Authors: Loni Lynne
“Do you want him to have the land?” James asked.
“I don’t know. This job has me at odds with myself. I was hired to do a job but I hate to see historical lands and resources used for anything but history. Kings Mill site would be a beneficial historical landmark. I’m not sure it should be used for another housing or business development. The meaning of the area would lose something in translation.
“But he’s also able to bring employment into the county. With the economy in a slump lately, it would be a good venture for the job market. That’s a risk. I’m unsure which way it should go. In the meantime, I’m doing the job I was hired to do or trying to.”
By the third glass of wine April wasn’t sure if it was the atmosphere or the wine making her warm and content. The warmth from the fire behind them could be part of it but she was positive it had more to do with James. They lulled into a comfortable silence as the last of the food and wine were consumed. She didn’t want to move and lose this moment in time. Sitting with James was a dream, one she didn’t want to wake up from. If a man could be perfect, this would be him.
“What are you thinking, Dr. April Branford?” His smile and deep tenor hit her sensual mode.
“I’m thinking how I wish you would call me just plain April.”
“You wish me to speak with you on intimate terms?”
“This is 2012, James. We don’t stand on formality as you did back in the 1700’s.”
Watching him slowly swallow the last sip of his wine, his throat worked reflexively against the collar of his shirt, sending liquid heat to pool in her core. All she could think of was him sipping on her. How could something as simple as watching him drink be so seductive?
James was bold, dark masculinity. He worked the land and managed field hands, yet here he sat, larger than life, holding a crystal goblet so delicately in his hand. She envied the bowl of the glass, wishing it were her breast being gently cupped in the large, warm hand.
“Perhaps it is better to keep formal. You do realize it has been over two centuries since I’ve been intimate with a woman?”
“I’m well aware of the separation of time, James.” Her voice sounded like a husky echo in her head. She was playing with fire. She was on fire.
“And you think I’m immune to your charms? Do not think for one moment your beauty and sensual appeal are not affecting me, April Branford. Your eyes tell me far too much.”
Grinning into her hand she rested her chin on the table. “Well, it’s a start. I guess April Branford is better than Dr. Branford.” She laughed.
Neither one had time to commit to a relationship. Hell, she didn’t even know how long James had on Earth. She was still so clueless about her natural abilities and what kind of power it held. Perhaps she was moving too fast. Maybe it was the wine and candlelight making her giddy and warm in places not warmed before.
April needed a distraction to separate herself from the atmosphere to find out. She could do so by clearing the dishes. Standing, her legs wobbled as she went to remove his plate. The wine had made her body soft and distorted her equilibrium. Beginning to fall, James quickly stood and caught her in his arms.
Warm breath laced with sweet wine cascaded over her jaw. He was so close. His hands came up, cupping her chin and jaw with the touch of an intimate lover. James’s brow furrowed as he studied her lips before dipping in to place a soft simple kiss. Just a touch, but it wasn’t enough for her. She needed all of him.
This was supposed to be a simple kiss to see if her lips were as soft and sweet as they looked. Hadn’t he just told her it had been two centuries since his last contact with a woman? Did she think he could resist her? He needed to kiss her like he needed his next breath and God help him—it had been a long time since breathing or kissing.
But the simple kiss never came. At first touch, her lips opened in a gasp and he was lost to her taste and the life she gave to his dead senses. Like the day she brought him physically to life, his body ached as need pierced needles of pleasure through him. With one hand, she tugged lightly at his hair as her other caressed his jaw. She gave herself to his kiss like no woman ever had.
She was a feast to a famished man. The minx gave her all and when her tongue darted past his lips to joust with his, the shock of such an intimate tryst nearly brought him to his knees. He cupped her head in his hand, feeling the soft silk of her curls surrounding his fingers as he tasted the wine on her tongue. Her body pressed intimately against him and he knew then, if he hadn’t before, every part of his body was alive.
James let the fight of good intentions go to hell. She was soft and pliant to his hard, aching desire. He forgot everything except for the feel of this ‘life-giving’ woman pressed against him as she gave her heat, surrounding him in her essence.
The buttons on his collar slowly slipped from their holes. April’s fingers released the tight constricting material until his entire chest was bare to the cool air. Her hands skimmed over his skin, and as she nibbled at his lower lip, he sucked in his breath. The warmth of her hands sent shivers coursing through to his soul. Her lips left his to trail heated kisses over his jaw, his throat and down to his collar bones. All James could do was hold on for dear life. Good intentions were pushed to the furthest recesses of his brain. When her fingers slid around his ribs to caress the naked skin of his back, James stopped thinking. He needed this woman!
