Page 50 of Stay with Me

His work investigating crimes wasn’t so different from hers. In fact, since starting at ABI, she hadn’t done anything quite as noble as Nicholas, except for her case with Harrison. She’d always dreamed that she would fight crime and injustice. But the majority of her cases as a private investigator had to do with disgruntled husbands or wives trying to uncover evidence to use against their spouses in divorce court.

Maybe when she returned to the present, she’d apply for a new job—something that made a true difference, something likeNicholas was doing in defending the innocent. In fact, what if she could help him while she was in the past?

As if sensing her intense question, he tilted his head just a little, enough that she was in his line of vision. His dark gaze collided with hers, and for the first time all night she could feel his desire. It shot straight through her, embedding deep, loosening longing inside her and spilling it through her body.

As though sensing his effect upon her, his lips cocked up on one side.

She dragged her attention to the table and the women. But she could no longer hear what any of them were saying, could only think of Nicholas and the connection with him and the overwhelming desire to kiss him again just like she had at the wedding. Kiss him and hold him and have him whisper in her ear.

She gave herself a mental slap. What was coming over her? She couldn’t let herself get carried away with her thoughts and feelings for Nicholas. If she did, she’d make everything about this trip into the past more complicated. For now, she had to remain objective and couldn’t repeat the kiss from the wedding.

At a shout of greetings coming from the edge of town, Beatrice pushed up. “Here we go now. Let’s pray we don’t have a brawl tonight.”

A group of six men strode out of the forest toward the center of town. Two were carrying a buck tied between poles. The others were holding torches that cast light upon the bulging sacks slung over their shoulders. No doubt the sacks were filled with smaller game—game the women had spoken about salting and drying.

Sybil climbed up from the bench too, her legs tangling in her tunic. “Why would there be a brawl?”

“Jane’s brother Eric is back.”

A sliver of unease shimmied up Sybil’s spine, and she rubbed the long sleeves of her gown. “What can you tell me about Eric?”

“He won’t be happy to find Nicholas has taken himself a wife.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” said another woman at the table.

Sybil studied the group of hunters and guessed the man in the forefront was Eric. Blond-haired and with thicker features that reminded her a little of Isaac, the man strode with heavy purpose in each step. He seemed to be in his mid to late twenties with lines grooved into his face that spoke of heartache and tragedy.

Why would Eric be upset that Nicholas had gotten married? Were they still grieving over Jane’s loss?

From the way Nicholas referenced her, Sybil had assumed the woman had died many years ago. But perhaps it had been more recently.

“How long has Jane been gone?” she asked.

“Almost five years,” one of the women replied.

“Right.” Five years was plenty long to grieve. Nicholas had every right to move on.

“We’ve been wanting them both to find happiness again,” Beatrice said in a hushed tone as the conversations began to taper to silence. “But neither has been able to let go of what happened.”

Eric and his companions neared the fire. “What is the cause for making merry?” he asked as he dropped his load.

The men with the buck lowered it to the ground. As they straightened, the only sound was the pop of sparks from the fire.

Nicholas stepped away from the other men. All eyes swung to him, including Eric’s. A part of Sybil wanted to walk over and stand beside Nicholas to present a united front. But another part sensed this was his battle to fight and that she needed to refrain from aiding him.

“I have taken a wife.” Nicholas spoke the words evenly, as though he had no regrets and nothing to hide.

Eric stared at Nicholas, his jaw turning rigid.

“This is our wedding feast.” Nicholas glanced her way, singling her out.

Of course Eric followed his gaze. And as he studied her, his eyes remained cold and unwelcoming.

She resisted the urge to rub her arms again. Instead, she held herself with unflinching stillness, unwilling to allow anyone to intimidate her. She hadn’t done so in her other life in the modern era and wouldn’t start now.

Eric jerked his attention back to Nicholas. “Who is she?”

“She came to my rescue and saved my life.”

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