“Viviane! I mean to show you that I am a man who can be relied upon! I fulfill my obligations first, I heed my responsibilities first, I tend my duties first.” He took a step closer, having no intention of putting his persuasiveness aside. “I would do well by you, Viviane, and indeed, there is many a man who would treat you with less than your due.”
She backed into the wall, but her eyes were wide, her lips parted, her wisp of a dress driving Niall to distraction. He leaned over her and heard her breath catch in a way that fired his own blood.
“Viviane,” he whispered, touching her chin with one fingertip and tipping her face to his. “Let me persuade you of the good sense of this.”
She leaned towards him, her eyelids fluttering closed and Niall smiled in anticipation as he dipped his head. But his lips barely brushed across hers before the lady darted away, ducking under his arm, then wrenching open the door.
“I need rubbers,” she insisted anxiously. “Now.” She shook a finger at Niall when he might have argued the case. “No rubbers, no persuasion.”
Well, if she was going to put matters like that, Niall had no choice.
The lady would have her rubbers. He ran a tongue across his teeth and wondered if ’twas his unminted breath she found troublesome.
That, too, could be resolved with all haste.
*
Monty waited until Romeo and Juliet were out of sight and earshot, then darted into Barb’s shop. Barb was sitting at the counter, frowning at a ledger, and barely glanced up at his arrival.
“Psst, Barb!” Monty looked over his shoulder. “Where’s he taking her this time?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Come on, Barb!” Monty crossed the room to make his appeal, but Barb kept adding the columns. “You and I go ’way back, you ought to like know when I’m hurting.”
That made her glance up. “You owe me eight hundred and ninety-four dollars and sixteen cents. Ante up.”
“Man!” Monty pushed a hand through his hair in exasperation. This wasn’t going to make things any easier, but then, Barb never did. “Come on, Barb, we’re in this together. We could have been an item, if you’d like been interested at all…”
She gave him a withering glance. “An item?”
“Yeah, you know, you and me, it would have been perfect and it’s not like I haven’t tried…”
Her eyebrows lifted. “To empty my shop without paying for anything you took.”
“Hey, that’s like an assault on my character! I’ve sincerely tried to woo you for years but…”
Barb pointed in the general direction of her kitchen. “See that red rubber thingy hanging over the counter?”
Monty looked. It was a flat circle and had some pizza joint’s logo printed on it. “Yeah. What is it?”
“A jar opener. It’s the mark of an officially single woman, a woman who needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.”
Monty scowled. “Women need men for more than opening jars!”
“Yeah, well, several things in my lingerie drawer say I’ve got that covered, too.”
And she went back to her books.
Monty watched for a few moments, guessing that he was not in any way in line to get what he wanted. He decided on a bald appeal to her feminine pride.
“Hey, come on, Barb, it wasn’t such a long shot for me to think of you and me together. We’re two of a kind after all - book lovers! - and our species is getting seriously rare. Like dinosaurs, you know, we gotta breed before we’re extinct…”
“Dinosaurs! Thank you for that, Monty Sullivan.”
“Okay, okay, bad analogy. Really bad. Give me a second. Crusaders!” Monty snapped his fingers. “Crusaders on a quest to save the written word, yeah, I like that. We’re fighting undaunted against the adversity of publisher conglomerations and the onslaught of the visual age…”
“Cut to the chase.” Barb shut him down with a look just when he was warming to his theme. “What do you want this time, Monty?”
Monty tried to turn up the charm. “Hey, Barb, like, take it easy.” He smiled.
Barb didn’t.
“Hey, you know, about that bill, well, we all know that winter sucks for revenue, but spring will come, it always does. And then royalties roll in, regular as rain…”
“I thought royalties came in the fall, too.”
Monty squirmed. “Well, yeah, they do.”
Barb tapped the list of his acquisitions for the year. “Yet, oddly enough, none of those little pennies from heaven showed up here, posting against your account.”
“Hey, Barb, it was less than I thought! And my agent is like a thief, man, he hit me for all sorts of fees that I wasn’t expecting and then, well, I owed Derek a lump of cash and the feds were after me for my quarterly deposit…
“And I came last. Again. Same story as last spring.” She closed the book grimly and held his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’re back for more.”
“Well, just a couple of books.” Barb rolled her eyes but Monty leaned closer, intent on making his case while he could. “You see, it’s about Viviane and this guy. It’s just too weird the way he goes on about coming from Cantlecroft, like he really did or something. About her being a condemned witch. It’s creepy, don’t you think, like he’s got it in for her.”
Barb snorted and shook her head. “Viviane doesn’t seem to share your reservations. I just sent them out for rubbers.”
“Go on! Already?” Monty scowled. “And, like, how could you know?”
Barb almost smiled. “Monty, there are sounds even a dinosaur doesn’t forget.”
Monty exhaled mightily. “Okay, so like it’s really critical now. I have a bad feeling about this guy, like a really bad feeling, and you know, I just want to make sure Viviane is okay. You do, too, don’t you?”
Barb’s lips tightened, but she nodded.
Reluctantly.
Monty didn’t care that she wasn’t thrilled to be doing so, he just wanted his books.
