Kiss Across Tomorrow (Kiss Across Time Book 8)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Veris’ smile was warm. “When the dance has ended, I will take you home and my reputation will remain intact.”

  Taylor didn’t tease him anymore, for the music started again and she was too entranced with the swaying and gliding and turning to bother with conversation. She felt completely safe in Veris’ arms.

  Regret touched her as the music ended. She sighed. “Oh, I so enjoyed that, Veris!”

  He kept hold of her hand. “Another time, perhaps. It is already late. Over to the steps,” he told her. He skated toward the bank, pulling her behind him. In one respect, Taylor didn’t mind stopping—her ankles were aching badly. She let him help her up the steps. They moved over to one of the benches. She sat with a touch of relief.

  Veris waved to a man carrying a silver pot. The man hurried up to him.

  “The lady’s boots, if you please,” Veris said. He glanced at Taylor’s feet. “Black, fur trimmed, with silver buttons. And mine. The largest pair of military boots.”

  The waiter bobbed his head and hurried away again.

  “How do you know what boots I was wearing?” Taylor demanded. “Even I don’t know that.”

  “Black, fur and silver buttons matches the rest of what you are wearing,” Veris told her as he sat on the bench beside her and tackled the laces on his skates.

  Another waiter approached them. “Mulled wine, sir?”

  Veris glanced at Taylor. “Would you like some? It takes an hour to reach Oslo from here.”

  Her eyes widened. The automatic “no thank you,” had risen to her lips. Now she understood.

  She was human. This time was before she was turned. It was why the cold registered so plainly upon her face. It was why she had found the dancing exhilarating. It was why she had been so aware of Veris’ arm about her.

  “Perhaps a small cup,” she said diffidently. Her heart thudded with an odd excitement. What would eating and drinking be like now?

  The waiter picked up a cup from his tray and poured the requested small amount and held it out to her with a bow. The second waiter hurried up, carrying knee high military boots, and a small pair of black, fur trimmed boots with silver buttons and a low heel. He put the boots on the bench between Veris and Taylor, placed a boot hook beside them, then hurried away again.

  Taylor sipped the wine. It was warm. The scent of the herbs and spices was delicious. Then the tastes registered and she sighed.

  Veris dropped to his knee in front of her and picked up her foot and rested it on his bent knee.

  “You don’t have to do that!” she said, alarmed.

  “Hush,” he said, tackling her laces. “What sort of seducer would I be, if I left you to deal with your own laces? Drink and relax.” His gaze met hers for a second, then he concentrated on tugging the laces undone and working them loose, so he could ease the skate from her feet.

  She wore white stockings beneath. He slid his thumb over her ankle. “Silk,” he said, as her flesh beneath the stocking sizzled and the nerves rippled.

  Veris pushed her boot on and used the hook with practiced dexterity to slip the loops over the long row of small buttons. Then, the other foot.

  “I’m glad it’s you doing that,” Taylor murmured. “We’d be here until sunrise, if it was me.”

  Veris settled on the bench beside her once more. “Exactly,” he said in agreement. “Plus, now everyone has seen me with my hands on your ankles and will draw the correct conclusion.”

  Taylor finished her wine while Veris removed his skates and thrust his feet into the boots and tugged them on. Then he tied each set of skates together by their laces and picked up both pairs in one hand. “Shall we?” he asked.

  Taylor got to her feet. No sliding. She was grounded once more and relieved to be. She nodded.

  They moved through the tables and benches onto a well-beaten and smooth path in the snow.

  “Colonel Lund!” came a call.

  Veris looked up and around.

  A dark-haired man in a fur hat and coat was sitting on a padded chair, which rested on straw which had been spread across the snow. Another almost-as-tall chair sat beside his. The woman on the chair was wrapped to the chin in furs, too. The man gestured for Veris to come over.

  Veris turned and gave the same short bow which many of the military men had been doing. “No help for it,” he murmured. He glanced at her. “You’re a woman of these times, remember.”

