Striding down the center walk between velvet ropes, Penny paused, taking the offered paper and signing her name as she talked with a fan. She handed it back and noticed the young girl hardly spared her a glance, gazing up at Ramsey in wrapped
awe.
She leaned close and whispered, "I think she's in love." Ramsey smiled down at a girl of no more than five and ten and moved closer, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. She sighed dreamily and when he straightened and winked, she screamed, bouncing wildly. He flinched, lurching back and Penny laughed, pulling him toward the limousine, waving and smiling over the top, then winking into Max's lens before ducking inside. She dropped into the seat, instantly kicking off her heels and wiggling her toes as Ram fell in beside her, shaking his head.
"That was very sweet, what you did." "That child is going to rupture something." Penny laughed softly, patting his thigh. "At least tonight will be calmer, I hope."
Hesitantly he waved out the window, then dismissed the crowd, turning his attention to her, enjoying the sight of her sleek stockinged legs as she worked a kink out of her ankle. His gaze traveled upward, to the dark green dress covered in beads and scandalously strapless. A cocktail dress, she'd told him, and too short and exposing far too much flesh, he decided, yet she was unbelievably nervous afore they'd departed and wisely kept his comments to himself.
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He leaned over and pulled her into his arms. "I am, again, humbled by your talent, love."
His praise meant everything and she scooted closer, swinging her legs over his thighs. "Liked the film, huh?"
"Aye." His hand soothed over her calf. "I'm fond of an enchanting romance." He wiggled his brows. "Ours."
She leaned up to give him a quick kiss. "But admit it, you were embarrassed during the love scene. I saw you squirming." His skin darkened. "I felt much the voyeur." He wanted to stop the playing of the show, but knew 'twas impossible and suffered in misery as a goodly portion of her body was bared for hundreds of eyes.
"It was necessary for the plot," she consoled, smoothing the lapels of his black dinner jacket. He looked magnificent in a tux, dashing, to-die-for classy. She wanted to undress him right now, and the only thing stopping her was the windows weren't tinted for privacy.
"This, I believe, is true," he said thoughtfully, then met her gaze. "But I do not care to see you in the arms of another man. A'tall," he clarified darkly. "Regardless if 'tis an actor." His jealousy was endearing and she knew he was suppressing a healthy, likely raging, chunk of his discomfort for her benefit. Though the scenes were tame, more sensual than skin, exposure like that was hard enough for any man to handle, let alone one fresh out of the eighteenth century.
She cupped his face in her hands. "I won't do it anymore, if it makes you that unhappy."
He groaned, brushing his lips to hers and drawing her hands to his chest. "I cannot ask that of you, 'tis your work."
"I know, but I offered, and love .scenes hardly seem appropriate just now." Her fingertip circled his shirt button, her gaze on her movements and he felt her sudden trembling.
He frowned softly, tipping her chin. ' 'What say you, love?'' "Well," she breathed. "I mean—" she swallowed nervously—"I'd have this big belly to work around."
Ramsey's chiseled features yanked taut, his eyes searching hers. His grip on her hands tightened. "Say it," he breathed. "I'm pregnant, Ramsey."
He simply stared and her heartbeat accelerated as she watched his dark eyes gloss with slow tears. "God almighty," he choked and leaned close to kiss her, a kiss unlike any other, reverent, unspeakably cherishing, and she felt him struggle with his emotions, his great shuddering breaths. "Oh sweet sweet Jesus," he murmured against her lips, deepening his kiss, cradling her on his lap.
"You never fail to surprise me," she said, her arms around his neck, loving him for his vulnerability.
He rubbed his cheek against the inside of her arm, and chuckled shortly, sniffling. "Nor you, my heart." He smoothed hair from her forehead, stroked her cheek, felt the pattern of her lips. "God, I love you, Penn," he rasped.
"And I thank God for it," she cried softly, sinking into his
kiss.
The limousine sped down the highway, sheltering the lovers, and Ramsey rejoiced.
The coroner unzipped the black body bag and Pete Mathers cursed as he recognized his prime witness. "Your assumption?" he said sarcastically though the bullet hole in Owen's chest was obvious.
The coroner snickered. "Time of death is no more than fifteen hours, if I had to guess." The coroner checked nail beds and teeth like he was inspecting a horse for auction. And Pete thought he'd lose his lunch right there. It didn't matter how many bodies he saw, it was still horrible.
The coroner sealed the bag, then waved at his assistants to cart the remains into the truck.
"Anything we can use?"
"He was cleaned out, no money, no I.D., no labels in his clothes, even his shoes were plain, common."
"Give me something I can use, Braddock."
"I won't be sure until I've done an autopsy." Pete made a hurrying motion; he knew the routine and wanted something to lead him in the right direction.
"He was with a woman, either before or during."
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Pete arched. "You mean he got nailed while he was nailing her?"
Braddock smirked. "Don't quote me.'
