You're being selfish, she told herself. If conceiving a child was God's will, she would have another baby. But the very human, weak part of her wanted to keep Grant to herself for months. She wanted time to watch Colin grow and prosper from his recent surgery. She wanted to learn more about this time in which she'd live.
Dear God, please let me live my life in this time--in Grant's time, she silently prayed. Surely, now that she was married in the eyes of the church, she'd be able to stay forever.
Yes, she would stay forever. With a renewed sense of hope, she pushed away from the bed and walked silently into the bathroom. She closed the door, then searched the wall for a light switch.
When the lights over the sinks came on, she gasped. Mirrors reflected the fixtures over the twin sinks--and her very naked, flushed-pink body. She pivoted in the center of the room. The bath was as extravagant and lush as the rest of the apartment, from the gold fixtures to the huge, soft towels. Both a tub and a shower, much like she'd seen in a decorating magazine, nestled between closets.
Well, she'd just have to get accustomed to such luxury. Grant obviously enjoyed such things, so it was her duty to do the same. One thing that she wasn't used to yet was the expensive jewelry. She wouldn't dare remove her wedding ring, but the pearls . . . However, when she tried to work the clasp, they refused to cooperate. She'd have to wear them to bed and get Grant to remove them in the morning.
She washed as quietly as possible so she wouldn't disturb him, then turned out the light and eased open the door--walking right into the very solid, warm body of her husband.
"Grant! You frightened me."
His eyes gleamed in the candlelight. "Did I? Is that why your heart is beating so fast?" he asked as he placed a hand on her naked chest.
She looked at his large, tanned hand against her skin. She was naked! She'd forgotten that small detail as he'd surprised her in the doorway, but now the realization that stood before Grant wearing only the strand of pearls filled her with a strange mixture of excitement and fear. Would he find her attractive now that his lust had been satisfied? Or would he find her body less than appealing?
She shouldn't care--vanity was a sin--but she couldn't help wondering. So she looked back into his eyes and found them glowing with a desire as strong as before.
"Grant," she whispered, leaning toward him as his hand moved lower, circling her back, pulling her against his warm, aroused body.
"I missed you," he said simply before his mouth lowered.
She met his kiss, her lips parted, hungry for the taste and feel of him. He wore no clothes, just the musky smell of their lovemaking. She found the essence stimulating in the extreme. The part of her that had been so gloriously satisfied not so long ago leaped to life again, craving Grant's touch.
This time, when he carried her to the huge bed, he took his time. He kissed his way down her body, over her milk-swollen breasts to her navel. And when he ventured lower, she tugged on his shoulders and urged him to stop. But he didn't. He did things to her that made her crazy with need. She'd never imagined that a man would do that. But oh, he kissed her so privately, so shamefully, that she cried out, begging him for release.
He surged inside, moving slickly and strongly as she held him tightly with her arms and legs and listened to his whispered words of encouragement. This time, he didn't need to touch her intimately to take her over that high ledge and let her soar. She cried out his name as she fell through a special night sky filled with thousands of stars. And Grant was with her on that extraordinary journey, calling her name, bringing her gently to rest on a bed of lace and roses.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Facing Grant in the light of day, knowing that he was watching her, was one of the hardest things Erina had ever done. Every time she looked at him she remembered what he'd done to her--and what he'd taught her to do to him in the wee hours of the morning. She was in a constant state of flushed cheeks and suppressed smiles as they drove toward Galveston.
Colin cooed and played in his car seat. He'd been a little angel, Mrs. Parker had said this morning as they picked him up from Grant's mother's house. And Mrs. Kirby . . . she looked at the two of them as though she knew what they'd done in the dark hours of the night.
Now, as they crossed the high bridge over the bay, Erina no longer felt a sense of panic at the height. Maybe it was just because she'd ridden in the Cherokee several times before, or maybe it was because she felt immensely relaxed and confident for the first time in years.
