Bewitching the Knight: (A Medieval Time Travel Romance) (4 page)

Samantha noticed Declan Jones—black, good-looking, confident—standing off to one side. His hands were clasped in front of him, and he puffed up like a mother hen, glowing and proud. She knew it had nothing to do with her speech, and everything to do with the way she looked. She sucked in a breath and headed down the two steps toward the impudent stylist—who’d insisted on attending.

Esme recommended the popular stylist to make Samantha look good in front of the alumni and sponsors. His idea of
good
meant plucked, waxed, and wearing twice as much make-up as a teen going to a concert. Earlier tonight he’d stuffed her into a long black dress with flowing sleeves. When they’d picked it out, she’d argued that black made her look pale; Declan insisted it made her skin glow like porcelain. Just what she’d always wanted—to look like an old kitchen sink.

But she had to admit she loved the dress. Slightly medieval in style, it fit snugly at the bustline, but was still modest and comfortable. Considering that she was headed for Scotland later to find an artifact, it also felt like she wore a secret that only she was in on.

Earlier in the week he’d taken her thick red hair out of its customary braid, gone into raptures, and colored it a
supposedly
subtle shade of red. Ha. Try
flames of the Serengeti
red. Then today, he’d forced her to wear it curled down her back. He wouldn’t budge on the hair. He claimed he was making a statement. From what she gathered during the grueling hair-coloring, then the later curling session, the statement he was going for was:
I inflict pain and misery wherever I go.
Still, she had to admit, sometime during the last four days, the guy had sort of grown on her. And, okay, she did look stunning.

Declan intercepted her, enveloping her in his arms and the fabulous scent he wore. “You did a wonderful job. You looked fantastic. Your hair caught in the light like fire. Just brilliant.” He released and cupped her elbows. “Now admit it. Because you looked so wonderful, you felt fabulous and confident, and that’s why your speech went so well.”

She reached up and touched one of the pretty butterfly clips. “Nothing to do with my degrees and experience, huh? It’s all about the clothes and hair?”

He laughed. “If only you knew how true that is.”

She smiled at him. “Go ahead and have your moment.” She tugged on a lock of her hair. “Just tell me how long it takes for this color to fade?”

“A couple of months.”

“Months?”

“And by the time it washes out, my dear, you’ll have gotten so many compliments you’ll be begging for me to color it again. Just you wait and see.”

She chuckled. She doubted she’d even have time to look in a mirror in the next couple of months. In the meantime, she had a plane to catch. “I’m sure you’re right. Thank you for your help, Declan. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

She weaved through the crowd, shaking hands and accepting congratulations. The room was at full capacity so it took her a while to push toward the door at the far end and, just when she thought she was home free, a neon red laser light skittered across the floor, attracting her attention. She glanced around to see Jerry Callahan, her colleague and nemesis, holding up a small laser attached to his key chain, moving it back and forth so it skittered across the floor like a mad glowing insect. She rolled her eyes. “Must you be such a child?”

Jerry Callahan, major irritant and effortless charmer of old ladies, smiled slyly. “I suppose you think you’re all that now, don’t you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, just because they’ve taken a sow’s ear and turned it into a silk purse for one night doesn’t make you Cinderella, now does it, darlin?’”

“Your professional jealousy is ridiculous and pathetic. If you want to give a talk to a group of our peers and sponsors, then maybe you need to have something to say. Right, darlin’?”

He gave her a tight smile. “Esme is searching for you. She probably wants to talk to you about that class you took. What was it? Oh, yes.
How to Win Friends and Influence People.
Slept through class, did you? Or did you even attend? All work and no play makes Sammi a dull, hard-to-get-along-with, coworker.”

She shot him a dirty look. “You know she hates you calling her anything but Dr. Yakima. So why do you persist? She’s going to fire you one of these days, you know.”

“Not likely. I have all the right degrees, say all the right things, and have exactly the right look.”