Phalon Rothmere stood beside the window, watching the constant influx of caterers, florists, work men, musicians, and their tons of equipment delivered into his house. The last thing he needed now was an entourage of press, movie and T.V. stars and their staff, along with the Lt. Governor and a few congressmen in his house, but since the movie was shot in a sound stage duplicate two years ago, he'd agreed, bound by a contract signed two years ago. It wasn't that he had to spend a dime; her studio was paying the bill, but the press had camped out outside since yesterday, and the phone hadn't stopped ringing. His only consolation was his unexpected visitor last night and the sacrificial burning of his family's lurid past. He felt confident and mostly relieved.
Except that Noal hadn't returned, nor called to give him a report. He had to know if Hamilton had the diamonds, if Renfrew had somehow left them in Florida. He had to know. The Red Lady in the hands of any who knew its history could destroy him. Even if Hamilton had them, his only recourse was to ignore it, for laying claim publicly would incriminate himself, even if the statute of limitation on grand theft had run out. But the implication was still there.
He was almost glad they were ten fathoms under the Caribbean sea. Another mistake swiped away. No diamonds, no knowledge of them, and he could never be linked. Then again, he'd lost a few million in the process.
'' Did you see it?'' Sloane said, bursting into the room. When he simply scowled, his gaze dropping briefly to the videotape in her hand, she raced to the far corner and threw open the cabinets, shoving the tape in the VCR. She grabbed the remote and stepped back, clicking on the screen. The tape played.
Together they watched. "Well, then," Phalon said when Penelope told the entire world what happened the night Tess
TIMESWEPT ROGUE
Renfrew vanished, "you must look your best when the police come to arrest you."
"Me? What for? She didn't name me."
His gaze shifted from the T.V. "Not on screen."
"They have only her word."
"Penelope Hamilton hasn't received so much as a parking ticket in twelve years and before that, well, you're right, we have only her word since there's nothing to verify that she even existed before then."
"I didn't break in here, / didn't take shots at her, or chase her through the city, or step onto her property. / didn't lay a hand on the precious starlet."
"You set up the blackmail and Tess Renfrew is dead, a judge declared it with that ensign's tes
timony. There is such a thing as accessory with intent to commit bodily harm, accessory after the fact, attempted murder, contract murder. Take your pick."
Sloane fumed. "If I go down, so do you, Daddy."
He smirked, looking her over. "Nice to know I've been invited to the hanging."
"She has them, or why would she go through all this," she flicked a manicured hand toward the T.V., "if not to throw off suspicion."
"Do you actually believe, if they turned up, that I will forgive you for this?"
"Why not?"
"Hamilton didn't break the law."
She put her hands on her hips, petulant. "And you haven't scraped the thin line across it before?"
"A woman is dead!" Phalon raged.
Her skin brightened, her fists clenched white. "You mean your obsession is dead!"
His gaze narrowed to mere slits and he advanced, but she smiled, smug, calling out for her maid. He stopped and she spun about, heading for the door.
Dead, she realized, was not buried.
And she'd find a way to seal that grave. Tonight.
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At the base of the staircase, Penelope paced, her mind frantically going over the possible scenarios to this evening. The premier showing had gone well, almost too well, but Phalon wasn't there. She would have to face him, Sloane, and walk into the house meant to shelter her. And Alexander? How was he going to feel, being a guest in his house after all they'd discovered?
"Oh my God," Margaret said and Penny stopped, frowning over her stunned expression, then turning to follow the direction of her gaze.
She inhaled, watching Ramsey descend the stairs, tugging his cuff.
Her heart thundered wildly and she saw him as he was born to live, the man of the eighteenth century, dignified, gallant.
The costume he'd selected was him, elegant yet took nothing from his masculinity, the rich brown velvet coat smoothly hugging his broad shoulders and torso, long and flaring at the hem. An ascot of flawless cream silk fountained from his throat, the long tapered vest of gold and brown brocade snugly accenting his lean waist, making his chest look acceptionally big. But it wasn't even the flint-lock pistol shoved in his waistband that drew her sudden attention, but his knee breeches, tucked in tall black boots. They were leather, the shade of turned earth, laced instead of a fly, and formed to his body like a second skin.
And she couldn't decide whether or not to march him back upstairs and either make him change or see how fast she could get those laces open! As he drew close, she realized the breeches laced down the side of his thighs, the ties flicking against his own boots.
Penny thought her legs would liquefy right there. No wonder Tess warned her about him.
He stopped afore her, tipping her chin and smiling into her green eyes. "If you continue to look at me thus, my love, we will be late."
"Oh Ramsey," she whispered. "I wish I'd known you in your century."
There was a iook of awe in her eyes and he moved closer, frowning softly and searching her gaze. "Why then?"
"This," her glance swept his clothes, "makes me realize what you gave up, the life, and how much you've had to adjust."
He pushed a curl from her forehead. '' 'Twas only a meager life of one man."
"But what you saw, what you did, the people you knew, it is history.''
"Yet in another century hence, this," his gesture encompassed her time, "will be that of our children's." He gathered her in his arms, and she griped his biceps, feeling the velvet "This is our time, Penn, ours." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I regret not a moment of leaving my loneliness behind."
' 'I hardly think you were ever lonely," she said with a faintly jealous smile.
" 'Twas my heart that called me through time, my sweet. To you."
