Page 21 of A Touch for All Time (For All Time #3)

A ria’s head spun in all directions while she let Gray lead her back to the castle. She’d almost been thrown into some prison on false charges. Harper’s warning was happening. Gray’s enemy was going after her. But Gray showed her tonight that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. His warnings were frightening. She heard his icy voice in her mind when he posed his question to his father. Why would you be so careless about making an enemy of me?

Indeed, why would anyone?

Mrs. B. had also arrived and if that weren’t enough to make Aria’s head spin, she then dropped a bomb that Gray had been born in the twentieth century. He was urged to return to set time right.

They’d had no idea that time-traveling was against some sort of time rule. Aria doubted Gray would have let that stop him. Would he leave with her? So many possibilities flowed through her mind about what she wanted to show him: lights, cars, planes, trains, movies, restaurants and more.

They entered the castle, and Gray helped her out of her coat. His fingers brushed her shoulder and then upper arm. His touch sent warm charges through her. Like the charge of lightning that made one’s hair rise up. His breath, falling on the back of her head made her want to turn in his arms and kiss him.

“I’ll walk you to your chamber.” His fathomless voice resonated through her.

“Gray?” she said as they walked together toward the stairs.

“Yes?” he answered, sounding like a satisfied cat while he took her hand again and held it to his chest.

“I’m sorry about your mother. I’m sorry you didn’t know.”

He was quiet for a moment in thoughtful contemplation—or he wasn’t thinking at all. His expression didn’t offer her a clue. Just when she thought he didn’t want to talk about it, he turned slightly to look at her.

“I haven’t had a mother since I was seven. I hate that things were kept from me, but I understand why they were—when I was a child, at least. As I grew older, I wish I would have been told the truth.”

Aria nodded. Her heart broke for him to have such a sneaky, thoughtless grandmother. Mrs. B. had been sneaky and thoughtless with her too. Aria wasn’t so sure she wanted to forgive her.

“Perhaps things were meant to be this way.”

She gave him an askew look. “Will Dartmouth’s rebellious lord suddenly accept that things are meant to be a certain way, and follow along?”

He stopped and turned his body to face her fully. With his free hand he reached up to gently swipe a tendril of her hair off her cheek. He smiled, looking into her eyes, and then grew serious in the next breath. “Not only follow along but go joyfully if it involves you.”

She stared into his eyes, where Grayson Barrington lived, still survived after being alone for so torturously long. Oh, she thanked the good Lord that Gray hadn’t given up what made him wonderfully, expressively human. Dancing.

She had given up. She felt her eyes burn and tried to blink her tears away, but they filled her eyes, nonetheless.

“What makes you cry?” he asked in a quiet tone. “Tell me and I’ll see that it never causes you to shed a tear again.”

She gazed at his lips while he spoke and while two full, fat tears fell from her cheeks. “I want to dance.”

He let her words sink in for a second, and then his smile returned, and he pulled her by the hand the other way—toward his dance hall.

“I didn’t mean now,” she protested, stopping him with laughter escaping her. “It’s the middle of the night! I mean in general. I want to dance with you again.”

“Oh, with me,” he said with a playful grin. “We don’t need a dance hall to do that.” He made a sharp turn and veered off the path, leading her to the doors of his chambers.

This time she didn’t protest. She followed him when he stepped inside and looked around while he bolted the door. She’d been inside his chambers before, though the first time he’d been attacked at the coffee house, and he lay in his bed recovering. She’d entered quickly and left the same way.

His chambers were like a huge New York City apartment with separate rooms. The first room was a fancy living room of sorts, with heavy wood tables and four chairs upholstered in olive silk damask. There was a settee of brown velvet and an ornate walnut armoire against the east wall. A large hearth with a stone mantel was built into the west wall. Above it was a painting of a dancer. Aria thought it to be Gray from the graceful lines.

She followed him through a doorway into another room bare of furniture with moonlight streaming through the eight tall windows along two walls. Aria knew glass was scarce and expensive nowadays. She also knew that Gray liked being outside and these tall windows were probably the closest he could get to it sometimes.

“Another dance hall,” she remarked looking around while he lit candles throughout.

“This one is significantly smaller,” he told her, coming closer. “For when I just want to dance without leaving my rooms.”

Immediately following his words, he bunched up his nose. His eyes closed and his lips puckered. “Do I sound horribly spoiled?”

She shook her head, smiling dreamily at him. “Goodness, my lord Dartmouth, but you’re charming.”