“You see, here’s the thing. I called the re-enactment people and they didn’t know anything at all about Viviane - nothing! - let alone Niall, and he’s not the kind of guy you miss seeing, if you know what I mean. They never heard of Cantlecroft either. And that’s kind of weird, which makes me wonder whether he’s really who he says he is…”
Barb frowned. “But Viviane said she knows him.”
“So, maybe she’s not who she says she is!” Monty flung out his hands. “Maybe they’re part of a plot, maybe they’re like spies, maybe she’s defected and he’s been sent to eliminate her before she talks too much…”
Barb almost laughed. “You’ve been reading too many conspiracy theories. Or too much of your own fiction. You do know that the Cold War is over, Monty?”
“Barb, this is serious!”
“Because you’re crazy in love with Viviane?” She looked skeptical about that, but Monty couldn’t exactly avoid the question.
And he couldn’t lie when she looked him dead in the eye.
“Well, no, not exactly.” He fidgeted. “I mean, I like her and she’s cute and everything, but it’s more than that.”
“More, but not crazy in love.”
“So, I kind of have an investment here and it bugs me that this guy just swept it and scooped her up. There! I said it. Don’t shoot!”
“So, you want to prove him to be the spawn of Satan and pick up where you left off.”
Monty fidgeted. “Well, yeah. It’s not like a crime.”
“You guys are all the same.” Barb sighed before Monty could defend his gender. “How do I fit in to this great scheme?”
“Books.” Monty cast a longing glance in the direction of the history section. “I want to look up Cantlecroft, figure out what that reference is all about, read all about it. It might give me a clue.”
Barb pushed to her feet with resignation. “So, go ahead and look. Park yourself in the corner but don’t bend any of the pages or leave any nasty fingerprints in the sto
ck.”
“Actually -” Monty looked nervously toward the door “- I’d like to take them with me.”
Barb slammed the ledger on the counter and spun to face him. “Monty! You’ve confused this with the library again!”
“No, I’ve like been there and they have nothing. You know how pathetic the medieval history section is. And I need to know, I need to help Viviane, I need to make sure that this guy doesn’t mean her any harm…”
“To protect your investment.”
“Come on, Barb, give me some credit!”
She squarely met his gaze. “Your credit stinks. You pay this balance first, then we’ll talk.”
And that, Monty knew was that. He begged and cajoled, he tried to sweet-talk his way to a better deal, but no luck. Barb was adamant.
So, Barb got a rubber check and Monty got his books. He scampered down the street, trying hard to not feel guilty about tricking his old friend.
It was all for the greater good, after all.
Next royalty check, he’d pay Barb first.
With interest.
*
Chapter Thirteen
Viviane and Niall went to Mouats, because everyone knew that Mouats had everything.
Of course, Mouats had everything for outdoors and a good lot of stuff for indoors, but wasn’t a pharmacy by any stretch of the imagination. Viviane, unaware of exactly what she was shopping for, missed that critical distinction.
Niall trailed behind Viviane as she wound her way through the amazing displays of new goods, his interest snared by all the intriguing garments and tools, much as Viviane’s had been the first few times she came in here. She lost him a couple of times and had to go back to snag him by the arm, forcing him to follow her further into the store.
Because there was hope for him, even if he did insist on practicalities. She’d get the L-word out of him, Viviane knew it. She was born under a blue moon after all and destined to be lucky all of her days.
But she knew herself well enough to guess that there might be a few persuasive interludes before things were resolved.
When Niall did that thing with his thumb and smiled that smile that turned her knees to butter - like he was doing as they walked through the store - Viviane got dizzy just thinking about him losing track of practicalities again.
She had to get those rubbers.
Right now.
If she got pregnant, she knew Niall would carry her kicking and screaming to a priest, regardless of her thoughts on the matter. Viviane had to admit that it was kind of nice that he worried so much about doing the right thing. Obviously, the need of a child to have two parents was a big issue for Niall, and Viviane wondered why he worried about it so much.
Mouats was crowded as usual, though there were fewer and fewer tourists all the time. Viviane had learned to recognize several of the people who worked here and when one greeted her with typical charm, she caught at the girl’s arm.
“I need rubbers,” she hissed, not wanting everyone to know what she wanted, for they surely would guess why. “Where do I find them?”
“Oh, down in footwear.” The girl smiled encouragingly, though Viviane was scandalized by how loudly she talked. “Let me show you. We’re kind of running out, what with all this rain lately.”
Viviane could not imagine what rain had to do with conceiving children, though Mrs. Haggerty seemed to think it had a certain sensuous appeal. Puzzling over this, Viviane followed the clerk, and was even more puzzled when the girl presented a pair of dark green boots.
“What’s your size?”
Viviane wasn’t certain what she had expected, but she hadn’t expected boots. Niall snorted behind her and she felt her color rise.
What did boots have to do with conception?
Or more specifically, with avoiding conception?
She didn’t have to even look at Niall to know he had that skeptical expression again, but she knew to trust Barb. Barb understood things, Barb was wise, Barb was helpful.
