Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (158 page)

Maybe even Bob joined the chorus.

Slowly, indigo claimed the sky, the smear of
orange over the opposite rooftops fading to darkness with every
passing moment.

“
Did you get enough to eat
for dinner?” Mitch asked.

Lilith glanced to him. “Of course. Why?”

He shrugged. “Well, I didn’t know you were a
vegetarian and burgers were kind of the main deal.”

“
The salad was great,”
Lilith said graciously. “And I haven’t had french fries in a long
time.”

Mitch shook his head. “I try to keep them
infrequent around here, too.” He narrowed his eyes with mock
suspicion. “But there are subversive elements at work.”

Lilith laughed lightly, then Mitch’s gaze
suddenly sharpened. She had a distinct sense that his next words
would be important and braced herself for a tough question.

“
So, why did you become a
vegetarian?”

Lilith blinked. It was a pretty pedestrian
question to have him be so interested in her answer. “When I
pledged to that witch’s creed.”

Mitch frowned into his glass. “The ‘harm
none’ one?”

Lilith nodded and smiled. “After all,
becoming burgers isn’t a really good experience for the cow.”

“
No, I guess not.” His
expression turned thoughtful. “How do you make sure your nutrition
is adequate?”

“
It’s a different kind of
cooking, certainly, but after a while, you get used to pairing your
proteins. It’s really not hard.” Lilith sipped her sangria. “If
you’re interested in eating less meat, I can give you some
recipes.”

Mitch’s slow smile made her heart pick up
its pace. “You’ve been very helpful, you know, and very nice.”

Lilith felt herself flush. “Just being
neighborly.”

Mitch’s gaze never wavered from hers. “I
don’t see too many other neighbors offering to help with gardens or
teach vegetarian cooking…”

“
Or mend my back
door.”

Mitch chuckled. “There was a prime mover
there.”

They glanced as one to the wolfhound, the
glimmer of his eyes barely visible in the shadows. Lilith heard his
license tags jingle as he lifted his head.

“
I’d forgive and forget,
but I don’t want a repeat of what he did this afternoon,” Mitch
said softly.

“
I really don’t think it
was his fault.”

“
Either way, I don’t care
for the change.” Mitch flicked a glance to Lilith’s storm door,
just the top of it visible over the new fence, and winced. “One job
down, six million to go. I’ll measure your door tomorrow - maybe
we’ll be lucky and the hardware store will stock the
size.”

“
You don’t have to fix it
right away.”

Mitch nodded. “You can’t be without it in
this heat. You won’t have any circulation in your house. Besides,
it’s only right.”

Lilith smiled at him, not remembering this
facet of his character but liking it very much. “You’re quite
concerned with doing what’s right, aren’t you?”

Mitch seemed slightly surprised by her
question. “Well, sure. I mean, the alternative isn’t very
attractive, is it?”

Lilith laughed lightly at the truth of that.
It was so good to be sitting with him like this, just talking, just
enjoying each other’s company. “No, I suppose not.”

Mitch turned his glass in his hands and
frowned as though he was looking for the right words. “Look,
Lilith, Andrea told me that she asked you to watch the kids. It’s
nice of you to agree, but…”

Lilith straightened. “You don’t want me to
watch them?”

Mitch glanced up, his gaze bright. “I don’t
want you to feel
obligated
to do anything you don’t want to
do. I mean, you must have plans. I’m sure Andrea didn’t bother to
ask.”

Lilith shook her head. “No plans. Just
fortune-telling and I can always turn off the sign.”

“
Well, I don’t want you to
feel that you have to do this, just because you were asked.” He
smiled ruefully. “Andrea is a freight train in her own way,
sometimes. I can find someone else, or cancel my trip.”

Lilith put her hand on Mitch’s and savored
the heat of his skin beneath her own. He flicked a very gold glance
at her, then looked down at her hand upon his. “But I
don’t
mind,” Lilith insisted. She leaned slightly closer. “Although it
sounds as though you do.”

Mitch stared at her hand resting on his for
a long moment. Slowly, his turned over, as though he couldn’t stop
it from doing so, and his fingers closed warmly over her own.
Lilith’s heart skipped a beat, then another when she looked up and
found Mitch’s concerned gaze fixed on her.