They pulled into the parking garage of UTMB minutes later.
"I talked to Sam Reynolds and told him about the wedding. I'll be sending a copy of the certificate over later today. I'm sure that will go a long way toward getting your status settled."
"I couldn't bear the thought of havin' to leave you . . . now."
Grant smiled, his eyes hooded in a very sexy way. "I may never let you out of my sight--at least not for forty or fifty years."
While she wanted to lean toward him, kiss him just one more time, Colin let out a angry wail at sitting so long in the Jeep.
"He's making his wishes known this morning," Grant observed, the dimple still in his cheek. "I guess he's jealous that I took his mommy away so long yesterday."
"Under most conditions, I'd agree with him that I'd stayed away too long. But I just can't be agreein' with him this fine day."
"It is a fine day, isn't it?" Grant asked as he reached in the back seat and unfastened Colin from his car seat. "Just the first of a lifetime of fine days."
Colin's checkup didn't take over an hour. Dr. Cook pronounced him well, healing with no problems. He wanted to see him again in a month, but that was just routine, Dr. Cook said. Colin didn't even need any more medicine.
Erina left the hospital feeling as though another part of her life was falling into place.
"What would you like to do with the rest of our day?" Grant asked as they walked toward the Jeep.
"I'm not sure," she said, thinking of the many sights she hadn't seen yet. She'd wanted to ride the new trolley, walk on the beach, visit the homes that had survived the hurricane and the years. "Wait, I know!" she said, suddenly excited. "Can we visit Kirby House? I'd love to see how it looks now."
Grant looked at her a little strangely, but nodded. "Of course. I'm sure they're having tours all day."
"Good. I so want to see the place again. I'd forgotten how much in the past few days, with all the excitement of the wedding, but when I saw your mother's table, I remembered so much of how it used to look."
"You know what I'm going to say, don't you?"
"That you don't believe I'm from the past. I know. But please, take me Kirby House. I promise I won't do or say anything odd in front of others."
"I'm not worried about that, sweetheart. You can say or do anything you want--as long as you don't start removing your clothes in public. I'm afraid I'd have to put my foot down there," he said in a teasing way.
"As if I would be takin' my clothes off anywhere," she replied with a smile.
"Oh, I remember your clothes coming off last night. Very clearly, in fact. If the memory gets any better, we're going to have to detour to the condo and put Colin down for a nap."
Erina placed a hand over her mouth and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Maybe after visiting Kirby House," she said between bursts of laughter.
"I'll hold you to that," he said with a wink as he started the engine.
#
Kirby House was built in a New Orleans style out of red brick, with high steps out front and lots of iron grillwork around the porch and windows. Erina had always loved the house, which remarkably looked much as it had a hundred years ago. The main difference was in the landscaping. Palm trees clustered in the front where an oak had once stood, and oleanders lined the wall leading from the main house to the coach house.
Grant had called ahead from his car telephone and made arrangements for a private tour. Being married to respected, wealthy man did have some advantage
s, she thought with a smile. Of course, she would have loved him anyway. Inside, Grant was as kind as they come. Outside . . . well, he did cause her heart to flutter every time she looked at him.
They parked along the side and walked up the front steps like any other tourist family. Family. Yes, that's what they were now. The idea that within two weeks she had acquired the husband of her dreams and a healthy baby made Erina want to laugh out loud, to hug the world and tell everyone of her good fortune.
"Marriage seems to agree with you. You're certainly in a good mood today," Grant observed as he opened one of the double, leaded glass front doors.
"Oh, and I wouldn't know why that would be," she said, grinning as she carried Colin inside the darkness of the foyer.
As soon as she entered the mansion, however, her smile faded and a sense of deja vous assailed her. Even Colin became quiet, looking around the red-patterned walls and gilt accents with wide blue eyes.
"It looks so different," Erina said softly. "Like there is no family here, like the house has no soul."
