Wherever You Are (22 page)

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Authors: Sharon Cullen

BOOK: Wherever You Are
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He pulled her down the short hall and pointed to closed doors. “The sitting room, the library and the study,” he said, indicating each door in turn. “I usually use the study when I’m in town and keep the other rooms closed but you can open them up if you like. The kitchen is in the back. I do have a housekeeper who comes in while I’m in residence. She cooks too, but she doesn’t stay here.”

Juliana looked at the high ceilings, the marble floor, the small table that in her time would be a pricey antique, and the lit wall sconces. “How did you get used to it all?” she whispered. She’d been here just a few weeks and she still woke up in the mornings disoriented.

He shrugged. “A little at a time, I guess. Mainly I spend my time on the ships where I feel the most comfortable. City life isn’t my thing as Isabelle probably told you. That’s why there are no servants.”

Was he going to keep sailing now that they were married? Was he planning to take her with him? She had no desire to be stuck alone in London while Morgan sailed back and forth to America on the Parkers’ ships yet she didn’t know what she wanted to do with this new life. Morgan told her a little of Isabelle’s problems. The woman was a genius when it came to sailing and shipping, but was ostracized by the leaders of the industry because she was a woman.

Juliana wanted to be more than the lady of the house, yet truthfully she hadn’t thought past the wedding. Now that it was over her questions hovered around her. What now?

But she didn’t voice them. This was their wedding night and she wasn’t going to ruin it with her anxieties.

Morgan looked down at her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today? When you opened the door to the library and I saw you standing there…” His voice trailed away and he shook his head as if he couldn’t go on.

He didn’t have to say more. She knew. Tears popped into her eyes and she quickly brushed them away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is lately. I usually never cry.”

“It’s been a long day and you haven’t exactly been in your element lately. I should say I’m sorry, but right now I can’t be sorry for something that brought you back into my life.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Ah, Juliana. You have no idea what your presence means to me.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I think I do,” she whispered. “All these years I’ve waited and everyone said I shouldn’t. They told me to give up on you and I wouldn’t.”

“You should have. You had every right to.” His voice trailed away and she shook her head.

“I couldn’t. I must have known. Deep down I must have known.” She squeezed him.

He tilted her head up and kissed her. “I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he said against her lips.

“What’re you waiting for?”

He groaned, grabbed her hand and hurried her back through the hall and into the entryway. The stairs were spiraled, made of solid, dark wood with a thick covering of carpet. “We could do it right here,” she said breathlessly. “On the steps.”

Morgan stumbled, fell forward and had to catch himself on a step. He groaned and hung his head. “Good Lord, Juliana. Warn me next time you’re going to say something like that.”

She shrugged. “Just saying.”

He chuckled and tugged on her hand again. “Maybe later. Right now I want you on a bed without the ocean beneath us.”

“I kinda liked the rocking of the ocean.”

He groaned and tugged harder. They were practically running up the steps now. The hallway was dark, lit only by a few candles. Halfway down, Morgan pushed open a door. Juliana knew this room well. She sat here for hours waiting for him to wake up from his drinking binge. There was nothing remarkable about his bedchamber other than the fact it was in the eighteenth century, but knowing Morgan slept here made it special.

He bent her backward and lowered her to the bed while her feet stayed on the floor.

She loved the feel of him. Loved the hard contours of his body, the silk of his hair as it fell across her and created an erotic tent around them. She ran her hands through his hair and he smiled down at her.

“I love you, Morgan.”

“I know.” His voice was husky. “I’m not sure why or how I deserve this but I know. I love you too, Juliana.”

His erection pushed into her but he didn’t move, even though she saw the need in his eyes and felt the tightly coiled muscles holding him back. She touched his face. “Make love to me,” she whispered.

“I will. I just… Right now I want to look.” His fingers skimmed the line of her jaw. “Sometimes I still don’t believe.”

She smiled. “I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

He shook his head as if he didn’t quite believe it either. Only time would convince him and she had all the time in the world.

