chest. “Are you sure, Becci? I don’t think I’ll have the power
to stop if we take things much further,” he warned.
“I’m sure,” she whispered, taking his mouth again.
With feathery strokes, Caleb traced a path over her hips,
down her thighs and then up to caress her moist, feminine nub.
She arched against his hand, and he knew this would be a
memory he would always cherish. Wild, sweet and wanting
him. Him. It was almost too much to believe.
Caleb caught her around the waist and drew her hips to
him. He hovered over her, letting the tip of his arousal brush
against her. He wanted to bury himself inside her, but he held
back, commanding himself to take it slowly. She expelled a
shivered gasp and opened to him.
I love you, Becci. The thought both excited him and
saddened him. Her love would stir him in his dreams for all
eternity and keep him warm on the long, cold, empty nights he
would have to face when he left her.
I love you, too, Caleb.
He smiled. She’d heard his thoughts. Her thoughts now
circled through his mind, and they awed him. She loved him.
He rocked against her and felt the resistance too late to
back away. “Oh, Lord, Becci, why didn’t you tell me?”
Caleb pulled her against him in a loving hug. His heart
raced as he waited for her body to adjust to him. He hadn’t
known he would be her first, and he again felt awed. She was
his. No one else would ever claim her as he had. Looking down
at her he wished he knew more about satisfying a woman.
He slipped his hand to where they were joined and gently
massaged until she trembled in his arms. Slowly he moved
inside her—each thrust a loving entreaty that he would never
forget.
Becci shivered as tingling waves of sensations swirled
inside her. Even as she climbed toward ecstasy, she knew that
tonight might be all they had. She would take what he offered
without regret.
She raked her nails over his pebbled nipples and felt him
tremble. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she raised her
hips slowly, teasingly, again and again, until a shattering
vibration of completion snatched her control. She arched into
him and called his name as her whole body reached for
fulfillment. Stars exploded. Powerless to harness her reaction,
a cry of pure pleasure erupted from deep in her throat.
When she tightened around Caleb, he thrust into her,
possessing her, making her his alone.
“Sweet heaven,” he gasped as his world shattered into
glorious ecstasy.
Nothing in his life had prepared him for lying with a woman
he loved. Nothing had ever come close to feeling what he felt.
She’d destroyed the blockage around his very soul. When he
left, he would leave without his heart as he had suspected he
would. He shuddered in pleasure and drew her closer, holding
her until the world slowed to normal.
She laughed. “I don’t think sweet heaven is grand enough.
I love you, Caleb.”
She felt him tense at her declaration. She didn’t regret her
words. They were true—would always be true, whether he
returned her love or not. If those really were his thoughts she’d
heard before they made love, he did love her even if he didn’t
like to hear the words spoken aloud.
“Stay the night with me,” she whispered. “Pretend we have
forever. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Becci smiled when, without a word, Caleb stood, lifted
her into his arms and, leaving their clothes at the top of the
stairs, carried her to her bed. He laid her on top of the cool,
down comforter and made love to her again like it would have
to last a lifetime, which it would.
When they finally lay together side-by-side, Caleb tucked
Becci close to him. Thunder cracked. Wind howled through
the trees and shook the windows. He glanced at the small
calendar Becci had set on the dresser. A bright red circle
encompassed the date for the party. Tomorrow. He shifted his
gaze to the year. The one hundred and sixty-fourth anniversary
of Rebecca’s death. Tonight he would love Becci. Tomorrow
night, he would be propelled back to where he’d started.
Could he really leave her? He had to. He had no other
choice.
Seventeen
Caleb listened to Becci’s soft breathing as she slept. A sharp
bullet of longing rifled through him. They’d made love twice,
and he still wanted her. Propping himself up on one elbow, he
let his gaze drift over her slender figure. As if the storm outside
was raging inside him, the thunder had clapped and the lightning
had flashed while he’d taken Becci.
He glanced at the window. Lightning from the storm, long
since passed, flashed in the distance, creating a weblike pattern
that vanished as quickly as it appeared. The howling wind had
turned into a gentle breeze, and the harsh onslaught of rain
was now a shower that made no sound as it landed and streaked
slowly down the glass. In another ten minutes stars would
twinkle in the inky blackness, and the world would go on as if
nothing had happened. But it had.
Caleb looked down at Becci and caught a red-gold curl,
twisting it around his finger. How would he ever live without
her? In the note he’d placed in the trinket box, he’d called her
a friend. She definitely meant more than that to him now.
Easing out of bed, Caleb crept from the room. He needed
to hurry. If Becci woke before he returned, she might take his
absence the wrong way. But he had to get the small trinket box
he’d left in the shed while he’d dealt with Jacobs.
