His brows furrow. “Well, yeah. Of course.”
And that’s all I need to know.
Unclenching my hands, I do what I’ve wanted to do ever since I saw him walk through the door—ever since I met him, if I am to be completely honest. I leap into his arms, clamp my legs around his waist, and capture his lips in a kiss meant to show him exactly how much I’ve missed him. How much I am falling in love with him. And how much his being here for me means.
Austin hesitates only a moment, a surprised breath fanning my lips before he crushes me against him and returns the kiss stroke for stroke, moan for moan, and nibble for delicious nibble. When he wrests control of it, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth, my bones seem to liquefy, and I melt into the strength of his arms.
He presses a hot line of open-mouthed kisses on the column of my throat, and I tilt my head to give him better access. He licks the sensitive spot just under my ear. The rasp of stubble on his chin grazes my skin, and I shiver, never wanting this moment to end.
But all too soon, Austin leans back. I moan a protest, and he grins, a mischievous glint alight in his eyes. “Now this isn’t how a proper sixteenth-century Ice Princess is supposed to act.”
I laugh and lock my ankles around him tighter. “Then I guess it’s a very good thing I’m not one anymore.”
Then, just to prove I mean it, I kiss him again.
…
“Knock, knock.” Cat pokes her head around the open dressing room door and asks, “Everyone decent?”
Austin sits up from his slouched position on the sofa and wraps his arm around my waist. Tugging me tighter against him, he mutters under his breath, “Unfortunately,” and I slap his chest with a grin.
Cat frowns as she steps through the doorway, then looks back at Lucas and shakes her head. “Damn, I knew we waited too long.”
I smile at their teasing and the scandalous implications, then laugh when I realize a few weeks ago, I would have been completely horrified. Nestling myself farther into the warmth of Austin’s embrace, I pat the empty space on the sofa beside me. “On the contrary, dear cousin, your timing couldn’t be more perfect.”
Austin slaps hands with Lucas in a manly sort of greeting. “Though I ain’t gonna lie, another hour with her all to myself wouldn’t have sucked.”
I bite my lip and lower my eyes to the ground. The problem is that I do not have another hour. And the fact that the playfulness of Austin’s tone and gesture didn’t quite reach the deep blue of his eyes lets me know that is a fact of which he is well aware.
Apparently, so is Cat. A strange noise rises in her throat. I look up to see her fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she knocks her knees gently against mine. At first, she doesn’t say anything, choosing to let the silence say it all. Then, “Guess it’s about that time.”
Tension crackles in the room. It seeps into my muscles and makes my head feel heavy.
Cat looks to Lucas, Lucas to Austin, Austin to me.
The tick of an old clock on the wall hits my ears—tick, tick, tick, tick—and my pulse slows to keep time with the lonely, terrifying beat.
I try to swallow, but suddenly it feels as though my throat is coated with cotton.
Austin coughs and locks eyes with Lucas, communicating wordlessly. Lucas nods. “I’ll drive,” he says, digging his car keys out of his pocket and twirling them on his finger. That he has to try so hard to look at ease makes everything so much worse.
Austin mumbles his thanks and stands, then turns around and offers me his hand.
Staring at his open palm, I hesitate…and shake my head. “No.”
Austin’s hand jerks back, then lurches out to grab mine. “No?”
Squeezing his fingers, I lift my gaze. The flash of incredulity in his stormy blue eyes is nearly my undoing, so I turn to look at my cousin and Lucas, seeing equal astonishment in them.
“I need to do this on my own,” I explain.
“No way,” Austin says, barely allowing me to finish. “Not happening. I’m going in there, and if she—”
“Hey, Marilyn needs you.”
We all jump at the intrusion as Reid stops midway into the room. His body tenses as he quickly surveys our faces. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Yeah, man,” Austin says, pulling me to my feet. “You kinda are.” He loops his arms around my waist, staking a visual claim. “Tell Marilyn Alessandra is busy at the moment.”
