Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Logan sat down beside her. Minutes ticked by in silence as Haven stared through the glass doors.
What was going on in her mind?
Regret scratched at the portico of his heart.
If she left, if they found a way to get her back to 2025, what would he do?
He wondered if life would return to normal.
He wondered if he would miss her, her face, her touch, her scent, her saucy mouth, and quick wit.
Did he even want her to leave? Yes, he did.
Didn’t he? How else could be keep his promise to never bed her again?
Memories of their passion and pleasure still heated his skin, and made his balls ache.
As promises went, it seemed an easy one to make in the dark of the night. But in the bright, revealing light of the sun, his vow turned to ash within his grasp.
He could keep her. He could make her want to stay.
No, that wasn’t fair. It was her life, and she wanted to get back to her own time, her own friends. She wanted to get back to her job, removing her clothes for men. Men who weren’t him. Men who could look upon her with greedy eyes and pockets filled with filthy lucre.
He shook his head. What she did with her life and body wasn’t his business, but dear God, he was jealous of men he’d never met, men he wanted to disembowel with a dull garden trowel. As anger roiled in his gut, he watched her beautiful, expressive face.
“The watch,” she blurted. “Esmae told me to ask the watch—no, she told me to ask Perez. She said he can hear me, which makes total sense because he’s responded to me a few times.” Like the first night when she’d walked into the black tent at the Carnal-Val
“Where is it now?” He stood, prepared to take immediate action.
“It’s in a drawer in the armoire.” Before she could move, he strode toward the door, but she grabbed his arm, and shook her head.
“Where’re you going? I’ll go. I think...
I think I need to talk to him alone. I don’t know if he’ll talk to me if someone else is there.
” At his anxious, disbelieving look, she said, “If you’re there, who knows what will happen.
He’s talked to me before, but I was alone.
” She rubbed at her arms, chilled even in the warmth of the afternoon.
He tensed, his expression one of deliberation. “Fine.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
Again, she remembered how supernatural, paranormal, and unreal her situation was.
Time travel, three real goddesses, dark witchcraft, a book of spells, an old Roma woman who could apparently manipulate smoke to do her bidding, and a gorgeous philanderer slumbering in her panty drawer—what part of that didn’t sound insane?
She smirked.
When she got back to 2025 and told the girls where she’d been, they’d look at her like she’d gone completely nuts, then they would order Chinese takeout, and tell her to spill every detail.
God, she missed them. The yawning hole in her heart ached to be refilled with long talks, loud, riotous laughter, and the smiles and hugs of her dearest besties.
She nodded to Logan.
“Wish me luck. I’m about to boldly go where no woman has gone before.” His confused expression made her smile.
Of course he didn’t get the reference, but at least she got to have a laugh at his expense.
He dragged in and then slowly exhaled a long breath.
“While I doubt your bedroom is uncharted territory, I do wish you...er...luck. Please be careful.” Care and concern poured from his countenance.
“I will.” She gave him a crooked smile, and left the room, making her way upstairs to where Perez waited, nestled within the softness of her neatly folded underwear.
Haven didn’t know how long she’d been staring at the drawer in the armoire.
Blinking, she reached out and pulled the drawer open. Nothing popped out. No spooky voices burst from inside. No weird or otherworldly things happened. Glad that she didn’t have to fish her nerve out from the bottom of her dainty slippers, she took the watch by the chain.
To the human eye, it looked like a normal, beautifully crafted pocket watch. It certainly looked like the kind of bauble she could buy from QVC.
“If only I’d bought you from QVC, I’d have sent you back and asked for a watch without the long-enslaved Romany prince trapped inside it.” Expecting her voice to have elicited some kind of response, she was surprised when it remained cold, dead, and very much QVC normal.
She’d try a different tactic. “Perez?” His name felt like a bright red cape flaunted in the face of an enraged bull. Surely he’d respond to his own name.
Moments passed and nothing happened. Had he left? He was allowed to wander about outside the confines of the watch, but where would he go? What could he be doing?
She couldn’t give up now, not when speaking with him was the only course of action left open—other than ending her own life, and hoping to be reborn in the future as a Kardashian.
