Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (123 page)

He was teasing her!

“
You have reading to do
first,” Viviane declared as sternly as she could and Niall’s grin
flashed.

“
I do not believe we agreed
that I should stop trying to persuade you in the interim,” he said
silkily, then bent and kissed her before Viviane guessed what he
was about.

She was trembling in her boots when he
lifted his head and Niall had to know it. He started to whistle,
striding along the street as though he didn’t have a care in the
world. Viviane didn’t know whether to kiss him or kill him - he was
so sure of her response.

And so good at cultivating it.

In a bittersweet irony that neither of them
appreciated, their next stop was at the drugstore.

For toothbrushes.

*

Niall watched Viviane stride down the street
to return to her labor, admiring how those green boots accented the
slender perfection of her legs. With a sigh, he slipped back to
Mouats, readily finding the woman who had been so helpful. She
smiled at the sight of him and Niall knew he had been right to seek
her aid.

She easily guided him through the choices of
clothing and rendered him not only presentable, but she announced
‘delish’. This apparently was good. She also recommended a
restaurant which was ‘divine’ when Niall confessed to wanting to
impress his lady.

He returned to Viviane’s chamber, fed and
well-garbed, then carefully brushed his teeth with his new brush.
’Twas not unpleasant to run his tongue across the smoothness of his
teeth, though he quickly thought of running his tongue across the
similar smoothness of Viviane’s and nigh forgot himself.

Niall considered her book. Aye, Viviane had
been irked that he had not read more of it, despite more practical
obligations. Niall pushed his mail aside. He sat on the edge of the
bed and began to read the volume one more time.

And within moments, he was snared once more,
for his lady had a skill unexpected. Each page he turned drew him
more deeply into the tale, each scene ensured he must read just a
bit more.

Indeed, Niall read until the midday sun
slanted through the window, and was surprised to find himself yet
sprawled on the bed. His knee was aching at being bent in the same
position for so long, his belly was complaining at its empty state,
but Niall could not put this tale down.

Nay, he wanted to know what became of
Gawain, how the noble knight fulfilled his daunting quest, how he
proved himself to the lady whose heart he had made his own. Niall
wanted to know how Gawain would prove himself worthy of that
glorious and gorgeous damsel, no less how he would best the Green
Knight at tournament.

He rolled around on the bed and read some
more, ignoring more earthy complaints. Each time Gawain and his
lady kissed, Niall’s loins heated in recollection of Viviane’s
sweet kisses. When they coupled - a mating filled with too much
chatter, to Niall’s thinking - he smiled, for his own lady’s
maidenly naiveté was clearly revealed.

Though she proved to have a rare imagination
for these encounters. Indeed, he put the book aside after the
couple’s third mating merely to consider whether the deed
could
be done that way.

There was naught for it, he and Viviane
would have to try.

Each time that Niall thought he would stop
reading, that he would gather himself and go to the bookstore or
that he would labor a little upon his mail, the tale lured him
back.

Aye, the battle scenes were clearly penned
by one who had never witnessed the filth of war, though they were
filled with excitement. ’Twas a weakness quickly forgiven, for the
men and women in the tale seemed true to life. Aye, Niall knew
better than to trust the chatelaine of the court, for that man had
a scheme to see Gawain dead, there could be no doubt.

Just when the sky grew darker and he was
certain he should put the manuscript aside, the tale surprised him
and there was no chance of halting his course. Indeed, Niall sat up
straight when the lady gave of herself to ensure her knight’s
survival. She drew herself into danger to see Gawain safe and,
though Niall cried out in dismay, she did not repent of her
course.

This could not be!

Yet further reading revealed that in the
same moment, far afield, Gawain put himself into similar jeopardy,
intending only to ensure his lady’s survival.

Nay, it could not be so! They could not
both
die, one could not die and be left without the presence
of the other - but indeed, it seemed that death would not be
cheated in either case. Niall read in a frenzy, he turned the pages
in increasing haste, until he turned the last one, his heart in his
mouth.

