And that’s why William, Kenzie, Gabriella, and Fiona weren’t the only time travelers attending the ball, although they were the only ones permanently living in this century. That is, besides several of the MacKeages from Pine Creek sitting with Duncan and Peg at one of the other tables—clear across the room from Mackie.
Jane choked on her wine and grabbed her mother’s arm when Rana gasped just as a deafening clap of thunder suddenly rattled the floor-to-ceiling pavilion windows. The two women looked at each other and both broke into grins.
“Sweet Athena, I hope that was Sir Garth,” Jane said, “and not Niall.”
“It’s okay, everyone,” her mother said to the suddenly silent room. She laughed brightly and waved her wineglass toward the windows facing Bottomless. “It would appear the crew setting up the fireworks just ruined our midnight surprise.”
The quartet began playing again and the room quickly filled back up with chatter.
Jane watched Sam Waters break away from the gaggle of local men and limp toward her. Olivia’s father stopped and gave Rana a warmly smiled nod, then slid his gaze to Jane. “Would you care to dance with a gimpy old man, Carolina?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Jane handed her wineglass to her mom, took his hand, and let him lead her to a less populated section of the dance floor. “You’re looking quite the princess tonight…Jane,” he said, glancing up at the tiara in her hair as she set one hand on his shoulder and the other at his waist. He chuckled. “Which is intimidating your mother’s personally invited dance partners. They’ve all spent the last hour trying to pour enough liquid courage past their tonsils to work up the nerve to even walk over and speak to you. And poor Ray—he’s the one with the cane—is trying to figure out how to hold both it and you and dance at the same time.”
“When we’re done, you can walk me over and I’ll ask them to dance.” Jane winced. “It appears my manners are slipping, as I should have introduced myself to them long before now.”
Sam looked around, then pulled her a bit closer. “Alec came into town a few days ago and asked me to have a new identity ready for you by tonight. It’s—”
“Alec plans for us to run away?” she blurted in a whisper, her hand on Sam’s shoulder bunching his jacket. “Wait, how did he know you made my first identity?”
Sam snorted. “He’s known over a month. Apparently you tried to call me from his satellite phone the day after he rescued you, and he saw you’d called the trading post. He came to Inglenook to see me that night to find out what was going on.”
Jane faltered in midstep, making Sam stumble before catching himself. “The night he left me in the boat he went to see you? And the two of you have been making plans to help me run away again?” she said past the lump in her throat, wanting to weep at the realization that Alec wasn’t coming to the ball.
“I can’t rightly say what he’s planning, because the man’s always played his cards close to his vest.” Sam shrugged. “All I know is that he asked me to have a new identity for you ready to go tonight, but said it was only for in case plan A didn’t work out the way he hoped.”
“Only…one identity? Not one for him, too?”
“Just the one, Caro,” he said softly, his gray eyes troubled as he gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m guessing it’s because if plan A doesn’t fly, he’s figuring he…that he won’t be in any condition to run off with you.”
Jane stopped dancing.
Sam gave a quick glance around and started them dancing again, giving her a tender smile. “I’m betting you won’t need the new identity, though, as I’ve never known MacKeage to have to resort to a plan B. But,” he said on a heavy sigh, “if you do, then I swear this one is foolproof. Only in order for it to work, you’re going to have to lose that ankle bracelet. I’ve got you booked on a flight out of Bangor International Airport at nine tomorrow morning that’ll take you to Philadelphia, where you can pick any plane headed anywhere you want. I showed you how to get lost in a maze of flights the last time you disappeared. You remember how?”
Jane leaned closer, until her cheek was next to his. “I love you for caring enough to help me again, Sam, but I…I can’t leave. I was acting spoiled and selfish last time, and shirking my duty.”
“It’s not selfish to want to control your own life,” he growled, giving her waist a squeeze. “Don’t give up on Alec just yet, okay? Let’s see what plan A is before we—”
“Excuse me, but may I have this dance?” a gentleman asked, tapping Sam on the shoulder even as his gaze locked on a point somewhere past Jane’s head.
