He shivered and caught her wrist, bringing her hand to his 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 silk-covered 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 sixty-four 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.
With his right hand, he brushed one of the letters. A thin coating of something held it firmly in place. The other rotated easily.
He glanced at the door. The tantalizing odor of bacon frying wafted into the room, although it had thinned considerably. He was sure Becci was still busy in the kitchen, but it wouldn’t take her long to finish. He had to know if the gold was also in the dresser, but if he opened the compartment, would he be thrust back to his time?
They only had today. One day to love her and create memories that would have to last him for all eternity. He didn’t want to lose their time together b
ecause of some damn medallion.
But Becci needed the money he’d put in the secret compartment. If he found the gold she might have enough so that she wouldn’t have to sell. She might be wealthy. If she was, she would have her wish for her charity nursery. His future—their future—depended on what he found.
He put both hands on the belly-side of the initial that was stuck and pushed.
Nothing.
He drew in a deep breath and tried again, using a little more pressure. The letter snapped free. He rolled it on its side like he’d designed it and held it in place while he turned the second letter. The front slid down, easily.
Caleb paused. Fear sent a tremor rippling through him. It was too late to back out now. Slowly, he pulled out the shallow drawer. Sunlight ricocheted off the looking glass and hit the contents in the hidden compartment. His heart thudded against his chest. After all these years, the gold he’d tossed in here remained untouched.
He opened the deerskin pouch and emptied its contents, staring at the small, gold medallion nestled among the nuggets and other coins. Hesitantly, he traced the outline of the floral design that had fascinated him the first time he saw it. Catching the chain, he drew out the pendant, letting it spin in the sunbeams. Fragments of light flashed in every direction.
He lowered the Atlantean coin to his hand and brushed his thumb over the emblem again. Rebecca had given him the medallion, and he wished he could give it to Becci. He was sure it would be enough to save Berclair manor. It had been worth a fortune in his time, so it would surely be worth a couple of fortunes now. He curled his fingers over the circular piece. Was there some way he could get back to his time and leave this behind for Becci?
Caleb.
“Rebecca?” Caleb stared in disbelief at Rebecca’s image in the mirror. She wasn’t dead!
The medallion is yours, Caleb. My gift to you for Obadiah’s sins. It is one of the keys to happiness. Its secrets are many, and its treasures are great, but only if its owner is not greedy. You have proved that you are worthy of the coin.
Keeper of the Key Page 25