Trapped in Time Read online

  “I see. I’m glad—your natural curls are much more becoming than the latest fashion for flat, lifeless hair,” Richard remarked. “But as to the wound, will you allow me…”

  He stopped abruptly to Caroline’s surprise.

  “Yes?” she asked, frowning up at him.

  She got the sense that he was struggling with himself somehow but finally he went on.

  “Will you allow me to heal you?” he asked stiffly. “I speak as a physician only, you understand. I would not see you—or indeed anyone—hurting if there was anything I could do to allay their pain.”

  “Oh…all right. Yes, thank you.” Caroline supposed he must have some kind of ointment he wanted to put on her ear. And since it really did sting and throb where the hot tongs had burned her, she was willing to let him.

  But to her surprise, instead of going for his black doctor bag, or where ever it was he kept his medicines, the big Kindred took her face in both hands.

  “What…what are you doing?” she whispered breathlessly.

  “Healing you.” His voice was a soft growl in the dimness and then he was tilting her face to the side and lapping slowly and carefully along the curve of her ear. When he got to her earlobe, he sucked it gently into his mouth and bathed it with his tongue.

  His hot mouth on such a sensitive area, sent Caroline’s body into overdrive. Immediately she felt her nipples get hard and her pussy get wet. Breathing became a real problem since she couldn’t get a deep enough breath to keep up with her pounding heart. Soon she was nearly panting as Richard continued to suck first her earlobe, and then moved lower to place a slow, hot, open-mouthed kiss against the side of her neck.

  “Oh,” Caroline heard herself whisper. “Oh, God…” She realized she was getting weak in the knees—something that had never happened to her before. The few times she had kissed and made out with guys, the experience had left her cold because she felt nothing for them. But this time was unique—she felt that spark—that connection—she’d sensed earlier between herself and Richard and it made all the difference.

  At last he pulled back and gazed into her eyes for a long moment before placing a soft, brief kiss on her lips—barely a brush of his mouth to hers. Then he just looked at her.

  They stood that way for a moment, her staring up at him and Richard looking down at her, his hand still cupping her cheek. Then, almost reluctantly, he dropped his hand and stepped back.

  “There, you’re healed and all cleaned up.” His voice was hoarse and low. “Now you’re fit to go out to the ball and find yourself a new husband.”

  “I never said I wanted to—” Caroline began but then stopped herself. For all she knew, the other Caroline had told Richard on a regular basis that she wanted nothing to do with him and couldn’t wait to find another man.

  “Good night, Caroline.” His voice was low but firm. Clearly, it was a dismissal.

  “Good…good night.” Her voice trembled uncertainly and she felt that she had never wanted anything more in her life than she wanted to stay here with the big Kindred instead of going to the awful ball.

  But that was not to be. Just then she heard the strident voice of the other mother calling up the stairs.

  “Caroline my pet, where are you? The carriage is here—we must be going.”

  Caroline’s heart started pounding for a whole other reason and she felt sick to her stomach. Social gatherings—especially big ones—always made her a wreck of anxiety. But she had no choice,

  “Goodbye,” she said to Richard and turning, she fled.

  * * * * *

  Richard watched her go, his pulse thundering in his veins. What was this new attraction he felt between them? It seemed to be the ingredient that had been missing from their marriage for the past two years—but why was it showing up now? What good could it do them at this late date when she was nearly free of him?

  But he couldn’t forget the vulnerable look in her big, brown eyes when he’d leaned down to kiss her, or her soft, panting moans while he’d been healing her.

  That was another thing—though Blood Kindred males were able to heal their mates and he had offered in the past—once when she pricked herself with a needle and another time when she’d burned herself on a candle flame—Caroline had never allowed him to heal her before. She had scoffed at the idea that the essence secreted by his fangs could heal her and called it “a dirty heathen trick.” But tonight, when he’d offered to heal her burned earlobe, the words had barely been out of his mouth before she’d agreed.

  What had changed?

  Whatever it was, it seemed to be for the better—though he couldn’t trust that it would last, Richard told himself grimly. It could still be a lingering effect of the lightning strike—in which case it could possibly wear off at any moment, leaving the old, skeptical, scornful Caroline behind.

  In fact, the old Caroline was likely to be on display at the ball tonight, he thought as he poked up the fire some more and got ready to go. A girl who planned to separate from her Kindred husband was supposed to wait until the announcement had been formally made but her dear Ma-ma clearly planned to get a jump on things. She was looking for Caroline’s next husband before the ink was even dry on the annulment of their Joining contract.

  And he was going to be there to witness the whole thing. Was he mad? Or just a glutton for punishment?

  He thought of the softness of her cheek, of her panting cries while he healed her and the sweet scent of her desire, drifting up to his sensitive Kindred nose, even through the layers and layers of fabric she wore.

  He was going—for good, or ill, he would be at the ball tonight and see how she reacted to whomever it was her mother wanted to introduce her to. It might be masochistic but he couldn’t help it. Caroline was beautiful and cruel and she drew him like a moth to the flame—he literally could not look away or let her go until he absolutely had to.

  Even if holding on until the last minute hurt like the devil and blasted his heart to shreds, hold on he would, until he was forced to let go. He loved her, damn it, and he couldn’t stop—no matter how ill-advised it was.

  Chapter Ten

  “What’s wrong with your face? And your hair! Why hasn’t Mary Ann straightened it? And why are you not wearing rouge or lip paint?”

  The questions came thick and fast, as Caroline had thought they might. She decided to use the same excuse she’d used on her lady’s maid.

  “My head and face are too tender from the lightning strike to stand too much, uh, stimulation,” she explained to the other mother.

  “But my dear—your face! That hair! So unfashionable!” the other mother spluttered.

  As formidable as the other woman was, Caroline was determined to stand firm on this. She had no wish to wear pig fat on her face or have her hair yanked straight by the burning-hot tongs.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, lifting her chin. “But I’m really not feeling very well. I told you I would come to the ball tonight to oblige you, but it has to be on my own terms. If you don’t like how I look, I’m more than happy to go back upstairs and get an early night’s sleep.”

  The other mother looked extremely surprised. Her mouth fell open and for a moment she just stood there staring. Caroline had the idea that she didn’t get opposition to her plans very often. At last she closed her mouth and shook her head.

  “Caroline, my dear, are you quite all right?” she asked. “You’re not acting yourself at all tonight!”

  “I’m not quite feeling myself,” Caroline said, which was the absolute truth, if something of an understatement. “I did get struck by lightning,” she reminded the other mother again. It was her only excuse and she was determined to milk it for all it was worth. “They say that changes people—don’t they?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “I suppose it must.” The other mother shook her head. “Well, since we have no time to spare I’ll allow it this time. After all, who’s to say you might not start a new fashion trend?” she wen