Rendezvous With Yesterday

From the New York Times bestselling author of the acclaimed Immortal  Guardians series comes the second book in an enchanting new series full  of romance, danger, and loyalty: The Gifted Ones.

Modern-day  bounty hunter Bethany Bennett helps her brother track two fugitives to a  forest outside of Houston, Texas.  But what should have been a routine  apprehension of two bail skippers spirals out of control and ends in  violence.  After Beth and her brother are both seriously injured, a  mysterious figure suddenly looms over her.  And, when the smoke clears,  Beth finds herself not only in another place, but in another time.

As  Lord Robert, Earl of Fosterly, attempts to identify and track down the  nameless enemy who has been plaguing his lands and people with violence,  the most peculiar woman stumbles into his path.  Small, vulnerable, yet  possessed of a bold, fiery spirit and wicked sense of humor, she  persists in dubbing Robert and his men members of something called a  medieval reenactment group . . . until she sees his castle and labels  herself insane.  It seems bounty hunter Bethany Bennett has come to him  from the future, bringing with her laughter and chaos, swiftly winning  the hearts of his people and inspiring within him a love he thought he  would never experience again.  But when Robert discovers a way for her  to return to her time, will the love they share be enough to keep them  together?

"I can't bathe with you here," she protested.

"I will not watch you, Beth," he informed her patiently.  Though the temptation would be great, he felt confident he could  resist it.

"Then go wait for me at the campsite.  I can find my way back."

"I cannot leave you unprotected."

"Have you forgotten this?"  Reaching down to her ankle,  she removed the smallest of her weapons from her boot.  "I have my  twenty-two.  I'll be perfectly safe."

He eyed the silvery object doubtfully, unsure exactly  what such a weapon did.  "You are not familiar with these woods and know  neither the dangers they possess nor how swiftly they can come upon  you.  I will not leave you alone."

Her expression darkened with a mixture of frustration and dismay.

He loosed a heavy sigh.  "I am here to protect  you, Beth, not ravish you.  Had the latter been my intention, I would  have already done so.  I vow I have never taken a woman by force in my  life."

A flush mounted her cheeks.

"I have already told you I will turn my back.  If 'twill  make you feel better, then leave your undergarments on, though I assure  you such is not necessary."

A moment passed.  "Fine," she grumbled, scooting off the  rock and stepping onto the grassy bank.  "I guess it's nothing you  haven't seen before anyway.  Just don't take this as an invitation."

"As you wish."

Robert learned something new about her then.  When Bethany decided to place her trust in someone, she gave her full trust.

After placing her twenty-two on the ground a few feet  from the water's edge, she proceeded to disrobe without even asking him  to give her his back.  She discarded her boots and odd, thick,  ankle-high white hose first.  Then she parted her long-sleeved tunic  down the middle and shrugged out of it.

He stepped forward and extended one hand.

A question in her gaze, Bethany handed him the jacket, he thought she called it.

"I thought to wash it for you whilst you bathe."

Her eyes narrowed.  "Are you sure you're real?"

"I do not understand."

Shaking her head, she lowered her hands to the sides of  her odd vest.  "You're too good to be true, Robert.  First you say you  would give your life to protect me."  Rrrrip.  "Then you kneel in icy water and wash my hair."  Rrrrip.  "And now you're offering to wash my filthy clothes for me."  Rrrrip.  Rrrrip.  She lifted the vest over her head.  "No man is that nice."  Tossing it aside, she reached for her belt.  A few nimble pulls and it joined her vest at her feet.

Robert stood rooted to the spot, his mouth dry, breath  quickening, as she tucked her fingers beneath the hem of her tiny  sleeveless tunic, then dragged it up and over her head.  

Heat seared him, racing through his veins and pooling in his groin.

Was that a bra?  Those two tiny scraps of sleek  black fabric that cupped her full breasts the way his hands itched to,  barely covering the pale pink crests and held in place by the thin black  straps whose purpose had eluded him earlier?  More plump, pale flesh  than he had anticipated rose above the edges, the shadowed valley  between them drawing his hungry gaze.

Despite the fact that almost every inch of her skin was  coated with dried blood, Robert found himself consumed with lust the  likes of which he had not experienced in years.

"Mayhap I am not as honorable as you think I am," he admitted hoarsely.

Unconcerned, she handed him the sleeveless tunic, then started unfastening the front of her breeches.

"Mayhap I only offered to wash your garments in hopes of  distracting myself from"—his gaze returned to her breasts—"other  things."

Her eyes met his, then slid away.  "Oh."  He thought her  cheeks darkened a bit.  "Well, just pretend we're at the beach and this  is a bathing suit," she mumbled, tucking her thumbs in the waistband of  her breeches.

"You make a habit of walking along the shore garbed so— By the saints!" he practically bellowed.

Bethany jumped.  "What?"  Eyes wide with alarm, she scanned their surroundings.

Try though he might, Robert could not look away.  He  knew he should, but he could not. Nor could he pick his jaw up from  where it had landed on the ground.  All he could do was stand and stare  and go up in flames.

Bethany's breeches now lay bunched around her ankles,  leaving her long, slender legs and almost everything else bare.  The  only thing that shielded her . . . modesty . . . was a V-shaped piece of  shiny black material that formed a triangle at the juncture of her  thighs and narrowed to two thin strips that disappeared over her hips.

"Robert?"

For a moment, he thought he would not succeed in dragging his gaze away.  

How those black scraps tempted him, beckoning him to abandon all honor and let his hands and mouth go exploring.

"Robert?  You're starting to make me a little nervous."

He imagined so, slavering over her the way he was, like a wolf wishing to dine on a ewe.  

"Not to mention self-conscious," she added.

At last, he managed to close his mouth.  Clearing his  throat, he tried to remember what he had been saying.  "You wander along  the shores garbed so sparsely?"

She glanced down and stepped out of the breeches.   "Actually, no.  I sunburn too easily.  But I've seen women at the beach  who wore less."

"Less than that?" he asked incredulously.

Her brow crinkled slightly.  "Aye.  Lots of times.  Especially during spring break."

He didn't know what spring break was, but surely she jested.

"Are you all right?" she asked, eyeing him dubiously.

All right?  Nay, he was not all right.  He trembled with  need.  He was on fire.  He was a breath away from losing both his  control and his sanity.  And she seemed completely oblivious to the  effect her near nudity had on him.