Romancing a Stranger (7 page)

Warden surged deeper, pounding into her now, taking control of her body to find his own climax; then he leaned forward, curving his body over hers and bucked in release. She wrapped her arms around his back and sighed with pleasure as he spent himself inside her.

After a long, heart-pounding moment, Warden lifted onto his elbows. He stared down at her, his eyes hooded, cheeks flushed. “You look so beautiful when you come.”

Milli giggled, pulling him down to cuddle with her. “And you look amazing between my legs.”

His teasing expression faded; his eyes searched hers. “I should not have accused you of betraying me, but your wickedness surprised me. Am I forgiven?” He leaned down and kissed her lips softly, gaining Milli’s contented sigh.

“Yes. You’re forgiven, but why did you change your mind?”

He rolled off and settled beside her, wrapping a big arm over her chest. “Someone told me that you’re pure in heart and soul. It occurred to me that you would never betray me.” He swept a hand over her cheek. “Tell me what you tried to say before.”

Milli’s jaw dropped in surprise. “You really want to know?”

He nodded, his expression skeptical, yet sincere.

“Well, where do I begin? Uh—I lived a very lonely life, but I was successful. I was a writer for the local newspaper, drove a mustang, but I was never happy. This home we’re in right now is the same home I lived in, in the future.” She smiled when he quirked a brow. “I was raised by foster parents who didn’t love me, and I never met a man I could trust.” Warden stared at her, looking more than a little confused. “In 2010, people drive cars with motors in place of horses, buildings reach the sky, and jet planes fly people wherever they want to go; from England to Australia to Hawaii, anywhere. It’s a chaotic world where I come from. I never thought I’d like this primitive way of life, but you know…it’s peaceful.”

“Primitive?” He chuckled. “In your travels, did you ever meet an old gypsy?”

She looked at him strangely then smiled. “No, but I did see a fortune teller once during a carnival. I thought it was a woman reading my fortune. Long white hair, pretty blue eyes, but it was a guy. When he smiled, he had a gold front tooth—”

Warden shot up in bed, his expression grim. “What did he tell you?”

Milli thought back to that strange day several years ago. “He said something like ‘Beware of St. Claire’ or something like that. Why?”

Warden got off the bed and began to dress. Though she was confused by his sudden rush, she enjoyed watching the muscles in his arms bulge and twitch while he pulled on his pants. His broad chest was covered in a light dusting of dark hair that trailed down to a delicious Apollo’s belt.
Yummy.

And the cock hanging between his legs was pretty damn special, too. She didn’t want him to leave.

“I have some important business to take care of, but I want to spend the evening with you. Would you like that, love?”

Love
. The endearment made her stomach flutter. Did she love him as well? She wasn’t sure what love felt like, but she had to figure it out, and soon.

The study door was open, and curiosity made her enter. There was something about this room that pulled her in like a magnet.

She clasped her hands behind her back and looked at the objects in the room. Hundreds of books lined the shelves, as well as figurines and various knickknacks. To think, two weeks ago she would have laughed if somebody told her she’d travel back to the time of her ancestors. If not for the amethyst globe, she never would have had the chance to love a sister, or Samson, or share the pleasure of Warden’s company.

She smiled, knowing she was given a rare gift, and though she’d wanted to find that Saska fellow and have him reverse whatever it was that he did with that globe, now she wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t imagine leaving this place where she was loved.

Destiny had given her the chance to live, the opportunity to know what it felt like to have people genuinely care for her. Sure, she still talked like a trucker at times, but she’d get over it soon enough. And eventually she’d get used to these damn uncomfortable dresses. Maybe, if she stayed, she could design a proper bra for these poor women so they wouldn’t have their tits and their guts strangled by corsets.

There was no fire lit in the study today. She stared down at the clumps of ashes and burnt logs. That’s when she noticed a crumpled piece of paper lying beside the grate. She knelt down and picked it up, glancing at the door to ensure nobody saw her.

Written in a man’s messy scribble was the name “Vivian St. Claire.” Her heart pounded, and her hands shook. That name St. Claire repeated in her mind.
Beware of St. Claire
. The woman’s address was listed beneath her name.

How was she supposed to react to this and why was this in Warden’s study? She shoved the paper between her breasts and went to look for Samson. A sense of dread came over her. This morning she had told Warden about what that fortuneteller had said, and then he rushed out the door. It didn’t take much thought to figure out why he left so quickly.

She found Samson giving orders to the kitchen staff.

“Who is Vivian St. Claire?”

Samson’s shoulders tensed, and all the maids’ eyes popped. They looked afraid of something. The butler turned, his smile forced. “Vivian St. Claire, Madam? I know of no such name.”

“Bullshit, Samson. I found her name and address in Warden’s study. What does she have to do with my husband?”

A couple of the maids blushed, but Samson remained unreadable. She knew he’d never break Warden’s confidence, so she turned to the youngest looking maid, who was blushing like a beet.

“
You
. You will tell me who this woman is or you will be without a job.”

The maid’s hands shook and her chin quivered. “Please, Mistress. I need this job to support my mother—”

“Tell me!”

“She is an actress and a prostitute, Mistress.” The girl hung her head in shame.

Milli stared at her, numb with shock. Anger, resentment, and betrayal were hard emotions to swallow. She nodded resolutely and left the staff about their business, aimlessly wandering down the hallway with no direction in mind. So Warden had turned to a loose woman after all. Had he fucked Vivian St. Claire before or after Milli came here?

And to think he had the nerve to accuse her of cheating simply because she’d given him a blowjob.

She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. She spun around, thinking it was Warden. “You bastar—”

Samson looked grave, and even though she wanted to be mad at him for not telling her, she wouldn’t jeopardize his station here. It was his duty to keep the master’s secrets. “Madam, can I get you anything? Anything at all.”

