Time Travel Romance Collection

by Grace Brannigan

  "'Isabeau."

  She jerked upright, a small cry leaving her lips.

  Pierce.

  "What? I was just watching the clouds a minute. You startled me."

  "Are you all right?" he called down to her.

  "Of course. Just tired."

  "That's all?"

  She nodded, massaging her calves, flexing her legs experimentally, rotating her ankles. "Just fine," she said airily.

  "You can tell me. I know I've been hard on you."

  Isabeau looked up at him, at his silhouette on the top of the bank. She raised her brows in surprise. "I'm fine. Why? Are you tired?"

  "After a day in the saddle, yes. I guess I'm ready for a good night's sleep."

  She wasn't sure she believed him; after all, he spent a lot of time in the saddle at Hawk's Den. He did look tired, though. Maybe he had slept about as well as she had the night before -- which was almost not at all. It made Isabeau feel a little better.

  She stifled a yawn. "Me, too," she admitted, not minding if she fell asleep right where she was. She strove to make her voice as neutral as possible. She would like nothing better than to curl up next to him.

  She shook herself, trying not to flinch. She felt ready to die.

  "So I'll clean up, then be back up there," she said, hoping he would take the hint and walk away. Even with her strained and aching muscles and as tired as he looked -- he still looked damned good -- she felt like jumping on him.

  "If you're sure." He hesitated, and for a moment Isabeau wondered if he had read in her face the lascivious thoughts crowding her head.

  "Yup." She made herself get to her feet and bend toward the water.

  He took the hint and disappeared from her view.

  As soon as she knew he was out of sight, Isabeau collapsed.

  After a moment of sheer determination, she righted herself, mustering enough strength to splash her face and neck, actually feeling better equipped to face two eagle-eyed men after the bracing coldness of the water.

  Now, all she had to do was climb back up the hill.

  #

  "What do you think?" Malry rested his saddle and blanket on his hip, then let them drop to the ground. Turning back to his horse, he checked to make sure the tether was secure.

  Pierce sighed, poking at the fire he had started. "I'm giving her another ten minutes, then I'm going down there to carry her up here if I have to."

  "She let on anything?"

  "No. She acts as if everything's just fine."

  "Well, maybe it is. Maybe --"

  Pierce shook his head. "I could see the pain she was in, but she won't say anything. She's mulish enough to want to prove me wrong. She more or less gave her word she could do it, and she will."

  "Or die trying," Malry said with a low laugh. "Aye, Cap'n, you two make a good pair."

  #

  The second day started early, almost on the heels of the sun rising in the sky.

  Isabeau woke groaning, feeling sore, but once she got moving around her muscles loosened up.

  She was ravenous, her stomach growling with embarrassing frequency. She had not eaten last night, but more or less lost consciousness when she had found her blanket and curled into it.

  It had taken Isabeau quite awhile to climb up from the creek. To her relief, Pierce and Malry had apparently not noticed the length of time she had been gone, as no snide comments had been forthcoming from Malry.

  After eating, they were ready to leave in no time at all, but Isabeau didn't see Malry anywhere.

  "What about Malry? Shouldn't we wait for him?"

  Pierce led the way back out to the dirt road.

  "He's ahead of us."

  Isabeau frowned. "He left already? How will you know which way he's going? What if we miss him and he can't find us?"

  Pierce looked amused, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. How come she had never noticed before he had laughing eyes, so expressively warm...

  He hadn't shaved, and the dark growth of beard made him look even more dangerous and sexy as hell…too much so for her peace of mind. She looked down the road instead, shading her eyes.

  "We've talked extensively about the route we're taking. In fact, Malry's from this area."

  Isabeau turned back to him. "Malry's from New York?"

  Pierce nodded, nudging his horse forward.

  "How did he and Hawk meet?"

  "It's a long story."

  "Malry told me that once, too. I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you tell me?"

  "Too long a story for today," he said, pulling his hat down over his eyes.

  Shrugging, Isabeau turned her attention to the scenery. "I'll ask Malry."

