Silent Vows (MacCoinnich Time Travel Trilogy 2) - Page 9/69

“If you want me to leave I will. But I can tell you no more. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. You wouldn’t understand.” Her eyes leveled with his, challenging him. He kept her gaze for a full minute before he pushed his plate aside, no longer interested in eating. “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

Myra followed him. “The bathroom’s down the hall. If you need anything let me know.” He watched her set her bag on the bed. “I’m just down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

You can thank me by trusting me. He wanted to scream, but didn’t. Instead, he wished her goodnight and walked away.

Before he made it to his room, he heard her whisper, “I’ve already told you too much.” He stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the door to her room. It had been a long night, one he wouldn’t soon forget. Maybe he could get her to open up more tomorrow.

Leaving his door slightly open, he listened to her movements. He heard the soft click of her door and the creak of the bed as it gave under her weight.

Now what the hell am I going to do?

Myra woke early and lingered in the hot shower she was quickly growing to love. The endless supply of hot water washed away her trepidations. She had slept better than in the hospital. In fact, she’d rested more than she had in weeks.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she ran a finger over the fading circles beneath her eyes. She had been so nervous about her journey into the future she hadn’t slept for weeks prior to the trip.

There were so many things Tara had prepared her for, and so many she hadn’t. Her wait for Lizzy was unexpected. Pulling a brush through her hair, she thought of the men who attacked her. They scared her more than she wanted to admit. The harsh reality of life without her family crushed down on her in those moments in the alley.

Yet the family was right in sending her to the future. Grainna needed a Druid virgin to break her curse and would have done everything within her power to capture Myra, and kill her.

She was on her own.

Except for maybe Officer Todd Blakely, who had acted as gallant as any knight. More so when she realized they shared a home for a full night and never once did she feel her virtue threatened.

Todd Blakely was no ordinary man. He knew she lied and still helped her, asking nothing in return. Well, perhaps a few answers, but that was all. I’ll make it up to him, she vowed silently.

After dressing in the only change of clothes she brought, she cleaned the clothes worn the previous day and placed them above the shower to dry before leaving the bathroom in search of food and Todd.

Todd stood in the kitchen making coffee. Closing her eyes, Myra savored the rich aroma. She was beginning to love coffee. No wonder Tara put it on the list of things to bring back with her when she went home.

Todd moved slowly, his eyes half open, appearing as if he had just stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen. His bare muscular chest narrowed to lean hips covered by a pair of baggy cotton pants made her instantly aware of the man. She’d seen knights remove their shirts on occasion after an intense battle or during heavy training, but Todd?

Todd’s ease with his nudity had her swallowing saliva down a dry throat. She licked her lips and prayed he wouldn’t notice her unease.

Watching from lowered lashes, Todd took in her bare feet and wet hair. God she was beautiful. Fresh. He tried not to stare, but her face was a magnet. His body reacted recklessly, just like his mind had done the night before.

He hadn’t slept well with her in the next room.

It wasn’t until the predawn hours that his lids finally shut. Now, he hovered over the coffee pot wishing the machine would move faster. He needed something to do with his hands other than picturing them on her.

“Good morning,” she offered.

“You look rested.”

“I am, thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Your home is very quiet.”

“Humm...coffee?” he asked when the pot was half full.

“Oh, yes, please. I just love your coffee here.”

She took the cup.

“They don’t have coffee in Scotland?”

“Nothing like this I’m afraid.” She smiled over the rim and pulled in the scent, savoring it.

“I thought Folgers was everywhere.”

Myra sent a coy smile, but didn’t add anything.

He moved around the kitchen, completely aware of her stare. His baggy sweat pants and full day and night’s growth of beard had him squirming under her gaze. What was she thinking?

“Are you working today?”

“No. I go in tomorrow.” He handed her a bowl of cereal and watched as she took her first bite.

Surprise lit her face as she started to chew. “Don’t tell me you don’t have cereal in Scotland either?”

“I just can’t get over how different everything tastes.” She told him truthfully.

“Even cereal?”

Chewing, she avoided his question.

They ate in silence. Her peculiar behavior was laced with lies, but Todd wasn’t awake enough to play verbal roulette.

She was going to answer some questions today, he told himself. He would give her time to tie her tongue in knots, then pounce and get what he needed. If her silence were any indication of her wavering will to remain untruthful, then it wouldn’t take long to crack her open.

“Do you know of an antique dealer near by?” she asked, catching Todd off guard.

“Antique dealer?”

“Aye.”

“Not personally, but I’m sure there are a few.

Why?”

“I have something that might be worth a bit of coin to sell. To help pay my way.”

Interesting choice of words and it wasn’t just the singing way she spoke. “What is it?” And is it stolen?

“I’ll go get them.” She left and returned with two objects covered in a cloth. She unwrapped an elegant pair of candlesticks.

He knew nothing about antiques. The ornately carved objects in front of him were beautiful, but he had no other appreciation for them than that. The jeweled bases were flashy and he imagined that if the stones were real they would be worth a lot of money. “Are they old?”

“Oh, yes. My family has owned them for many years.” She gazed at them with loss.

“And they don’t want them anymore?”

“My need to sell them outweighs the need to own them.”

He picked one of them up. It was heavier than it looked. “This family of yours agrees with you?”

“Yes, they’re the ones who told me to take them with me.” She watched him examine her family heirloom. “They’re not stolen, if that is what you’re thinking.”