“Too bad all you can do is look pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty? Thank you, Dr. Ryan.” He ignored her snort, and studied her a long moment. “So, while I have your undivided attention, what are you working on? I know you’re up to something. I can tell. You always get that excited tone, and the look that on most women says they’re falling in love.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He grinned and she hated that he really was good looking. Tall, dark-haired, green-eyed, and a nice smile. His GQ face was like his superpower or something. Luckily, she was now immune. He wasn’t as intelligent as Samantha, they both knew it, and it made his mask falter around her. She was the only one who could see through him.

“Your hair looks gorgeous, by the way.” Jerry lifted a hand, stopping short of touching the strands. “It’s a shame the way you usually scrape it back into a braid. It’s the one thing about you I absolutely love. It’s nice to see it down for a change. I’d like to see it all spread out. On a bed. Over me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. Have you ever heard of sexual harassment? It looks like you should be the one to take a class.”

“What have you found, Samantha?” His tone hardened. “I know you’re onto something.”

“Whatever it is, I found it by doing intense research instead of schmoozing philanthropists.”

“You
have
found something. You just admitted it.”

She couldn’t help the smug smile. “You’re good at coming up with money? Well, I’m good at digging up truly significant historical finds. Which is more important, do you think?”

Jerry shot her a glare of sheer hatred.

Esme Yakima walked over, elegant in a short green dress and heels that showcased spectacular legs. “Children, I couldn’t help but overhear. You know the reputation of this fine institution is everything to me. I’ll not have you squabbling like spoiled brats in front of the guests. Now, if you don’t want to be sent home, permanently, then I suggest you learn to play nice.”

Samantha was indignant. “I didn’t start this, but I have a right to defend myself, don’t I?”

“You do.” Esme nodded once. “You certainly do. But do I really need to put up with this kind of behavior at the most important fundraiser of the year?”

Jerry smiled, charming, ingratiating, and managed to pull off an
aw, shucks
expression. “No, Ms. Yakima. I’m very sorry.”

Not about to be outdone, Samantha inserted, “I’m sorry too.”

“Thank you. Now Jerry, go see if you can charm Mrs. Ford out of a few more dollars for the University, will you? And Samantha, you need to go and mingle. You did a great job on your speech. Many of the sponsors want to talk with you, and you need to charm the folks reviewing your grant application. It’s time to put those classes to good work.”

Samantha tried to school her expression to one of reason and calm. “My expertise and abilities are the reasons you hired me. My ability to schmooze and charm have absolutely no bearing on my ability to do my job. I have to leave. I have somewhere to go.”

Jerry’s eyes narrowed again. He glanced at the door she’d been headed toward, the one that led to their offices. With a slight bow he wandered off to join a group of men and women who quickly made room for him, smiles all around.

Esme cleared her throat and, when she had Samantha’s full attention, leaned closer. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here and do your part.”

“I already did my part tonight.” Samantha tried for forceful, but worried she sounded whiny instead.

“No. You only did half your job. Make no mistake, you have two distinct functions.” Esme smiled at a passing guest, then turned to look up at Samantha, her brown eyes direct and serious, all hint of a smile gone. “I’ve warned you repeatedly. You need to play the game better, or we might have to give you up.”

Samantha’s mouth slackened and her eyes widened. “I can’t believe you keep threatening to fire me over this.”

Esme glanced around. “I don’t want to, but if you can’t accept your responsibilities, we’ll find someone who can.”

Samantha’s stomach clenched and she glanced away.

“I need you to mingle with the guests and get us some donations. Talk to someone from the Van Werner Foundation about the grant you’ve applied for. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you aren’t replaceable. Everyone is expendable.”

Again, Samantha tried to stay calm and reasonable. “I’ve had more findings and more papers published than anyone else here.”

“So you have. But if you didn’t have the University’s resources how would you fly all over the world? Where would you present your findings? Think about it. We need you, but you need us too.”

“These threats are based on my inability to wear the right clothes? To say the right thing? Results don’t matter?”

