“What do you mean?” Haven stammered.
The footman brought a plate of steaming eggs and ham, but despite the mouth-watering scents, it didn't appeal.
Her stomach was tied in knots.
“You look as though you’ve spent the night staring into the ceiling. Your eyes are red, and you don’t look your usual self, my dear.” Millie’s look of concern nearly undid her.
She stopped short of sobbing into her coddled eggs. “I had a long night. I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”
“What kept you awake? Are you worried about getting home?”
“Yes.” The coffee tasted like tar mixed with ass extract, but she drank it anyway.
Yes, she worried about never seeing her friends again, but those worries weren’t holding her mind, body, and heart captive. She’d experienced the most intimate and blazing-hot sex she’d ever known, and it scared her to death.
Millie laid aside her fork, and sat forward in her chair. She had a sympathetic look on her darling face.
“While I know nothing of time travel or the magic needed to achieve such a miracle, I can imagine how you must feel to be so far from everything you know and love. I cannot promise you’ll get home, dear, but I can promise that while you’re here, you’ll have a friend and a safe place to stay—no matter how long you need it.”
Tears sprang to Haven’s eyes.
“Thank you, Millie. You’re like the aunt I always wanted, but never had.”
“I like you, Haven, and I don’t like many people. Just ask my oldest friends. They’re my oldest friends because I don’t have any new ones.”
Haven smiled, glad of the company and the uplifting chatter.
Even though the food tasted like cardboard, she dug in anyway, determined to act like her life wasn’t spinning toward chaos.
Millie motioned for the footman to take her plate, and sat back in her chair.
“Have you made any progress in your search for answers?”
Haven swallowed the pasteboard ham, and replied, “Well, I did have an interesting encounter with the watch. Apparently, there’s a soul trapped inside, and it reached out and showed me a few jumbled images.” More like a frantic onslaught of pictures and other sensory data. “I didn’t get any concrete information, but I did snatch a clue from the mess.”
“Oh?” Millie’s eyes twinkled with interest.
“The name Ahmi.” At Millie’s puzzled look she continued, “I’ve never heard it before, but at least it’s something.”
“Do you know where to find more information?”
She nodded. “During the migraine inducing information upload, I saw a few images that made me think of the Rom.” One image showed a gorgeous, tall, dark man striding through a camp filled with dark eyes, and colorfully dressed people. She made assumptions based on stereotypes, but what other group of people lived in wagons and tents, and dressed in that particular fashion?
“That’s someplace to start. Why not ask them if they have any information?” Rising from her seat, Millie came to stand beside her. “Why don't you ask Logan to take you to their camp?”
Logan?She swallowed. “That’s right. He did say he visited them a few weeks ago. Are they still around?” Maybe she could find them on her own.
“I believe so. The only way to know for sure is to ask him.”
“Ask who what?” Logan’s deep voice thrilled through her, setting her pulse racing.
Stepping into the room, he avoided direct eye contact with her, but nodded to his aunt.
“Good morning, Aunt Mildred. I hope you’re well this morning, not too exhausted from last night’s diversions.”
Last night’s diversions....
Haven shuddered.
