Time for Love (4 page)

Alex doubled over, clutching her stomach. She tried to suck in her breath but couldn’t. Fire ripped down her limbs. She refused to look at her hands; afraid her nails had peeled back.

The damp ground pressed against her forehead, and she could breathe again. She scraped her cheek trying to reassure herself her skin hadn’t been stripped from her body and found she lay on the cave floor—skin and nails intact.

Only it wasn’t the same cave.

She could distinguish her immediate surroundings from the weak light of her lantern. She was damn lucky it hadn’t gone out. As it was, it lay against a boulder in danger of tipping over. Hand trembling, she reached out and set it right. The last thing she needed was to stumble around in a pitch-black cave.

The slight shimmer of the portal got her moving forward to put some distance between them.
How would she ever have the nerve to go back through that thing?

Sawyer was gone, and she used every curse she could think of as she stood and dusted herself off.
A little disorienting, huh!
Even though the pain was gone, the thought of it made her sick. She kept herself from retching by sheer force of will.

Alex closed her eyes and took a deep breath, bursting into a fit of coughing when she sucked in a lungful of dust. When her coughing stilled, she took another cautious breath and counted to ten, then one hundred. She held the lantern aloft and looked around, stifling the feeling of being entombed within the cold, damp earth. She wrinkled her nose to suppress the sneeze building from the combined smell of dust and mildew.

Obviously, Griffin, International had done a bit of work to make it a more suitable atmosphere for their experiment. The cave in the future had an even floor and steel beams reinforcing a ceiling covered with fluorescent lights. This rough, small cave had an uneven floor that tilted and curved in all directions. Rocks jutted out from the wall, and water dripped along a jagged seam at the top of the passage. An ice-cold drop plopped onto her cheek and she shivered, hunching her shoulders under the coarse fabric of her coat.

She wiped her hands over her legs to remove the tiny pebbles lodged in her palms, then sucked on a knuckle scraped raw in the fall. She held the lantern high and looked for the way out. One path led away from the portal, so she made sure she had everything and headed out.

About half an hour passed before she made her way to the surface. The climb wasn’t that steep, and she managed with little difficulty, though it was slow going. With such weak light, she inched along to avoid tripping over the rocks that jutted into her path or bashing her head against the stalactites that dropped out of nowhere in her way.

At long last, a hint of light filtered through a large bush covering most of the entrance. A few minutes later, she found a space to crawl through, but it wasn’t easy. Her clothes and hair snagged on branches, and she had to be careful not to rip anything. She used her knife to cut through the worst of the branches, but it took her almost as long to work through the mess as it had to get there.

She finally forced her way through and reached for her water, taking a long fortifying gulp before taking stock. A quick glance down revealed her clothing didn’t appear to be much better off than her hands. Dirt covered every inch she could see. She untangled some of the snags in her hair as she pulled out bits of leaf and twigs.

So much for first impressions
. She would have to find a place to wash before she met with any of the ship captains. She was to follow a stream to the town. She would try to clean herself up a bit when she found it.

If she found it.

****

That night, Alex stood outside
The Troubled Tavern
for a long while, listening to the familiar sounds of a bar at happy hour and working up the courage to enter.

Inside, the first mate of a ship named
The Reliant
was hiring sailors for their trip to London leaving the next day. They didn’t take passengers, but she was determined to sail on that boat. Another wouldn’t leave for London for a few weeks, and she didn’t have that much time. She’d read the trip took about a month, more for bad weather, and the article was dated less than two months from now. She might not arrive in time if she waited.

A scuffling sound came from a dark alley that ran along the side of the building.
Rats?
From this angle, she could only see a few feet in, though the smell seemed to have no trouble making its way to the street. She suppressed her gag at the stench, but the thought of what scurried around in the dark made her shudder. A flash of movement too high to have been anything creepy crawly and a quickly muffled woman’s scream had her moving toward the sound before she had time to think better of what she was about to do.

“Hey!” Alex shouted as she rushed to the mouth of the alley.