  Taylor nodded and followed him over to the area where the straw gave better footing and stepped on to it.

  Veris stopped in front of the man. “Your highness.” He gave a formal bow. “May I introduce to you Mrs. Tyra Gerhardsson.”

  Taylor curtsied. “Your highnesses,” she murmured.

  The King nodded to her. “Mrs. Gerhardsson. I don’t know your family?”

  “From the north, your highness,” Veris said.

  “Ah…” the King said, losing interest. “Have you enjoyed the evening, Colonel?”

  Veris glanced at Taylor. “Very much, your highness.”

  The King’s smile was knowing. “I will see you at the meeting tomorrow?”

  “The first military council meeting of your reign? I would be a fool to miss such an occasion.”

  The King smiled. “Then I bid you a good evening, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, your highness.”

  “Mrs. Gerhardsson,” the King added.

  Taylor curtsied again, then followed Veris back to the path. “A mere colonel advises the King?” she breathed.

  “Colonel Lund taught the King to shoot straight,” Veris breathed, as they trod the length of the path toward a line of trees. Between the trees, Taylor could see a row of waiting carriages, the horses covered in blankets and blowing steam from their noses. “Now King Haakon is grateful and considers me an ally in the battle between the crown, the politicians and the military.”

  “Are you an ally?”

  “Yes,” Veris said firmly. “Last year, Norway achieved independence from Sweden. Now is the first time Norway has not been attached to another country or alliance in over three hundred years. A few months ago, Haakon was crowned king, the first king of an independent Norway in centuries.”

  “Is that why you’re back in Norway after so long? Because it is independent now?”

  “It was pure coincidence I returned here ten years ago, although I am glad I was here to see this. Haakon is a good man.” Veris wove between the trees, heading for a carriage. The driver saw him coming, threw off the blanket and jumped down to open the door.

  The carriage had the top down, as did all the others waiting for their passengers along the edge of the snowy road.

  Taylor saw there were no wheels on the carriage. “A sleigh…!” she breathed, delighted.

  Veris put his hand on the little door, holding it aside, and held the other out to help her up into the carriage. “A one-horse open sleigh,” he added, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

  As the driver stripped the blankets from the horse, Veris waited for Taylor to settle on the seat, then sat beside her. He reached for a pile of furs sitting folded on the opposite bench. He shook them out and put them over their knees and up about their waists.

  Then he fussed with her collar, making sure it was firmly closed. “You don’t want to get cold,” he murmured.

  Taylor didn’t think she could get cold. The mulled wine was warming her innards and this evening was too delightful to worry about a small chill in the air.

  The driver tapped the horse with his whip and the horse stepped out, turning the sleigh. Then he moved with muffled clops down the white, gleaming road, passing the other carriages and sleighs.

  Taylor marveled at the smooth ride. The carriage was sprung, so any bumps or ruts beneath the snow didn’t jar them. The runners bridged holes which a wheeled carriage would have rolled into and bounced out.

  The wind of their passage brushed her face, as they passed the last of the carriages and moved along a road winding through tall,
black trees. Taylor turned her chin up to look at the sky. The stars were still there in their millions, bright and breath-taking.

  Apart from the shushing sound of snow beneath the runners and the soft clip of the horse’s hooves, there was no other sound. It was a majestic, silent landscape. Ahead, she could see the glitter of lights which marked the edges of Oslo, on the other side of the lake.

  “Oh, this is so beautiful!” she breathed, awed.

  “Are you warm enough?” Veris asked.

  “I wouldn’t care if I was icy cold, not while I’m looking at this,” Taylor said.

  Veris’ hand found hers beneath the furs. “I knew you would like it,” he said softly.

  They absorbed the moving scene in silence, after that.

  The first of the buildings which marked the edge of Oslo were almost upon them when Veris stirred and turned on the bench to look at her properly. “I wanted you to see this.”

  Taylor nodded and pulled the fur up a little higher. It really was cold. “I’m glad I did. Thank you for bringing me here.” She kept the statement bland, for they were using Norwegian and she was conscious of the driver sitting in front of them.

