.” The warning came out as a growl and Sinclair picked up the pace, guiding the stallion into a healthy trot.

Carla kept even with him. “You are worried that I am in danger from Alexander?”