Three figures struggled in the dark but came to a surprised halt at her shout. A skinny, rugged-looking man grasped a woman from behind with one arm about her throat and one hand covering her mouth, cutting off her screams. A shaft of light fell across their faces as they stared at her. Terror shined through the woman’s huge eyes. She resumed her struggles to break free of the man’s grasp, and he gave a grunt of effort.

A second man dropped his hold on the girl’s long skirts and turned to face Alex. A knife glittered in his hand, and Alex swallowed down her fear to face him. “Let her go.”

He didn’t respond, simply gestured with his knife for Alex to come to him.

She looked toward the pub door, but the revelry from within was too loud. No one inside would hear a scream for help. She wiped sweaty palms against her pant legs and stepped forward, making sure to stay within sight of the pub’s entrance. Surely someone would come out soon. Stalling was her best option. Even her black belt in karate wasn’t enough to take on two armed men. She needed help.

“I believe the lad told you to unhand the woman.”

Alex jumped and whirled toward the deep voice behind her. Relief warred with disconcertion that she hadn’t heard the man’s approach.

Despite the danger of her situation, she couldn’t help but stare at his powerfully-built broad shoulders, muscular chest, and strong limbs. She guessed him to be about six foot two, and he didn’t look to have an ounce of fat on him. His loose white shirt was open at the neck with a scarf of some kind crumpled to each side as if just recently untied from around his neck. Wavy, jet-black hair tangled about his shoulders. A breeze blew the long strands across his face, and he pushed them back.

She bit back a gasp as he lowered his hands, revealing a face that sent a jolt through her and set her heart racing. Half his face lay in shadow, and the dark hid the color of his eyes, but she was left with an impression of strength. A square jaw, slightly crooked nose, and high cheekbones fit together so well she had the insane desire to run her fingers along his jaw and cover his firm, sensual lips with hers. A vaguely triangular, jagged scar ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth and down to his jaw. The skin inside the triangle was rough and reddened.

The way his mouth tilted up slightly, as if in amusement, amplified the fierceness of his face. Not the emotion she would expect given the seriousness of the situation. She thought to see tension in his face, but he appeared completely relaxed, even pleased. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, and she got the impression he relished the idea of a fight. He brought his hands to his hips, resting one on the hilt of a wicked looking knife tucked at his waist. The threat couldn’t have been more clear.

Alex tore her fascinated gaze away to look back down the alley at the girl who continued to struggle against her captors. Both men appeared to have dismissed her completely from their thoughts and focused on what was clearly the bigger threat to their fun.

The knife had disappeared, and the creep held his hands out in a placating gesture. “This ain’t your fight. We’re just havin’ ourselves a little fun.”

The savior nodded toward the struggling woman. “She does not appear to be having fun, and I have decided to make this my fight. Unhand her.” He strolled forward, past Alex and into the alley. As he drew closer to the two men, he towered over them, forcing them to tilt their heads back to keep his face in view. They looked at each other and, as if of one mind, turned and fled down the alley, pushing the girl into her savior’s arms, effectively preventing him from giving chase.

Alex rushed forward and helped the girl stand on her own, disentangling the two strangers. “Are you hurt?” she asked once the girl seemed steady.

The girl pressed one hand to her forehead, the other to her heart and closed her eyes. “I shall be fine. I simply need a moment to recover my breath.”

“Right.” Alex turned away to give the girl a chance to recover without being stared at. “Thanks,” she said to the man. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you came along. I was about to get my a—” She had to watch her mouth, or she’d get herself in a load of trouble. “Ah, I was about to be beaten rather soundly. I don’t think I could have handled both of them.”

He raised his brows and stared down at her, a strange smile twisting his mouth. “Yet you would have attempted to ‘handle them’ regardless?”

Alex shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, I was hoping to stall them. I figured someone would come out of the pub sooner or later. Anyway. Thanks.” She held out her hand. “I’m Alex. Alex Turner.”

