Page 24 of Borrowed Time

“What do you think all that was about?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, even as I realized my hands were shaking a little. The encounter with Samuel Wilcox must haverattled me more than I thought. “That is, my mother said Samuel had a bad temper and often clashed with his brother, so it might have only been him being annoyed that Jeremiah hadn’t told him right away that a couple of witches from the Landon clan had just arrived in town.”

“It looked like he was doing his best to intimidate us without resorting to outright threats,” Seth replied.

“Yes, pretty much,” I said. “That’s just Samuel’s style. Now that he knows Jeremiah is working with us, though, I doubt he’ll do much to interfere with what we’re doing. Or at least, that’s my hope. When we see Jeremiah tomorrow, we’ll have to ask how much Samuel knows about Eliza’s disappearance.”

Surprise flickered in Seth’s blue eyes, dimmer in the illumination from the gas fixtures, but no less clear and beautiful for all that. “Jeremiah wouldn’t have told him the truth?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “My mother obviously had no way of knowing what happened here in 1884 after she went back to her own time. But I get the feeling that Jeremiah probably wouldn’t have told Samuel the whole story. It’s pretty obvious that they don’t get along.”

“True,” Seth said. He paused there, and his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. “Well, before he appeared, I was having a nice time.”

“No regrets about the wine?” I teased, and his smile broadened.

“None at all. It was good to have with our meal.” Another hesitation, and he took a step toward me so he could reach out and take my hand. “It seems you’re correct about a lot of things, Devynn Rowe.”

While I was nowhere close to being drunk…barely even tipsy…I still couldn’t ignore the sudden flare of heat in me at his touch. The whole time during dinner, I’d kept watching himin that black frock coat and blue brocade vest, thinking how handsome he looked.

And he was even handsomer up close, like he was now.

“Some of the time,” I allowed, and his fingers tightened on mine.

“I can’t tell you how much I want to kiss you right now,” he said, voice dropping to a husky murmur.

A warm shiver went through me. “Then why don’t you?”

Those sky-colored eyes met mine. “Because I’m worried about what will happen.”

I knew he wasn’t talking about further intimacies. No, he was worried — and probably had every right to be — that the second our lips touched, we might be sent somewhere, somewhen, else, with no control over where we were going.

Even though I also didn’t know what might happen, I still tried to reassure him.

“Nothing like that happened the first time we kissed,” I pointed out, and his eyes narrowed for a second.

“I found out you were a witch.”

True enough. “I still don’t think that’s the same thing,” I said. “Yes, you sensed my witch nature, but it wasn’t as though we were both sent into the future or anything. I honestly believe that what happened after I was shot was simply because of the pain I was in, the way all my control was slipping away from me. That’s what caused us to be sent here. But I’m fully healed, and I’m not in any pain. I don’t think we need to worry about the same thing happening.”

He didn’t reply right away, but he also didn’t let go of my hand. Everything in me wanted to lean toward him, to go on my toes so I could press my lips against his, but I somehow knew that would be the wrong thing to do.

Difficult as it might be, I needed to let him decide whether he was comfortable with this, or whether he thought it far too big a risk.

But apparently he decided that risk was worth it, because he lowered his head a moment later and touched his mouth to mine.

Nothing happened. Or rather, while the delicious, tingly heat I’d experienced at the pressure of his fingers only intensified, we weren’t blinked away into an impossible future or an unimaginable past.

No, we only stood there in his hotel room, as his arms wrapped around me and pulled me tighter, and I wished with all my might that I wasn’t so encased in all those layers of fabric and boning so I might feel more of his body against mine.

And when he shifted a little, ending the kiss, I could see the wonder in his eyes.

“We didn’t travel,” he said.

“No,” I replied. “I think the next time is going to require more effort.”

Now it was my turn to reach down and wrap my fingers around his.

“We’ll just have to hope that Jeremiah can help us find the way back.”

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