Proving her words to her own heart, he laughed, freeing all traces of guile, opening his mouth wide and releasing a ridiculously adorable sound. This part of him was a stark contrast from the raw, sensual charm he emitted when he danced to the stoic, detached warlord who was harder to read than a book of braille if you weren’t blind.

She could read him though, most of the time. He possessed emotions—and they were strong.

“You’re not spoiled, Gray,” she assured, taking a step closer to him. “You’re wonderfully fresh. Like a cool breeze in the dead of summer. You’re a welcome breath of life using your body to be known.”

He looked down at her and smiled. “I like how you see me.”

He dipped his head to kiss her. She was sure he could feel her heart pounding against him. She thought she might faint. It wasn’t that she’d never been kissed. She had been, but never the way Gray had kissed her.

She almost groaned out loud when the luxuriousness of his full lips pressed against hers. His mouth was curious and cautious, opening to her and closing again around her tongue, her lips.

He didn’t keep kissing though, but rather hauled her against him, and cupping her right hand, he twirled her on her feet, around and around in place, and around the empty hall. They danced to music only they could hear.

He brought it to a whole new level when he ground his hips against her and began dancing contemporary. He kept her pressed against him, one arm curled around her waist, the other hanging at his side while he moved his hips, his chest, his hard belly. She matched his movements, keeping her left leg and hip between his legs. She thought she could seduce him, but she was the one whose knees almost buckled three times. But it wasn’t until he ground himself against her and smiled like a beast with nakedly male intentions that she had to close her eyes to fight against the sight of him and what it was doing to her.

When he bent his face to her neck and inhaled her deeply, she shuddered against him. He lifted his face and looked at her, then smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. His hand at her back closed around her fully, holding her closer.

Briefly, she thought about passing out. Could she stop it from happening? Was this what it was like to kiss the man you loved? To barely breathe waiting for the touch of his lips?

She coiled both of her arms around his neck. She wouldn’t let him go if he backed away from kissing her.

He didn’t. In fact, he matched her eagerness, and, taking her jaw in his palm, he kissed her and made her heart dance. His warm tongue became light, flickering around the darkest shadows—warm, golden light streaked with crimson. His breath, seasoned with desire, became fire, igniting her nerve-endings, setting flames to her blood. As the fire in his gaze had promised, he wreaked havoc on her with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, the latter of which he used to nibble on her lower lip and chin. He was like some thing that wanted to eat her alive. She was willing to be consumed.

She tightened in his arms, like wound coils ready to spring. At once, she felt him harden. Instinctively, she rubbed herself against him. She almost melted in his arms when he withdrew from their kiss, drew back his lips and ground his teeth. He jutted out his groin as if he meant to impale her but was stopped by the confines of their clothes.

Aria was a virgin. It wasn’t too unheard of for a twenty-three-year-old in 2024. She didn’t have time for a relationship, and she wasn’t about to give her body to just anyone.

Gray wasn’t just anyone.

She pulled at his shirt, then stopped to run her fingers down the taut nooks and crannies of his abdomen. He yanked the rest of his shirt over his head, then pulled the laces of her corset and threw the contraption over his shoulder. She worked the laces of his breeches, stripping him down to his hose, while he freed her of her skirts.

She thought they might do it right there on the hard floor, but he scooped her up in the cradle of his arms and carried her through another doorway that opened to his bedroom.

The urge to giggle like a schoolgirl was tempered by the desire to weep like a woman who had lost everything. No. She wouldn’t lose him. He was everything.

She wondered, fleetingly while he carried her to his bed, when she had stopped worrying about her family. Was it after Mrs. B. swore that she’d helped them out, or before that—when she began falling in love with an eighteenth-century dancer?

He set her down on the soft mattress and stared down at her. He swiped his finger over a tear dripping down her cheek. “What is it? Do you want to wait?” he asked patiently.

“No,” she told him, “Because no matter what, I won’t regret it.”

His expression melted into a smile and then he shed his hose like a second skin. She looked at him in the light of the hearth fire and swallowed. She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t ignorant of where he was supposed to put that thing springing up between his sinewy thighs. But as frightening as it appeared, as a part of the rest of his sculpted body, it was beautiful and enticing.

He climbed into bed with her and pulled two blankets over them, up to their chins. She shivered with him in the cold and then laughed with him. She was thankful that he didn’t jump on top of her and begin humping her like she had once overheard one of her students complaining that was how her fiancé did things.

Aria doubted very much she’d be complaining about Gray in the future.