Her hand looked tiny engulfed in his firm, yet gentle, grip. He didn’t try to crush her hand as so many men did who felt a handshake was a test of power. The calluses that lined his palm were enough to tell her he was a man of strength, though that was obvious enough just by looking at him, which she had to stop soon or risk unmasking herself. Acting like a boy was new to her, but she was pretty sure they didn’t drool over handsome men.

His touch somehow calmed her, and the fear that had threatened to choke her only moments ago began to recede. She tried not to think about the impression she was giving him with her sweaty grip, while his was, or had been, perfectly dry.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Turner.” He bowed slightly and released her hand. “I am,” he hesitated slightly, “Nicholas Somerville.”

She felt the loss of warmth all along her body and stuffed her hands in her pockets. She rocked back on her heels, uncertain what to say next. What do you say to a man who just chased off two would-be rapists? She cleared her throat and turned back to check on the girl, and tensed up immediately when she got a good look at her face.

Her eyes were huge in her pale, thin face as she stared beyond Alex. The terror she’d attempted to stifle had returned, and she backed up against the wall.

“What?” Alex whipped around to check the alley and was surprised to find it empty. From the look on the girl’s face, she’d assumed her attackers were sneaking up behind them. She turned back to the cowering girl, wrinkling her brow in confusion.

“I believe her relief at being rescued was short-lived,” Nicholas said contemptuously. His lips tightened, and Alex could practically hear his teeth grinding. Alex’s confusion must have shown because Nicholas flicked his fingers to indicate the scar on his face. “I apparently do not meet the requirements of an appropriately dashing hero.”

“Seriously?” Alex exclaimed to the stupid girl. “He just saved you, and you’re afraid of him?”

The girl turned her frightened gaze on Alex. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

Alex jerked in surprise at being addressed as a man, disconcerted that she’d forgotten her disguise for even a moment. She couldn’t afford to be careless.

“I did not mean any disrespect to the…” She hesitated slightly before continuing, “…gentleman.” She bobbed a curtsey and looked steadfastly at the ground.

“What, precisely, are you doing in this alley at this time of night?” Nicholas asked.

The girl kept her eyes downcast as she answered, “I was separated from my escort and seem to have lost my way.”

Nicholas raised his brows. “You certainly have.” He sighed. “I suppose there is no help for it. Wait here, and I will summon a hack to carry you home.” He turned to Alex. “Will you remain with her a moment until I return? She should not be left alone in this part of the city. I shall not be far and will return in an instant if I hear your call.”

Alex nodded, and Nicholas strode off into the night. She watched him leave, wishing his coat were a little shorter so she could get a good look at his ass. She blushed and cursed to herself when she realized what she was doing. She really had to be more careful, or she’d blow her disguise before she’d even been here a full day.

She turned back to the girl, who also stared after Nicholas, though Alex suspected their thoughts were nothing alike.

The poor thing was a mess, fidgeting with her clothing, trying to get herself back together. Half her hair hung in a mess of curls with hairpins clinging in random spots while the other half pulled back in what had probably been a rather intricate chignon earlier in the day. Dirt smattered the hem of her delicate blue and green flowered gown.

Alex felt a spurt of rage at the way the fabric was a wrinkled mess where one of the men had gathered it in his hand to pull the skirt up to the girl’s waist. If Nicholas hadn’t come along when he did! She didn’t want to think of it.

She bent to pick up a dainty, jeweled comb from the ground at her feet and brushed dirt from its teeth. “Are you good?” She stopped fiddling with the comb and concentrated on the girl.

“I do not know.” When she turned to face Alex, tears glittered in her eyes. “It will be terribly difficult to arrive home in a hired carriage without notice. I do not have sufficient funds to pay and shall be required to request the money from my parents. They will be cross with me for leaving the house at this hour.” Her high-pitched voice and fast rate of speech made it difficult to follow her. She reclaimed her comb and began pulling pins from her hair. “Oh dear. I must look dreadful. I cannot allow myself to be seen in such a state. My parents shall think the worst.”