  It was a new day, beautiful, fresh, the landscape around them glorious. If only circumstances were different. She'd love nothing more than the adventure of taking an overnight camping trip on horseback with Pierce, no timetables, no rushing to work. They could watch the sun go up and then set on the horizon.

  Isabeau knew it sounded too good to be true. At the back of her mind lurked the real problems and dilemmas; their situation was complicated, whatever the outcome might be.

  She tried to keep the facts straight in her mind, but sometimes it was unbelievably confusing to remember this wasn't where she belonged. When had that happened? This feeling of belonging had crept upon her slowly.

  What if this really was some kind of elaborate dream she was having? What if Pierce and everyone else turned out to be a figment of an overactive imagination?

  Isabeau watched Pierce's back, straight and strong in the saddle. He was riding ahead of her now, throwing a glance her way now and then. Isabeau wondered if he was afraid she'd get lost or something. Hardly. She was determined to cling to him like a burr.

  The leaves were beginning to bud on the trees, but in Virginia, they had been out in bright greenery for some time, the flowers blooming in the already warming days.

  New York had had such harsh winters of late, spring seemed to take forever to come, and then before you knew it, fall was there and winter was right around the corner again. Spring in her time anyway.

  Isabeau was instantly alerted when she heard a high pitched, keening whistling in her ears. She kicked her horse forward. The animal crow-hopped in surprise, pushing up against Pierce's mount. As Pierce turned toward her, several shots rang out from behind them. The loud noise startled the horses and they bolted.

  Off balance, Isabeau pulled back on the reins, checking her horse's instinctive response to flee. Spinning her head to look back, she couldn't see anyone.

  In the next instant, Pierce grabbed her reins and they were bolting toward a cover of trees dead ahead, the horses eating up the distance.

  Isabeau's position in the saddle was precarious and she hung on tightly, her balance off after the startled hop the horse had executed when the shot rang out.

  "Hang on!" Pierce's shout came back to her as they suddenly swerved into a denser belt of trees. Ducking her head, she felt limbs brush her head and the back of her neck as the horses darted like barrel racers around trees and stumps.

  Isabeau lost a stirrup, felt herself leaning too much to the right, and clung desperately to the horse's pumping neck, praying the headlong dash would stop soon.

  It stopped abruptly, even quicker than she could have anticipated. Pierce's horse, directly in front of her, came to a sliding halt three feet from the edge of a sheer drop off.

  Isabeau's horse stopped, but not before it ran up on the other animal, the momentum driving Pierce's mount to its knees. The first animal recovered quickly, regaining its feet. The animal's chests were foam-flecked and heaving from the exertion.

  "Isabeau, are you all right?"

  She nodded, releasing her death grip on her horse's mane and dropping the short distance to the ground. She felt thankful she hadn't been crushed between the two horses.

  She pushed the sweaty hair from her eyes with both hands as she dropped cross legged in the dirt.

  Pierc
e quickly dismounted and knelt beside her, reassuring himself she was unharmed. He immediately ran a hand over his horse's knees.

  "Get back on -- I don't dare stay here." He had a rifle resting in the crook of his arm, something she hadn't noticed before.

  Isabeau climbed stiffly back into the saddle. Jamming her hat back on her head, she twisted the drawstring under her neck.

  "Did you get hurt?"

  "No, I'm okay." She turned sideways in the saddle, absently patting her horse's sweating neck. "It sounded like it came from behind us." She scanned the hills behind them. "Did you see anyone?"

  "No."

  She heard another horse approaching. Malry rode toward them at breakneck speed. He, too, carried a rifle. He glanced sharply at both of them. "Are you both okay?"

  Pierce remarked grimly. "If Isabeau's horse hadn't acted up, the bullet whizzing past my ear might've found its mark. Did you see or hear anyone?"

  "Two riders heading fast in the other direction. Couldn't see their faces. I got a third one." He jerked his head back the way they had come.

  "I'll come with you." Pierce looked at Isabeau. "Wait here."