The only thought he had was to undress her. His heart said to go slowly, like savoring a wrapped gift, peeking at every detail. But his libido demanded fast and furious. The two warred with each other, fighting for dominance. Groaning, he settled for taking it slow and letting her set the pace. His hands unclasped her hair clip and let her hair fall. He gathered it up in his hands, let it cascade over his fingers. God, he’d wanted to do this since their first meeting.
He tugged her hair back, just a brief pull to test the waters. Did she want slow and easy or wild, uncontrolled passion? Her head came up under the pressure of his fingers, fire smoldering in her eyes like green flame. The passionate fire was what he’d craved to see. Her soft gasp told him one thing, she wanted this as much as he did. Wildness hid under the timid, scholarly woman, and he wanted to see her in all her glory. Before he could take the lead, her mouth joined his again with a ferocity setting his heart to knock in his chest.
Was someone at the door? He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to carry this woman to the nearest bed and make love to her so passionately neither would be able to move for days.
No, it’s only my heart beating against my rib cage. Don’t stop.
But the beating became louder and it wasn’t the same sound he heard in his chest. Someone was knocking on the door. Parting from their heated embrace, he groaned. Catching his breath was difficult.
“Someone is at the door.”
April stepped out of his arms and tucking her hair behind her ears, gave him a quick, sad smile for having their moment interrupted. She looked ravished. Her hair and clothes were disheveled. Was she as unsteady as he was? Silently he damned whoever was at the door. Perhaps whoever it was would get the hint with their wild appearance and move on quickly. Nothing would please him more than to enjoy this woman thoroughly from head to toe. The knocking became more intense and was followed by a rapid series of shrill ringing from the old fashioned door bell. “Coming! Who is it?” April called out.
James righted himself and tucked his shirt back into his slacks. He saw a worried, almost apologetic look pass over her features as she opened the door. Immediately April was embraced by an elderly woman in a bright orange outfit.
“Oh, sweetie, I knew you had it in you! Didn’t I tell you, Virginia? It was just a matter of time before our April would show her true talents.”
April gave a small smile. “Hello, Grams. Hello, Mom.”
Another woman, one younger who looked a bit like April, gave her a brief hug. But this woman was more reserved and didn’t seem as flamboyant as the older one.
“So, is this your ghost?”
James wasn’t sure what to do as April’s mother circled him taking him in as if he were on display. Her eyes were accessing and skeptical, not only of him though. April was being equally scrutinized by her mother. James stood staunchly by April’s side, almost defying her mother to say anything derogatory against their appearance.
“Oh dear, Ginny,” April’s grandmother giggled, after a quick perusal of their appearance. “I think we interrupted April’s paranormal investigation.”
James took a few moments to clear his conscience. The women’s arrival couldn’t have been timed better. If it wasn’t for them he would no doubt be ravishing April on the hard wood floor. He wasn’t sure what he should do now.
April had nervously introduced him to her grandmother, Dorothea, or Grandma Dottie as April called her, who seemed delighted with their indelicate tryst. Her mother, Virginia, well, he’d seen over-protective fathers with kinder eyes. She’d critically assessed, not saying anything. She was much too quiet for his likes. He could deal with a woman’s ranting but not her silence. He quietly slipped away to the kitchen to prepare another tray of food for the new arrivals. He couldn’t fault April’s mother, the woman was right to question his motives—hell, he wasn’t even sure what his motives were.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way back to the parlor. “…You don’t know anything about this man. You’ve only known him for a few days and he’s a ghost to boot, and here you are sleeping with him!”
Well, April’s mother hadn’t remained silent for long.
James placed the tray in front of their guests. Virginia Branford stopped talking immediately as they all looked up at him. April appeared a bit out of sorts. He easily made his decision and sat in the empty chair facing the women. A gentleman wouldn’t leave an innocent to handle a social injustice by his hand. April didn’t deserve the implications her mother laid on her shoulders.
“Mrs. Branford, I must intervene. Your daughter knows me more than anyone else has ever cared to know me in over two-hundred years, possibly before then. I may have been a ghost a few days ago, but your daughter brought me to life. I think God has a reason for it, but as of yet we aren’t quite sure what His plans are. As for our sleeping arrangements, I can assure you, until I ask her father’s permission for her hand in marriage, her virtue will remain intact.”