Without turning on the lights, he found his pants at the top
of the stairs and pulled them on. Then he moved quietly through
the house, slipped on his boots at the kitchen door, and let
himself outside and crossed to the shed. He retrieved the silkcovered
box and retraced his steps to the house.
He shook his head as he brushed his fingers over the carved
heart on the lid. The note he’d written didn’t do justice to what
he now felt. Writing it had seemed so right—so perfect—until
they lay together. Slowly he worked the lid off, took out the
paper and reread it.
Becci, I have never met anyone who touched my
heart like you have. Not even Rebecca. Accept this
gift as a token of my friendship. If it brings thoughts
of me to mind, hopefully they will be good. I will never
carve another letter or polish another box without
thinking of you. All I ever wanted was for you to be
happy. If I have helped to make that happen, I’m glad.
I often wished for a friend to share my life with. You
have given me that friendship, if only for a short time.
Thank you.
Your friend,
Caleb H.
Becci hadn’t just touched his heart. She’d stolen it. Moving
through the kitchen, he crushed the note and tossed it in the
trash.
He loved her, and if there was any way for him to stay
with her, he would find it.
He hesitated at the top of the steps and gathered up their
scattered clothing. Raising the soft satin to his face, Caleb
inhaled the scent of spring flowers and Becci’s own feminine
perfume that clung to her gown. The combination stirred up
all his emotions—desire, fear, lust, anger, and love. In all his
life he’d never felt such a strong need to hold and protect another
person. Why had his heart chosen this moment to break through
its protective shell? He hadn’t needed love in his life before,
so why did it seem so important to him now?
His gaze drifted to Becci as he entered the room. The cover
had slipped down exposing the soft slope of her breast. He
turned away and tried to tamp down the desire that surfaced
every time he looked at her. This was a dream. It had to be. No
woman affected a man like this. Even if he stayed here forever,
he would never get enough of her.
He laid the clothes over the small wooden rocker sitting in
the corner and went to the window. Leaning his forehead against
the glass, he looked out at the now clear sky.
“Rebecca, what am I going to do?” he whispered so he
wouldn’t disturb Becci. “Every thought I have says this can’t
really be happening. Yet if this is a dream, I don’t want to
wake up. I love her.”
Caleb gazed at the stars and waited for Rebecca’s voice to
reply. She didn’t speak.
A smile tugged at his lips as he moved away from the
window and crawled back into bed with Becci.
“Hmmm?” Becci murmured as she snuggled into his
embrace.
“Nothing, love,” he whispered, slipping the trinket box
under his pillow and capturing Becci in the circle of his arms.
“Nothing.”
***
The sun flashed off the mirror into Becci’s eyes. She
groaned and tugged at the sheet to pull it over her head. Why
did morning have to come so early? She yanked at the sheet
again. It wouldn’t budge and a strange weight held her firmly
in place.
Sleep-hazy memories fluttered in her mind as she pushed
at the solid mass. As those memories solidified, her eyes flew
open.
Caleb! It hadn’t been a dream. Caleb had made love to her.
“Please don’t leave yet,” Caleb’s drowsy, masculine voice
pleaded. “This is a new experience. I’ve never had a woman
beside me when I woke up, and I think I could get used to it.
Besides, I’ve got something for you.”
His words soothed her like a gentle caress, and she snuggled
deeper into his arms. Weaving her fingers with his, she lifted
his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles.
“Something else?” She couldn’t stop the smile that curled
her lips when she thought of the night she’d just spent in Caleb’s
arms. She also couldn’t stop the trace of sadness that mixed
with the joy. Once they left her bedroom she might never get
the chance to make love with him again.
Caleb swallowed hard as Becci shifted until she faced him,
letting the cover slide down to her waist. Smiling down at her
crookedly he twisted a long lock of hair around his hand. Then
he tugged her closer and leaned his forehead against hers.
“You are one beautiful lady,” he said, trying to keep his
voice light while he regained control of his rampaging emotions.
He snagged the bed sheet and pulled it over her shoulder. “Stay
under that until I say what’s got to be said or I’ll never finish.”
He cast a quick glance at the dresser—so old in this time,
yet for him barely five weeks had passed since he’d first
delivered it oiled and glistening to Rebecca’s front door. It had
taken him more time to smooth the wood than to make the box
he would give to Becci. He hoped she would always remember
the love he put into it. Reaching under his pillow, he drew out
the silk-wrapped package.
