Maybe it was better to just play along for now. At least until she had a handle on what was going on. If she went along, faked her way through, she could work her way out. “Yes,” she lowered her eyes and tried to appear repentant. Ian helped her to the settee next to Dory but Emmy found she could do little more than stare at the man across from her.
Emmy slouched back with her arms crossed and considered her choices and him. What to say. What to do? Play along, she thought. But he hates his wife, a part of her mind argued. Emmy did not want him looking at her with hatred. No, there were other emotions she wanted to see in his eyes. The realization startled her.
“Heather, please sit up. Your posture is most atrocious,” the lady Dorcas chided handing her another cup of tea. “Here. This will make you feel just the thing.”
Again Emmy found herself staring down into another cup of tea with some disgust. “Could I get a large glass full of ice, please?” she asked Dorcas. Though her eyes showed curiosity, the woman nodded to a footman standing near the door who left the room immediately to do her bidding. Emmy swirled the cup idly as she waited for him to return staring down steadily into the liquid and making no move to look at or speak to any of the other three occupants of the room.
What to say? What to do? Questions again raged through her mind, but no alternatives presented themselves. She was in another time! Unbelievable! Things like this just did not happen to normal people, to anyone for that matter unless the government had come up with some portal through time and were covering it up? That had happened before, well not with time travel specifically, but it had happened in other scientific arenas. Wasn’t there some fuss in the 1950s though about some ship that was in Philadelphia and disappeared only to show up in Norfolk just moments later? Something like that? She couldn’t remember. But there were always all kinds of stories about government cover-ups and conspiracies. That could be the answer.
If it was something of that nature, would they reverse it? Could they? How widespread was it? Were there others here like her? Others stuck in other times having this same discussion in their heads? Perhaps, but what to do until she knew for sure? She most emphatically did not want to burn as a witch or something equally repellent.
The footman’s prompt return brought Emmy out of her reverie as he held out a small tray with a glass to her. Nodding and whispering her thanks, Emmy took the glass and carefully poured the hot tea into it unaware of the bewildered stares she was receiving from the others. Then she took a few extra minutes to dig around her tote for some Sweet & Low.
Connor watched intrigued as she slapped the little pink packets against her hand before tearing them open and shaking the powdered contents into her drink. He wondered what it was. Her forefinger followed it into the glass where she stirred it for a moment before popping her finger in her mouth to suck off the excess liquid. That small action changed the course of his thoughts entirely. It was the most innocently erotic action he had ever seen a woman perform. The images that came to his mind aroused him unexpectantly. Stifling the arousal without mercy, he embraced his anger and broke the silence.
“Well, Heather,” Connor prompted harshly aware that she wasn’t going to willingly begin on her own.
“Okay,” Emmy looked up and met his dark gaze once more feeling its pull like a whirlpool tugging her under the water. “Well, I returned here because I wanted to...” She stared into his stormy eyes and felt the attraction between them, the chemistry and knew that he had felt it too. It was strong and intense, unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was a reaction like you read about but are sure never actually happens in real life. So, the words, when they came, seemed to be the most truthful she had ever spoken in her life.
“I came here to be with you.”
Chapter 5
Duart Castle
The Isle of Mull, Scotland
October 1895
Emmy didn’t even flinch as the door slammed shut behind Connor as he stormed out of the room following her remark. She was stunned as well by her answer. Yet it felt right. The minute she had seen him – before she realized he was simply mad, that is – her first thoughts had been of wishing for a man like that for her own. This was the feeling of romance novels and fairy tales, well adult fairy tales. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t typical, normal or usual.
In one of her favorite romantic comedies, French Kiss, when Meg Ryan’s Kate and Kevin Kline’s Luc finally kiss at the end, there is this moment when his hands clench into fists on the back of her dress as if he couldn’t hold her tight enough, close enough or long enough.
In Emmy’s mind that moment was probably one of the most romantic, passionate kisses she had ever seen. Definitely top ten. She wanted to be wanted like that. She wanted to be in the arms of a man where an embrace wasn’t enough, where he wanted so much more from her. Emmy wanted a man who would hold her as if he wanted to become one with her. Be one with her. She had always dreamed of being wanted with that intensity.
Yet, if she were honest with herself, Emmy would have admitted that she never expected that she would feel like that in her entire life. Most certainly,
