Ghost Walk (20 page)

“My
great-great grandmother had an affair with Bela Lugosi.”  Grace shrugged
uncomfortably and photographed a bench.  “It’s probably in my DNA.”  Her
picture came up empty again.  “Crap.”  She kept moving.  “We need to stay
focused on the investigation.”  Being anything other than white-bread-and-tap-water
ordinary still made her uneasy, so it was obvious she’d rather not discuss her
acting skills.

But
from the sparkle in her eyes, it was also pretty damn clear she’d enjoyed the
prank.

He
gave her a knowing smile.  “You donea have to pretend to be normal with me, you
know.  You can be just as magical as you truly are.”

Grace
cleared her throat, ignoring that.  “Like I was saying, if Anabel had a connection
to Lucinda’s mystery man, a boyfriend would give us a place to start
investigating.  Especially if we could tie him to Clara, too.”

Jamie
was willing to play along with the subject change.  “You’re still thinking
about that H.C. from Lucinda’s diary?”

“He’s
our best suspect.”  She gave a pointed paused.  “Except for a certain spurned
lover with a bad reputation, obviously.”

“Anabel
was no lover of mine.  Setting aside her family’s lamentable IQs, her wig was
quite off-putting.”

“
Everyone
back then wore wigs.”

“Just
because a book told you that, doesn’t make it true.  Take, for instance, that
libelous tome Gregory Maxwell wrote about me being a killer.”

She
sent him an amused glance.  “For real, it’s okay to tell me if that’s not your
real hair.  Even if you were bald, I’d still let you do naughty things to my
naked body.”

“I’m
not wearing a wig, woman.  How many times do I have to bloody say it?”

She
snickered, clearly wanting to tease him some more.  As she turned a corner,
though, something caught her attention.  She stopped short and consulted Ned’s
godawful map, again.  Using that piece of rubbish, they were probably headed
for the Mississippi River by way of the Himalayas, so it was no wonder she
seemed confused.  They’d have better luck searching for the North West
Passage.  “Okay, hold on.  This part seems different.”

“No
doubt.”  It would be a wonder if they could escape the maze before nightfall
using all the random lines Ned drew.  Jamie fully anticipated having to
navigate their course home by the stars.

“No,
I mean I think there was once a wall here.  See?  Right there.”  Grace pointed
to some brickwork lining the edge of the path.  “This used to be a little
sitting area.”

Jamie
frowned and actually remembered that feature.  He looked around, seeing the old
arrangement of hedges in his mind.  Plants had died and re-grown over the
years, altering the landscape slightly, but it was all familiar to him.  “The
wall curved this way.”  He made a sweeping gesture with one hand.  “There was a
gazebo, too.  Couples used to stop here to steal a quick kiss.”

…Sometimes
more than a kiss.

Grace
sent him a suspicious frown and he smiled innocently at her.  Not surprisingly,
she wasn’t fooled.  “You were kind of a pizza-tramp back then, weren’t you?”

“I
just hadn’t met the right girl.”  That would take him another two-hundred and
thirty odd years.

She
snorted at that and lifted the camera again.  Someone had painted the old
bricks black, but it did nothing to hide the crime scene from Grace’s forensic
magic.  When she snapped a picture, the dark evidence of spatter of blood was
visible to even Jamie’s untrained eyes.

“You’ve
found it.”  He whispered, gazing at the small screen in awe.  “This is where
Anabel died.”

“Dexter
Morgan, eat your heart out.”  Grace beamed up at him, delightfully proud of
herself.  “For real, how awesome am I at this job?”

June
25, 1789-  I should never want to be a man!

The
power we women hold in our hands is far too intoxicating.

From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth

The
woman was back!

Jamie’s
body leapt to attention at the sight of her standing in his quarters.  A moment
before he’d been alone in his cabin on the
Sea Serpent
, taking bath. 
The next the woman was standing before him.  He wasn’t sure how she’d just
appeared
and he really didn’t care.  All that mattered was she’d returned to him.

Joy
filled him, his eyes drinking her in.

Her
dress was a great deal more normal, this time.  A trifle old fashion, but it
was no longer a scrap of fabric that barely shielded her soft body.  Mores the
pity.  Her uncovered skin had been the stuff of epic poems and romantic odes. 
Even all buttoned up, though, he’d never seen a lovelier lass in his whole
life.

Maybe
she truly was some otherworldly creature sent to tempt him.  And it was bloody
well working, because he would do anything the woman bid, so long as she
stayed.  Anything at all.  She was the one he’d been searching for.  He felt it
deep in his bones.

The
one blessed thing in the whole universe that belonged just to him.

“This
isn’t the garden…”  She turned to look at him, her eyes wide.  “Jamie!”  She
swallowed.  Sunlight shone through the porthole behind her, giving her an
angelic halo.  “Oh my God, you’re taking a bath.”  She slapped a hand over her
luminous eyes.  “I’m sorry!”

