Timeless Heart (10 page)

Jerrod shook his head. He had managed to mangle
that quite thoroughly.

Chapter Six

Sandra pulled down the covers and removed her
robe, throwing it across the room. Climbing into bed, she pulled
the blankets up over her naked skin, the skin that was still
tingling from Jerrod’s sensual administering. Bastard! At first she
was shocked at his words, even hurt. Now, she was frigging
angry.

Part of him had died? She turned over on her
side, and caught a faint whiff of Jerrod’s spicy scent embedded in
the pillows. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She would
never get that enticing scent out of her nose as long as she lived.
Who in hell was she kidding? She would never get Jerrod out of her
system as long as she lived. It stung that he was thinking of
himself as some gigolo. But, as her anger dissipated, she could see
where a proud man of means, a man with responsibilities and honor,
would feel demeaned. Her first instinct was right, he would never,
ever be happy here, he would lose so much. His home, his family,
his pride, his self-esteem.

How could she declare her feelings now, when it
was obvious he did not feel the same? She wouldn’t.

After this stupid experiment with the lightning
failed, as she knew it would, she would take Jerrod to Brian. Maybe
he could help. She had to get Jerrod back to 1821, and fast. Before
he smashed her heart into pieces.

****

Since he couldn't sleep, Jerrod decided to take
a bath. He lounged in the tub, one long leg dangling over the side
as always. Sandra had showed him the shower contraption, but old
habits died hard. He preferred a bath. He did his best thinking
while in the bath, always had. He took them daily, it was part of
his ritual. He usually worked up a sweat around the estate and the
mines. Pendern was such a part of him, it was in his very marrow.
He was not an idle man. How in bloody hell would he occupy himself
in this world? No estate farm or copper mine here. What else could
he do? Except service Sandra like some stud bull. He punched the
water in frustration.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Jerrod,
can I come in? I'd like to talk."

He closed his eyes. Even her voice, soft, kind,
and full of determination, had his insides roiling, his body
hardening. Maybe he was some stud bull.

"Enter."

She walked in, dressed only in the robe. He
knew instinctively she was naked underneath, making him react even
more. A quick glance into the tub and she would see him at full
mast.
Bugger it.

She pulled over that basket that one put soiled
clothes in and sat on it, her legs and arms crossed, almost
protectively. "If you didn't want to make yourself come in front of
me, you should have said something."

He threw back his head and roared with
laughter. "My dear, I'll do it again right now." He reached into
the water and grabbed a hold of his granite hard cock. "I have no
compunctions about anything to do with the sexual act. I attended
an orgy once. At an Earl's party, wretchedly debauched." His hand
moved slowly over his cock, as if he were stroking a sated cat. "I
was drunk enough to participate. Two women at once? Delicious. But
when some man joined us, and he was only interested in stroking my
skin, I departed. To each their own, in one's own bedchamber. But
publicly like that, I could not abide it. He wasn't a bad kisser
though."

Jerrod glanced up to see the shocked look on
Sandra's face. He didn't know what possessed him to tell that
story. The man had grabbed him and slipped his tongue into his
mouth before he could even react. He was shocked and disgusted, but
mildly amused. And maybe just a touch curious. He had let the kiss
go on seconds longer than he should of, just to see. It really did
nothing for him, another man. He had been silently relieved. But he
was a firm believer in live and let live. If two men derived
pleasure from each other, he hardly saw it as a hanging
offence.

"Then what...why were you so pissed
off...angry?"

He let go of himself, and crossed his arms
behind his head. "I explained. Or perhaps I did not explain myself
at all clearly. I feel lost, useless, helpless and utterly out of
my element. I am not Jerrod Ross any longer, I barely even feel
like a man. Can you not understand what it feels like to be plucked
from the only life, the only world, I had ever known, and be
dropped down into...this?"