Barb said she needed rubbers.
“I don’t know my size,” Viviane admitted. “I just tried these shoes until they fit.” The girl rummaged cheerfully for a silver implement, gestured to a chair, tugged off Viviane’s wet sneaker and quickly pronounced Viviane a seven and a half.
Then she was gone, darting through clients to the ‘back room’ from whence Viviane had seen many marvels issue.
Niall picked up one boot and looked at it, doubt in every line of his features. “This is a rubber?” He looked pointedly at her, his question not needing to be uttered, and Viviane shrugged.
“Maybe it’s part of a spell,” she said hastily. “Barb knows a lot and I’m sure that she wouldn’t give me bad advice.”
Niall cleared his throat and rolled his eyes. “A spell,” he said beneath his breath, as though it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
It did sound a bit unlikely, even to Viviane.
The clerk bounced back, dumped boots out of a box and offered them to Viviane. In no time at all, they were pronounced a fit and Viviane walked the length of the small area and back as it seemed what she was expected to do. She chewed her lip as she looked down at them, trying to figure out how they worked.
Perhaps they were intended to make her look unattractive.
She looked to Niall. “Do you find them -” she cleared her throat “- ugly?”
He smiled slowly, obviously discerning the direction of her thoughts. “Nay, my lady fair. They do naught but enhance the beauty of your legs,” he murmured, that sensuous gleam appearing in his eyes. “Indeed, I believe the color favors you most admirably.”
Uh oh.
Viviane looked back to the boots and the clerk grinned at her, obviously approving of Niall’s comment. “They look great on you, they really do. He’s right!”
Viviane cleared her throat, hating to appear foolish but needing to ask the question. “How exactly do they work?”
The clerk frowned. “What do you mean?”
Viviane could feel a blush rising over her cheeks, Niall’s wolfish grin doing nothing to ease her embarrassment. “What do I have to do?”
“Oh! Oh, these are really good ones, you don’t have to anything to take care of then. We don’t sell those cheapies. They’ll last the rest of your life, probably. Just don’t leave them in the hot sun for days and days, you know, but that’s hardly a problem here.”
The clerk smiled reassuringly.
Viviane thought about wearing clumpy green boots that came up to her knees for the rest of her life and wasn’t particularly reassured.
“I’m sure you’ll just love them,” the clerk enthused. “We’ve never had any complaints. They work just great and you know -” she leaned closer “- there’s nothing better in the garden.”
In the garden?
Niall cleared his throat deliberately and Viviane felt her blush get hotter. “I’ll take them,” she managed to say.
“Great, should I wrap them up?”
Viviane risked a glance to Niall, only to find his bright gaze fixed upon her with an intensity that could only mean one thing.
“I’d better wear them,” she whispered to the clerk, not in the least bit reassured when her knight chuckled and looked very pleased with himself. It seemed an eternity before they managed to pay and escape the store, and Viviane was well aware of Niall’s smile the whole time.
“I find myself feeling very persuasive,” he murmured as they stepped into the street and Viviane knew she blushed clear to her toes.
She gritted her teeth and seized his arm, practically dragging him to their next stop. He chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist in a companionable gesture that she didn’t quite want to shrug off.
En route, Niall pulled her to a halt and made a great show of peering into a neighboring garden, as though curious as to what the people there were doing.
“Indeed, I cannot help but think somewhat more favorably of Barb’s small garden,” he mused. Once aga
in, he smiled with the innocence of a child, though a wicked twinkle glinted in his eye.
He was teasing her!
“You have reading to do first,” Viviane declared as sternly as she could and Niall’s grin flashed.
“I do not believe we agreed that I should stop trying to persuade you in the interim,” he said silkily, then bent and kissed her before Viviane guessed what he was about.
She was trembling in her boots when he lifted his head and Niall had to know it. He started to whistle, striding along the street as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Viviane didn’t know whether to kiss him or kill him - he was so sure of her response.
And so good at cultivating it.
In a bittersweet irony that neither of them appreciated, their next stop was at the drugstore.
For toothbrushes.
*
Niall watched Viviane stride down the street to return to her labor, admiring how those green boots accented the slender perfection of her legs. With a sigh, he slipped back to Mouats, readily finding the woman who had been so helpful. She smiled at the sight of him and Niall knew he had been right to seek her aid.
She easily guided him through the choices of clothing and rendered him not only presentable, but she announced ‘delish’. This apparently was good. She also recommended a restaurant which was ‘divine’ when Niall confessed to wanting to impress his lady.
He returned to Viviane’s chamber, fed and well-garbed, then carefully brushed his teeth with his new brush. ’Twas not unpleasant to run his tongue across the smoothness of his teeth, though he quickly thought of running his tongue across the similar smoothness of Viviane’s and nigh forgot himself.
Niall considered her book. Aye, Viviane had been irked that he had not read more of it, despite more practical obligations. Niall pushed his mail aside. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to read the volume one more time.
And within moments, he was snared once more, for his lady had a skill unexpected. Each page he turned drew him more deeply into the tale, each scene ensured he must read just a bit more.
Time Travel Romances Boxed Set Page 90