A thread of panic coursed through her, and she pulled him closer. “Gray, promise you won’t leave me. No, no.” She fought to gain control over herself. “I have no right to ask that of you. I’m sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t do this. If we do, I’m afraid I might fall too deeply in love with you. We don’t know what’s going to happen—if we’re separated, I won’t be able to—”

“Aria, my darling, why are you worrying over things that will never happen? I won’t be separated from you. Take me as your husband and let’s let this whole place know it tomorrow.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I won’t marry you to spite anyone. Ask me again at another time.”

His smile deepened, watching her while she spoke. “Aria?”

“Yes?” She glanced at him as she wiggled out of her petticoats and hose under the blankets.

“I love you.”

She stopped and looked at his face close to hers. He was so handsome he stole the breath from her body.

“I’m more stunned than you are,” he confessed in a soft voice. “I thought no one could ever touch my heart again. I wasn’t even willing to let it happen. But you, you came roaring like a fearless little lion and tore away my defenses as if they were made of parchment.”

She tried kicking her legs out of her hose but to no avail. He laughed, and she was sure he crinkled his nose in the soft glow of the firelight. He helped her out of her binds, and she swore silently to help him with the same.

Free, she vaulted over him and smiled down at him. “Gray?” she whispered. “I love you too. I love you enough to throw the key into the estuary when we find it.”

“Aria,” he said, settling her atop his thighs. “I would never let you abandon your family.”

She didn’t doubt his words, and she loved him even more for them. She didn’t want to think about being apart from him now. But who would he be abandoning here? His father and his father’s horrible wife and her son? The villagers who’d raged to stone him?

She lowered herself and kissed his waiting, smiling mouth. She felt him beneath her trying to guide himself into her. She smiled like a cat and rubbed herself over him, encasing him in her fiery hot niche, almost taking him whole as he shot his hot lubricant into her.

She didn’t let him retreat when he was spent but held him down and pumped harder. To her surprise and delight, his stamina didn’t fail, nor did his appetite for her. What had been her victory quickly became his when he turned her on her back and spread her thighs with his knees.

She wasn’t sure how she’d taken him the first time. She wasn’t sure she could do it again, but he drove himself into her and made her drip around him and take him deeper.

They slept for a little while but soon he woke her again by drinking from her tight nipples. She could do nothing but smile as molten fire coursed through her and made her legs spread.

Turning her over, he mounted her from behind. He leaned over her and spoke close to her ear, telling her what she meant to him and how much he needed her in his life.

Pushing her down he slipped his finger under her and rolled her hard nub in his fingers until she cried out. His thrusts grew more urgent as she found her release in his hand, and he found his inside her warm body.

Aria wasn’t sure how many times they’d woken up tangled in each other’s arms. How many times they made love before he finally fell asleep for over two hours.

Aria was sore but ecstatically happy as she made her way to her chambers just before the sun came up.

She didn’t want Sarah to find her bed empty this morning, and she also wanted to let Gray sleep, so she slipped out of his bed without disturbing him.

She managed to get to her rooms without anyone seeing her. She smiled, opening her door and stepping inside. Hands came around her mouth right away and a hard body pressed up against hers.

“Scream and I kill him before I kill you.”

Mr. Cavendish’s voice against her ear made her want to scream and claw his eyes out. She wouldn’t scream but she would kick him in the—

Another set of hands appeared out of the shadows. One hand lashed out and punched her in the jaw, knocking her out.

*

Gray dreamed he was a child wandering about in the forest. All around him animals foraged and prepared for the new day. None of them stopped to speak with him. When he tried to communicate with them, nothing happened. Panic and loneliness engulfed him. Suddenly, they began running for their lives away from him and out of the forest.

Wait! Why are you running? Can you not hear me?

They didn’t respond or even stop running. Then he saw Abigail the goose flying toward him. She quacked but he shook his head, not understanding.

“But I can understand,” he told himself. “I can understand.” He closed his eyes and listened. For a moment he heard nothing but quacking, and then he was no longer in the forest. His dream changed. He was still a young boy, but now he was inside the castle, in his chambers, asleep with his head on a woman’s lap.

“Grayson, I came back for you, but I was captured.”

“Mother, I have been so afraid without you.”

“Forgive me, my darling,” she cooed, stroking his head. “I couldn’t live the way they wanted me to live in that time. I was so miserable by all their ridiculous rules and regulations against women that I prayed many nights for death. I didn’t know that I could travel through time until I was twelve. My younger sister Joan was just eight when she was thrown from her horse and broke her neck. She died later that night. My parents were inconsolable. I was…I was crying. Joan was a beautiful, sweet little girl. I didn’t want to lose her in my life. I wept, brokenhearted. All I could do was wish we could go back in time and stop Joan from riding that horse. And then, it happened.” She paused to wipe her eyes and then smiled. “I don’t regret it. Joan was with us again. I didn’t travel again for ten years. Grandmother Tessa had warned me so many times not to try it that I never did. But I was desperate to be away from this time. At first, I flitted around searching for a time that would suit us. My goal had always been to find a place for you and me, Gray. But then, traveling became fun and I began to forget my life here.”

