Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jake swung around to see who had spoken.
It was a young, nicely dressed woman with dark hair, light eyes and a questioning expression on her face.
He had the feeling he’d seen her before.
It took a moment to place her, but when he realized who she was, his heart skipped a beat. It was Evelyn Morgan.
Rachel had also turned and was staring at the woman.
“What are you doing here?” Evelyn asked in a brisk voice.
“Sorry. I . . . uh . . . I think we’re at the wrong place,” he managed to say, although his mouth was suddenly so dry that he could hardly speak. How could this woman see them when none of the other adults had done it?
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at them. “You shouldn’t be in here unless you have business with Dr. Solomon.”
They must have become more solid and real looking while they’d been in the clinic. Or maybe Evelyn had the same ability as the young Rachel. In her case, because she’d seen them before, and she recognized them.
No wait. Not before. Later.
Trying to figure it out had his head swimming. Still he knew what they had to do.
“I’m sorry. We’re leaving,” he said quickly, hoping they could get out the door before Evelyn came over.
“Just a minute.”
Ignoring her, he kept walking with Rachel at his side.
It had been hard to walk toward the exit, but it seemed that Evelyn Morgan’s voice had broken the spell that kept them in the room.
He reached the barrier, turned the door handle and walked out into bright sunshine.
Rachel let out the breath she must have been holding.
“It was her,” she said. “She was younger, but it was her.”
“Yeah. When she took a step, I saw the limp.”
“Did she work there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she had some other business at the place.”
She turned to look at the plate beside the door. Now she could read it, and it said, “Solomon Clinic.”
The door behind them opened, and Evelyn Morgan stepped out.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I’m afraid not.” Jake tightened his grip on Rachel’s hand and started down the street.
He was worried that Evelyn Morgan would follow, but he heard no footsteps behind him.
In the distance he heard a police siren.
“Are they coming for us because we weren’t authorized to be in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Now what?”
He knew how they had traveled to the past. He hoped to hell they could leave using the same technique, but not in front of anyone else.
His heart was pounding as he ducked between a hardware store and a restaurant called the Waterside, coming to an abrupt stop when he found they were facing a bayou. The restaurant had a wooden deck overlooking the water, with tables where patrons could eat.
He and Rachel climbed onto the deck, out of the passageway between the buildings.
“Now what?” Rachel gasped as she looked around. “She must have seen where we went.”
The deck projected over the water, where he could see a turtle swimming and an alligator on the opposite bank.
Rachel followed his gaze. “We’re trapped.”
“No. We don’t have to stay here.”
Jake turned her toward him, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her close.
“Think only of me,” he murmured as he brought his mouth down on hers.
He tried to ignore the sound of voices coming toward them and closed his eyes, focusing intently on the woman in his arms. The feel of her body pressed to the length of his. The urgency of her kiss. The sensation of his hands traveling up and down her body, molding her hips to his.
The world seemed to swirl around them, and he fought a dizzying sensation. It felt like the two of them were caught in a whirlwind, being lifted off their feet and thrown through the air.
Rachel gasped and clung to him, and all he could do was wrap her more tightly in his embrace.
He tried to thrust away the idea that they were going to get caught. And then what? Would they be stuck here? Well, that was one solution to their problems. If they stayed back here in time, the cops in New Orleans wouldn’t be after them. Maybe they could even save Evelyn Morgan’s life.
As those thoughts chased themselves through his brain, he found that he and Rachel weren’t standing anymore. They were lying on a bed.
He opened his eyes and looked around, trying to remember where he was–and when.
The scene solidified, and he knew they were back in the motel room.
He couldn’t be sure of the exact time, but he did know that Rachel was in his arms, naked to the waist, her breasts pressed to his chest. Arousal, hot and urgent, sealed them together.
“What happened?”
“Later,” he muttered as he brought his mouth back to hers for a frantic kiss.
He’d never wanted a woman more. Never needed this woman more. And she must have agreed, because her mouth began to move against his with urgency.
He felt as if he were drowning, with no one to save him except Rachel.
Perhaps she was feeling the same thing, because she made a hungry sound and slid her arms around his neck. Her lips never leaving his, she deepened the kiss.