“I’m
not.”  Jamie got to his feet, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Grace. 
That was her name.  It had been whispering in his head, ever since she told
him.  What else would his savior be called?  His father would have scoffed at
the notion, considering Jamie’s list of unpardonable sins.  There would be no
grace for him in the afterlife.  Jamie knew that already.  But he had his Grace
here before him now and that was enough.

She
peeked through her fingers and swallowed hard when he didn’t reach for a
towel.  “The others times I did this, it dropped me in the same spots I left. 
I didn’t expect to be transported into your cabin, instead of the hedge maze.” 
She blushed a becoming shade of pink, trying to look everywhere but at his
growing erection.  “Really.”

“There’s
no need for concern.  You can come here whenever you wish.”

“Um… 
Thanks?”  She licked her lower lip.  “I guess.  Anyway, have you --uh-- seen
Anabel Maxwell recently?”

“Who?”

“
Anabel
Maxwell
, Jamie!  You danced with her at the ball and now she’s missing.”

“Oh
the Maxwell girl.  She’s not missing.  She’s probably at Lucinda’s funeral.” 
Which he wasn’t welcomed at, since half the town thought he’d killed her for
some damn reason.

Morons.

That
news distracted her for a beat.  “Anabel’s not dead?”

“Of
course not.”

“What
day is it?”

“July
first.”  He gave pointed pause.  “And --before you ask--  Yes, it’s still 1789.”

“Don’t
be a wiseass.”  Her swearing was bloody adorable, as was her frown of
concentration.  “Things are already different.”  She murmured to herself. 
“Last time Lucinda didn’t
have
a funeral, because there was no body. 
It’s changing.  This could actually be a good thing.  It’s only morning and the
killer won’t strike again until tonight.  I’m ahead of him now.”

Jamie
tried to piece that together.  “You know who killed Lucinda?”  It seemed
likely, since she’d known the murder was going to happen.  If Grace could give
him a name, Jamie would gladly run the bastard through himself.  Lucinda had
been a harmless girl and a good friend.  It was the least he could do.

“Not
yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Donea
go looking for a madman, Grace.”  Just the thought chilled him.  Bloody hell, why
was no one looking out for this daft woman?  Where had she come from?  Why did
she seem to know him?  How had the strange box she’d held outside Lucinda’s
house glowed without fire?  Not a single theory he’d come up with made sense.

Grace
ignored that, frowning in deep thought.  “Why did I get sent back to
this
spot, though?  There had to be a reason.”

“Oh
I can give you a reason, lass.”

Most
of the time, Jamie had no clue what she was talking about and he gave up trying
to decipher it.  Anabel Maxwell’s whereabouts were of no concern at all.  Not
when he finally had what he wanted standing right in front of him.

For
days, his entire focus had been on trying to find Grace.  After she entered
Lucinda’s bedroom, it was like she dissipated into thin air.  He’d been afraid
the murderer had made off with her, too.  No one in the whole bloody town had
heard of her, not matter how much gold he offered as a reward.  However the
hell she’d vanished, it was a sure bet she could do it again.

That
made it all the more important that he stake his claim
now
.

“I
think we need to find Anabel.”  Grace decided, chewing on her lip in a way that
made all the blood leave his brain and travel southward.  “Figure out what she
does between now and tonight to incite…”  She trailed off with a wary gulp as
he left the tub and stepped closer to her.  “Jamie?”

“I
know
you.”  He said quietly, ignoring all her muttering.  “And you know
me.”

She
hesitated and then slowly bobbed her head.

“How?”

“It’s
a little crazy.  You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He
smirked at that, thinking of fairy lights dancing in the Scottish hills.  “Donea
be too sure.”

“I…” 
She let out a long breath, her eyes drifting down and then jerking back up. 
“I’m from the future.  You’re going to know me in the future.  It’s how I knew
about Lucinda’s murder.”

Jamie
blinked, digesting that story for a long moment.  Her claim was preposterous,
but so was every other explanation for her presence.  He had no idea what kind
of magic she possessed, but he knew it flowed in her blood.  Hell, it
practically glowed through her skin.  God only knew what such a creature could
truly do.  Maybe she was telling the truth.

…Or
maybe she was a lunatic.

He
shook his head, not wanting to be distracted.  Regardless of what else she was,
he knew one thing for certain.  “You’re my wife.”

“In
the future?  No, I’m not.”

He
frowned in annoyance.  “Are you my lover?”  If she was telling the truth about
any of this, she could only answer yes.  Jamie knew himself.  If he’d ever met
this girl --past, present, or future-- he’d would have recognized her as his
and maneuvered her into bed.  It was a simple fact.

“Sort
of.”

The
way she spoke confused the hell out of him.  “Sort of your lover?”

She
bobbed her head.

He
moved closer to her, wanting her cornered and knowing it was about to happen.  Sure
enough, she took a small step back, coming up against the bookshelf.  A woman this
guileless had no business being a room with a pirate.  She’d already managed to
trap herself.  Surprise flickered over her beautiful face, but still no genuine
fear.

Jamie
smirked and put his palm beside her head, caging her in with his body.  “What
does ‘sort of’ mean?”  He asked casually.