“I wish...” he started, then closed his eyes, but not before
Becci saw the sheen of moisture glistening in them. When he
opened them again, there was fear and vulnerability in their
blue depths. Their gazes locked, and his lips slowly slipped
back into the grin she’d become so fond of.
“It’s not much, Becci. It started out to be a thank you gift
for your friendship, but you’ve touched my very soul and given
me more than I deserve. I’m a man of few words. What I feel
for you is different. Whatever it is, it can’t be put into words.
And this is such a small token of what’s in my heart.”
He unfolded the silk square. Catching her hand, he placed
the small, hand-carved oak box in it and curled her fingers
around it.
“I hope you like it,” he said as he feathered his knuckles
down her cheek. He cupped her chin and lightly touched his
thumb to her lips before pulling away.
Becci closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding so hard she
was sure Caleb could hear it, too. Slowly, she opened her eyes
and, for a long moment, stared at the fine wood grains of the
box. Then she brushed a finger over the letters carved on the
lid. Tears surfaced, and the box blurred. What on earth was the
matter with her? She pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a
sob.
“Oh, Caleb. It’s beautiful. I will always cherish this.
Always.”
She held the tiny box to her chest with one hand and wiped
the tears from her cheeks with the other. Leaning forward, she
pressed her lips to his.
The kiss told Caleb what was in her heart. He took the box
and placed it on the bedside table. Then he lowered her to the
mattress and covered her mouth with his. All his emotions came
spilling from his heart. He couldn’t say the words. He could
only show her what he felt.
With slow, measured moves he explored every inch of her
body as if it was a farewell message. He held her tighter. Kissed
her slower. Stretched each lingering caress to the fullest. When
they finally exploded into a world of sensations, he knew he’d
been truly and thoroughly loved.
Becci traced the shadowed curve of Caleb’s jaw. There
was a deep sadness in his eyes that shrouded their joy.
“You stay right where you are, honey,” Becci ordered,
forcing a lightness in her words she didn’t feel. “I’m going to
prepare you a true feast. Breakfast in bed—eggs, toast, coffee,
and maybe a special treat. Today I’ll pamper you. In the
morning, it will be your turn to pamper me, which means you’ll
serve me breakfast in bed.”
She laughed at the frown he sent her. “It’s called women’s
lib. That’s something you’ll have to get used to if you stay in
this era. I’ll help you tomorrow, but after that you’re on your
own.”
She had to keep thinking there would be a future for them,
that the love they shared would be here forever. If she didn’t,
the pain would be unbearable.
Tomorrow. Caleb liked the sound of that. He would love to
spend the day doing nothing but loving Becci. Hell, he wouldn’t
mind spending the rest of his life loving her.
“Come here, baby. It’s you I want, not food.”
Just as he spoke his stomach rumbled. Laughing, Caleb
lunged for Becci. She whirled away, also laughing.
“I think your stomach is telling me a different story, Caleb
Harrison.”
Dodging another lunge, she rolled out of bed and snatched
the trinket box off the bedside table. She set it on the dresser,
slipped on a long, flowered housecoat and waved at him as she
backed out of the room.
Love and fear. Never had two emotions clashed so violently
together inside Caleb. He felt them both raging like the storm
that had passed through the area last night. Now the tree limbs
swayed, scraping the window, and sunbeams bounced off the
mirror.
Caleb caught a glimpse of his reflection in the cracked
looking glass and ran a hand over his head. His hair was as
tousled from Becci’s fingers as hers had been from his. They’d
held and loved each other with a fierceness that had reflected
their unvoiced fears. In his heart he knew there would not be a
tomorrow. Five weeks in Becci’s world, a hundred and sixtyfour
years ago today—his time—he’d delivered the dresser.
Rebecca died that day. He remained accused of Rebecca’s
murder and the thief of the cursed “Atlantean Medallion,” and
he knew he had to go back and make everything right.
“Oh, Rebecca, how could they think I would harm you?
And what about the gold you hoarded for Luke? You never
saw the dresser, so it couldn’t be there. I certainly didn’t take it
with me. Not your gold, only—mine.”
Caleb tossed off the sheet, dropped his feet to the cool
floor and raked his hands through his hair again. If he thought
about what had happened to Rebecca, he would go crazy. He
stood and slowly crossed the room to stand before the dresser.
He’d never dreamed the furniture would still exist so many
years after he’d created them. With his left hand, he outlined
the hand-carved initial.
He knew the medallion was still where he’d hidden it. It
had connected him with Becci when she leaned against the
dresser, and it had opened his mind to Mr. Latham’s thoughts.
Christopher, Barbara - Keeper of Key.txt Page 29