He kissed her mouth but when she raised her head, eager for more, he drew away to kiss her chin, her jaw, the sensitive spot below her ear that made her gasp. “Damn gowns,” he muttered and she laughed. Definitely the attire of the day made it harder to undress in moments like this.

“The buttons are in the back,” she said.

“I know.”

She tried to roll over to give him access but he held her down and simply but efficiently raised her skirts. The cool air felt good on her legs but his large, calloused hands felt even better. She shivered as he lightly stroked the inside of her thigh and she let her knees fall open.

If the female wore more clothes than seemed possible, the male wore just as many. Morgan pulled away for a moment to shrug out of his coat and vest, except they weren’t called a coat and vest. At the moment she didn’t give a damn what they were called as long as he was free of them. With trembling hands, she pulled his shirt over his head exposing the golden skin of his torso. She unbuttoned his breeches. Her hands brushed against his engorged erection and he sucked in a breath. When the last button was released, he cock sprang forward into her hand and she wrapped her fingers around him. Morgan groaned and dropped his head. Sweat was already beading on his shoulders and his hips thrust forward. He threw his head back, pumping into her hand. She watched the play of emotion on his face as she squeezed, then stroked, squeezed, then stroked. His breath came fast, jagged. The skin around his eyes tightened and he gasped.

“Enough,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

She released her hold and ran her fingers down his leg. Goose bumps followed in her path.

He stroked her thigh, coming closer and closer to her center. Juliana moved so he would touch her but his fingers danced away, teased by coming back for a light touch, then disappeared again.

“Morgan,” she gasped.

“In time, love. In time.”

Her hips bucked and she whipped her head to the side, grasping handfuls of the bedclothes. His hands were on her hips, on the sides of her legs, one cupped her mound and she pushed her hips into it and gasped. “Yes.”

“Not yet.”

She groaned. “You’re torturing me.”

His smile was wicked, predatory. Exactly the type of smile she would expect from a pirate.

“Please,” she whispered. “Now.”

He placed a knee on the bed and climbed up until he was straddling her. His erection swayed and she licked her lips, wanting it, needing it like she’d never needed anything before.

He stroked it between her legs and she moaned, arching her back in a silent plea. Another stroke and another until pressure built inside her. And then he slid in. She was wet, ready. It was an effortless joining. Their gazes locked. He caressed her cheek and she put her hand over his.

“I know,” she whispered. They’d made love before, numerous times on the ship, but this was different. This time she knew who he was. They were married. They would never be apart again.

Morgan blinked. It could have been the light cast by the fire but she could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

He moved slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Never changing his tempo, keeping a steady pace. He held himself up but the tendons in his neck bulged and his arm muscles strained with the effort. Juliana ground her hips into his, bringing him deeper. He gasped and increased his pace. The pressure inside her built every time he drove himself home. She made little sounds, unable to stop herself until her muscles contracted around him and she cried out.

Morgan pumped harder, pushing her into the bed until the ropes beneath squeaked and he threw his head back and groaned. She felt him pulse inside her as he came, felt each contraction and clamped down on him, milking out every last bit.

 

Juliana lay next to Morgan, her head nestled in the crook of his arm. The night was clear and a slight breeze blew through the opened window. A while ago Morgan rose and blew out the candles, leaving the fire as their only light. They both undressed before climbing beneath the bedclothes.

A gust of wind raced down the chimney. Flames flared to life. The fire crackled and popped, grew bigger then settled. For a moment she flashed back to the fire on the
Molly Victoria
. What would have happened if Morgan hadn’t found her? Not for the first time she had the feeling that fate had a hand in all of this.

“Tell me about the mirror.” Juliana wriggled closer to him and waited, understanding he needed time to sort through his thoughts.

“‘The weight of true love is measured not in distance nor in time, but in deed’,” he said softly.

“‘Look ye into this mirror and find what ye seek. Step through and discover yer heart’s desire’,” she finished.

Stay, and live a lifetime.
Unspoken between them lay the last line.

