Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(63)
He turns me to face him, searching my gaze. “I don’t ever want you to feel pressured into anything.”
“I don’t. This is my decision. I want to help your family … my family and be like you. We’ve both been given second chances to make a difference, Petr, and I want us to make the world a better place together.”
He smiles, the tenderness back in his gaze, and cups my cheeks in his hands. “I love you, Claudia.”
“I love you, too.”
He kisses me lightly. “Pick you up at six.”
He leaves, his scent on my skin and the fever he causes warming my blood. I want to scream out of happiness and instead, watch him pull out of the parking lot.
“Told you so,” Eileen say from behind me. “No one comes here for the coffee and pie.”
I laugh loudly, exhilarated at the prospect of my long weekend holed up with an incredible man like Petr.
***
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If you could change history, would you?
Chapter One
Take a survey while you wait!
Only three questions!
Free $50 gift card!
Fifty dollars sounded like a lot when my bank account was close to zero.
I stepped out of the crowds of tourists strolling along the covered wooden sidewalks of Tombstone, Arizona, and paused before the table with an iPad laying next to the propped up sign. It was over a hundred and twenty degrees in the shade and even hotter in the brilliant midafternoon sun. The stores were packed. The drink sellers at each corner of the tourist district wore heavy period clothing that made me feel sorry for them, as evidenced by the collection of overpriced water bottles weighing down my purse.
The first page of the survey was pulled on the iPad’s screen, just waiting for someone to stop and fill it out.
“Why isn’t this place crowded?” No one even glanced this way. Either it was my lucky day or no one else was wondering how they were going to pay off student loans after graduating college. “My lucky day!” I placed my purse down on the table, picked up the tablet and glanced at the window of the store behind the survey.
It wasn’t a souvenir or jewelry shop or western-themed eatery like every other business lining the sidewalks of the popular tourist spot. The pictures in the window were sad – of Old West pioneers burying their dead and Native Americans being marched in chains while flanked by cavalry members on horseback. It was a stark reminder of how gritty life was back then.
Every kid who was ever forced to take an American History class knew how the Old West was won and the natives suppressed, and I had read every book about the era I was able to find when I was in high school. I wasn’t certain why this store was in the heart of a tourist trap, unless the city was trying to keep things more authentic than the Old West souvenirs made in China.
Seeing the photos made my heart hurt for the long dead people.
“Are you interested in the history of the Wild West?” asked a male voice.
I looked over, not expecting the stranger to be as stunning as he was.
He smiled. Tall, trim and sexy, with sparkling blue eyes and dark hair, he wasn’t much older than I was. Maybe the age of the Masters students in the university where I had recently graduated with my Bachelors in a field unrelated to Old West: modern languages. He had charming dimples in both cheeks that gave him a boyish appearance.
Déjà vu. I knew I’d never seen him before, but the sense we had met was strong. Never one to pass up talking to a man stunning enough to be a Hollywood A Lister, I lowered the tablet and smiled.
“I’m not really into American history anymore. I was obsessed with the Old West when I was in high school, but I grew out of it,” I answered. “I minored in European History in college.”
“So you do like history?”
“Yeah. Civilized history, I guess.”
“Civilized?” He laughed. “Tell that to Ghengis Khan when you meet him! I mean … if you meet him.” He blushed. “If you go back in time and …”
He reminded me of my youngest cousin, a super brain who was awkward around women. It didn’t seem possible this man had issues with women, though, because he was absolutely hot. The fact I resembled the perfect blond haired, blue eyed, bubbly cheerleader drew all kinds of attention from men, but none had blushed quite like this.
“It’s okay if you want to try that again,” I said, struggling not to laugh.
“Thanks.” His cheeks were almost purple with embarrassment. “I meant to say, I don’t think there’s such a thing. If we were to go back in time, I think we’d find the past anything but civilized.”