It was down to the wire, the last two seconds of overtime, tied score, and her only option to win the game was a free throw.
From the half court line.
Determined to give it one last try, she did something she’d regret later. She rubbed the cool surface of the watch against the globe of her breast. She started at the coolness against her skin, goosebumps rising along her breast.
She nearly screeched when a deep accented voice purred against her ear, “Pakvora, a warmer welcome I could not imagine.”
Turning, she knew she wouldn’t find him standing there, but the thought of a disembodied voice husking beside her strummed the harp strings of her anxiety to a higher pitch.
“Okay, is there some kind of enchanted spirit alert system you can use to tell me you’re here? A bell, whistle, crashing cymbals, or something?” She couldn’t see him, but she had the impression he was smiling.
By the foot of her bed, she heard, “How could I enjoy such delicious sights if I went about with a bell around my neck? I’m not cattle. Besides, it would get in the way, no?”
Haven knew she’d regret asking, but she couldn’t help it. “Get in the way of what?”
She was sure he smiled and quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn’t know how she knew he was making facial expressions. She only had glimpses of him through his own memories. From what she’d envisioned, he’d been a gorgeous man; tall, dark, and horny.
Great, just what I need. An invisible man with a love for the ladies. I should probably get dressed under the covers from now on.
Stuck in her own brain, which was a location she found herself in increasing frequency of late, she nearly had a heart attack when a voice came out of the empty space in front of her face. “In the way of my plans, of course.”
“What—”
“And before you ask what plans, I must ask you something.”
She narrowed her eyes at what she thought was the location of his face. What did he want? Though she’d rather be grilling him for answers, she doubted she’d get anywhere unless she played along.
“Go ahead.” Her words were acquiescent, but her tone and stance read barely tolerating.
She planted her hands on her hips, and tilted her head. Waiting.
Silence met her response, again. She was getting tired of not knowing what he was doing, where he was standing, or whether he was leering at her or making faces at her. For God’s sake, he could be staring down the front of her dress and she’d never know it.
Before he could begin, Roselyn entered the room. Her look of surprise gave Haven pause.
She thought the room unoccupied.
Why was the maid here; she hadn’t called for her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t know you’d be here. Please forgive my intrusion.” Bowing, she made to leave.
Nuh uh.
“Do you need something?” Her suspicions rose when a blush stole over the maid’s face.
She eyed the maid’s hands as she wrung them beneath the white apron she wore.
She was definitely acting suspiciously; as a matter of fact, she’d always been quiet and withdrawn, even for a housemaid. What was wrong with her?
Averting her eyes from Haven’s inquiring gaze, Roselyn stuttered, “I...I was looking for something I thought I dropped in here this morning.”
“What is it?”
Looking to all the world like a trapped rabbit, the girl replied, “Er...it was a small trinket from my bracelet.” Roselyn quickly placed a hand over her wrist, rubbing at the joint as if it itched.
“What bracelet?” She’d never seen the maid wear one.
“Well, it broke, you see. That is why the trinket was lost. I am looking for it so I can fix it.” While it sounded like a logical explanation, it also sounded fabricated.
“I see. Let me help you look.” Glad that Perez kept silent through the exchange, she smiled, hoping to keep any inkling of her suspicions quiet.
Tucking the watch, and Perez, under her pillow, she set about looking for a most likely made-up trinket.
After a few moments of half-heartedly searching under chairs and behind furniture, she exclaimed, “Sorry, I don’t think it’s here.”
Roselyn straightened from her crouch by the armoire, and nodded.
“No, I suppose I must have dropped it somewhere in the servant’s quarters.” Dipping a curtsy, Roselyn thanked her for her assistance, and quickly disappeared through the door.
“Well that wasn’t the least bit odd.”
“What would you call it then?” The voice wasn’t muffled despite the watch being shoved under layers of feathers and fabric.
“I don’t know, but if she was looking for something, it wasn’t a trinket.”
She retrieved the watch, and sat at the edge of the bed.
“I’m surprised you didn’t say anything. You seem like the type of...uh...person who’d enjoy freaking people out.”
Tsking, Perez replied, “I could have said whatever I wanted. She wouldn’t have heard a word.”