But the ending of the book was not
there.

Niall’s eyes widened, he felt abandoned at
the lip of a precipice. He scanned the chamber, rifling through the
few other papers on the table beneath the window but did not find
what he sought. He looked beneath the bed, certain he must have
dropped part of the tale, but there was naught.

’
Twas then Niall recalled
the tale was his lady’s concoction.

Which meant she alone knew the ending.

“
Viviane!” he
roared.

*

He raged into the bookstore like an avenging
angel and every woman froze to stare. Niall of Malloy was a vision
in jeans that showed every muscle to advantage and a creamy
chambray shirt that only made him look more broad, more tanned and
more blond. The broad gold bracelet on his wrist gleamed, his eyes
shone, his lips were taut.

Viviane’s mouth went dry at the sight. Niall
cast one glance around the shop, spied her and cut a path straight
to her. Nothing could have stood in his way and she found herself
thinking of Gawain in her own book, riding to the rescue of his
lady with fire in his eyes.

She hadn’t begun to do Niall justice in that
scene.

“
Viviane!” He halted before
her and propped his hands upon his hips, blissfully unaware of the
whispers that had begun in the shop. “I am reading this book of
yours, but there is no ending.” He scowled. “Where is the end of
the tale?”

“
I haven’t written it down
yet.” Viviane tapped her temple. “It’s still in here.”

“
Aye? Tell me of
it!”

“
I can’t. I have to write
it down.”

Niall shoved a hand through his hair,
leaving the waves askew in a boyish fashion. “But what happens to
those benighted souls? Tell me that neither one nor the other died
alone, much less for naught!”

Mrs. MacAllister eased her gouty leg closer,
her eyes narrowed. “You wrote a book?” she demanded of Viviane.

“
Well, yes, but it’s not
finished yet…”

“
What kind of a book?
What’s it about?”

“
It’s a romance…” Viviane
began but Niall interrupted her.

“’
Tis a sweeping tale of a
knight endeavoring to win the favor of his lady fair,” he answered
firmly. “A tale in which all goes awry despite that valiant man’s
efforts, a tale which no man with a heart could willingly put
aside. ’Tis a compelling tale that snatches one in its grip and
does not surrender until the last page is turned.” He locked his
intent green gaze on Viviane. “And then one learns that the ending
is not there.”

Viviane swallowed. “I haven’t had a chance
to write it down, but I will. I promise.”

“
Aye, you will,” Niall
punctuated his words with a telling glance. “For I would know the
ending of the tale.”

“
Because of our wager?”
Viviane asked, hoping that Niall didn’t just want to have a final
answer to his proposal.

He frowned. “Nay! I want to know the
resolution of the tale! Indeed, you cannot leave me to fret for the
hide of that knight, no less the woman he swore to win for his
own.” He drove his fist into his palm. “They are both in dire peril
and I must know the ending of their tale.”

“
Oh, it sounds so good!”
Mrs. MacAllister’s eyes were cat-bright. “When do I get to read it,
my dear? You know how I love a good story.”

“
Well.” Viviane looked away
from Niall with difficulty. Honestly, he looked as though he would
stand right there and wait for her to scribble down the end of the
book! “I guess I’ll have to find a publisher, right,
Barb?”

“
Uh huh. Look, there’s a
book right here, a market guide for writers.” Barb pulled down a
fat volume from another section and strolled closer, thumbing
through the back. “There’s usually a listing under the index of
romance publishers…”

Niall scooped the book out of her hand,
scanning the column under Barb’s finger. “Aye? And what does one
do?”

“
Well, you send them the
book. Not the original, a copy, and they decide whether they want
to buy it. At the front, it usually talks about format and stuff,
and each listing tells what the publisher likes to see.”

Viviane reached out a hand for the book, but
Niall shot her a dark look. “You have a tale to commit to the page.
I shall read this volume while I wait the ending of yours.”

