I nodded, pulling back a little to try to clear my head. Nerves trembled in my hands and I closed a fist around my ancient locket, determined to draw on my family’s courage.
A deep breath steadied me. We weren’t supposed to speak to people in the past, never mind tell them about the future. Caesarion was different, though. He not only accepted the inevitability of his death, but understood that things happened the way they were meant to. My lifelong loyalty to the Historians warred with my instinctual faith in this ancient king. I knew that I should stop, let him go on believing I was an oracle—something he understood.
But he trusted me. I wanted to show him that I trusted him, too.
Not to mention, I had to disappear in a minute. There wasn’t a way to explain that he would understand, and the last thing I needed was him freaking out and telling everyone in ancient Egypt about flighty, disappearing girls who wore black pants under their dresses.
A deep breath didn’t help, but three more started to work. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “I’m not an oracle. I know what’s going to happen because I’m not from a distant land, Caesarion, I’m from a distant time.”
Pain slammed into my brain in a fruitless effort to snatch back words already spoken. I tried to keep the effects of it from my face, making a mental note to bring more painkillers next time.
Breath caught in my chest. Would there be a next time?
Caesarion said nothing, just stared at me, looking a little dumbfounded. I tried to step away, assuming he had changed his mind about my craziness, but his fingers tightened on my waist.
“A moment, please, Kaia. You do not need to run. I need … a moment, is all.”
“I can’t stay in the past longer than twenty-four hours, and the longer I stay, the bigger chance that I will be missed.”
“You are not supposed to be here with me?” he asked after another lengthy pause. The expression in his eyes conveyed the curiosity I had grown used to, along with a befuddled confusion and the tiniest sprinkle of disbelief.
“No.” A hysterical giggle escaped. “Definitely not. And I’m not supposed to be touching you or talking to you at all, never mind telling you who I really am.”
“Why, then?”
“I told you the truth before—we’re supposed to be together. I wanted to know you.”
He pulled me toward him almost unconsciously, sinewy arms gathering me close until only the smallest sliver of light could wriggle between our loose clothing. “If what you say is true, and we do not exist in the same time and place, how is it that we are supposed to be together?”
“Our sciences are very advanced. We can predict ultimate compatibility based on a number of genetic factors.” Frustration thickened my tongue. He wouldn’t understand any of those concepts. “Honestly, I’ve never understood it until you told me of your gods earlier today.”
“What do you mean?”
“That our lives are a single breath in an infinite lifetime. Perhaps your time and mine seem aligned to their faraway eyes.”
“But you do not believe in my gods.”
“I believe the universes are infinite, and mysterious, and harbor a great many secrets.”
He pulled me closer still, raising a hand to my jaw. His thumb swept over my lips. Our gazes locked, and everything except the million feelings crashing over me faded away. His hands on my skin. His eyes lighting a fire deep, deep inside me. The sense of perfect rightness cloaking us as surely as the creeping twilight.
That he would die. That I should let him.
The kiss felt different this time. Familiar instead of strange, with both our bodies desperate to touch the other. His lips were soft, like petals falling against my mouth, and it felt as though my body cracked open. As my hands found their way to his chest and slid up his neck, he pressed me flush against him. The moment changed, growing demanding as his tongue slipped against mine for the briefest of moments before he eased back.
Shock dimmed the pleasure in his eyes. “Apologies, Kaia.”
The bio-tat admonished me with facts about proper courting behavior for ladies of class during this time and heat rose to my cheeks. “Don’t, please. I’m not upset.”
“We’re not … I’m not …”
He looked so helpless and flustered that I couldn’t help but laugh, standing on my tiptoes and pressing my hands to his cheeks, then planting another kiss on his mouth. “Caesarion. This is not a normal situation. We’re breaking so many rules, you kissing me in a barn is hardly worth getting upset over.”
“I’ve never felt this way before, it’s … different.”
I felt my eyebrows shoot up, a self-conscious tug clenching my gut. “Different bad?”
“No, definitely not. It is good, but only … After the way we began in the gardens, I worry. I don’t wish to have you because I am Pharaoh and you must submit to my wishes.” He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “I’m saying this wrong.”
I bit my lip to suppress the laugh this time, giving him as serious a look as I could muster. “You’re doing fine. That was a misunderstanding.”
“Not to you. I made you feel less than the lady you are, and I cannot fix it.”
The edge of sorrow in his words sliced through my heart. “We come from different times and places and cultures. But I promise that I kissed you just now because I have never wanted anything more, and I sincerely hope to do it again.”
He bent forward at my words, passion burning in his eyes, and our mouths connected. This time he kissed me without fear and I tasted him, drank him in like he was lifesaving water on that first, scorching trip to Central America. Every bit of me responded, melting into him as I memorized the softness of his mouth, the heat of his tongue as it played with mine, the gentle nip of his teeth along my jaw.
Caesarion eased back too soon, breathing hard. “Please say you’ll return.”