At the dismissive tone in Austin’s voice, Reid crosses his arms. He has changed out of his Romeo costume, and the buttons of his long-sleeved shirt strain against the hostile gesture. “I think the girl can answer for herself, don’t you?” He strolls the rest of the way into the room at a leisurely pace, belying the tick in his jaw, and stops just in front of us. “Alessandra just gave a kickass performance on opening night of a workshop directed by a famous director. Local reporters want to interview her. It’s part of the business.” He grins. “Or maybe you’re too threatened to let her out of your sight.”
Austin’s fingers dig into my sides. I rub my temple, willing the building headache away, and eye the clock. It’s eleven twenty. Only forty minutes until my showdown with Reyna—I barely have enough time to get across town as it is. What will she do if I never show up? Will I just disappear wherever I am, before ever having a chance to state my case?
I pry Austin’s hands loose and turn to face him. “Give me a minute.” Before he can argue, as he looks like he wants to do, I press a soft kiss on his lips and step away. “Reid, can I talk to you in private?”
With a smug look, Reid says, “Lead the way, pretty lady,” and follows me to the far corner of the room.
Once we are away from the others, his easy charm and smile come back. He grabs my hand and says, “I meant what I said—you really were amazing out there tonight.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, grateful for the compliment. “You were, too.”
And he was. Marilyn couldn’t have found a better Romeo in all of Hollywood. Even Austin, who performed wonderfully on the day of my audition, does not have the polish Reid has, gained from years of practice.
As I look up at Reid, reliving our scene together and the way he delivered his lines in his historical costume, I’m shocked to realize who it is he has reminded me of all along: Matteo. Well, Matteo before he betrayed me.
The two gentlemen share the same good humor and charisma, the effortless way they carry themselves. Once, Reid was the exact sort of man I thought I wanted. Now I know what it is that I need. A man who challenges me, a man who lifts me up and is not afraid to call me on my failings. Who makes me want to be the best version of myself that I can be, and knows exactly how to encourage my growth until I get there.
A man like Austin.
Reid’s childlike grin fades as he watches me closely. He glances at Austin, standing where I left him by the sofa practically vibrating with restraint, and back at me. “So he does it for you, huh?”
I smile and say, “Yeah. He does it for me.”
He sighs and then in the smoother, refined voice he uses on stage says, “’Tis a far, far better thing I do then I have ever done.”
Confused, I wrinkle my brow, and Reid shakes his head. “Never mind. Go be with your man. I don’t know what’s going on but obviously, something important is going down. You go take care of whatever it is, and I’ll head back to the room and play up my egocentric reputation. I’m sure I can find some excuse to keep their attention.” He grins. “Maybe start a few rumors about my indie film coming up.”
Relieved, I throw my arms around him for a quick hug, glancing again at the clock over the door. Eleven thirty. “Reid, thank you. This really means a lot.”
“No problem,” he whispers, squeezing me tight. He exhales and slowly steps back. “You better go.” He looks over my shoulder toward my friends. “Looks like your crew’s getting restless. And besides, I have reporters to distract.”
And with that, Reid leaves the room.
I�
��m sorry to see him go. He has been a good friend. But before he has even disappeared through the doorway, Austin’s arms are back around me. He touches his forehead to mine. “Can I drive you there and just not go in?”
I curl my palm around his cheek. “I’d never be able to get out of the truck.”
“Then at least take our driver,” Cat says, joining us at the doorway. “If you insist on doing this by yourself—and don’t get me wrong, I hate it, but I guess I get it—then I’ll go home with Lucas.” Her chin wobbles ever so slightly, so faint that anyone else would probably miss it. But not me. “Time’s already getting short, and you don’t want to waste any of it hailing a cab.”
Then my cousin sniffs, her eyes fill with actual tears, and I’m out of Austin’s arms and into hers, breathing in the familiar scent of her rose-scented shampoo.
