Time's Enemy: A Romantic Time Travel Adventure (Saturn Society Book 1) (36 page)

Tony listed away and regarded her from the corner of his eye. “Are you sure?”

She cast him a wan smile then looked down at the quilt, tracing her fingers along a seam. “Quite sure. Unfortunately.” If he belonged in her time, if he didn’t have to go, if it weren’t such an economic impracticality, she’d give anything to have his baby. But it wasn’t possible. “I have... female problems. My sister does, too, she’s been married for fifteen years, no children. And as for myself, well... you know I ran with a racy crowd, and... I’m not exactly innocent.” She thumbed her quarter, trying to gauge his reaction.

He sat without moving. Didn’t he understand what she was saying? She gulped. “There was a fellow in college...”

Tony regarded her silently. Waiting. Listening.

Her fist clenched and unclenched a wad of blanket. “I’m... I’m not... a virgin.” There, she’d said it. Hated telling him, but he had a right to know.

“So?”

She released the blanket. He didn’t care, and it was all right. “Well... I never became pregnant, though we never tried to prevent it. He would have married me if it did happen. But I’m glad it didn’t.” A lump formed in her throat. Would Tony reject her, too?

Tony gathered her into his arms, his hands warm and gentle on her back. “Maybe I’m a selfish ass, but, I’m glad, too.” He swept the quilt off the bed, then leaned in to drop a trail of light, feathery kisses down her neck. His hands trailed down her front to take up where he’d left off with the gown. In seconds, he unbuttoned it the rest of the way, then slid the straps off her arms and tossed the gown onto the floor.

She never wore panties to bed. Both sat still as his gaze traveled over her body. Far from feeling exposed, she felt caressed, cherished, treasured. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

She tried to respond, but nothing came out. Finally, he stood and slipped off his drawers. “So are you,” she managed.

And he was. Maybe not built like a bodybuilder, but perfect for her.

He tumbled back into bed. She lay down as he crawled toward her and positioned himself over her, then braced herself for the burst of pain she was sure would come. It had been a long time since Louie.

But instead, he rolled to the side and trailed a finger down her neck, her chest, over her breasts and down her belly until he reached between her legs. She hadn’t realized how moist she’d grown until he slipped a finger inside, rubbed it in her wetness. Her hips jerked involuntarily. “Oh, my gracious!” What an incredible sensation he made just with his finger. He withdrew it and hovered over her again. She waited for him to complete the act but he surprised her once more. He clutched her hips and rolled over, holding her against him, until she straddled him. Finally he lowered her until she settled onto him. “Ohhhh,” she sighed, and he made a matching groan. It didn’t hurt at all. He slid inside her with surprising ease, despite the fact he was more than adequately endowed.

His hands guided her backward and forward while his hips rocked up and down. “Charlotte...” he breathed. Something inside her swelled. She could float away if he let go. Joy. Pure, unadulterated joy, like nothing she’d ever felt before. She leaned down until her breasts brushed his chest. Her nipples hardened from the sensation of grazing the fine mat of curls there. She reached up and raked her fingers through his soft hair, and their mouths came together again.

They moved together endlessly. This moment could go on forever. She’d never tire of feeling him inside her, of the warm, firm hold of his hands on her hips and roving over her body, or the heady sensation of power she felt at his every moan, each gasp, each heavy breath. She didn’t think it could get any better until a tightness built down low, and she clenched around him until all of a sudden her whole body shuddered.

He held her hips firm until her spasms subsided. She brought a hand to her bosom. “Oh my heavens!”

A wide smile drew across his face, then he tensed beneath her.

“What?” she asked.

“Turn over,” he rasped.

She relaxed, her body pressed to his, while he rolled her onto her back, still joined with her.

He raised up on his arms and thrust in and out of her. She lifted her hips to meet him, surprised at how much tighter it was, yet it wasn’t painful, only more intense.

He moved faster and faster until he went rigid, his face tensed, and it was over. He relaxed and leaned down to kiss her, lingering for long seconds, then finally rolled off her.

They lay side by side, their hips touching. He reached for her hand, and twirled his thumb around hers. After his breathing slowed to normal, he rose and retrieved the quilt, then spread it over them, clutching her body to his. She’d almost drifted off to sleep when the lamp sputtered and went out. She listened. Heard only the pitter patter of a light rain and Tony’s breathing.

“Tony?”

“Mm?”

“The storm... it’s over.”

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that another storm—one of fear and danger and running—was just beginning.

Charlotte shivered as she blinked at the sunlight filtering in through the open door, though the cabin wasn’t cold.
Whatever it takes...

She’d been dreaming.
Theodore.
She’d been dreaming of him. She’d been talking with him, in his lushly decorated office at the Society House—of what, she didn’t know, because the dream fled when she woke.

Why had she dreamed about Theodore? She sat up in bed, and the covers slipped down to reveal her naked breasts.

Warmth flooded her as memories of the night before rushed into her mind.

Tony.
An eerie chill ran through her body. Good heavens, what had she done?

Whatever it takes, she heard Theodore say.

It was what he always said when he asked her help in apprehending one of Time’s Enemies. All the times she’d played the floozy to entice a criminal to the Society House... A different kind of burn rose inside her at the memory. Thank heavens it had never gone further.