Sam sighed. “I told you to give me the whole dance, Nick,” he said, “then come over and cut in.”
Jane kissed Sam’s cheek and turned to the gentleman. “Introduce us, Sam.”
“Carolina, this is Nick Patterson. He owns Angie’s Bar and Grill in Turtleback Station. Nick, this is Princess Carolina Oceanus, and I know for a fact she’s disabled more than one misbehaving dance partner with those four-inch spikes she’s wearing, so be a gentleman or she’s going to make you a gimp like me and Ray.”
That certainly got Nick looking at her. Jane grabbed her apparently startled suitor and simply started dancing with him. “So, Nick, is it true Angie’s has strippers every first Friday of the month? And do you allow women to come to your bar on those nights?” She widened her smile when he snapped his eyes to her again and mutely nodded. “Without them having to strip?” she whispered, only to wince when he stumbled and stepped on her toe.
Sweet Athena, why had her mother invited so many local suitors, Jane wondered half an hour later after dancing with local number eight—and a half, if she counted only swaying back and forth with Ray Byram and his cane. But the only one she wanted to dance with had apparently stood her up.
Jane plastered another polite smile on her face and let herself be handed over to the guy cutting in, only to stumble when a familiar set of hands slid around her back and pulled her into a very familiar chest that deflated on a long sigh of satisfaction. “Christ, ye feel better than I remember,” he murmured against her ear as he used his chin to tuck her head against his. “Will ye tell me why in God’s name your mother invited so many dance partners for you? I hate waiting in lines.”
Undecided whether to scold him for being late or burst into tears at the feel of his arms around her, Jane simply melted into him with a groan of utter contentment. “Um, we should probably at least sway,” she said thickly, “to appear as if we’re not just standing here trying to figure out how to make love in the middle of the room.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, his arms tightening as he started them swaying. He chuckled. “Please tell me that’s only wine in your mother’s glass. Because the last time I had the pleasure of her company, she got a wee drunk.”
Jane leaned away to smile at him, only to gasp instead. “You cut your—” He stifled her shout by pressing her face to his shoulder. “Hair,” she finished in a mutter. She took a deep breath and straightened again, her eyes roaming over his short—but not too short—haircut, then his clean-shaven jaw—that she simply had to reach up and touch—then down to his perfectly tied tie. She leaned away to take in the breadth of the perfectly fitting tuxedo covering his broad shoulders and chest, his crisp white shirt, and…he had a tartan cummerbund? He actually owned one?
He chuckled again and pulled her back up against him, then started actually dancing. In fact, the guy could really dance. Really quite well.
Sweet Athena, she needed this.
“Do I clean up okay?” he asked, twirling her across the dance floor.
“You take my breath away,” she whispered breathlessly. “You look so…so…”
“Civilized?” he finished for her, his amusement suddenly vanishing as Jane found herself waltzing backward through a door, only to just as suddenly be snatched to the side and pressed up against a wall by Alec’s very hard body. “Run away with me,” he said into her mouth, just before kissing the breath
out of her.
Jane couldn’t keep her hands off him, and apparently he was having a hard time keeping his off her, as she gasped in surprise when he cupped both her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples—making him have to press more intimately against her when Jane’s knees buckled with her moan of pleasure.
The door slammed open followed by a snarled, “Son of a bitch!” Alec stepped away and turned, then used his back to press her up against the wall again—which muffled Jane’s gasp of surprise when she saw Mac standing there, his jaw clenched as tight as his fists. “You get your hands off her,” he said with quiet anger, “and leave before I kill you.”
Jane felt more than saw Alec reach inside his tuxedo jacket. “I was invited,” he said calmly as she leaned far enough to see him hand a vellum envelope to her brother.
Mac tore it open, read the card, then threw it on the floor with a snort. “Mother’s invitations don’t count. Are you going to walk out of here or have to be carried out?”
