Taking their daughter and settling her in his arms, Robert bent his head and rubbed his face against her tummy, making growling sounds that instantly transformed her wails into giggles.
Robert had changed very little in the years they had been together. His body was just as firm and muscular as it had been the day she had met him. His hair was still black as night, something about which Beth complained often because her own was already lightly peppered with gray. While her face remained smooth and unwrinkled, his now sported laugh lines at the outer corners of his eyes. Laugh lines for which he deemed her responsible.
He was so handsome, still able to steal her breath with just a look. Beth didn’t know why everyone believed married couples never had sex. She and Robert made love all the time, their relationship full of never-ending passion and laughter.
Robert kissed Vanessa’s forehead, then handed her back to Beth and herded the boys over to the hearth, where a padded bench had been placed.
Beth sat, smiling when Robert bent and carefully adjusted her skirts for her, stealing another kiss in the process. When all was to their liking, he sat beside her and lifted Alex onto his knee. Young Michael and Josh stood close on either side, according to Monsieur Tiveau’s directions.
Robert wrapped his free arm around her waist.
Josh rested a hand on her shoulder.
Beth glanced at her husband, at their children gathered around them, thought of the life she had left behind in the future, and knew no regrets.
As if hearing her thoughts, Robert leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Have I made you happy, Beth?”
Lifting her lips to his, she met his gaze and smiled. “The happiest.”
“I love you. You are my world.”
She kissed him again. “And you are mine.”
Bonus Scene
In every manuscript I write, there is always at least one scene I cut either to reduce the word count or because I ultimately decide that—although I enjoy the scene—it doesn’t advance the plot. The following is just such a scene, but I thought both readers of The Gifted Ones series and those who enjoy my Immortal Guardians series would be interested in it. It takes place shortly after Robert and Bethany arrive in her time to visit Josh.
In the quiet of the master bedroom on the second floor of Marc’s modest two-story home, a rhythmic thumping and muted laughter filtered in from outside, breaking the silence. Drawing back the curtains of the window that overlooked his front yard, Marc carefully avoided the scorching afternoon sunlight and remained in the cool shadows while he watched the activity below.
His lips twitched when the basketball Robert hurled toward the goal careened off the backboard without so much as brushing the rim.
Robert was appallingly bad at the sport and clearly grew frustrated. To a man who could throw an axe or a dagger with astounding precision, sending a rubber ball through a net must appear a simple task. But Marc suspected Robert’s inability to master it was only partly responsible for the frown that drew down his brows.
While fall temperatures cooled northern states, temperatures in Houston still hovered in the mid-nineties. The heat index or feels-like temp was probably a good ten degrees above that.
Perspiration trailed down the sides of Robert’s flushed face and saturated his T-shirt. His arms and the thickly muscled legs left bare by the shorts Josh had loaned him were damp as well. The Earl of Fosterly was definitely having a difficult time adjusting to the new climate, and had to pause frequently to guzzle the cold water Beth kept in the shade of the front porch.
While Josh loped off after the ball, Beth smiled up at Robert and offered him advice and encouragement.
What an unlikely couple they were. Born and raised eight centuries apart, they had nevertheless found enough similarities between them to fall deeply in love.
In deference to Robert’s medieval mind frame, Beth had foregone wearing shorts herself (Robert balked at her revealing so much tempting bare flesh to others) and instead wore jeans and a T-shirt. Even these, Marc knew, had met with some disapproval. And he could understand why.
The jeans were a pale, pale blue and hugged her slender legs and firm, shapely ass like a second skin. They rode low on her hips, the waistband falling beneath her belly button, and allowed teasing glimpses of muscled abs and the soft white skin of her narrow waist every time her T-shirt drifted up. Several damp patches darkened her red shirt, making it cling to her full breasts and small frame in alluring ways.
Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that jounced and danced with every movement. Damp curls had sprung loose, and clung to her temples and the back of her neck. Her pretty face glistening, she caught the ball Josh tossed her, flashed Robert a grin, and effortlessly sent the ball sailing through the net.
Marc’s hand curled into a fist around the loose curtain fabric.
She was so damned beautiful. Her laughter so musical.