Until now.

Whatever it takes.
Theodore would think no less of her for tempting Tony with her body.

No.
Inviting Tony into her bed had nothing to do with the Society. Nothing to do with who he was to Theodore. There was one reason she’d asked him to make love to her.

Because she wanted to.

It had been everything she’d imagined and more, a sense of two souls entwined along with their bodies in a way she’d never imagined possible.

The day seemed brighter than those that had come before, a crisp, clear portent of things to come, of contentment that went beyond simple happiness. Pure joy.

Strange, how a few days ago she’d had to push aside worries about what the neighbors would think, her allowing a man who wasn’t her husband to live with her, albeit as a boarder. Yet away from the world and its judgments—not to mention Theodore and the Saturn Society—everything was right, if only for a short time. In their tiny, insular domain of the cabin and the surrounding wood, the woes of the world seemed far away. Though the cabin was primitive and lacked any luxuries, she and Tony had everything they needed—most of all, each other.

She loved him.

She tossed back the covers, jumped out of bed and hurried to the door.

A tantalizing scent of fried eggs drifted on the breeze. Outside, utensils clanged on cookware. Charlotte gripped the doorframe and peered out hesitantly.

Tony crouched next to the fire and flipped over some sliced potatoes in a frying pan. He wore only his drawers. Charlotte’s hand curled and uncurled at the memory of brushing her hand up the fine hairs of his chest. And he was cooking breakfast. Her insides contracted. No man had ever done that for her, not even Papa. He’d had a housekeeper until Mabel had grown old enough to cook. Tony flipped an egg. He leaned back and startled when he saw her.

A big grin lit up his face. He’d be able to see her perfectly in the daylight with his glasses on, but Charlotte refused to shrink away. “Stand there much longer and breakfast’ll be burned.” His words washed away the last of her misgivings.

Her smile grew but she didn’t move.

After they made love, dressed, and ate breakfast (which Tony took off the fire and reheated), he suggested going for a walk.

At her request, they took the upper trail. They walked through the wood until they neared the dam site, then sat on a log overlooking the construction site, where WPA workers shoveled gravel, dirt and river silt.

“All this is under water in my time,” Tony mused.
His
time. To which the pull would soon force him to return.

“What’s it like?” Charlotte asked.

Tony made a sweeping gesture. “All this is a huge lake. There’s a big campground on the far end, and a marina... it’s a beautiful lake. Maybe not this beautiful, but...”

“What’s Dayton like?”

“The same in some ways. Different in others. The statue at First and Main’s still there, and so is the old courthouse.” He told her about the performing arts center that would go up where Rike’s was.

“What about my house? What’s it like in the twenty-first century?”

He regarded her from the side of his eye. “Gone. Torn down to make way for I-75.”

Confusion washed across her face. “What’s—“

“A superhighway,” he explained.

She fiddled with the quarter. “What does it look like?”

“I-75? It’s eight lanes—”

“No, I mean where my house was. Is.”

“Concrete. Nothing but sloped concrete. The highway’s above the city, and where your house sits, there’s six pillars that support the road. This big.” He stretched his arms into a semblance of a bear hug.

Charlotte gazed toward the dam workers. Her house, gone. She supposed that was the price of progress, something she normally favored, but the idea that she wouldn’t always live there brought a sinking sensation to her belly.

Finally, they walked back down the trail. She didn’t speak until they were almost to the cabin, when something else occurred to her. “Tony? When I found you on my front porch, after I carried you in... you called me Violet. Why?”

Tony stopped and she stumbled into him. “What did you say?” he asked.

“You called me Violet.”

“I did?”

She laughed, but it came out a nervous titter. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“I was pretty out of it, if you’ll recall.” The workings of his tripped-out mind from the warp, no doubt. He said as much to Charlotte as he resumed walking. “You do look a lot like her.”

“Who is she?”

“She’s the one who caught me when I started to slide down the pyramid. She works in my office. She uh, helps people with technical problems.” A grimace flashed across his face, as if he’d said something he wished he hadn’t.

Charlotte’s ears perked up. “What sort of technical things?” She drew up beside him, determined not to let him evade the question.

“Things like the calculator. It would take a while to explain.”

Charlotte laughed. “I have time.”

Tony slowed. “Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea... letting you in on technology ahead of its time—”

“What can I do? I’m just one woman. Surely I—”

“You build things in your basement. I’ve seen the books you read. Sometimes one person is all it takes.” He shot her a stern look.

Fine, she could change the subject, then circle back around to it when he wasn’t so guarded. “This Violet. Is she someone special?”

Relief slipped over Tony as they emerged in the clearing near the Fishin’ Shack. “Yeah... but not in the way you are.”

Warmth coated Charlotte’s insides, and she couldn’t stop the sappy grin from stealing onto her face.

“I was thinking of going down to the river to take a bath,” he said. “Want to join me?”

Her joy dissipated at the thought of all that water, pulling at her, trapping her in its grip, sucking her under... “N- no thanks, I’ll stay here.”

“You sure?” She nodded. “Because we could do more than just wash.”

She wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t do that.

He took the fork in the trail to the river by himself.

Tony unbuttoned his shirt and had just unbuckled his belt when he remembered.
Soap.
With a sigh, he trudged back up the trail.