God, Haven was seductive and dangerous in her power over him. Her lips were full, sweet, and addicting. One taste and he was ready to ignore all social and moral laws, and pin her against the wall, bunch her dress around her waist, put his tongue on her nipples, and his hard cock in her pussy. Her kiss alone incited much passion. What would have happened if he had gazed upon her bare full breasts, or touched the warmth of her sex? He would have been lost, and he might not have cared.
Exhausted, physically and mentally, from the emotional tide he’d ridden, he was more than ready to retire for the evening. Despite his fatigue, he knew restful sleep would elude him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and longed for peace. Maybe the dream wouldn't come. Maybe the woman in the dream wouldn't entice him beyond all reason, and maybe he wouldn't wake with a raging cock and sweat-soaked bedclothes.
He made his way to the hallway leading to his large, empty room, trying to forget that it was only five doors down from Haven, her hot mouth, and mindless bliss.
She was an enigma. Nothing about her made sense, and dear God he needed it to, though he did love a good puzzle.
He stopped short of smiling.
Notthispuzzle. She was a beautiful woman; she couldn't be trusted. Even with that knowledge weighing on his mind, it took everything in him to pass her door without stopping. If hedid, nothing on earth would keep him from finishing what he'd begun in the parlor.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tick tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Time was running out. He'd done all he could for now. It was up to her to move forward and take the routes necessary to save them both.
Drifting from the vessel, the spirit of the watch hovered over the tense but lovely face of the woman in the bed.
Soon.
Soon, his plan would come to fruition. Soon his task would be complete. Soon he would be one-step closer to freedom—from the watch, and the enchantment binding him. Gathering together bits of his dwindling power, he acted.
“Wake up....”A tickling, now familiar disembodied voice woke Haven with a warm, intimate whisper against her ear. Startled, she sat up.
“Dammit,” she exclaimed, and glared at the watch on the floor.
She’d spent the night curled into a tight ball on her bed, as far away as she could get without crawling into a wall crevice like a rat.
Once her courage had reached a sufficient level, she slunk to the armoire.
Looking down at the watch, she said, “You brought me here, you can take me home. I just need to figure out how you work.”
With a heaping helping of bravado, and a smidgen of caution, she picked it up.
Before tucking it into the cup of her bra, which she’d put on under her Regency clothing, she hesitated a moment to consider where it would nestle.
“If you vibrate or start talking to me, I am going to toss you into the nearest body of water. Got it?” Despite her outburst, she was grateful it didn’t respond.
Strangely energized, she summoned Roselyn with the pull of the bell, and made a mental note to find a more secure and less intimate place to hide the watch.
She spent a long day walking and chatting with Millie as she bustled about preparing for the dinner party. When the clock neared the dinner hour, Haven sat at the dressing table in her room, and Roselyn set to work transforming her array of curling hair into a work of art. With a few skilled tugs and tucks, Roselyn hid the scar developing over Haven’s eyebrow.
Haven was nervous, and a little petrified, about meeting more people from 1817, but also excited. How many twenty-first century women could sit and chat with living, breathing men and women from Regency England? She'd wager she was the only one.
“There you go, miss, all finished.” Roselyn's soft voice broke through Haven's reverie.
Standing, she walked to the full-length mirror, and gasped.
“This isn'tme. I can't believe it.” She blinked a few times to make sure the vision was real. In the mirror was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. Wearing a deep green off-the-shoulder gown, she was mesmerized by the transformation—from bedraggled heathen to resplendent goddess.
A knock on the door heralded Millie’s arrival. The older woman smiled brightly when she saw her.