It had been a long time since anyone worried
about Lilith.

“
It seems very unfair to
you,” he admitted quietly.

“
I don’t think
so.”

Mitch shook his head ruefully. “Lilith,
they’re at the age when they’re into everything. I swear that when
one goes one way, the other goes in the opposite direction just to
keep me on my toes.”

Lilith smiled. “It sounds like fun.”

Mitch looked at her with mock sternness.
“Aha, the certainty of the uninitiated.”

Lilith knew he was trying to make her laugh.
All the same, the unwitting reminder that she was without children
of her own made her smile fade to nothing. She frowned and looked
across the yard, fighting the return of that lonely ache.

Mitch eased closer, his voice low with
concern. He squeezed her fingers. “Hey, did I hit a sore point? I’m
sorry.”

Lilith forced a smile and glanced to him,
not expecting to be snared by the concern shining in his eyes. “I
always wanted kids,” she confessed quietly.

Mitch winced. “Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean
it that way. It’s really just luck of the draw, isn’t it?”

“
I think it takes a little
more than luck,” Lilith said softly.

Mitch took a sip of his drink, his gaze
assessing. Lilith had the sense that she didn’t have to tell him
she couldn’t have kids, that he already understood. He smiled wryly
and gave her fingers a little squeeze. “Fair enough, but these
things still don’t always work out according to plan.”

Lilith stared at their entangled fingers and
dared to ask the question. “Is that what happened to you?”

Mitch frowned at the garden, his thumb
slowly moving across the back of Lilith’s hand in an unconscious
caress. She didn’t say anything, just let him work through whatever
he was thinking.

From the crease in his brow, she guessed
that whatever Mitch was remembering hadn’t been pleasant.

Mitch straightened suddenly, as though he
had just realized she was waiting for an answer. He looked suddenly
down at Lilith’s hand, then carefully extracted his fingers from
hers. He folded his hands resolutely around his glass and forced a
smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“
Yes, I guess it did.” He
looked ready to change the subject, but Lilith wanted to know
more.

“
What was your
plan?”

Mitch froze for a moment, then he shrugged
with a nonchalance she knew was feigned. “Oh, I wanted all that
old-fashioned stuff. Kids and a house and a dog, summer vacations
up north and the occasional visit to Disneyland.” He seemed to be
looking for an answer in the depths of his sangria. “Cooking
together and sitting on the porch, laughing and making love for a
lifetime. All that good stuff. Nothing particularly
earth-shattering.”

When Mitch’s words halted, Lilith understood
he hadn’t found much of that in his marriage. The divorce wasn’t
his fault alone - Lilith knew it as well as she knew that Mitch
blamed himself thoroughly. It took two to tango, two to make a
marriage and two to break it.

Maybe divorce was what happened when people
weren’t destined to be together. Lilith was suddenly very glad that
she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Mitch was the man for
her. She now understood the reluctance she had already seen in him.
On some level, he recognized Lilith and couldn’t fight his
instinctive attraction. But on another, his ex-wife had left him
cautious of pursuing women and relationships.

Lilith couldn’t blame Mitch for a little
healthy caution. What she had to do was win his trust and prompt
his memory further. Just the fact that they were sitting like this
had to be a sign of progress.

Never mind that he had invited her into his
home.

Lilith deliberately guided the conversation
back to more neutral territory. “I’d really like to watch the
children that weekend. Jason and I have had a lot of fun in the
garden. They’re such sweet children…”

Mitch straightened and forced a teasing
smile. “Don’t be fooled. They’re not nearly perfect.”

Lilith smiled and nodded. “I know, I know,
but they’re good kids, Mitch. You should be proud of them. The only
thing that worried me is that Jen might be afraid.”

Mitch’s gaze clung to Lilith’s for a heady
moment, then he smiled warmly, as though he wanted to reassure her.
“Jen’s very selective with her hugs. It’s quite an honor that
you’ve already had one.” He leaned closer, his expression solemn.
“But, Lilith, are you
sure
about this?”