Her shoulders tremble. “It’s not fair,” she says, voice breaking. “I can’t say good-bye to you again.” She steps back to look at me. “I already talked to Dad and Jenna. Thanks to the acting genes Mama Dearest passed on, I concocted an amazing story explaining why you were hanging around for the next two and a half years. They already agreed, and Jenna’s taking you shopping for your new bedroom suite, so you better come back to us.” She gives me a watery grin. “Trust me; you don’t wanna go messing with that woman and her plans.”
I laugh, then cover my mouth as it turns into a sob. “I’ll do my best, believe me.”
Lucas slides his arm around Cat’s shoulders. “Take care of my cousin,” I tell him. “You know, just in case.” I blink away tears and attempt a smile. “She wants everyone to believe she is tough, but underneath her warrior exterior, my cousin is all heart.”
“I know,” Lucas says. “And I will. But you’ll be here to remind me of that.”
I only wish the conviction of his words matched the pitch of his voice. “I hope so.” He nods and takes Cat’s hand, stepping to the back of the room and giving Austin and me our last few minutes of privacy.
Austin puts a finger under my chin. “Don’t you dare give me one of your Wizard of Oz–like speeches. Our American government project’s due next week, so you have to come back.” He grasps my shoulders in his hands, as if he can convey his determination and conviction with his grip. “If you don’t, I’m just gonna hunt this gypsy down and make her bring me to you. Because this,” he says, pointing a finger between us, “isn’t over. Believe that.”
Tears course down my cheeks, but I nod, anyway, wanting to believe it so badly. Then I press my lips to his, perhaps for the final time, and hold on tight.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The portal is just as I remember, sitting in the exact spot I suspected in front of the famous Chinese theater. On the crowded sidewalk in front of it, people brush past the seemingly innocent green tent without a second glance. No raised brows, no disbelieving glances, not even a questioning look as they dash off to wherever it is people choose to go at such a late hour. Either they are unaware of the immense power and significance that is right in their midst, or Reyna has cast some type of spell, cloaking it from prying eyes.
But I see it.
A side flap shifts in the breeze stirring from the cars on the road behind me. It seems to be calling to me, beckoning me closer, as much as Reyna’s crooked finger did that day in my courtyard. And just like then, I am alone, with hope in my heart for my future, and a healthy dose of apprehension for what lies ahead.
I pull out my cell phone and watch the time switch over to midnight.
Showtime.
Straightening my shoulders, I run my palms along my Juliet costume. I had no time to change before leaving, having spent so much of it waiting in the wings and then not wanting to waste a second on my appearance once Austin, Cat, and Lucas joined me in the dressing room. But now that I think of it, my apparel is rather fitting. I am dressed similarly to the way I was when I first entered this space, only my costume today is the twenty-first-century version. Embellished and reinforced, made stronger, by all the conveniences of the modern era.
Much like me.
An impatient horn blares behind me, and I jump into action. As I cross the distance to the portal, walking over stars carved into the ground, I’m reminded of the words I uttered to Reyna just before sitting at her table, taking a chance on an adventure. I told her I was no longer the timid girl she once knew, and even though my words were admittedly nothing but false bravado, now they hold true. I am not without fear, but courage is taking action despite the fear. Knowing what you want, what you are meant to do, and proceeding despite any knots in your stomach or rocks stuck in your throat. It is walking boldly into the unknown with your chin held high…even if it quivers.
Pushing through the open flaps, I enter the tent. They close behind me, sealing me into darkness.
I shall not be afraid. I shall not be afraid.
I kick off my shoes and fling them where I think the side is, calling out, “Reyna, I’m here.”
“I can see that.” The bored-sounding reply comes just behind me, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Twisting around, I find a shadowy outline. Reyna must have been waiting for me by the entrance, watching my approach.