Grandma Dottie coughed slightly into her hand as she raised a questioning eyebrow at her granddaughter. Virginia Branford snorted, taking the glass of milk he offered.
April deserved no less. As he said the words aloud, he realized he meant them. She wasn’t a trollop to be dallied with when his needs required fulfilling. She was a woman a man made a future with. Until he knew how much time he had in this realm, he couldn’t offer her more than his gratitude. What happened between them earlier would never be able to go any further.
Color heightened in April’s cheeks as she glared at him. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, James. I’m old enough to do as I please without asking permission from my family.”
“You are a young woman without the guidance and protection of a man. Your reputation is at stake.” Did she not realize as wonderful and odd as this situation was between them, she was still a single woman in the company of a historically known rake? Having her name bandied about in public gatherings because of their living arrangements could be misconstrued and harmful to her ethical and professional life.
“This happens to be 2012, James. Your archaic ideals went out when my grandmother burned her bra at Woodstock in the 1960’s!”
Dottie cleared her throat. “Actually, I burned my bra at a sit-in while I was protesting in Washington D.C., dear. Woodstock was a music fest. Your uncle was conceived there. For the record, I wasn’t wearing a bra.”
James turned his attention to Dottie, whose casual smile intrigued him. The older woman seemed quite forward and didn’t have any qualms about how she spoke.
April’s distress was vivid. With her face buried in her hands, she mumbled something about, “this is not the time, Grams”.
Virginia stood abruptly. “Can we just get to the bottom of what is happening? I’m not pleased with this one bit and you know it, Mother! I’ve dreaded the day April would find her gift. Contrary to popular belief, Dorothea Evans, not all of us wish this atrocity on our off-spring. This is not a rite of passage like adolescence…”
“If I remember correctly, Ginny, you botched that up for the poor girl, too. A bottle of Midol, a health center book,
You and Your Body,
and your copy of,
Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret,
does not prepare a young girl for womanhood! I ended up being the one to show her how to dress a cucumber!”
April stood to leave. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”
Confused, James looked from one woman to another. He noticed a shade of color highlighting April’s cheeks and throat in embarrassment. Dressing a cucumber? What did preparing vegetables have to do with womanhood? Was it a delicacy of sorts a woman ate to bring her fertility?
“Where are you going, young lady?” her mother addressed her.
“Anywhere but here!” April turned back to her mother, annoyance written in her face. She picked up her dirty dishes. “When you and Grams are ready to stop talking about my sex life, then I might consider discussing things.” She put the dishes back down carefully. “I managed to bring a ghost to life and all you two can do is argue and degrade each other.
I need answers
!
“I don’t even know why Aunt Vickie called you. You two are always bickering about your gifts. I’ve dreaded the day my gift arrived because of this very reason! Maybe I hoped things would change if I really needed your guidance…like now.”
The room fell silent. James remained where he sat, uncertain how to respond. The air was filled with heavy emotion. He assumed April was embarrassed by the debacle between the women in her family and their rituals for preparing for womanhood. Her dire need to get answers from the women she loved and respected showed in her stress. The reality dawned on him right then, she really didn’t know how she brought him to life or the consequences of her actions.
“Oh, dear. I suppose this is a bit over-board for you, April,” her grandmother soothed. “Virginia, we are being a bit much. And James doesn’t need to see our dirty laundry being aired. Let’s all take a cleansing breath and clear our minds so we can focus on what’s important.”
James took a deep breath as did Dottie, but the other two women rolled their eyes and sighed with acceptance.
“Now, can I explain what’s happened? I need your help and guidance on what I did and what I need to do. But under no circumstances will there be any more bickering or references to my sex life…or yours, Grams. Understood?”
***
“So tell us what happened when you resurrected James?” Her grandmother asked, reaching for the last piece of date bread on the tray.
April tried to explain everything that had happened between her and James since they’d met. The details to the ghostly encounter at Henry’s tombstone were a bit convoluted as she’d been mostly in shock. Even her explanation of what happened when she’d gone to James’s grave wasn’t clear.
Her grandmother listened intently. “So you didn’t realize, even when Vickie told you you’d taken a picture of James—that you’d been talking to a ghost?” She sighed as she rolled her eyes towards her daughter. “She’s more like you than I wanted her to be, Virginia.”
“He didn’t seem ‘ghostly.’ He was more solid than a wispy apparition in an old haunted house, kind of ghost,” April defended herself.