Her lovely face took on a pained expression. He
was making a mangle out of this again. "Please, do not mistake me.
I am eternally grateful it was you, my darling Sandra, who took me
in. You believe me, and I cannot express what that means to me. You
are doing everything you can to assist me. And yet, here I sit,
wallowing in self-pity. Forgive me, I was not aware I was inclined
to these morbid thoughts, but here we are. I am feeling sorry for
myself. I ache for my life. My family. It is if I am in
mourning."

"But, there is still a chance..."

Jerrod gave a sharp bark of bitter laughter.
"We both know this 'plan' is riddled with holes. It finally came to
me tonight, with a stark clarity: I am never returning to my time.
I am a prisoner to the future. A slave, dependant on you, Sandra,
for my survival, for every morsel of food. The clothes on my back.
It goes against everything I am. It rankles. It bloody
hurts."

Sandra felt her heart tighten. Did she really
think a man such as Jerrod would just accept his fate? She wanted
to jump into the tub with him, hold him close and tell him that she
loved him deeply, would do anything to make him happy. But truly,
what would make him happy would be to go back to his home and his
own time. They were starting to talk in circles. She picked up a
washcloth and dipped it in the water. "Lean forward, I'll wash your
back."

He did, and her hand made slow circles over
every muscled plane. Before she could stop herself, she said in a
low voice, "So, I mean nothing to you then."

She could feel all those bands of muscles
tighten under her touch. Oh, why did she say that? The seconds
passed like hours.

Finally, he spoke. "I never said I did not
care, quite the contrary. But I cannot think of that now, until I
know for sure if I will be leaving...or staying. "

Sandra dipped the washcloth back into the warm
water and continued her task, a task that had a decided dampness
collecting between her legs. Even just the feel of him. She was
hopelessly gone.

He suddenly reached and grabbed her wrist.
"Enough...thank you." His voice was raw, husky. She glanced down
into the water. His proud cock stood tall. "Yes, Sandra, I want
you. I always want you, I always will. But I don't think it is a
good idea right now." He took her hand and brought it to his lips,
the barest of contact. It burned and singed just the same. "Take
your bed. I will go into the other room. We both need
sleep."

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She could
not speak, she just stood and left him, closing the door gently. So
much for some fairy tale ending. Jerrod had not even so much as
hinted at the prospect of her going with him. When push came to
shove, could she do it? Leave everything behind? She honestly did
not know.

Chapter Seven

Two days had passed, the longest since Jerrod
arrived that they had not made love, had sex, had any physical
contact at all. He stayed in his room, reading and sleeping. The
conversations over dinner were stilted and distant. Jerrod picked
at his food, eating little. And when Sandra brought him a few more
pieces of clothing, he merely curled his lip in distaste and
grudgingly took them to his room. But he did not wear
them.

In fact, he shocked her this morning by coming
out of his room in those buff colored breeches and tall boots with
his shirt left open enough to show a tantalizing amount of muscular
chest. His hair, which he had been wearing loose, was tightly tied
back. He looked every inch the Regency Squire, which no doubt was
his intent. He was clinging to his identity. She could not fault
him for that. His face was hard set, his eyes hardened chips of
blue ice. For once, she could read no emotions on his
face.

Sandra suggested that they go for a drive,
maybe down the coast, the south shore of the province. The leaves
were starting to turn all shades of red, gold and yellow, quite
beautiful, but he waved off her invitation. Not unkindly, just in a
flat tone of indifference. After he drank his cup of tea, he
returned to his room.

Sandra flopped onto the sofa in disappointment.
A faint rumbling could be heard the in the distance. Thunder? She
looked out the window. Ominous gray-black clouds were forming, the
rumblings becoming less distant and a little louder..
Oh God.
No. Not now.
She did not want him to go. But he was determined to try. A wave of
inexplicable sadness washed over her. She called him into the room,
and told him they could try later, watch the storm develop.
"Then we shall."