What did I do to deserve this man, she thought as his hands circled her trim waist, broad fingers smoothing the corset stays beneath the blue gown.
" Tis not too tight, this?"
She smiled, toying with the ribbon holding his hair back. "Is your concern already directed at our baby," she whispered.
"Nay, nay," he assured. "My God, Penn, I look at you, knowing you will be the mother of my child, our child, and I—" Air hissed in through his teeth, his warm gaze caressing her luxurious figure.
"Get excited?"
"Aye," came in a gush.
"Better calm down then, 'cause in those pants, every one will know it."
He chuckled, kissing her quickly, then moving to her side and offering his arm. "Your carriage awaits, m'lady."
"And he ain't kidding," Margaret said, gathering her skirts, Hank at her side, both dressed in period clothing.
Penny frowned and Ramsey flung the front door open. She gasped, racing out onto the porch.
Behind the stretch limousine in her driveway, beneath the
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warm glow of the lights, was a gleaming black carriage, four dove-gray horses harnessed to pull. A masked driver tipped his tricorn to her, the cloaked footman hanging on the back nodded, and Ramsey pressed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her down the steps. " Twos an opportunity I could not let pass, love, to share a bit of my century with you this day," he whispered close to her ear. "Mayhaps the last."
"It's beautiful." She smoothed a gloved hand over the polished wood, then glanced at him. "And I get a taste of your century every time you open your mouth."
He chuckled, handing her into the carriage, then alighting after her. "But Margaret and Hank," she said, catching the sill and the older woman came to the window, offering her a pair of masks.
"No, honey, we talked." She glanced at Ramsey and smiled. "The car needs to clear the way. You can't imagine the strings he had to yank to get this thing on the road."
Penny looked at Ramsey, arching a brow.
"Alexander," was all he said.
" 'Sides, it's been a while since I rode in a limo."
"Yeah," Hank said, giving her waist a squeeze. "We can neck." She swatted him with her fan and he made a big show of being wounded as they climbed into the limousine. Chuckling, Ramsey rapped on the roof and the carriage lurched, rolling out the gates.
Penny leaned back into the leather seat. "This is wonderful, Ramsey, thank you."
"My pleasure, love." The blue gown gave her skin a soft radiance, or was that his child growing in her, he wondered with a smile. Her hair was curled, swept off her neck and artfully arranged to frame her face. 'Twas his first occasion to see it so meticulously styled, he realized, then noticed she adjusted her gloves for the third time.
"Frightened?"
"Yes," came with feeling. She was afraid for him, but he didn't need to hear that now. "I have the irresistible urge to act out this night."
"But?"
"I just got off that stage and I don't intend to go back."
"Then be as you are." He took the mask, afixing it afore his face. "Ramsey O'Keefe, m'lady, captain of the American frigate Triton's Will. At your service," he said, bowing as he drew away the mask.
She laughed softly, stuck by the easy flair when he did that. "And I am?"
"Penelope Hamilton Blackwell, lost heiress, come to retake her birthright."
She tilted her head. "I'd rather be Penny O'Keefe, wife, mother, and part-time couch potato."
Ramsey blinked, then laughed, giving her a quick kiss as the coach headed afore the mansion. The way was clear and Ramsey knocked on the roof and the carriage sped up the long torch lit drive, coming to a jingling halt afore the crowd.
"Well, this is certainly a grand entrance."
She reached for the door handle.
"Wait." He dipped his hand into his pocket, withdrawing the gold chain, holding it up. The deep-pink diamond swirled before her vision. She met his gaze and he motioned her to turn.
"This is going to driv
e Phalon absolutely mad, if he recognizes this," she said.
"He's a Rothmere, he will." He fastened the clasp, then kissed her bare neck. "Alexander wanted you to have it."
She looked back over her shoulder. "Is he corning, Ramsey?''
There was almost a childish plea in her voice and he hated to break her heart. " 'Twould be a grave humiliation to be a guest in his own house."
She nodded, staring at her lap. Oh Da, how this must hurt you, she thought as Ramsey gave her a squeeze. The footman flung open the door, then placed a wood box before the entrance. Ramsey left the carriage first, and onlookers screamed so loud he cast them a curious glance afore turning to help her. The crowd gathered went wild, cameras flashing, bright lights turned high as she stepped out of the conveyance.
She smiled and waved, her attention shifting to the wide
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arched door way, the thick oak wood, carved and thrown open for tonight's guests. The house looked like a Spanish castle, gothic, swirling black iron balconies, pointed arches over the windows, crenelations shielding the roof and she half-expected to see rifles or arrow tips poke over the edge. Strewn across the doorway and draping the steps were boughs of ivy, clusters of herbs and wildflowers of blue, purple and magenta nestled in their shiny leaves, splashes of gold ribbon peeking from the green. The air hung with the splendid fragrance and Penny imagined what it must have really been like to live then, with Ramsey.
"Oh Ramsey, I forgot how beautiful this house really is."
"Have you ever been invited inside?" His wink meant in the light of day, considering their adventure the eve afore.
She looked appalled. "Are you kidding? Me, in her house?"
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