Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)

Ceasing her contortions, she scowled up at him. “How the hell do I get out of this thing? I didn’t really pay attention when that girl came in to help me dress this morning.” She had still been too weirded out over a complete stranger pulling off the nightgown Beth had borrowed and helping her dress.

Emitting something between a laugh and a groan, he closed the distance between them. “You cannot resist tempting me, can you?” Turning her away from him, he went to work on the laces and deftly relieved her of the dress.

“Thank you,” she breathed when the sodden material fell to the floor.

Robert said nothing.

She turned to face him.

His gaze had fallen to her black bra and bikini panties.

The fire crackled behind him.

His hands curled into fists.

He looked as though he wished to devour her.

“I just had a very naughty thought,” she whispered, her heart again pounding in her chest.

Robert’s eyes rose to meet hers, so full of desire.

“I was thinking,” she continued softly, “that you were looking at me as if I were good enough to eat, and—”

“Beth?” he interrupted, his voice deep and hoarse.

“Aye?”

“I beg you not to finish that sentence.”

She laughed. “It’s your fault, you know. I’m not like this with anyone else. You’re just so hot you make me want to—”

“Beth!” he barked.

She held up her hands, laughing again. “All right. All right. Where’s your robe?”

For a moment, she thought he would suffocate her as he grabbed his robe and attempted to get her covered as quickly as possible.

Amusement taking the edge off her own desire, she turned away and slipped out of her bra and panties. The robe was too long, of course, the hem pooling on the floor and the sleeves ending well beyond her fingertips. But it was warm and carried Robert’s amazing scent. Tugging it closed in front, she spun to face him and caught him staring down at her bra and panties.

“Do I get to help you take off your clothes?” she asked, only partially teasing.



“Nay,” he insisted.

“Spoilsport,” she muttered again and moved to warm her hands in front of the fire.

She could have sworn she heard a faint chuckle as material rustled behind her.

Beth told herself not to look, but ended up glancing over her shoulder anyway.

She frowned.

He had already divested himself of his wet clothes and donned dry braies and a shirt.

“How did you do that so fast? I didn’t even get a chance to peek!”

Grinning, Robert joined her before the hearth. “There will be time for that later.” He sank into one of the two chairs there. “Now I am ready to hear your story.”

Beth bit her lip, any urge to tease him vanishing. “You’re really going to make me do this, huh?”

His expression sobered. “Nay, Beth. If ’twill distress you overly, you need not tell me. I merely wish to know more of you.”

She sighed. If she told him it was too painful or upsetting, she knew he would allow her to retreat and likely never say another word about it. But she had put it off long enough. He deserved to know. She had slept with him every night for two weeks now. She couldn’t start sleeping with him in the nonliteral sense without telling him where or when she was from. And that she didn’t know how she had come to be there. Or how long she would be able to stay. Or what in the world would take her back, if anything.

“Let me ask you something first,” she began tentatively.

He gave her a nod of encouragement. “As you will.”

Having witnessed firsthand some of the bizarre superstitions of this time, she thought it best to test the waters first and see how bad this might get. “How do you feel about witches? Do you think they should be burned at the stake or weighted down with stones and tossed into a lake?”

The change her words wrought in him both fascinated and frightened her.

His body went completely still. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. He didn’t make a sound. It was as though he had turned to stone.

Then his nostrils flared. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he ground his teeth. His eyebrows lowered. His eyes glinted dangerously. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair until she thought the wood might crumble into sawdust.

“To whom have you been speaking, Beth?”

She had never heard that particular tone of voice from Robert before. It actually sent a chill darting through her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you do.” He rose, the movement graceful, yet vaguely threatening. “Someone has been filling your ears with tales of Alyssa, have they not?”

As unobtrusively as possible, she took a step backward. “Tales of whom?”

“Dark tales, no doubt. Malicious lies spoken by loose tongues.”

“Um…”

He stalked her with slow deliberate steps, like a panther on the prowl. “Did they tell you she sold her soul to the devil in exchange for her gifts?”

“Her what?”

“Did they tell you she is Lucifer’s daughter? Or, better yet, Lucifer’s lover?”

“I have no idea what you’re—”

“I do not blame you, Beth, for listening. I merely want you to give me the liar’s name so that I can cut his tongue from his devious, filth-spewing mouth!”

Okay, now she was worried.

Robert’s face mottled with fury.

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