“It’s
complicated.”  She got out in a wary voice, looking around and seeing she had
nowhere to go.

“Seems
simple to me.”  He untied the string of her bonnet with his free hand, tossing
it aside.  Thick, black curls tumbled to her shoulders and he nearly purred.  “Have
I been inside of you?”

Her
blush got even deeper, just as he’d hoped it would.  He’d never been alone with
such a wholesome lass before.  It was charming as hell.  “No.  But you’ve
touched me.”  Her eyelashes fluttered down and it was all he could do not to
rip her clothes off right then.

“
How
did I touch you?”  He wrapped a finger around the silver chain at her neck,
smiling at the whimsical mermaid pendant she wore.

Her
pulse was pounding in her slim throat, but she looked up at him again with
absolute faith.  It was an intoxicating combination.  Most women who sought him
out liked the danger of being with a dangerous man.  They liked the fact he was
frightening.  Grace was nervous, but she wasn’t scared of him.

In
that second, Jamie knew she believed everything she said.

There
was no reason for Grace to have any confidence in a man of his illicit
notoriety.  Not unless she somehow
knew
he wouldn’t hurt her.  Unless
she
knew
she belonged to him.  Unless she knew he struggled with
gentlemanly impulses, beneath his bad reputation.  To her, he wasn’t a soon-to-be-forgotten
scoundrel she was using to shock her parents.  He was…

Husband
material.

The
strange words flited through his head and, while he wasn’t exactly sure what
they meant, he knew they were true.  Grace didn’t see him as just a passing
diversion.  She trusted him to care for her.  To keep her safe.  She knew that
Jamie belonged to her, too.

His
heart melted.

The
woman would have being running for her life with any other man, but she gave
the most notorious pirate in Virginia a bashful smile.  “You brought me to… um…
pleasure.”  She explained in a rush.  “But I couldn’t bring you.”

“Well,
that’s a shame.”

“I
wanted to, but it wasn’t really possible, because…”  She trailed off and puffed
out a breath.  “It’s
really
complicated.”

He
shifted close enough that she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal.  He
nudged her gently, grinning a bit as she jolted in innocent surprise.  “This
time, I’ll simplify it for you, then.”

Wide
brown gaze slashed back up to his.  “I’m not going to sleep with you, James
Riordan!”  She protested.  “Absolutely not.  I’m on a mission here.  Jesus, you
really do have a one-track mind, no matter the century.  And I can’t
believe
you haven’t even put pants on.  You’re trying to get me all befuddled!”

But
she still didn’t try to push past his naked body and flee the room.  Instead,
her attention drifted downward to the straining evidence of his desire and
stayed there.  Those small white teeth nibbled at her lower lip again.  Whatever
she thought they had done in the past (or future) she hadn’t seen him naked
before.  He could tell by her hesitant fascination.

The
version of Jamie Riordan she’d met
clearly
needed to learn a few things.

“Is
it working?”  He asked, letting her look her fill.  “Are you feeling
befuddled?  It only seems fair, since just being around you makes my brain
cease functioning.”

Her
tiny pink tongue touched the corner of her mouth.  “Um… Speaking of which…”  She
seemed to be trying to rally.  “Do you think you could drink this for me?”  She
dug in her pocket and came up with a vial of some unidentified green liquid.

He
arched a brow.  “Drink it?”

“Yeah. 
I know it sounds sketchy, but it will help you remember me.  Really.  Before
you say no, just take a few minutes and listen to me explain some of this,
okay?”  She gave an earnest nod.  “And if it helps befuddle you, you can --um--
touch me a little bit while we talk.  The other you said to offer that and it seems
like a good idea.  Honestly, if you’re not thinking clearly, it’ll probably…”

Jamie
snatched the potion out of her hand and belted it back.  It tasted like shit,
but what the hell?  It was still far better than the watered-down ale at The
Raven.  He tossed the glass container over his shoulder and arched brow.  “No. 
Still donea recall you, love.”

“Oh
for God’s sake!”  She looked exasperated now.  “You seriously just drank that,
without even asking what it was.  I could have been trying to poison you, you
idiot!  Did you even think of that?”

“You’re
not here to hurt me.”

The
confidence in his tone took the wind from her sails.  “No.”  She admitted. 
“I’m not.”

“You’ve
come to save me.”  He continued, knowing it was true.  “Yes?”

“Yes.” 
Her eyes drifted south, again.  “I came back for you, Jamie.”

“And
it’s about bloody time you got here, too.”  It was in Jamie’s nature to take
all he could, regardless of propriety or common sense.  It was the only way a pirate
got anywhere.  He was going to push forward as far as he could until Grace gave
him an outright refusal.  And so far the lass wasn’t refusing.  “You have no
idea how long I’ve waited for you to show up.”

Reaching
over, he grasped her wrist, drawing it forward.  That remarkable jolt of power
went through him again, just as it had the last time he touched her hand.  God,
he couldn’t wait to feel it on his shaft.  Grace’s breathing gave a hitch and
she instinctively tried to yank back from the hot flesh.  Jamie ignored her shy
struggle, pressing himself into her hand.