  “There is one other reason I brought you here,” Veris said.

  Her heart gave a little flutter. “A perfect night to ease the impact of what you must now tell me?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

  Veris didn’t answer at once, which made her heart do more than flutter. Taylor swallowed.

  “You are justified to jump to such a conclusion,” he said, speaking English, which sounded harsh to her. He shook his head. “I wanted you to see this. Norway—my country, at one of its peaks of peace and prosperity. And also because…” He hesitated. “Brody did not come here,” he said softly. “Not this time. Not for many of the times I found myself returning. Most of those were brutal times. This time is a rare one, which he did not see either.”

  Taylor sighed unhappily. “Will we ever be able to speak of him without our hearts tearing?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Veris said, his voice low. “I’ve never had to try, before.” He tucked his hand over her waist and drew her closer to him. He was warm under the furs, which proved how cold it was outside them.

  Taylor shivered and snuggled closer.

  “I wanted you to share this time with me,” Veris said. “A time Brody does not know.”

  Her heart squeezed hard again. “Why?” she whispered.

  “Because it’s time to let him go.”

  Taylor dropped her head on Veris’ shoulder as the pain tore through her whole body. She shook her head, her cheek scraping against his coat. “No, he might come back. He might realize, after a time, that he was wrong. If we let go, if we move on, then how does he come back?”

  Veris lifted her chin. “He isn’t coming back,” he said, his tone gentle. “This isn’t one of his breaks. He’s never left me for someone else, as he did this time. He’s never left us. This isn’t the same. He’s gone.”

  The pain was clawing at her throat, making her eyes ache and her heart to skid about in a sick, giddy movement. “I love him!” she whispered.

  Veris nodded. “I know. You love him as much as I do, which is why we have to let him go. I can barely say the words, Taylor. They are acid etching into my soul. Yet they must be said. We love him in a way which time cannot erase and for that reason, we must give him what he wants.”

  She broke. She wept, her hands fisted against Veris’ chest. Each tear hurt. Every sob burned her chest and scoured her throat. Veris held her silently, letting her vent herself upon him. He pulled the furs up higher around her, shielding her from the cold and from observers on the mostly empty streets.

  As her sobs tapered, he kissed her forehead and tucked her even more tightly against him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Veris’ apartment was on the second floor of a high-ceilinged building on a broad avenue. The interior walls were cream with gilt flourishes and the floors a highly polished parquet. The furniture matched the elegance.

  A single lamp burned on a table by the window, casting enough light to illuminate most of the big room and make the furniture gleam.

  Taylor barely cared. Dully, she took off her gloves and tried to unbutton her coat.

  Veris closed the apartment door and turned the big iron key. “Here, let me do that,” he told her, as he hung his hat on the hat stand by the door. He took off her hat and unfastened the coat buttons with swift movements, then hung the coat.

  Taylor looked down at her clothes. She wore a matching skirt and jacket. The jacket was long, ending mid-thigh, with the same black braid patterns. The sleeves were full at the top.

  “Very smart for here and now,” Veris observed.

  “Why are you not upset?” she demanded. “Why is this not killing you?”

  Veris stopped working the buttons on his coat. He dropped his hands. “I was upset. For weeks. You saw the end of it, in Granada. I couldn’t make myself accept this. You reminded me of something which made it easier, though.”

  “I did?”

  He nodded and slipped the last buttons undone and hung the coat on another hook of the hat stand. He wore a military tunic beneath. He brushed his fingers through his short locks. “You reminded me that I have something to look forward to, instead of looking back and mourning.”

  Taylor had no response to that. She was too tired and too drained.

  Veris cupped her cheek. “You, Taylor.” He dropped his hand. “That is, if you will have me after this.” He drew her farther into the room. “Come over here. Sit down.”

  Her heart stirring, Taylor let him pull her over to the high-backed sofa and sit her on the deep cushions. Veris sat on the low round table in front of the sofa, so their knees were only inches apart—hers covered in layers of petticoat and wool tweed, his covered in green twill.

