“Yes, I will admit I’ve never experienced anything so pleasurable, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are from 2025, and you need to find a way back to your own time.”
What the fuck?What did that have to do with what they’d just done?
“But—”
“What we have, this incredible sexual attraction, is something we must lay to rest. We cannot do this again. I cannot lose myself again. This cannot happen.” He pinned her to the tree again, this time with his piercing gaze. “Do you understand?”
Devastating disappointment and abject humiliation filled her heart.
“Yes.” She looked him in the eye, unblinking, but what she really wanted to do was turn and run.
Though, it wouldn’t matter is she did, anyway.
He wouldn’t follow.
Chapter Forty-Seven
When Logan didn’t appear at breakfast or morning tea, Haven wondered if he was going to avoid her until she found a way home.
As the late morning ended, she came in from the garden through the doors into his study. She didn’t know why she wanted to enter through there, but she knew she couldn’t accept his rejection, not after everything they’d shared. He may have said no with his words, but his body thrusting into hers again and again had said yes.
“Good afternoon, Haven.” His deep voice sent a thrill through her. Even though she wanted to see him, she didn’t expect him to actually be there.
She forced a smile.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” She’d chosen to use his title. He wanted to keep her at a distance? Then so be it.
The trip back to the manor last night had been torture. She’d followed him from the clearing through the maze of darkness-kissed trees to where they’d left the horses. When they arrived back at the house, Millie had already taken dinner in her rooms, which was fine with Haven because she didn’t have the stomach for food or polite conversation. She’d wished Logan a goodnight, and hurried to her room where she immediately burst into tears. Thirty minutes of headache-inducing sobbing later, she dried her tears, ripped the Roma clothes from her still-sensitive body, and crawled into bed.
Hoping to God she could fight off her vivid memories long enough for her brain to enter REM, she closed her eyes. She had opened them seconds later with a curse.
Sleep eluded her, and the lack of rest was taking its toll on her spirit. She couldn’t take much more before she broke. How much more emotional damage could she endure before she cracked beneath the weight of her own fears and desires?
She didn’t know, but if she ever made it home to 2025, she’d swear off men forever.
Gathering her thoughts, she turned to exit the study the way she’d come. It had been a mistake to come, but she had to see him. Hear his voice. Smell his scent. She couldn’t explain it.
She took one last, long glance at him, and her gaze caught on something in his hands.
Curiosity reared its unwanted head, and she paused in her stride.
It was a book, and his attention was focused on its open pages.
Looking up, he seemed to remember her presence, and pulled away from whatever he’d been reading.
“Look here.” He laid the large tome on the desk, and waved her over.
What could he possibly want to show her?
She hesitated a second before hurrying to his side to peer down at the inscription he’d indicated.
“According to this book, there is an ancient Romany tale of three sister goddesses. TheTres Deae. Ahmi, Ohni, and Ooma.”
Her fear and anxiety forgotten, she exclaimed, “Ahmi! That’s the name Perez told me when he first zapped my brain with his memories. It’s the name of a goddess?”
Nowthey were getting somewhere.
“Apparently so,” he replied, reading further. “Ahmi is the ancient Romany goddess of passion and impossible love.” He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the lapels of his coat, smoothing invisible wrinkles.