“
And then what, Viviane?”
Mrs. MacAllister demanded. “Are you going to be a famous author?”
She giggled, looking markedly younger than her years and dug her
elbow into Niall’s ribs. “She might not even admit she knows us
then!”

“
Nay, Viviane is not of the
kind who believe themselves better than their fellows, simply by
dint of a stroke of fortune,” her knight insisted, a small smile
curving his lips as he warmly considered her. Viviane felt herself
blush. “After all, the lady was born under a blue moon and has been
uncommonly lucky all her days.”

There was no mockery in his tone, not a
shred of skepticism, only affection shining in his eyes.

Oh, he had understood!

Viviane’s heart began to pound and she
couldn’t look away from his gaze. “Did you really like it?”

Niall smiled fully and folded his arms
across his chest, his gaze turning indulgent. “Do you imagine I am
irked at not knowing the ending because the tale had no merit? You
did a fine job, my lady, indeed, you are most talented.”

“
Oooo!” Mrs. MacAllister
squealed. “Isn’t this
exciting
? We’ll have our own
author!”

“
Well, the book isn’t ready
to go anywhere,” Viviane argued.

“’
Tis true enough,” Niall
agreed pointedly. “It has no ending.” He turned to Barb. “Do you
know the books of these publishers?”

She led him toward the shelves, chatting
about this publisher and that one. Viviane followed, she and Mrs.
MacAllister pointing out the books they particularly enjoyed. Niall
quickly learned where to look for the publishers’ addresses and was
compiling titles against the listings in the market book in no time
at all.

Mrs. MacAllister
toodle-ooed
and went
on her merry way - no doubt to tell anyone who would listen about
Viviane’s book - and Barb made a run to the bank. Niall hauled a
chair across the shop and settled in the romance section. He began
to examine the books in turn, focusing on those adorned with
knights and damsels, and was busy making sense of it all by the
time the store closed.

Viviane was itching to ask him again whether
he had liked her book, whether he had recognized himself and all
that good stuff, but she didn’t know how to do it. So, she worked
and he worked, and she watched him through her lashes until she
couldn’t stand it any longer.

Then she took a deep breath and crossed the
shop.

And in the end, she didn’t have to say
anything at all.

*

“
This is of similar ilk to
yours,” Niall declared without looking up from the volume he
perused when Viviane came back to his side. “For it concerns a
knight, though your tale is finer.”

A part of Viviane hated that she was so
unsure of her work, but she couldn’t help asking for Niall’s
praise. “You really liked it?”

Niall glanced up at her and smiled. “Aye,
Viviane, you have a rare gift for making a tale take flight from
the page. You paint an image with words with rare talent.”

Viviane smiled back, three-quarters
reassured. She locked her hands together, knowing she had to ask
the question she’d rather not. “Is there anything you
didn’t
like?”

Niall pursed his lips and considered her, as
though wondering how honest he should be.

But Viviane had to know. “Really. I’d like
you to tell me. If I could change something to make it better, I’d
do it because I want to send this to a publisher.”

She hunkered down beside Niall when he
didn’t say anything, intent only on explaining herself. “I mean,
wouldn’t it be wonderful to see my book like this! People like Mrs.
MacAllister would be able to read it and I’d have a job doing
something I really liked. Not that I don’t like working in the
shop, but I don’t want to be a burden on Barb after she’s been so
nice to me and all.”

“
This is of great import to
you.”

“
Yes.” Viviane’s mouth went
dry as their gazes held and the silence stretched long.

Then Niall nodded in understanding. “They
talk too much abed, to my thinking, for there are more interesting
matters to attend with one’s mouth in such circumstance.”

He winked unexpectedly and Viviane dropped
her gaze, remembering all too well the interesting things he had
done with his mouth.

Niall cleared his throat, his fingers
rifling through the manuscript again. “And your innocence is
evident in some of their couplings.”

Viviane’s cheeks heated. “I can fix that
now.”