Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(33)

To demonstrate, she reached up, tugged on a ringlet until it straightened, then let it bounce back into place.

He frowned. “You have beautiful hair. Why would you wish to straighten it?”

“Because straight is in. Straight is sleek. Straight is sexy. Straight is sophisticated.” She wrinkled her nose. “Curly is cute.”

He fingered one of the thick curls that rested upon her shoulder. “You truly dislike your hair?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe it.

Her pulse picked up. “Yes.”

“’Tis soft,” he murmured, his voice deep and hushed. “And radiant. See how it captures the light of the fire?”

Her throat closed up, silencing any self-derisive protest she might have made. As she watched, mesmerized, the brown lock twined itself around his long, tanned finger like the limbs of a lover.

“It coils itself around me, caressing me and making me your willing prisoner.” Seizing a larger section of hair, enough to fill his callused palm, he brought it to his face, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “And so fragrant. The perfume of some flower I cannot name. Mayhap one of those that defies winter itself and blooms ere spring is even full upon us.”

Sighing, he returned the curls to her shoulder as if he had not just enthralled her with his words.

Beth stared at him.

Who are you? she wanted to ask, her heart thudding loudly in her breast. And are you really the man you appear to be? Her gaze fell to his lips. The kind I would just about beg to have wrap his arms around me and kiss me?



“Beth?”

She blinked. Where had that thought come from? “What? Oh.” Had he asked her a question while she had been mentally drooling over him? “I, uh, think I’d better go show the guys how to put my tent together. I’m about ready to call it a night.”

Shrugging out of the blankets, she stood, lifted the hem of his tunic so she wouldn’t trip again, and practically ran to the other side of the fire.

One day. She had known Robert for one tumultuous day. Half a day really, if that much.

All things considered, she couldn’t possibly be falling for him.

Could she?





Hours later, Beth curled up beneath the pile of blankets the men had all volunteered and tried to sleep within the dubious safety of her tent. Once she had retrieved the instructions and begun barking out orders, the men had swiftly erected the small structure. Then they had once more behaved as though they had never seen such a thing and had all insisted upon crawling around inside it, inspecting it.

The tent was small, about six feet by five feet with a domed ceiling and two arched windows. Each window was comprised of mosquito netting on the outside and nylon (or at least if felt like nylon) on the inside that could be unzipped to let a breeze through.

Of course, all four men had been eager to zip and unzip them. It was a wonder she had been able to make them pause long enough to remove their boots so they wouldn’t track in too much dirt before they clambered around inside.

Beth just couldn’t get over their childlike fascination with zippers and Velcro and the rest of her belongings. It was annoying, amusing and confusing all at once because, again, the more time she spent with them, the more she began to believe they weren’t faking it.

A breeze rattled the tent. Shivering despite the protection of its walls, she burrowed deeper under the blankets.

It just didn’t make any sense. Not where she was, whom she was with, or even the fact that she had lived through that violent confrontation with Kingsley and Vergoma.

Had Josh survived, too?

She could only pray that he had. And that tomorrow would bring her the answers she so desperately needed.

Her limbs trembling from the unseasonable cold, Beth sighed and gradually let the world around her fade away.





“Bethany?”

“Hmm?”

“Beth,” someone whispered.

“Answer the door, Josh,” she grumbled, snuggling deeper into the blankets. Hadn’t he heard the doorbell?

“Beth,” the deep voice called again, this time laced with amusement.

Sleep receded. Her eyes flew open. “What?” Shoving disordered curls out of her face, Beth rolled onto her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows, and reached out to unzip the window in front of her.

The nylon fell away, revealing Robert, propped on his elbows just on the other side. Golden light from the fire lit half of his handsome face and left the other half in darkness.

She glanced over his shoulder.

The other three warriors appeared to be sleeping soundly.

“What is it?” she whispered. “Did you hear something?”

He nodded. “You were talking in your sleep. I feared you might be—”

“I talk in my sleep?” she interrupted, surprised.

“Aye.”

“Really?”



“Aye.”

She’d had no idea. But then, how would she? She had never had a lover who would tell her that she did, or that she hogged the covers, or… “I don’t snore, too, do I?”

His lips twitched. “Like a warrior.”

“I do?” she squeaked.

He laughed. “Nay, Beth. I jest. But you do talk in your sleep.”

Scowling, she thumped the netting in front of his nose, barely missing it. “What did I say?” Hopefully nothing embarrassing.