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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
512 Forest Lake Drive
Warner Robins, Georgia 31093
A Break in Time
Copyright © 2007 by Michelle Miles
Cover by Anne Cain
ISBN: 1-59998-473-3
www.samhainpublishing.com
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2007
A Break in Time:
The Adventures of Ransom & Fortune
Part Two
Michelle Miles
Dedication
For Indiana Jones and Han Solo—without them, Dane Fortune would never have been born.
Acknowledgements
This book would not have been possible without a few very important people in my life.
Thanks to my Best Good Friend, Nickie, who kept telling me not to panic and keep going no matter what.
Thanks to Sandy J, for finding the out-of-character moments, and Sandy S, for her delightfully devious brain.
Very special thanks to Devon, my Druid expert, for cracking her whip and keeping me on track.
I couldn’t have done it without you!
Part One:
Trapped in Time
Prologue
It was the perfect plan, or so Conner Dade thought. He’d go back in time and stash Jacob Ransom’s journals from the lab with all of his notes, his design plans, schematics, everything. He even had a prototype of the time bender. And then…there would be no such thing as Ransom Research and Development. Conner would be the one to invent the time bender. Too bad the plan didn’t work. Or at least, he couldn’t make it work.
Conner poured a scotch on the rocks and salivated at the taste of it when there was a knock on his door. Granted, he didn’t live in the nicest neighborhood, but it was still odd to have a visitor. He wasn’t the most popular person at Ransom Research and Development.
He peered out the peephole and into a face he didn’t recognize. The stranger wore black-rimmed glasses, his hair thinning on top. “Who is it?” he called.
“Mr. Dade?”
An eerie feeling coursed through his veins. His hair stood on end.
“Mr. Dade, I realize the hour, but it is imperative you talk to me,” the man said with a hint of a British accent.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Perhaps you could open the door?” he suggested. “Instead of me shouting through it.”
Warily, Conner opened an inch and peered through the crack. The man gave him a jovial smile, placed his hand on the door and tried to push it open.
“May I?”
“First, tell me who the hell you are.”
“Charles Ridgewood. And I assure you, you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Against his better judgment, Conner swung open the door and allowed him inside. Charles Ridgewood strode inside, a briefcase in his left hand. He placed it on top of his coffee table and unlatched the locks, flipping it open.
“You want a drink or something?” Conner asked, even though he didn’t want to give up his best scotch to a stranger.
“Thanks, but no. I don’t drink.” Ridgewood held up several books. “Do these look familiar?”
In the half-light of his fleabag apartment, he knew exactly what the man held. Conner’s blood ran cold. “How the hell did you get those?”
“I found them where you stashed them.” He grinned broadly. “You should really find a better hiding place than under your bed, Mr. Dade.”
Conner glanced toward his bedroom.
“Don’t bother to look,” Ridgewood said. “I assure you, they aren’t there. They’re right here in my hand.”
“How did you get them?”
“You ever consider some security in this place?” Ridgewood plopped the journals back into the briefcase and shut it. “You should. Because in a few hours, your hit man is going to kill you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I really don’t know how I can make myself clearer. You hired someone to kill the Ransoms. All of them. I’m here to tell you, Dane Fortune puts a bullet in your head.” Standing up, he reached into his pocket and handed him a small object. It couldn’t be more than the size of a ballpoint pen and it looked suspiciously like Jacob Ransom’s drawings of his time bender.
“The time bender?” Conner asked.
“Yes, of course. I’m sure you’ll be dismayed to know I beat you to the punch.”
“Are you saying this is one of Jacob Ransom’s time benders?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Mr. Dade.”
Conner gave the man a close, hard look. And suddenly it all came flooding back to him. He remembered him well from Ransom Research and Development. He and Jacob had got into a nasty fight and Jacob had fired him on the spot.
“Of course. I remember you now.”
“I had a feeling you would.” Ridgewood gave him a thin-lipped smile. “I have a business proposition for you that will not only save your life but make you a very profitable man.”
“And what might that be?”
“I built this time bender from Ransom’s blueprints. This is a prototype, the first of its kind. I’ve been using it for years traveling back and forth between times. I have a very successful sugar plantation in 1701 Brazil, but I need help. And that’s where you come in.”
Conner laughed and walked to his kitchen, snatching up his scotch. “I fail to see how I can help you with a sugar plantation in the eighteenth century.”
“I need someone who can captain a large ship.”
“A ship? Like what? A pirate ship?”
“Exactly.”
Conner laughed outright. “I’m afraid you have the wrong man because that someone isn’t me. I’m a physicist not a goddamn pirate.”