She looked at him squarely. “Is Warden’s driver here?”

“John returned a short while ago. He will take you wherever you wish to go. May I suggest a bit of shopping? Perhaps charging a great sum to Mr. Blackwood’s accounts—”

“Do I look like I want to go shopping, Samson?” When he lowered his head, she reached out and cupped his chin, forcing him to look up. She smiled, hoping to reassure him. This mess wasn’t his fault. “What I want to do is beat his ass.”

His gaze widened, but he said nothing.

“Never mind. Please tell John I want to go to town, right now.”

Five minutes later, a carriage stopped at the curb. Milli accepted John’s hand and stepped up into the carriage. “Take me to Vivian St. Claire.”

The driver looked surprised and maybe a little embarrassed. “I cannot do that, Mistress. That is no place for a lady.”

Milli glared at him. “Let me tell you something, John. Lady or not, I will grab your balls and twist them so hard you’ll never be able to have children. Understand?”

He nodded quickly. “Up you go, Madam.” Before long, the carriage jerked forward and Milli was on the next journey of her twisted life.

She settled back on the stiff seat. If not for the devastating news that Warden had gone to a whore, she might have enjoyed her first carriage ride. But luck never had a way of letting her enjoy much these days. She should be used to it.

At least the ride enabled a view of historical Boston no movie could rival.

Fine ladies in beautiful dresses and umbrellas filled the streets. Gentlemen with tall hats and canes milled about. It was busier than she had imagined. The constant click and clack of the horse’s hooves echoed through the streets. Carriage wheels creaked, and in the distance construction clanged as metal was erected, filling her head with an era she never imagined being a part of. She stared out the window, taking in the views as tears pooled in her eyes.

If she found her way home, she would lose all this.

The carriage pulled up in front of a downtown row house. One could pass the door and never know it belonged to a slut, a home-wrecker. Milli jumped when the carriage door swung open and the driver’s hand reached in to assist her.

She took the steps quickly and knocked on the door before she lost her nerve.

No response.

She closed her fist and wailed on the door like a madwoman.

The door swung open a moment later, and the gorgeous face of a tall, dark-haired woman peeked through.

So this is what Warden prefers…

“What do you want?” the woman asked, holding the door open just wide enough to see her pretty face.

Milli kept her composure as best she could. “Did you fuck my husband?”

Vivian St. Claire’s eyes widened before she threw her head back and laughed. “That depends, my darling. Who is your husband?”

“Mr. Blackwood.”

The woman’s smile was devilish. “Ah, the delicious Blackwood. Such a handsome man. You must be the cold fish everyone talks about.”

She’d heard enough. Milli shoved against the door, sending the bitch stumbling backward. Vivian St. Claire held her hands out in self-defense, but Milli grabbed the collar of her ruffled bodice in one hand and bunched her other fist. If there was one thing she could do well, it was fight. Boston did that to a person who grew up with nothing.

“Let me tell you something. Come within a foot of my husband again, and I’ll beat you black and blue. Do you understand?”

Vivian blanched and struggled anew, trying to break free of Milli’s firm grip. “Let me go!”

“Did you sleep with him?” Milli shouted.

The woman pursed her lips and raised her chin, refusing to answer.

Milli clenched her collar tighter, making Vivian struggle to breathe. “Mess with what’s mine again, and no man will ever pay for you when I’m through with you.”

Vivian’s shoulders slumped, and she shook her head vehemently. “No, Madam. I did not sleep with him.”

“Now, I don’t care if—
what
?” Milli stared, wide-eyed. “You didn’t?”

She let the woman go as hope rose like a beacon in the darkness.

Vivian straightened and smoothed her dress. “I would’ve enjoyed a good tumble with the likes of him, but he turned me away.”

Milli smiled fit to shame the sun. “Well, he’s mine, and I guarantee I’m not a cold fish one fucking bit.” And she walked back out the door, slamming it behind her. With a victorious cry, she pumped her fist in the air.

John waited silently by the door with an expression of outright shock. “Is there anywhere else you wish to be taken, Mistress? Perhaps a boxing ring?”

Milli laughed, and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around John and hugged him. He stiffened and cleared his throat. “This is not necessary, Madam. You will cause unwanted attention—”

“He didn’t do it,” she said against his starchy coat. Tears of relief flooded her eyes.

“Didn’t do what, Madam?”

“He didn’t sleep with her.”

John chuckled and set Milli back. “Well, shucks. I knew that. I take Mr. Blackwood to all of his engagements. All you had to do was ask.”

“Take me home, please. I owe my husband an apology.”

He smiled. “Right away, Madam. I’ll have you there in a jiffy!”

* * * *

Warden should have known the happy days would come to an end. When he returned home, eager to spend the rest of his day with Millicent, Samson told him the horrible news. Without a doubt, Millicent knew about Vivian. But she did not know the whole truth. Yes, he had pursued a mistress. Yes, he had intended to use the woman for his satisfaction. Vivian St. Claire was his last resort, but he turned away, unable to slake his needs on another woman.

Perhaps he was a pansy, but a faithful pansy at least.

Defeated, he retired to his bedchamber with a bottle of scotch, intent on losing himself in spirits. He picked a particularly strong blend to keep him company tonight.

He knew that he had lost her. The woman who came here to love him would never love him now. It was his fault. The night of her birthday he should have stayed by her side. Should have held her all night the moment he realized something was wrong with her. But he was too caught up with his inner demons to think of how she must have been feeling.

If what Saska said was true, if she came from a place in the future, he wanted to know everything there was to know about it. He wanted to know what wondrous things were invented, what wars were won and lost, but most of all, he wanted Millicent to stay. He wanted her to love him, give him children, grow old with him and be happy.