He had wanted her since they’d first come here and all the way through the scene in the clinic.
Now he felt his heart slamming against the inside of his chest as he gathered her to him.
He was lost in the taste of her, the feel of her mouth on his. They had traveled on an extraordinary journey, but his only reality was the warm, pliant woman in his arms swamping his senses, threatening to drive every coherent thought from his mind.
And he heard her thoughts echoing his.
It was the same for her. The very same.
When her hands slid to his hips, and she pulled him to her, rocking her body against the rigid flesh behind his fly, he thought he would go out of his mind.
Then her hands were at the button of his jeans. When she’d opened it, she began lowering the zipper.
Exactly what he’d been silently begging her to do.
And he did the same for her, helping her shuck off the jeans that had kept them from making love before their strange journey.
He wanted her with a physical need that bordered on madness, but that was only a small part of what he felt for her.
With her he could have all the things he’d always craved. Things he had never allowed himself to put into words.
Because he still could hardly believe them, he focused on the physical. He wanted to enjoy every moment of her pleasure before he took anything for himself.
He caressed her from shoulder to hip, enjoying the feel of his hand sliding over her silky skin and the feel of her body stirring under his touch.
Delicately he stroked the inner curve of one breast, then the other, gratified when he heard her breath catch and then quicken for him.
She liked what he was doing. He knew that from her physical response and from her thoughts. Still, he caught her frustration and realized she wasn’t going to let him slow them down.
Before he could do anything about it, she had pushed him to his back and climbed on top of him, bringing him inside her.
She hardly waited for the two of them to absorb that sensation before she began to move, setting a frantic rhythm that pushed them toward a blazing climax that flashed through them like strokes of lightning.
He felt her contract around him, felt her ecstasy wash over him, felt more than he had ever felt possible.
Then she collapsed on top of him in a damp heap, and they clung together.
He wrapped his arms around her as they lay panting on the bed. Neither of them had to ask if it had been good. They both knew.
He closed his eyes, stroking his lips against her cheek.
Did you ever travel in time like that before?
Never. You?
No.
Why was Evelyn Morgan there?
I don’t know.
Is that how she knew us? She’d seen us before.
He thought about that. She was younger. We were in her past, but she was seeing us the way we are now.
But did she remember that when she came to New Orleans to find us?
Again, there was no sure answer.
We could have warned her.
About something that was going to happen a quarter century later?
She made a rough sound. I guess you’re right.
We had to get away.
She nodded against his shoulder.
When he started to sit up, she kept her hand on his arm. Stay with me for a while.
He lay back down and tried to relax, but he knew she felt his tension–mental and physical.
Finally she rolled to her side. Okay. Go check your computer.
Sorry.
No, you’re right. We can’t just stay here enjoying ourselves. We have to figure out where the Solomon Clinic is.
He got up and got the laptop that he’d brought. When he turned back, he saw her straightening the bed.
Setting the computer down again, he helped her pull up the sheet, blanket and spread.
As she reached for her bra and panties, he stifled his impulse to stop her.
Modesty.
Less fun.
More focus on business.
As a concession to that idea, he pulled on his briefs before punching up the pillow and climbing back into bed.
Rachel moved beside him so she could see the screen while he did a Google search.
He put in the date he thought was right for their visit, then the Solomon Clinic and the Waterside Restaurant.
In seconds the search engine had come back with the name of a town.
Houma, Louisiana.
They looked at each other.
“Not too far from here. I guess you were right about which direction to head in.” He checked a little farther.
“The Waterside Restaurant’s still there.
” It had a Web site, and he clicked on a picture of the deck out back which didn’t look too different from when they’d seen it before, although the furniture had been updated.
“Maybe we can get some crawfish étouffée. And some information.”
Maybe we have to be cautious. Eric Smithson might be waiting in town, hoping we’ll show up.
How would he know we’d go there?
If he knows about the place, he might assume we’d be trying to find out about it. But we have to take that chance.
He moved restlessly on the bed. “I’d like to flush him out–if he’s there.”
“After we get a little sleep,” she countered.
“Are you stalling?”