Ridgewood flipped open the briefcase once again, pulled out a thick file and tossed it on the coffee table with a thud. “You’ll want to read everything in that file.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it contains valuable information that will keep you alive, Mr. Dade.”
“And if I don’t read it?”
“Then take your chances.” Ridgewood snapped the briefcase closed once again, locked it and snatched it off the coffee table. “Use the time bender and meet me at the destination noted in the file. I’ll explain everything then.”
With that, he strode out of the apartment, the door slamming behind him. Conner downed his drink in one swallow, the amber liquid burning to the pit of his stomach.
He knew, without a doubt, he had to go.
Chapter One: Dreamscape
Emily Ransom’s face flashed through Dane Fortune’s mind as he tumbled through time and space. When he killed the burglars at the café, her look of relief had been short-lived. She thought he had saved her from certain death. Her expression changed to fear when he pointed the gun at her head. Her eyes, so much like Skye’s, widened just before he fired and the light was extinguished from them forever.
Killing Jacob had been much easier. He hadn’t seen the man face-to-face, so Dane had nothing to haunt him. But Emily kept appearing in his sudden nightmares. Emily, who had the same
copper hair with golden highlights and deep indigo eyes as her daughter, Skye.
It had been so easy to kill them—after all, he was just doing what he was told to do. But if he had to go back and do it all again, he didn’t think he could. Not now and it was because of Skye. She had changed him, made him feel again. He had been numb for so long, he had forgotten what it was like to feel.
His dreams changed from Emily Ransom to a woman he hadn’t seen in a very long time—Olivia. Her image came to him perfectly clearly, with her sun-kissed skin and her large brown eyes. She smiled, her hair cascading over her shoulders.
Olivia… Her death had spurred him into action. It made him the man he had become and why he had sought justice for those who couldn’t for themselves. Like her. After he buried her, he had shut off his emotions and learned to function without feeling, refusing to allow himself to get close to anyone. He could live in a world without emotion, without feeling.
Dane, I’ve missed you so.
Dane startled awake, the dream leaving him breathless. As his eyes blinked open, his first sense of his surroundings was the oppressive humidity. A thick canopy of trees filtered out the sunlight overhead. He could hear a strange cacophony of birds, beasts and other unseen animals.
The sunlight pattern drifted over Skye, who was still tucked into his arms, her head under his chin. She slept, her dark lashes against her face, her lips slightly parted. Her long wavy hair tumbled over her breast. One hand held her against him as if he’d never let go; the other clutched the time bender. Holding it up, he could see the green display still malfunctioning with the scrambled date.
Figures. He tucked it in his breast pocket.
He had definitely thawed out since their escapade with Nyan and his mother, Ilsa. He and Skye had agreed to leave without telling them goodbye. It was easier that way.
And besides goodbyes just suck, Skye had said.
The last thing he remembered was pulling her close. She had slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek for luck.
A lot of good that did.
For all he knew, they were in the prehistoric age.
He did a mental inventory of his body parts and found nothing hurt. They were fortunate enough to have landed and avoided injury. This place was warm and humid, possibly a rain forest. Who knew what kind of hostile natives roamed these parts? They had been lucky so far in Scotland, and then with Nyan and Ilsa. How long before their luck ran out?
It had been days since he had a nicotine craving. He still wanted a cigarette, but at least the craving had abated. His last one had come when he rescued Skye from Sovold.
He closed his eyes, listening to the cawing of a bird overhead. He should have never kissed her to begin with, dammit. But looking at her, touching her, he had to know what those beautiful lips felt like, what she tasted like. She didn’t disappoint, either, and it was why he had to stop kissing her. He had turned and slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.
But then she pounded on the door, her voice demanding. And he whipped it open to find her standing there. He couldn’t resist her—or his desire—any longer. When he took her from behind, her soft curves molded against him as though she was made for him. And when Skye spun to face him, wrapping one long leg around his hip—
He shut off that part of his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to remember that perfect kiss or the way she felt from the inside, couldn’t allow himself to feel anymore. Yet Skye had broken the dam and his emotions flooded through him like a tsunami. The damage had been done.
She shifted, a small sigh escaping her lips, yet she remained sleeping. He examined her features. Her brows creased with her dreams. Flawless, creamy skin, small pert nose, high cheekbones, pointy chin. He had memorized her face from the photo in the file Conner Dade had given him.
That seemed a lifetime ago now.
Skye flinched in his arms and started awake, her head lifting. Wide indigo eyes met his as she pushed herself upright. Reluctantly, he released her as she rolled off him. She stared at him before she visibly relaxed. Her chest heaved as she expelled a lungful of air.
“You all right?” he asked. Her sudden absence from his arms left him feeling empty. He reached for her, but she shrank away.