Esme sighed. “Of course they do. But it’s more than that and you know it. We don’t want to lose you, but you don’t
try
to play well with others. This university runs on the old school premise that you rub my back and I’ll rub yours. Rich people like to be in the know. Smart people like to have rich people give them money. You’ve got to play the game, Samantha. What if you didn’t have our resources? And where do we get those funds?” Esme held out a hand, indicating the room.

“What about my vacation?”

“That doesn’t start until tomorrow so, luckily, you’ll have plenty of time to rest up if this evening takes too much out of you. Where are you going again?”

“Just taking a break,” Samantha mumbled.

Esme studied her face.

Samantha tried not to squirm. Esme didn’t know she was headed to Scotland and Samantha’s secrecy was coming back to bite her. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She had three hours until her flight and her suitcases waited in the car. She could change at the airport if she had to. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

Esme smiled and clapped her hands twice. “Okay, that’s the attitude. Now go and play nice and get us some money.”

“If I were a man you wouldn’t be saying these things,” Samantha said darkly. “You’d place an Indiana Jones hat on my head, shove me in some khakis, and let me be on my way.”

“Don’t be so sure. Even Indiana Jones cleaned up nicely for his university job. Dress and act how you want on-site. Here, I want better.” Esme pointed across the room to where Jerry Callahan charmed an older couple. “Or do you like the fact that Jerry always wins at this?”

Samantha’s lips tightened. She knew Esme was manipulating her, but the challenge had the desired effect anyway. She could and would learn how to play the game. And if doing so upset Jerry, so much the better.

~~~

Socializing was exhausting.

Shoes in hand, Samantha headed down the hall toward her office. Her feet hurt, her mouth ached from smiling, and even her throat was sore from talking too much. She glanced over her shoulder at the deserted hallway, relieved to see no one followed. She was determined to pick up her laptop and head to the airport before anyone else waylaid her.

How did people do it?
Why
did people do it? Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, and once she’d joined in a few conversations, they’d all wanted to talk to her, shake her hand, and ask what she was working on next.

As if she’d confide in any of them.

Then there’d been the guys propositioning her. That had been fun. One guy about her own age, with sweaty hands, and an insistence that he had some fossils to show her. In his bedroom. At his mom’s house. Yeah.

And the older gentleman who’d winked at her all night and promised to fund a future expedition had been a ton of laughs too. Ugh.

She just wanted to change her shoes, get out of the dress, and head to the airport. The thought gave her a spurt of energy and excitement. She looked at her watch and realized the redeye had been a brilliant choice. With Esme watching her throughout the night, judging her performance, forcing her to stay, an earlier flight time would have been a disaster.

As she walked down the darkened hallway and approached her office, she could see a line of light underneath the door. She was so methodical in her routine when leaving the office that she’d never left the lights on before. But what with this trip to Scotland coming up, she supposed she might have forgotten.

She dug the office key out of her dress pocket, inserted it into the deadbolt, twisted, and was startled to realize the door was already unlocked.

She pushed the door open—to see
Jerry,
hunkered over her desk, studying her laptop, which had been packed away in her rolling computer bag, against the wall next to her purse.

It took her about one second to realize what was going on, and, with a scream of fury, she threw her high heels at him— hitting his head and shoulder—rushed her desk, and slammed the laptop shut. She might have laughed at Jerry’s slack-faced expression, if she hadn’t been killing angry.
“You filthy piece of slime!
How dare you. How did you get in here? How did—”

A squeak of dismay had Samantha swinging her head to see her secretary, Courtney, frozen in the chair next to the door. When Samantha had charged into the room, she hadn’t seen her. Her hand still firmly pressed on her laptop, Samantha took a deep breath and glared at the younger woman whose red lipstick was smeared to a lighter shade around the edges of her mouth. “Well, that answers that, doesn’t it? You’re fired.”

“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

As Courtney sputtered apologies, Samantha turned back to Jerry and focused on his own lipstick-smeared mouth. “Seducing my secretary to gain access to my work? Tsk, tsk, Jerry. As much as Esme likes you, even
she
won’t overlook outright thievery. You are so going to be toast over this. Let’s see you charm your way out of this one.”