He was right. He wasn’t the same person now as he’d been then. She saw very little of Zach in Morgan and it was Morgan she was in love with more than ever. And truly she was okay with not going back—well, except for missing some modern conveniences like a washer and dryer and her Chi flat iron.

“I don’t know how it works,” he said. “I just know it’s some sort of portal to the past.”

“Why is it in your parents’ house?”

The clip-clop of horse’s hooves drifted through the open window and the faint smell of manure and spring floated on the air. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the smell of animals on the streets. “It’s my mother’s,” he said. “She’s… Well, she’s not from the twenty-first century.”

“What do you mean not from the twenty-first century?”

She thought of Emily Langtree, the woman who was more a mother to her than the woman who’d given birth to her.

“She was born in Kansas. In the nineteenth century.”

A few beats of silence passed. “You’re saying you come from a family of time-travelers.” She couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice even if she was one of those time travelers.

“My mother is. My father is a modern man, through and through.”

“The police said you ran away and your parents just accepted it. I was so angry they would even think you would do something like that. But they knew. All along they knew.” They all had known. Emily, Zach’s father, his sister, Molly. And they never told her.

“It’s not something you just blurt out to someone.”

“No. I suppose not.” She felt numb and angry, although she knew the anger was misplaced. Morgan was right. It wasn’t as if Emily could have pulled her aside and said not to worry, that Zach was off having some adventure in another time.

“How long did you know about the mirror before you stepped through it?”

“She told me the night I left. I was going to turn eighteen the next week and it was customary to pass the…keeping of the mirror on to the next generation at that age. Fine job I did of it, huh?” He sounded disgusted with himself, as if he failed his family. Was that yet another reason he wouldn’t go back?

Discussing Zach’s departure was like opening old wounds she thought had healed but in actuality were as raw as the day she discovered he was gone. It was worse now, knowing everyone kept the true reason from her. She was angry at his mother for putting such a burden on her son, for tempting him to do something rash and irrevocable. She had to have known the lure of adventure would call to him and yet she still told him.

And he had gone.

As if sensing her thoughts, Morgan’s arms tightened around her. “Part of me didn’t believe her. I went upstairs to look at it. But then it began to do weird things.”

“The glass kind of shifted. Swirled.”

She felt his head move in a nod. “I remember wanting to touch it and the next thing I knew I wasn’t in the attic anymore but at the edge of some woods. Immediately I turned to go back, but the mirror wasn’t there.”

They’d been so young but thought they were so mature with their dreams of college and marriage.

“I’m sorry, Juliana. For fifteen years I’ve wanted to apologize and suddenly the words don’t seem enough.”

Her gaze shifted from the fire and landed on a cutlass propped in the corner. She remembered that cutlass. Remembered holding it as Morgan slept off his binge. Remembered fantasizing about putting it to his throat when he woke up just to scare him because she’d been so angry. In her time cutlasses weren’t propped anywhere and she definitely would have never thought of hurting someone with one. She’d come a long way.

“Maybe it had to happen this way,” she said. “Maybe it was meant to be. You and me in this century.” At seventeen years old Zach had been everything to her. Maybe, in order for her to grow up, she needed to live without him so she could appreciate the person he became.

 

“Tell me about my family,” Morgan said toward dawn.

They’d slept off and on and made love more than they slept. Juliana’s body was tired but her mind was going full tilt. This was still so new and it seemed every time she thought they’d run out of things to talk about Morgan would ask her another question or kiss her in just the right spot.

“I don’t know too much,” she admitted. “We parted ways when I went off to college.”

“Why?”

She tried to form the right words to express that horrible time after Zach’s disappearance. “It was difficult after you left.” Earlier he asked how she’d dealt with his leaving and she told him she went on to college and became the journalist she always dreamed of becoming. “Emily kept telling me to let it go and I would get so angry at her. Of course now I understand it was because they knew what happened and it wasn’t as if they could tell the police. In a way the police wrapped it up nicely for them.”

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