Her snort erupted into a bark of laughter. “How does that work?”
“Everything I am saying right now I am saying in your mind. I can choose to speak aloud or directly into a person’s thoughts.”
Sweat beaded against her top lip. She flicked it away with the tips of her trembling fingers. “What do you mean?”
“I am using telepathy. The goddesses have empowered me to communicate to the mind of those I choose.”
“Ah.” Nodding, but not entirely sure she understood, she swallowed. “You’ve been locked away for centuries, how do you speak like someone from twenty-first century Europe?”
His rumbling laughter sent tingles along her spine. It was a pleasant laugh, but it chilled her.
“Though I’ve been trapped, I’ve had more than enough exposure to people to pick up a few things.”
“Were you always locked in a box?”
“No. After the spell took hold, the girl who cast it was captured and made to admit what she’d done.
Because of her crimes against our people, they cast her out and left her to wallow in her evil.
Most of the time, my family kept my vessel safe.
Over the years, the watch has been handed down from generation to generation. ”
Things became clearer. “So, Carlenna….” Awe deepened her voice.
“Is my great, great, great, great, great niece. Give or take a few greats.”
A buzzing erupted in her ears. “Oh.”
Ready to quit the short yet informative rabbit trail, she brought the conversation back to where it was before the skulking housemaid’s interruption.
“What did you want to ask me before Roselyn came in?”
“Ah, yes.” He paused half a second before he asked, “What do you want?”
She let out a heavy sigh, and rolled her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“What do you want most?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and cocked her head. “What does that have to do with anything?”
If a spirit could roll its eyes, Perez was doing it.
“It has everything to do with everything.”
She blew out a breath, and shrugged. “Whatever.” Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, she pinched her eyes shut and opened them again. “What do I want? I want to get home.”
Silence. Then, “Is that so?”
If a spirit could rub its chin in thought, that’s what he was doing.
“Yes, I want to get back to my life in 2025—the life you took me from.”
“Do you?” His questioning tone raised the hairs along her neck.
She heaved a loud sigh. “Yes.”
“Why, I wonder.” The questioning tone grated against her nerves, sending waves of anger into her chest.
“Because it’s my life, why else would I want to get back to it?” Her voice pitched an octave, but she couldn’t seem to bring her urge for violence under control. She wanted to punch something.
Her fingers flexed against her thigh.
“I only ask because from what I’ve seen, heard, and gleaned from your life in 2025, you weren’t happy.”
Tilting her chin to the ceiling, she sniffed. “What do you know about my life?”
“Everything.” His condescending tone rippled through her, burning at her nerve endings.
It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“You were born to a teenage girl with more hair than sense. She grew to be a hallow husk of a woman who would latch onto the first sweet words a terrible man said to her. You lived with your stepfather for over a decade, and you spent most of those years avoiding him. He enjoyed taunting your mother, using her for all she was worth. He stole your childhood from you, didn’t he? ”
She couldn’t answer for the lump in her throat. Trembling shook her whole body.
“After high school you wanted to leave your past behind, but your experiences and your past led you right into the arms of a man who took your physical innocence, and then used you to pay off his gambling debts. When the collections department came to collect, you were forced to drop out of school and take a job as a stripper to pay off your husband’s debts.
Sure, you met a few great friends along the way, but in the meantime, you spent your nights degrading yourself in front of men who, just like your stepfather and husband, used you for their own purposes.
It wasn’t until I called you to me at the Carnal-Val that your life made a turn for the better. ”
Speechless, the warmth drained from her face. Her clammy hands shook, and her heart thudded painfully.
Was he right? Was that her life?
Blood pounded through her ears, and her breaths came in painful gulps.
“How dare you say those things about me? I was happy. My life was everything I wanted it to be! I had just cut ties with Elgin forever, and a new chapter in my life was starting. How am I supposed to start my life over if I’m stuck in goddamn England in the goddamn nineteenth century?”
Red filled her gaze. She paced, her feet pounding into the carpet in a rapid footfall.
Through the haze in her mind, Perez began, “You say you were beginning a new chapter in your life....”
“Yes,” she practically shrieked.
“Why can’t your new chapter begin with, ‘In 1817...’?”