"Houses don't have souls," Grant said, walking a few steps forward on the creaking wood floor.
"I don't know. I think maybe they do, if they're lived in and loved." Someday, she'd like to have a house that comforted her family, a place of warmth and happiness.
He shrugged. "A house has always been just a place to sleep, eat, and entertain to me."
"Even your condo?"
"That's different."
"I know," Erina said, walking toward a red velvet settee that was centered on one wall of the hallway. "I think the condo is how you'd like your life to be, far away from your family's world, and your apartment is just part of that world."
"That's pretty deep for this early in the day," Grant observed lightly as he studied a painting on the opposite wall.
"I'm not sayin' anything ill of your apartment or your mother's home, mind you, but somehow they don't seem like you."
He walked toward her, standing so close she was forced to look up into his eyes. "You're right. And I've been giving my life a lot of thought lately. I haven't mentioned this before, but I've decided to get out of the real estate business."
"How can you be doin' that?" From what Erina understood, Kirby Investments was the family business. Surely Grant wouldn't turn his back on his mother and his friends.
"I'm going to offer Kirby Investments on the stock market as an investment. It's called a Real Estate Investment Trust. Shares will be sold to many people, who will get a dividend and a chance to make money when the stock goes up in price. I'll retain a voting share, as will Mother and Brian. But over the next year, I'm going to get out of the management end. Brian is thinking about whether he'll retire or stay. It's up to him."
"That's such a big decision. Are you certain?"
"Yes. I never wanted to be in the business. This way, I'll have time to spend with you and Colin, and hopefully other children in the future." He smiled and touched her cheek. "You're blushing. Are you thinking about last night?" he asked softly.
"How could I not think of it?" she said, breaking eye contact. "We could be blessed with another child from . . . what we did."
"Yes, and if I'd been thinking more clearly I would have asked if you wanted me to use protection. But I wasn't thinking clearly. All I wanted was to--well, let's not go into that right here. I'd have to carry you upstairs and find a comfortable, private place."
She blushed all the more at the idea of making love to Grant, but her smile faded as she remembered where she was. She'd made a fool of herself over Jerrold Kirby in this house; she'd lost her virginity as a result of his drunken attack.
And if she'd never worked for Mrs. Kirby, never smiled shyly at Jerrold, she wouldn't have had Colin. And she would never have needed a miracle or been sent to Grant's time.
Now was not the time to talk about that, though. Later, when they were alone, she'd tell Grant how she felt. Going back to his original topic, she said, "What else will you do, besides stay home with me and watch Colin grow up?"
"I'm thinking about designing some new climbing gear. Maybe go into business with some instructor friends of mine. We've talked about improvement that could be made. That way, you and I could live wherever we wanted. I have no ties to Houston, but if you want to stay there, we can."
"Can we live in Galveston?"
"If you want. Or we can travel. You may like Colorado or California. Or anywhere else. We could split our time between a few different locations if you want, like Colorado in the summer and Galveston the rest of the year. I'm pretty open."
"I've never been to any of those places."
"We can go anywhere you want."
The freedom his money allowed was as foreign to Erina as the idea of engines that propelled cars at sixty miles an hour or airplanes that flew through the sky. But, she had to admit, she'd love to travel.
"Could we go back to Ireland some day?"
"Whenever you want. It's less than ten hours away."
"Ten hours! It took us four weeks from Dublin to Galveston."
Just as Grant was about to say something, a short, stout woman in Victorian fashion bustled into the hallway.
"Hello! Welcome to Kirby House."
"I'm Grant Kirby and this my wife Erina." His eyes rested on a still-curious Colin. "And our son."
"Yes, yes, Mr. Kirby. Thank you for calling ahead. And such a beautiful wife and child," the woman said, grinning at Colin. "How old is he?"
"Two months," Erina answered.
"What a wonderful age! Well, if you're ready for your tour, we can begin in the music room."