"Jerrod, the chance of lightning striking
again, is one in...in the hundreds of thousands!"

He shook his head, as if dismissing her odds.
"I must try," he replied in a determined voice.

She gulped deeply. She wanted to cry, get down
on her knees and beg,
don’t leave me
. She knew she would
never find a man like this. Ever. Her life looked barren and cold
and empty in the years ahead without him.

Jerrod looked at her, his frosty blue eyes
softened for the first time in a couple of days. He took a couple
of steps toward her, reached out and cupped her cheeks. Oh God, she
loved it when he did that, like she was precious, prized, worthy of
his intense scrutiny. Everything melted into mist when he looked at
her like that. She could almost believe a fairy tale ending was
possible.

He leaned down and captured her lips with his,
with that urgent softness she had gotten to know so intimately
these last two weeks. He moved back and forth, tasting every inch,
plunging his tongue deeply, thrusting. The kiss grew hungrier. She
tried to not respond to this hot assault on her mouth, but it was
useless. She flung her arms around his neck, and her tongue curled
about his possessively, drawing him deeper. A low, guttural moan
escaped the side of his mouth. He reached down with his hands and
cupped her ass, slamming her against his hardened cock.

This was too much. He was too much. She fought
for control, and finally harnessed it. She moved her hands from
around his neck and placed her palms flat on his chest. She could
feel his heart banging against her hands, a frantic rhythm. He
began to move his hips. Enough. She pushed with all her strength
until their lips broke apart.

Jerrod opened his eyes, he looked confused,
desire boiled in those blue depths. She couldn't let this go any
further. A clean break. She couldn't bear his touch, his kiss, his
body. It would it make saying good-bye all the more terrible to
endure, knowing she would never feel him near ever again. Her heart
already wanted to break in two, in fact, it felt smashed in her
chest now.

"I think it best we just leave," she said, a
little more coldly than she felt. He stepped back. "As you
wish."

The mood between them was cold, distant.
Neither of them spoke for the twenty-five kilometers out to the
wooded area where they had first met, the only sound in the car the
rain lashing against the windows.

Sandra could not believe the carriage was still
there, hidden in the woods. Could only they see it perhaps? She
shook her head in confusion. But there it was, barely visible
through the cluster of pines and underbrush. She secretly wished it
was gone, either by some stroke of fate or some other intervention.
That way, Jerrod would be stuck here, with her. God, she was a
selfish bitch, but she couldn't help it.

Parking her SUV, they both walked deeper into
the woods, the rain was now heavy and stinging cold. There were
loud and continuous rolls of thunder getting closer. Both of them
were soaked. Sandra blinked her eyes, trying to keep the water out.
The carriage. Black, gold, ominous and beckoning. Untouched, like
it had been waiting for Jerrod's return.

She looked at Jerrod, his white shirt plastered
to his chest like a second skin from the rain. She felt sick, sick
to her heart and soul.
Tell him
...that voice hissed.
Tell
him not to leave! Tell him you love him and can't live without him!
Beg him if you have to.

Jerrod smiled wanly, gently caressing her cheek
with the first two fingers of his right hand. Sandra exhaled. Oh
God, she could not ask him to stay. She was about to say something,
when a crack of lightning snapped overhead.

"Quick, Jerrod, get in the carriage!" Sandra
bellowed.

He paused, then turned and sprinted toward the
carriage. They did not even say good-bye, it would hurt too much.
Her fist came up to her chest. Pain, raw, pain.

It hit her, then and there, she loved him
enough to leave it all, leave everything, for him. She didn't care
where they ended up as long as they were together. She ran for the
carriage, reaching for the handle. She was going to go with him.
Wherever. Whenever. She made the decision that quickly. She was
that certain. Jerrod was her life, nothing and no one else
mattered. "Jerrod, wait! Wait for me!" she screamed above the din
of thunder and lightning. It swirled all about them now, one of the
most vicious storms she had ever seen.