  Veris rested his elbows on his knees and linked his hands together. “I don’t know how to beg, although I would if I did,” he said, his voice low. “I ignored you. I even rejected you—” He nodded as her eyes widened. “I haven’t forgotten, Taylor. You wanted me. You wanted comfort. I’ve made you lonely when you needed me most and my only excuse is that I’ve never had to deal with…with losing someone, before. I’ve avoided it for fifteen hundred years. I never learned how. In my arrogance, I never thought I would have to learn. I was that sure of Brody. And of you, too.”

  Taylor shook her head. “I would never leave you. Not unless you sent me away, and perhaps not even then.”

  Veris didn’t smile. “You can’t say that for certain. You don’t know the future. None of us does.” He grimaced. “It is a thing I’ve been reminded of, lately.” He reached for her hand. It was her left hand. He touched the ring finger, which was bare. “You took them off.”

  “Things change when you come through time,” Taylor said quickly. “Even for me, even if I didn’t exist here at the time—”

  Veris shook his head. “I noticed, in Granada,” he said gently. “I sat on the floor and could hear and see everything and couldn’t move. You held my hand, Taylor. I saw your bare finger then. I think it was the last straw. It was the thing which made me take a breath.” His thumb stroked her finger. “I was appalled at what I had done.”

  “It’s just that the rings lock together, yours and Brody’s,” Taylor said, her heart aching. “If I took off one…”

  “Then you thought the other must come off with it,” Veris finished. “I made you believe that. I let you think that without Brody, I couldn’t love you.”

  Taylor couldn’t deny that fear. She had lived with it for weeks. Now, though, hearing it spoken aloud felt as though it was being made real. Her eyes prickled with more hurtful tears.

  Veris kissed her hand. “I couldn’t bring the ring back in time with me. It’s waiting for when we get back…that is, if you want to wear it again. It’s the remaining reason why I wanted to bring you back here.” He wiped her cheeks. “The catharsis of tears.
You have no idea how I wish I’d had that luxury, these last few weeks.”

  Taylor sniffed. “It hurts,” she whispered.

  Veris grimaced. “Then let’s stop hurting each other. Let’s start again, Taylor.”

  “Just you and me?”

  Veris’ grasp tightened around her fingers. “We’ll learn how,” he said, his voice low. “We have all of time in which to learn.” His voice grew hoarse. “I love you. I didn’t know how much until the last few awful days. There will be wretched days yet to deal with, I’m sure. I don’t want you to think you must deal with them alone, anymore.” He hesitated. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

  Taylor slipped off the sofa and put her arms around his neck. It meant she was on her knees, but she didn’t care. “I will,” she whispered.

  Veris picked her up and put her on his lap. He was so large that even sitting on his lap, her head was not much higher than his. He looked up at her. His eyes were very blue. “I do, too,” he breathed and kissed her.

  It was the first time they had properly kissed since Brody left. It felt like a first time. She felt as though she was relearning Veris’ taste and smell. His touch.

  His tongue swept into her mouth, outlining her lips, tangling with her tongue and Taylor sighed her pleasure. It had been far too long!

  Veris did not stop kissing her. It was as if he was trying to make up for lost time. He undressed her as he kissed her, only releasing her mouth to draw garments over her head…and she was wearing many of them. As more of her flesh was revealed, his lips moved to her skin and his tongue stroked her.

  He wouldn’t let her undress him, when she tried. “This time is yours,” he murmured against her neck. He stroked her pulse and breathed her scent as he unhooked her corset.

  The last layers dropped to the floor, all except her stockings. Veris paused long enough to ease her feet from her boots. “Leave them on,” he said, trailing his fingers up the length of her leg to the top of the stocking where the green garter held it just above her knee.

  She shivered. She was naked except for the stockings and felt an enormous self-consciousness, for Veris still wore his army tunic and boots. Her breasts were aching, the tips shrieking for attention. The rest of her throbbed.