Part 25 (1/2)
”From the men who were trying to hurt you?”
”Not hurt, Dane. Kill. They had a gun pointed at me just before I backflipped off the s.h.i.+p.”
”G.o.d's teeth!” he uttered, rubbing the back of his neck. ”Why?”
”None of your business.” He scowled. ”At least not until you admit that my story is true.” She plopped onto the bed, making little sandwiches, her 257.
stomach growling at its emptiness. A thought sud
denly occurred to her, her breath jamming in her
throat. ”You believe me?” she said around a chunk
of bread.
”I will consider you may have been on this sc.r.a.p of land.”
Her hopes soared. ”How could I not if it hasn't already been charted or inhabited? In my time, Dane, it's populated with hotels and resorts.”
When he simply stared at her, she sighed, shaking her head, focusing her attention on the food. s.h.i.+ny, blue-black hair draped over her arm as she selected a slice of fruit, then popped it in her mouth. She glanced up, grinned sheepishly, then continued to eat. She'd been waiting for him, he realized, picking up a chunk of pork and biting into it.
She s.h.i.+fted, the robe gaping to reveal those gorgeous legs, and he allowed his gaze to travel up the muscled length. She was fit and happy and her mind sound except for the occasions when she-his gaze shot to the desk where he could see the black writing instrument. A cruel warning lanced through his heart, piercing his closed mind. He recalled every instance where she'd voiced her claim of traveling through time, and then there were the dates she'd quoted, the events to come, the amazing items she produced from the gaudy satchel, her knowledge of medicine she insisted was meager, the valuable aid she'd given with her potions. Even his own pain had vanished with the taking of the white pills. Granted, she was an unusual woman, and her tales outlandish, but she was not stupid. And then there was the island. How can I ignore so much? But to 258.
travel from the future?
Her words from dinner the previous night haunted him; the commissioning of a permanent naval force. The President had discussed this possibility with him only a few months ago. 'Twas the reason Dane's s.h.i.+ps were in Caribbean waters: to protect the Colonies from the British and French that had been attacking American crafts for the past several months. Twas an effort to keep a rein on the growing commerce, and Dane's orders were to seize any threatening vessel. He toyed with the fork, watching the lamplight twinkle off the silver. What else can she tell me? he wondered. Will I soon receive orders to halt all French and British s.h.i.+ps? And if they reach the Florida coast and should raise an army? Dane conceded the possibility; England still manned forts in the Colonies, and the French owned Louisiana and Florida. Was this the makings of the French revolt? Or the seeds of a war she says will not come for another three and twenty years? How had Tess known of this brewing trouble except if 'twere history to her? he reasoned. His mind floundered until he forced himself to ask her questions.
”Tell me more, Tess?”
No answer. He glanced up to see her leaning back against the far bedpost, sound asleep, a crust of bread lying in relaxed fingers. He smiled tenderly, removing the tray and easing her down onto the mattress. She curled in a ball with a sigh. He tossed the blanket over her, then brushed the hair from her face, touching his lips to her temple. Her scent was glorious. He'd given his word, but the call of nature 259.
beckoned relief. Dane went slowly, cautiously s.h.i.+fting his legs over the side of the bed. His feet touched and, grasping the post, he stood. He felt no lightheadedness and took a step.
His foot landed on something small and cold, and he looked down, then bent slowly and picked up the s.h.i.+ny silver object.
He turned it over in his hand. ”Sweet Christ!” he whispered, goose flesh racing up his spine, the icy fingers making the hair on his neck stand on end.
260.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.
Dane stared in shock, sweat beading on his upper lip, his body trembling so violently he could scarcely control it. Embossed on the bright metal was the silhouette of his President and beneath that, a date- 1967. 1967! Nineteen. His fingers closed tightly over the coin, and he dropped his head forward. Nay. It couldn't be. He looked again, and it seemed to shout at him. Liberty! In G.o.d We Trust! United States of America! G.o.d's teeth. The future! Currency from the future!
Was he going mad? Nay. Twas impossible for her to have minted the coin herself. He turned sharply, staring at the woman sleeping in his bed and the truth he'd just begun to consider hit him like a punch to his gut. Numbly he dropped onto the mattress, knowing in his palm he held positive proof.
Tess Renfrew had traveled back two centuries.
How in G.o.d's name had she accomplished such a feat?
He remembered the night of the battle and how upset she had been, her cries of wanting to be re- 261.
turned home-to her time. Had she just realized what had happened to her then? The thought was enough to send a s.h.i.+ver up over his spine and into his scalp. The dolphin brought her, she'd claimed, through the wall. Dane's head turned slowly to the window, his memory of the storm, the curtain of black mist, so clear it was like he was seeing it for the first time. And the eerie vessel, mountainous, white, s.h.i.+fting position so quickly he'd thought himself suddenly losing his senses. Twas the Na.s.sau Queen, he realized, and prayed to G.o.d she'd left her a.s.sa.s.sins behind.
”For the sake of the lady's reputation, Duncan, leave the door ajar.”
”Aye, sir.”
”Close it, McPete,” Tess mumbled into the pillow. ”I'm awake.” She lifted her head and turned toward the sound of Dane's voice. Dane was sitting at his desk, bare feet propped on the surface. ”And you promised to stay in bed.”
He smiled as she sat up and shoved hair out of her face. ”I promised only until the morning.” Tess glanced to the window, then pushed aside the white netting and climbed from the bed, rewrapping the robe as she walked to him. He poured tea from the service sitting to his left and slid a cup toward her. She ignored it, resting her hip against the desk and checking his bandage, his pupils, and his pulse. The latter was a little fast.
”Does my state of wellness meet with your approval?”
262.
”Hardly. You should be in that bed, resting. Not doing this.” She waved at the ledgers, papers, and instruments littering the desk.
”I am fine, Tess, truly.”
She snorted. ”Then don't come crying to me when your head starts pounding like a Russian racehorse.”
He stared at her, wondering what it was like for her to discover herself thrown back into a time that could only be quite primitive.
”Why are you looking at me like that?”
His gaze never wavering, his hand slipped from the arm of the chair and came up with her yellow satchel. Her eyes widened as he dropped it onto the desk.
”Show me the future, Tess.”
Her gaze shot between the bag and him as she straightened. ”Wh-what? Ah-ah-” She swallowed, and Dane watched as tears bloomed in her eyes, brimmed, then slowly trickled down her cheeks. She trembled, and he saw the pulse at the base of her throat quicken. Slowly he slid his feet from the desk. With a strangled cry of his name, she fell into his arms. Gently he pulled her onto his lap, pressing her head to his chest. She cried, deep, heavy weeping that enveloped him, absorbed into his skin, penetrated into his bones. She struggled to control it, but then it unleashed itself in a fresh wave, and Dane felt the torment she had suffered these past weeks. Because he wouldn't believe.
”Shhh, love, cease, I beg you,” he whispered, gently rubbing her spine. ” Tis killing me, your tears.” Tess lifted her head, swiping at her cheeks.
263.
”When?” she croaked, then swallowed. ”What made you change your mind?”
He sighed, dropping his head back. ”I suspected the truth of your words when you first made mention of the islands-”