“I had a nightmare.” She wouldn’t look at him as she dragged her hands through her tangled hair then massaged her forehead. “Where are we anyway?”
“I don’t know.” He peered overhead. “A jungle somewhere. Are you hurt?”
“No.” She inspected her limbs, searching for cuts and scraps, but found none. “You?”
“No.” He got to his feet, brushing the leaves from his pants. Somehow, they had landed in this place without as much as a scratch.
“You still have the time bender, I hope?” She got to her feet, brushing dirt from her clothes.
“Right here, safe and sound.” He patted his shirt pocket. When she looked at him, he noted the dark circles under her eyes. He grasped her hand in his. “Let’s take a look around. See if we can find out where we are.”
Skye allowed him to lace his fingers with hers, relishing the feel of his roughened palm. Following him through the brushy path, she kept her eyes fixed on the ground. The dream she’d had disturbed her. She hadn’t really thought about her mother in a while but now…now the dream brought all the memories back.
Something strange had happened to her. She had seen her mother’s death as clearly as if she had been there. Heard the words, You saved my life. Thank you. Then Dane’s deep resonant response and then the gunshot. Perhaps all this time travel was playing mind tricks on her.
I could really use a shot of Jagermeister.
But the dream quickly morphed from her mother’s death to a strange woman she didn’t recognize, yet somehow she knew her name was Olivia. Tall, smiling, beautiful, and she had spoken to Dane.
After that, the image ended abruptly. She puffed out a breath and puzzled over the oddity of the dream. Shoving away the disturbing images, she focused on other thoughts. Like her and Dane in the bathroom. Leaning back onto the lavatory, her leg around his waist, her hand curling in his hair and their simultaneous climax.
He feels as good as he looks. And that chest…that glorious chest with that baritone voice rumbling around in it. Just remembering nearly made her swoon.
“So, where do you think we are?” Sweat trickled down the side of her face and she swiped at it with her sleeve.
Before Dane could answer, a loud roar startled her. Jumping, she squeezed his hand and gripped his arm, pulling herself as close to him as possible. He stopped and turned to look at her. One corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin, lighting up the clear green depths of his eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“That…roar. I don’t like wild beasts, Dane.”
“It’s the jungle, sweetheart. Relax.” And he continued to smile that cocky-assed grin. “Let’s keep going.”
Still holding her hand, he headed through the foliage. He shoved gigantic leaves out of his way, which made them pop back in place, nearly hitting her in the face.
“Dane!”
“Sorry, doll.”
To keep it from happening again, she held her free hand out in front of her.
“Dane, can I ask you a question?” Because she had to know the answer. She had to know who this Olivia person was and if she meant anything to Dane.
“Sure.”
“Who is Olivia?”
He stopped abruptly and spun to face her. He released her hand before gripping her arms, his fingers biting into her flesh.
“Where did you hear that name?” He clamped his jaw then, the muscles flexing. Black rage flickered over his face.
“I…” Her throat knotted. She hadn’t expected that reaction and she was afraid to answer him.
Releasing his death grip on her arms, he stepped back. He ran his hand through his black hair, spiking it on top and making him look dangerously sexy.
“Skye, where did yo
u…how did you…?” He couldn’t decide which question to ask and his words dwindled away.
Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she could answer either of his questions had he asked them. All she knew was the name Olivia was associated with Dane.
“Who is she?” Her voice squeaked.
His eyes took on a dark look. “Where did you hear that name?”
“I…I dreamed it, I think.”
The silence between them made her want to squirm. He scrubbed a hand over his face, his skin bristling against the growth of beard.
“I knew her once,” he said.
Knew? Was she…?
He wasn’t going to elaborate, as much as she wanted him to. She propped her hands on her hips. “And?”
His gaze met hers. “And nothing. Don’t ever mention that name to me again.”
Was she one of your hits? Did you kill her, too? Like my mother and father?
She pursed her lips, wanting to ask the questions aloud. Her sensible brain told her to keep her mouth shut. But then, Skye wasn’t all that sensible at times. For instance, time traveling with a hit man…who was incredibly hot.
“Right,” she said.
He started through the brush again. But Skye couldn’t stop thinking about the woman or the dream she’d had of her mother. How could she see something so clearly she knew nothing about?
“Dane, how did you kill my mother?” she blurted.
Skye was never one to keep quiet about anything. And this time could prove to be a fatal error. He reeled on her again.
“Why are you asking me these questions?” His voice boomed through the jungle, startling overhead birds that flapped their escape.
Skye wished she could do the same. His usually sharp green eyes had turned cold and hard. The muscles in his jaw still twitched. Not good.
“Because I have to know.”
“All that’s passed now. I told you I would fix it when we returned to our time and I will.”
“That’s not why I’m asking!”
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