Grateful for the dark that hides the embarrassed flush of blood rushing to my cheeks— wondering if Reyna saw any hesitation in my eyes that could hurt my chances of staying—I square my shoulders. “I have come at the hour we agreed upon to tell you that my desire has not changed. I wish to stay.”
She stares back at me with eyes that seem to defy the dark, that need no candle to illuminate them. She does not say a word as she studies my face, and the weight of her intent appraisal feels heavy on my skin. I fight the sudden urge to sink farther into the shadows or smile too broadly to overcompensate for my unease.
I stand strong. And finally, she nods.
Careful not to read too much into the all-too-common action (she could have been silently agreeing that I deserve to return to my own time, or even deciding what to have for dinner once I do), I allow my shoulders to relax an inch.
“Come.”
With her edict, Reyna walks toward the back of the tent, candles along the ground flaring to life and leaving a glowing trail in her wake. The earthy, familiar scent of pine brings me back to the last time I was here. Back when I was so scared of the unknown. And now I am here again, asking for more of the same.
As she sits behind the small table lit by the sapphire candle, I smile at how much I truly have changed into the girl I once claimed to be.
And that’s why I must remain.
If I return to my life in the sixteenth century, it will be easy to fall into old habits, following others’ expectations of me and living the life Lucas told me about in the history books. My efforts will be consumed with hosting government balls and spending as much time as I can comforting my father before he dies.
That life, while sad, would not be a horrible one, which is the reason I hesitated in the library. My marriage to Domenico might not be based on love, but he would provide me with a good life. A decent life. One that, until I met Cat and Austin, was all that I could have asked for.
But instead, I choose the adventure. The unknown. The future.
“You believe your time here has changed you,” Reyna says as if reading my mind.
The rasp of her voice makes it difficult for me to read the intention behind her statement, and I cannot tell if she is disagreeing with my assessment or merely sharing a fact. Do I answer?
Then she continues before I can. “You wish to alter the fabric of time because of this transformation, but I already told you a decision like that is out of my power. What do you think has changed in the last two days to make that fact any different?”
Perhaps your suspicious use of the word “my” the last time you said that…
The more I have pondered it, the more I know there is something Reyna is not saying, something that she is hiding. And something she wants me to figure out on my own.
But for now I just say, “I have learned the details about the history—my history—that you say my decision will affect.”
I may not know who holds the power to alter history, but I do at least know that my decision will not start a war or wipe out an entire lineage.
Inhaling a pine-scented breath, stealing a moment to center my thoughts and galloping pulse, I look at the open seat opposite her. It is tempting to sink into the support of the wood, to relax the rigidity of my spine. But as I prepare to fight the most important fight of my life, I need to feel the solid ground beneath my feet, rooting me as I say, “I know about my marriage.”
I pause, and Reyna waves a hand for me to continue, the gold bracelets on her arms clinking gently as she does. The candlelight catches the gold, making them shimmer.
Staring at the soft shine of her jewelry, I say, “And I know that I remain childless”—I swallow past the pain those words cause—“at least in the sixteenth-century. Which means my lineage ends with me. My choice to remain here will not affect medical advancements or cause a political upheaval. I know that my father…” Here is where my voice finally breaks, but I cannot give in to the sadness now. I must plow through while I still can. “I-I know of his illness. I even know of my own death.”
My legs are shaking so badly now that I surrender to temptation and drop into the empty chair. But even so, I raise my head and meet Reyna’s gaze squarely.
“The truth is that even if I were to return to my own time, things could still change. I am a different person now, I might make different choices. I’m no longer content living my life timidly and being an observer. I want to be an active participant. The life I lived in the historical texts was a fine one, but I want more.”
A wonderful surge of energy rushes through my veins the more I speak, but I truly have no idea where my speech is coming from. Words are pouring out of my mouth without my giving them permission to do so, and I’m uttering beliefs that I have not even fully formed until they are spoken.
But as my thoughts take shape, my confidence builds.
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