There was no space in her life for romance. She’d only dated three guys in the last ten years, and she’d had sex just a handful of times. She had no idea how to flirt, or what to expect from a guy who was coming at her with wolf eyes like Logan was.
No. She was about to make a huge fool of herself or, even worse, of him. She needed to do something. To distract him. To reject him without rejecting him.
She backed away, hands shaking, until her back touched something hard. Metal rattled, and she turned around. The grating across the opening to the tower. The tower that had allegedly been built upon a time traveling rock. Yes, she could talk about that.
She went behind the grating and walked towards the gaping entrance to the tower.
“Do you want to take a tour of the dungeons, darlin’?” Logan pushed past the grating.
A crooked smiled played on his lips.
“Uhm, no.” Kate smiled nervously. “I just had an interesting talk with someone who I assume can only be a local.”
Logan came and stood by her.
Too close.
So close, it felt like he was looming over her, and she could smell his expensive body wash. Kate blinked rapidly and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Oh, aye?” he said. “What did they tell you, beautiful?”
He raised one hand and stroked her cheek. Kate suppressed an urge to jerk back. Instead, she laughed nervously and took a couple of steps to stand next to the tower entrance. Cold air wafted up at her. It smelled like wet earth, dust, and rocks. It was so dark, the only thing she could see was the round stairs that began a step or two below the entrance. The ruined steps led down—and she had no idea how anyone could even attempt to walk them because they were crumbled. Some of the steps were almost worn away. Others looked like free lying rocks.
“She said somewhere there is a rock that allows people to cross time. Have you heard a local legend like that?”
Logan chuckled softly. His eyes half closed, he walked to stand by her side, with the same proximity as before.
“Nae,” he said. “Havna heard anything like that. But sounds intriguing. Would you like to travel in time, darlin’?”
He reached out and cupped her jaw. Only with an effort did Kate manage to stand in place and not run from him.
“Dinna be afraid, darlin’,” he said. “You’re a bonnie woman despite your weight. You’re just like your restaurant. Need a makeover to make you really shine.”
A sharp pain pierced Kate’s stomach. So he did think she was fat and ugly. Like most people. What did he want from her?
He leaned down, clearly for a kiss.
And the thought of him on her, thinking her a charity case, thinking she needed a makeover and he was the magician who’d turn an ugly toad like her into a princess, it was too much. Bile rose in her throat. She pushed him off, but he was much sturdier than he looked. She staggered and stepped back.
Her foot caught on something and she lost her balance.
The next thing she knew, she was flying backward into the cold, ancient darkness that smelled like a tomb.
She screamed, but the air was kicked out of her lungs as she tumbled down the stairs. She hit her head, her ribs, her arms and legs. When she finally lay still, her head felt as if it would burst from pain.
“Kate! Kate!” someone cried as though from another world.
As though from behind a grave.
She didn’t know why, but she needed to get away from the voice.
Her head was killing her. It felt like a giant hammer pounded against an anvil, and the anvil was her head. The blackness surrounding her spun. She moaned and tried to stand. Nausea rose in her stomach, and she vomited violently.
“Kate!” someone called louder and closer.
No. She had no idea who called or who Kate was, but she knew she couldn’t let him get closer. She wanted to get away from both the name and the caller.
She crawled away from the voice, away from the vomit, away from the pain. But her head was about to burst like a ripe watermelon.
“Kate!”
There might have been some light behind her, she wasn’t sure because spots flashed before her eyes. She crawled ahead, having no idea where she went. She felt like a blind person in a malfunctioning helicopter, spinning out of control. She sank deeper into a reeling darkness and flashing spots and pain.
After a while, she saw something glowing blue and brown in the distance. A rock. She slowly advanced there—somewhere in the back of her psyche she knew that rock was hope. A direction. An answer.
She came to the rock and pushed herself up, wincing from the glow of a circle of blue waves with a straight brown line through it. Was there just one, or were there two or three of them? Her vision floated, doubling and tripling everything around her.
There was a handprint in the stone. As if someone reached out to her. As if someone wanted to help her. She needed help to get out of this dark, mindless world.
She put her hand in the handprint. It was icy cold and wet against her palm. Surprisingly, it calmed her, soothed her.
Help, she thought. Hope. I need hope. And she knew that it was on the other side of that handprint.
A vibration went through the rock, and a buzz went through her.
It was as though the rock lost all hardness and became something else. Like water, then thin air. She fell. Right through the
