never forget you,” I said.
“I won’t forget you, either.” He went quiet. Then he said, “Be well, Vanessa.”
“I’m trying.” But being well was difficult for me. To combat my sadness over leaving him, I slipped my arms around his neck.
He nuzzled my hair, the way D uncan often did. “You better get going.”
I didn’t ask how I was supposed to travel to the future. I knew that all I had to do was imagine being there.
“Goodbye,” I said softly against his ear.
“Bye.” He spoke gently, too, his body warm against mine.
Before I did something stupid, like told him that I loved him, I squeezed my eyes shut, envisioning myself in the next realm.
And letting him go .
Chapter Eight
I landed on the lush, green grounds of the mansion I’d told Seven about . I spied it in the distance, and it definitely looked like a mini-castle, with its ornate stone structure and Romanesque details.
I took a moment to catch my breath, then walked slowly toward it. My mixed-up mind was still on the warrior I’d left on the present realm. I’d fallen for him, just as I’d fallen for Duncan. The past warrior remained in my thoughts, too. No doubt this one would sweep me into his world, as well.
And what a world.
As I got closer to the mansion, I dusted the daisy-meadow dirt from my jeans, wishing I fit more elegantly into the environment. If I could choose my wardrobe, I would be wearing a long, tiered gown, draped in white organza and decorated with a jeweled bodice. My shoes would be a pair of white satin pumps.
I could easily see myself like that: my pale blonde hair swirled in a sexy up-do, my makeup expertly applied.
Heaving a sigh, I dusted my jeans once again.
I reache d the courtyard, where two reflecting pools were located, the luminous water surrounded by colorful stonework. Duncan loved architecture, and it was evident in the way he’d designed this place in his painting.
I knelt down and gazed into one of the reflecting pools.
Then suddenly, my appearance changed. Within the blink of an eye, I was wearing the gorgeous gown and fancy shoes I’d conjured in my mind. My hair and makeup were flawless, too. I was even fitted with lacy new undergarments. I knew they were there even if I couldn’t see them.
I st ood up and spun around, feeling like a princess on her way to a ball. Or a bride en route to the altar. A bride? I had no business thinking along those lines.
Struggling to take control of my emotions, I stopped spinning. This was nothing more than a fantasy.
A fantasy designed to keep Duncan alive, I reminded myself. No matter how delusional I was, this experience mattered.
Still, it wasn’t my wedding day, and I would do well to remember that.
I moved away from the reflecting pools and approached the three-story mansion. It didn’t have a main door. Instead, it presented narrow passageways and an array of intricately carved doors. I already knew that it was built that way because of Duncan’s painting, but now that I was here, I had no idea which door to use.
In the real world, Duncan was an artist, but he made his living as a locksmith . He’d been obsessed with breaking into buildings when he was living on the streets, picking locks for amusement. Luckily, he’d never been caught, paving the way for a more productive use of his skills.
But that didn’t help me with my current dilemma .
While wandering in and out of the passageways, searching for a door that felt right, a self-conscious chill worked its way down my spine. I sensed that the warrior was behind me.
I turned in his direction, the filmy tiers of my elegant gown swishing, my heart pounding beneath its jeweled bodice.
Holy handso me hell.
Attired in a tailored shirt and tuxedo-style pants, he stood tall and formal, looking ever so much like a husband to my bride. All he needed was a jacket, a tie, and a white rose boutonniere.
His eyes burned dark and intense, and his hair was slicked straight back,
“I won’t forget you, either.” He went quiet. Then he said, “Be well, Vanessa.”
“I’m trying.” But being well was difficult for me. To combat my sadness over leaving him, I slipped my arms around his neck.
He nuzzled my hair, the way D uncan often did. “You better get going.”
I didn’t ask how I was supposed to travel to the future. I knew that all I had to do was imagine being there.
“Goodbye,” I said softly against his ear.
“Bye.” He spoke gently, too, his body warm against mine.
Before I did something stupid, like told him that I loved him, I squeezed my eyes shut, envisioning myself in the next realm.
And letting him go .
Chapter Eight
I landed on the lush, green grounds of the mansion I’d told Seven about . I spied it in the distance, and it definitely looked like a mini-castle, with its ornate stone structure and Romanesque details.
I took a moment to catch my breath, then walked slowly toward it. My mixed-up mind was still on the warrior I’d left on the present realm. I’d fallen for him, just as I’d fallen for Duncan. The past warrior remained in my thoughts, too. No doubt this one would sweep me into his world, as well.
And what a world.
As I got closer to the mansion, I dusted the daisy-meadow dirt from my jeans, wishing I fit more elegantly into the environment. If I could choose my wardrobe, I would be wearing a long, tiered gown, draped in white organza and decorated with a jeweled bodice. My shoes would be a pair of white satin pumps.
I could easily see myself like that: my pale blonde hair swirled in a sexy up-do, my makeup expertly applied.
Heaving a sigh, I dusted my jeans once again.
I reache d the courtyard, where two reflecting pools were located, the luminous water surrounded by colorful stonework. Duncan loved architecture, and it was evident in the way he’d designed this place in his painting.
I knelt down and gazed into one of the reflecting pools.
Then suddenly, my appearance changed. Within the blink of an eye, I was wearing the gorgeous gown and fancy shoes I’d conjured in my mind. My hair and makeup were flawless, too. I was even fitted with lacy new undergarments. I knew they were there even if I couldn’t see them.
I st ood up and spun around, feeling like a princess on her way to a ball. Or a bride en route to the altar. A bride? I had no business thinking along those lines.
Struggling to take control of my emotions, I stopped spinning. This was nothing more than a fantasy.
A fantasy designed to keep Duncan alive, I reminded myself. No matter how delusional I was, this experience mattered.
Still, it wasn’t my wedding day, and I would do well to remember that.
I moved away from the reflecting pools and approached the three-story mansion. It didn’t have a main door. Instead, it presented narrow passageways and an array of intricately carved doors. I already knew that it was built that way because of Duncan’s painting, but now that I was here, I had no idea which door to use.
In the real world, Duncan was an artist, but he made his living as a locksmith . He’d been obsessed with breaking into buildings when he was living on the streets, picking locks for amusement. Luckily, he’d never been caught, paving the way for a more productive use of his skills.
But that didn’t help me with my current dilemma .
While wandering in and out of the passageways, searching for a door that felt right, a self-conscious chill worked its way down my spine. I sensed that the warrior was behind me.
I turned in his direction, the filmy tiers of my elegant gown swishing, my heart pounding beneath its jeweled bodice.
Holy handso me hell.
Attired in a tailored shirt and tuxedo-style pants, he stood tall and formal, looking ever so much like a husband to my bride. All he needed was a jacket, a tie, and a white rose boutonniere.
His eyes burned dark and intense, and his hair was slicked straight back,
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