  "What? Are you crazy? I'm coming." Reining her horse in a tight circle, she broke into a trot before he could stop her. She didn't have to look at him to know he was exasperated with her. She supposed she couldn't blame him.

  "I'm not staying behind."

  The man lay in the middle of the road, one leg twisted back, as if he'd taken a violent fall from his horse. She swallowed hard.

  Pierce dismounted, then pulled the neckerchief from the man's face. Pierce straightened with a shrug. "Don't know him. We'd better get moving. The longer we stay here the easier a target we'll be."

  "Aye," Malry agreed. "Should probably pick up the pace a bit too."

  Shivering, Isabeau wondered at the identity of the dead man. She turned back once, saw Malry going through the dead man's pockets one by one.

  "Are you okay?" Pierce asked beside her.

  She nodded without speaking, but the sick feeling didn't go away.

  Malry caught up to them a short time later. Without a word he handed Pierce a scrap of paper. Pierce looked at it, then made a tight fist, crumpling the paper. Impatiently, he dropped it on the ground, the horse's hooves treading it into the dirt.

  "What is it?" Isabeau asked, dread rising within her as she noted the disgusted expression on Pierce's face. "What did the paper say?"

  "It was only an address." He didn't say anything more, as if that were the end of it.

  "Whose address?" she prompted. She had to know.

  "Our business offices in Virginia." Pierce shook his head.

  "I'll alert the authorities in the next town," Malry said. "They'll have to deal with the body."

  "But won't that delay us? Surely they'll ask questions?" Isabeau said.

  "We'll have to see," Pierce said, "but Malry has connections."

  Further conversation ended as Malry broke into a canter, and they followed suit. Isabeau thought about the paper and the man who lay dead on the side of the road. A heaviness settled on her, one she couldn't shake. They didn't have to be close to Hawk's Den for the danger to find them.

  As they moved briskly along the dusty, rutted road, Isabeau looked at the set faces of the two men. She knew there would be no stopovers tonight.

  The pace was no longer easy; it now bordered on grueling, for the riders as well as the horses. She had elected to come. She'd have to keep up.

  Mid-afternoon they stopped briefly to water the horses at a river crossing. Isabeau splashed her face and hands, feeling the dust clinging to her, her hands filthy from the reins and the sweat of her horse.

  Malry came to stand beside her, the reins of his horse trailing the ground near his feet as he checked the horse's hooves for stones.

  "I already checked," she said when he came over to her mount. "He's okay."

  "And how are you, lass?" he asked, brows raised. Isabeau thought she detected a real note of concern on his grizzled face.

  "Fine."

  "I believe you mean that."

  "Why shouldn't I? I have no complaints, except for that business this morning. It's unsettling, seeing a man dead on the ground, besides which I get cranky when bullets fly by my head."

  "We all feel the same, that's why Cap'n wanted you to go a different route."

  She shook her head, setting her jaw mulishly. "He's not getting rid of me that easily. I don't care how hard the pace is."

  "Not like yesterday, hmm?" he asked slyly.

  Isabeau looked quickly at him. She nodded, tongue in cheek. "The weather yesterday morning was awful. It's much better today."

  Malry's laughed with amusement. "You wouldn't complain, would you? It was a hard pace yesterday too, yes it was. I pity the lad, I really do. I'll wager every bone in your body ached like the devil." He chuckled, looking over at Pierce as the other man checked the provisions in the horse's pack. "You're giving him a run for his money. One thing I'll say, life will never be boring."

  Isabeau smiled, but her thoughts turned inward. What hope of a future was there, boring or otherwise?

  "If you're ready, we'll get going."

  Pierce was beside them, already mounted and impatient to be on his way.

  #

  Isabeau stretched, taking in the light just creeping in her window. It was early yet. Too early to get up.

  She closed her eyes, her thoughts immediately on Pierce, his face clearly before her.

  They had reached Washington in the middle of the night. Deciding not to venture any further, they had found lodging at a small inn just outside of the city. The horses were tired, and Pierce's mount had started to limp, no doubt from the jarring his knees had taken that morning.