Alec reached inside his jacket again and pulled out another vellum envelope, then held it toward Mac. “Maybe this one will count.”
Jane saw her brother stiffen and slowly take the envelope. He opened the flap and pulled out the card, then turned as pale as a ghost as he snapped his gaze to Alec. “Father invited you? When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
Jane felt her knees buckle again. Her father had invited Alec to come to Nova Mare and court her? Two weeks ago? She smacked the back of his shoulder. “Then where have you been for the last two weeks,” she growled, “while I was smiling my face off at a bunch of buffoons?”
“I was usually only a few yards away, watching you smiling at them.”
“Why wasn’t I smiling at you if Daddy gave his blessing for you to court me?”
“I did court ye, Carolina,” he said, his back still pressing her up against the wall as he kept his eyes trained on her brother. “Didn’t ye get my gifts?”
She gasped. “Did you just call me Carolina?” She smacked his shoulder again. “I’m Jane. To you, I…I’m Jane,” she whispered, dropping her forehead to his back. “I want to be Jane.”
The door slammed open again, and Jane lifted her head to see her mother come storming in with her father right behind her, followed by Nicholas—who then closed the door and stood against it, his arms crossed over his chest.
Chapter Twenty-one
Christ, he didn’t see this ending well.
Alec stepped away from Jane, then caught her when she stumbled forward in surprise, pulled her up against his side, and wrapped a protective arm around her as he faced her parents and Mac. He eyed the door leading outside to gauge his chances of making a run for it, but decided that the three men in the room actually worsened the odds over three weeks ago now that he knew brotherly Nick a bit better. And Jane—damn, he was glad she still wanted to be Jane—wasn’t exactly wearing running shoes.
Mac held the envelope in front of his father. “You invited Alec MacKeage? Two weeks ago? By the gods, why?”
“Because he fits all my requirements for a suitor,” Titus said, smoothing down the front of his tuxedo. “And Carolina…wanted him.”
“I invited him, too,” Rana added, sounding somewhat bewildered as she lifted her gaze from the envelope in her son’s hand to glare at her husband. “You let me play out my little charade when you had already invited him?” She turned to glare at Nick. “And you didn’t say anything, either?” And then she turned on Alec. “Or you? You came here tonight carrying two invitations,” she growled, pointing at her invitation Mac had thrown on the floor.
Nope; not ending well.
“I don’t care who invited him,” Mac snapped. “Carolina is not marrying a MacKeage. Where in hell is Sir Garth?” he snarled at Nicholas.
“Garth decided he wanted to go home about an hour ago,” Nicholas said calmly, his arms still crossed, still guarding the door that led back into the ballroom.
Alec wondered if Kit could hear them and might be waiting at the back door like a good wingman, thinking the wolf could buy him enough time to toss Jane over his shoulder and make a run for it. At least that was the plan he was going with, until Jane suddenly broke free of his embrace and walked up to Mac. Alec sighed and silently walked up behind her as she faced her brother.
“Why, Mackie?” she whispered. “Why don’t you want me marrying a MacKeage?”
Mac moved his gaze from Alec to his sister, his eyes suddenly softening as he touched her cheek. “All I’ve ever wanted is to see you happy and fulfilled and free to follow your passions, Carolina. But the only way that can happen is for you to marry someone who’s afraid of the magic.” He slid his finger to her lips when she tried to speak. “I can’t stop your destiny, little sister, but having a husband who’s in awe of us will at least give you the freedom you crave. Choose a warrior with more muscle than intellect, Caro,” he softly urged, “because if you choose a MacKeage, you will be powerless in your marriage.”
“If her husband’s afraid of the magic, then he can’t protect her.”
Mac’s eyes flared in surprise as they snapped to his. “You know.”
“I know,” Alec said with a nod. “But don’t you think it’s time she knew?”
Mac stared at him in silence, then slowly turned to his father. Alec saw Titus hesitate, then give a nod just before he took his wife by the hand and led her outside—to finally tell her also, Alec assumed.