“Me,” he whispered.

She didn’t answer but stopped stroking him and looked up at the door.

“Wake up,” she said, returning her attention to him. “Wake up, Son.”

Then he heard another voice, Grayson, it is Tabby. Open your eyes! Wake up! They have taken your lady!

Gray’s eyes shot open. He sucked in a great gulp of air and sat upright in his bed. An instant passed while his dream and what he just heard settled into him. He looked at the side of his bed where he’d left Aria before falling asleep. She wasn’t there. Without further hesitation, he leaped out of the bed, pulled on his breeches and boots and ran from the chambers.

He went directly to Aria’s chambers. She wasn’t there.

Tabby! Where is she?

Mr. Cavendish and Mr. Gable have taken her out of the house and are heading for the Gable holding.

Gray felt his blood boiling in his veins. Cavendish and Harry Gable, he thought with murderous intent flashing across his eyes as he fled the castle. He would kill them.

He called for Ghost and the horse barreled out of the stable, bareback.

He took her on Chester , Ghost communicated to him, after Esper kicked out at him every time he attempted to saddle her .

Gray smiled. Esper was fast. Chester was old. Remind me to give Esper extra carrots later.

I bit Mr. Gable’s finger when he tried to saddle me.

That’s my girl. You’ll get carrots every day for the rest of your life. But now, help me find her.

The horse took off at top speed. Then Gray heard Ghost in his mind, May I say, lord, that it is good to have you back.

It’s good to be back , Gray replied and leaned forward to pat Ghost’s neck. Forgive me for staying away for so long.

They came upon Chester and one of the horses that had followed him home the day he caught the two thieves. There was no one with them. There were droplets of blood on the snowy ground. Gray’s blood drained from his face. Was this Aria’s blood? If it was…if she was hurt in any way…

I sense two people alive within a kilometer of here , he alone heard Ghost say.

Immediately, his head snapped up. He sniffed the air as he’d seen his friends do for ten years of his life. But he smelled nothing beside the scents of the forest.

But Ghost could smell better than he could. This way , the horse told him and turned north.

“Aria!” he shouted out.

This way! something answered.

Over here!

This way!

He followed the path to where the birds and foxes and other forest animals led him. He passed the Gable’s holding and didn’t veer in its direction. He trusted the voices he heard more than his eyes.

They led him in the right direction. He came upon Cavendish hovering over her, pointing his arrow, nocked and ready to fly into her beautiful face.

Gray didn’t think. He acted on pure instinct, ready to kill for her.

He charged like a horrifying beast set loose to wreck its worst havoc. He smashed into Cavendish, grasping the arrow at the same time. He heard ribs cracking.

Landing on the balls of his feet and palms almost hitting the ground, he turned, snarled, and leaped at the man writhing on the ground. A knee crashing into Cavendish’s thigh would ensure the bastard didn’t stand to his feet again. But that wasn’t enough. Cavendish had kicked Gray and broken his bones more than once. He’d teased and ridiculed Gray about his dancing and after the incident, Cavendish made his life a living hell. Gray wanted to pay him back for it all.

When blood from Cavendish’s face splattered up onto his cheek, he became aware of someone grasping his wrist and almost falling over him when she tried to stop his fist from striking again.

Aria! “Aria!” He grabbed her face and grew furious again when he saw her bruised jaw. But he didn’t hit Cavendish again. Aria needed to be seen to.

“Are you hurt very badly?” he managed to ask her, not breathing until she answered. “Where’s Harry Gable?”

“I’m not hurt,” she assured him with her smile that worked to calm him. “And Harry Gable is off somewhere nursing his hand after Ghost bit off his finger.”

You’ll get apples too, Ghost.

“You should be promising her apples for the next month.”

“That’s what I’m doing! How did you know?”

She shrugged. “I can tell by your tender expression that you’re speaking to her. And I just know what I would say to her.”

She made him laugh. He laughed! Then he kissed her jaw as gently as he could and pulled her into his embrace.

“How did you find me?”

He looked at his horse. “Ghost has a good nose.”

Why, thank you Grayson.

His smile deepened and Aria laughed. “My boyfriend is Dr. Doolittle.”

“Who?” he asked.

She let him help her to her feet and then, standing above Cavendish, she let him kiss her.