  After seeing her comfortably settled in her room, Pierce had disappeared. Isabeau had no idea until dinner that evening that he had borrowed a fresh horse from the owner of the inn and ridden into the city.

  Malry had simply told her Pierce had business in Washington. Shortly after that, Malry, too, disappeared. Isabeau assumed they informed the authorities about the dead man.

  Pierce had seemed preoccupied most of the day before. Isabeau wished they could get to the bottom of the plot against him. The same questions kept going around in her head. She had no answers.

  A slight sound interrupted her thoughts. Isabeau didn't know what it was, but in the next instant her door quietly opened.

  It was dark along the wall where the door was located. Isabeau saw a large shadow enter the room and stealthily close the door.

  She sat up, clutching her meager covering to her breast as she felt around for the warming brick she'd used earlier.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As Isabeau slid to the edge of the mattress, brick in hand, the intruder stepped in front of the half-light coming in the windows.

  "Pierce." She dropped the brick and it made a loud smacking sound on the wooden floor.

  He raised a brow. "I'm glad to see you're armed."

  She stretched languidly, unable to hide the satisfaction she felt at seeing him. As he came toward her she saw he was fully dressed.

  "We're going to get an early start." He stopped beside the bed, not looking at her, but staring instead at the clothes she had placed on the bedside chair.

  "Right now?"

  Pierce heard the soft response. He tried to ignore the intimate whisper of the bedcovers as she moved. He nodded stiffly then he turned to leave.

  "Pierce, wait." She sat up and the covers fell to her waist. The only thing she wore was a shirt of his. It was unbuttoned and he could see her skin as the shirt gaped open.

  Provocatively, Isabeau dropped her voice. "Have you called Malry yet?"

  Despite his good intentions, Pierce moved closer. "What?"

  "Have you waked Malry yet?" She crushed the bedcovers between flexing fingers, wanting to reach out and touch him.

  "Not yet."

  "Well, then," she came to her knees
and leaned toward him, close enough to hear him breathe and catch his scent. "There's time."

  "Time?" Pierce continued to look at her, feeling his body's immediate response to her proximity.

  He groaned at the same moment his fingers slid up over her ribs. Short, feathery wisps of hair clung to her lashes. She looked sexy, alluring, and innocent all rolled into one. Pierce put one knee on the bed, bringing her slim body hard up against him.

  He had deliberately not looked at her, knowing in his heart what would happen, what was happening. Instant heat and desire coursed through him.

  Isabeau splayed her fingertips over his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt.

  Together, they lay on the bed, her soft breasts brushing his arm, her body moving restlessly against his.

  Isabeau needed his warmth, knew she had to seduce him. Once started, she couldn't stop. Having come this far, her senses wouldn't let her quit. She must have dreamed of him all night, she just wanted him close to her.

  "We have time," Isabeau said huskily, pushing her lightly clad body up against his. "I'd like a kiss." She put her face against his. Pierce's palms rested on her shoulders and he slid the shirt from her.

  He felt as if he had not touched her in so long. His body felt starved for her. The sun inched across the bed but neither one of them noticed as he let his lips play across hers.

  With a groan Pierce came down on top of her, crushing her slight frame into the cushioned surface of the bed. With a guttural sound, Isabeau squirmed, loving the feel of him hard against her.

  Where she had been the aggressor, he now ravished her mouth, fingers gently kneading rounded curves, lips paying homage to sensitive spots, hard planes and angles grinding feverishly against softer flesh.

  Isabeau stretched her legs, wriggling against him, pulling the buttons of his shirt free, running her palms joyfully over the hair roughened skin of his chest. Her fingertips followed the fine pelt as it arrowed down into his breeches. She could see the bulge below.

  Wetting her lips, unable to contain the tremor of anticipation rippling through her, Isabeau looked up at him and found his eyes following the movement of her tongue.

  "Isabeau." Half protesting, half groaning, Pierce kicked off his boots, which made a satisfying sound as they thudded against the wood.