Mac turned back and gently clasped Carolina’s shoulders, hesitated again, and took a deep breath. “The reason you have to marry a fearless mortal now, is that if you’re not married and pregnant in three months”—Alec saw Mac’s grip tighten—“every god and demon bent on destroying the Trees of Life will be free to pursue you the day you turn thirty-one, intending to seduce you in hopes of getting you pregnant with their child so Father and I won’t retaliate when they attack Atlantis.”
Carolina jerked away from him with a gasp, only to spin toward the door when a feminine shriek came from outside—which was immediately followed by Rana rushing back through the door, the look in her eyes fierce enough to stop a real bear in its tracks as Titus ran in behind her.
“Of all the pigheaded, arrogant assumptions you men have ever made,” she all but shouted as she stormed up to Carolina and wrapped an arm around her, “this one is the most outrageous.” She rounded on Titus, pulling Carolina with her to also face him. “Do you think your own daughter doesn’t even have the brains of a sea urchin? Or that she doesn’t have integrity? Or honor?” She turned just enough to include Mac while also giving Nicholas a speaking glare, apparently not wanting to leave him out of her little tirade. “All you had to do was tell us about this asinine deal with the gods, and we would have told you there is nothing to worry about.” She snorted, shaking her head. “It was obviously a pact made between men, because if a woman had been involved, she would have laughed you all off the planet.”
She shot her angry gaze around again—alarming Alec when she included him this time. “One,” she said, her words directed at Titus, “we—no, I raised an intelligent, strong-minded, astute daughter Eros himself couldn’t seduce, not some simpering miss who would be taken in by trickery or flattery. And two, there will be such a stampede racing after her that the idiots will go to war trying to stop one another from being the one to reach her, and Carolina will be forgotten in their madness.” She actually laughed, although Alec could see she was far from amused. “Every woman knows that if you dangle a prize before a group of males, they’ll start fighting one another to the point they’ll forget why they’re fighting.”
His face darkening with either anger or chagrin, Titus brushed down the front of his tuxedo. “I wouldn’t say all men are that single-minded.”
“No?” Rana returned as she arched a brow. “You don’t recall how the first time we met it took you three days to realize I was no longer even at the tournament?” She snorted. “You were so busy trying to impress me by challenging ev
ery competitor that you didn’t even know I had already left.”
“It’s not the same, wife,” Titus snapped. “This isn’t about—”
“Oh, it’s the same, husband,” Rana snapped back, cutting him off. “And just like her mother,” she said, giving Carolina’s shoulders a squeeze, “our daughter would simply walk away from your god and demon buffoons, laughing her head off.” She glanced around at all of them again, and Alec saw her anger suddenly disperse on a heavy sigh. “We don’t need strong and fearless men to fight our battles for us, Titus,” she said softly, “or to protect us from life’s worries. We want husbands who stand beside us, and who take our breaths away by treating us as equals.” She lowered her gaze. “And up until three weeks ago, I thought that was the definition of our marriage.”
“It was,” Titus said gruffly, stepping forward and pulling her into a fierce embrace as he buried his face in her hair. “It is.”
Deciding he at least had the brains of a sea urchin, Alec took Carolina’s hand and started leading her toward the outside door.
Of course she wouldn’t go peacefully.
“No, wait,” she said, pulling him to a stop. “You can’t just walk off with me. You have to ask for my hand in marriage, and Daddy has to give us his blessing.”
“But I don’t want your hand in marriage, lass,” he said, grinning at her surprise. He leaned closer. “All I’m wanting at the moment is your body,” he whispered, “and I really don’t think I should be asking your father for that.” He shrugged when all she did was continue gaping, and turned away. “Okay, I’ll ask him if ye want me to.”
She caught the back of his tuxedo jacket, and Alec let her drag him to the far corner of the room, returning Nicholas’s grin on his way by. “Are you nuts?” she hissed after spinning Alec around to face her. “I can’t just run off with you without our being married. I’m a princess, and we do not have sex outside of marriage.”
Courting Carolina Page 26