She and Grant followed the tour guide through the rooms of the first floor. Surprisingly, much of the original furniture was here, including the huge piano that she and Grant had talked about before. The ivory keys were yellow with age, but the finish had been restored to its original shine.
Part of each room was divided with a heavy velvet rope so people wouldn't walk on the old carpets or touch delicate items like Mrs. Kirby's silver tea service. In the dining room, another table, similar to the one at Grant's mother's house, sat beneath twin crystal chandeliers and hosted a large gilt and crystal epergne. The family's china rested in a cabinet that matched the table.
"This furniture is new," Erina said before the tour guide began to speak. "But the china and the chandeliers are old."
Sure enough, the woman verified Erina's observations. Grant looked at her oddly, but she continued to follow the woman through the butler's pantry into the kitchen.
They walked up the servant's stairs to the second floor, a route Erina knew well. Grant took Colin from Erina's arms as she started up the narrow steps. As a girl, she'd carried a tall stack of sunshine-smelling linens upstairs many, many times. She'd taken tea to the ladies' parlor at the top of the main staircase, or brushed Mrs. Kirby's long brown hair when her maid was indisposed.
So many memories. They were as clear to her as if they'd happened yesterday, yet she hadn't been in the Kirby's house for over a year. And a hundred years. She was part of this time now, and had to start thinking in those terms. She'd never forget her past, but the future called to her with promises of love and joy.
They went into the master bedroom upstairs, which did look much like it had in the 1800's. Mrs. Kirby's silver brush and comb set rested on her cherry vanity like it always had. Lace panels covered the windows with blue brocade drapes to block out the sun during the hottest time of day. The wallpaper and border was new, but similar to the blue and gold pattern Mrs. Kirby had ordered from France in the 1880's.
When it came time to enter Jerrold Kirby's bedroom, Erina hung back, feigning interest in a landscape painting in the wide hallway. Within seconds, Grant walked back to where she stood.
"What's wrong?"
"I have no need to see that room."
"Do you think that's where he--"
"No! It was upstairs on the third floor. I just don't want to remember . . . him. I'd rather se
e the rest of the house."
"It's just a fantasy, Erina. Don't let your imagination cause you any pain."
"It's not my imagination. Jerrold Kirby lived in that room until he went away to college. He used to climb out his window onto the balcony and throw apples at the other children. One time he climbed down the ironwork and fell into his mother's rose bush. Don't tell me those things didn't happen!"
"How did you know all that?" their tour guide asked, peering from behind Grant in the doorway.
"I . . . perhaps I heard it somewhere."
"But that's not part of the tour. Some of those stories are in our background information on the family, though. Have you ever been a tour guide?"
"No." But perhaps she should be. Who could be a more authentic orator of the past? If she hadn't been so upset at Grant's continued denial of her background, she would have laughed at the irony.
"Why don't we go on to another room?" Grant suggested.
"It's just so odd," the woman mumbled.
"My wife studies history, especially Galveston's past."
Thankfully, everyone let the subject drop as they walked into the next bedroom, which had been occupied by Jerrold's sister Kathleen.
"This chest on chest was imported from Ireland and withstood the hurricane of 1900. Records indicate that the Kirby's used it to store fresh fruit and vegetables from the kitchen when everyone moved upstairs. There are still stains in the bottom of the drawers." The guide pulled out the middle drawer to show the dark, round spots.
When Erina looked up, her breath caught in her throat. She could barely hear the woman's words as her heart began to pound.
"The bed is authentic to the period and was made on the mainland in Galveston county," the guide explained, smiling as she walked across the room. "The quilt was made right here in Galveston in the 1890's and was donated to the historical society by a dressmaker."
"Mrs. Abernathy," Erina whispered, feeling the blood leave her face.
"Why, yes, it was! How did you know that?"
Grant hurried over, Colin clutched in his arms. "Erina, are you okay?"
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