“
You have no idea how much
I’m looking forward to being needed,” Lilith confessed. It was
supposed to be a joke, but her breath caught tellingly. She glanced
at Mitch and knew he hadn’t missed the inadvertent sign of how much
this meant to her.

Lilith bit her lip, feeling that a little
more explanation was necessary. She tried to keep her tone light.
“You know, I’ve been alone for so long. Five and a half centuries.
Even D’Artagnan doesn’t need me - if I forgot to feed him, he’d
just go somewhere else to bum a meal.”

The silence stretched between them, although
Lilith wasn’t sure what exactly prompted Mitch’s quiet. She
wondered whether she had spoiled the mood by confessing a
vulnerability and wished she could take the words back.

Then Mitch leaned closer, his eyes gleaming.
“Hey,” he said quietly, the thread of humor in his voice telling
Lilith that he was going to try to make her smile.

Her heart warmed at the sign of his
concern.

“
Are you trying to give me
a run for my money on this worrying front?” Mitch winked. “You
ought to know that you’re taking on a champ.”

It worked.

Lilith grinned. “I know.” Mitch was a
champion and in more ways than he even guessed. And he would be
hers for all eternity.

The very thought made Lilith’s smile
broaden.

Mitch eyed the pitcher. “Do you want some
more of this sangria? It’s a pretty wicked batch, if I do say so
myself.”

Lilith chuckled. “A regular witch’s
brew.”

Mitch joined her laughter. “Takes one to
know one?”

Lilith nodded, then sobered. “I’ll take good
care of them.”

Mitch frowned. His gaze flicked away, then
met Lilith’s again. “Yes, I know,” he said quietly, as though
surprised by his own conviction in that. He studied Lilith’s
features as though he sought the key to some puzzle there, then
reached for the pitcher.

“
This stuff just seems to
evaporate,” he murmured with a wink, then topped up their
glasses.

“
It’s very, very warm
tonight,” Lilith concurred solemnly.

“
So, why don’t you prompt
my memory a bit? Mitch said with a casualness that didn’t quite
ring true. He flicked an intent glance Lilith’s way. “Why don’t you
tell me how we met?”

Lilith felt a little surge of
disappointment. “You still don’t remember?”

Mitch looked away. “Not enough.”

Clearly he was embarrassed by his own
inability to recall all the important details. But Lilith was more
than happy to help this man remember.

She wrapped her arms around her knees. In
her mind’s eye, the events of all those centuries ago were as clear
as if they had only just occurred.

Maybe if she gave her memories voice, a word
or an image would prompt Mitch’s memory. And there was no reason to
keep all her secrets safely locked away any longer. Mitch was her
love returned to her; Mitch she could trust with her life and her
history.

“
I was born among the
Rom
,” Lilith began softly, well aware of how intently Mitch
listened. “That’s what we called ourselves. Others called us
Egyptians – later shortened to “Gypsies” – although we never came
from Egypt, as far as I knew. We did travel constantly, spending a
month here and another there. We were entertainers,
fortune-tellers, acrobats, as well as merchants of gold and horses
and baskets woven by our men folk.”

“
So you are a Gypsy. That’s
what Andrea said.”

“
I was
Rom
,” Lilith
corrected firmly.

“
Not anymore?”

Again Lilith found the denial didn’t come
easily to her lips, so she just shook her head. “But I’ll get to
that. It was the spring of 1420 – although I knew nothing of dates
in those days – when we came to a village in what is now northern
Italy. It was there, in the twilight of a spring evening, that I
first glimpsed the man who would hold my heart for all time.”

Lilith bit back her smile of recollection.
“He was unlike any man I had ever seen before, his hair not black
but the shade of ripe chestnuts, his eyes not dark but as fiery as
the sun. And in that twilight, he was chopping wood in the forest
near where we made our camp. He heard me running – a remarkable
thing for a
gadgo
– “

“
A what?”

“
Gadjo
. A man not of
the
Rom
,” Lilith explained softly. “It is said that the Rom
move as silently as the wind through the grass, and I was held to
be more quiet than most.” She shook her head, still marveling at
the truth of it. “But he heard me.”