One Magic Moment(42)
Author: Lynn Kurland

 

What he ate for lunch, he couldn’t have said. He consumed it without haste, but without tasting it, either—which could have been considered a good thing given its prepackaged nature. He was too busy watching Tess. She looked up from the notes she was making in the guidebook, froze, then blushed.

 

“Stop that.”

 

“I’m not bolting,” he pointed out.

 

She took a deep breath. “What are you doing, then?”

 

“Looking.”

 

“And?”

 

He took his own deep breath. “Liking very much what I see.”

 

She pushed the guidebook toward him. “I’m going to go powder my nose.”

 

He watched her bolt—a novel occurrence in and of itself—and studied the book in front of him. It was interesting, but it was suddenly quite a bit less interesting than the sensation he suddenly had.

 

That he was being watched.

 

He would have said being aware of that was a habit he’d developed in the current century, but the truth was, the instinct was purely medieval. Learned from his father, honed by his brothers, perfected by himself in skirmishes he truly preferred not to think on.

 

Odd how that sort of thing came in handy in the present day.

 

He continued to feign interest in the book, but he was in truth taking note of everyone in the little outdoor seating area and wondering why he’d been stupid enough not to have done the like sooner. He saw nothing untoward, not even when he stretched and then used the excuse to carry the remains of their lunch to the rubbish bin to have a closer look around.

 

There were none in the little outdoor patio but a handful of tourists brave enough to venture out into the cold and a pair of pensioners and their wives no doubt determined to have their money’s worth from their Trust pass.

 

“John?”

 

He was certain he’d jumped, but he ignored it. He turned around and smiled at Tess. “Nothing.”

 

“I didn’t ask you if it was something,” she said slowly.

 

He took her hand. “Let’s go find a darkened corner, shall we? Perhaps in the garden where we won’t be pestered. I believe I have some sort of business with you that doesn’t involve paneling and creaking wooden floors.”

 

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t well on the way to it.

 

He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Let’s walk, if you don’t mind. I’m restless.”

 

“Sure,” she said easily.

 

He kept her hand in his, partly because he liked holding it and partly to keep her close enough to him that he could protect her if need be, though from what he couldn’t have said. A disgruntled employee who’d watched them peer too closely at a sixteenth-century relic?

 

“I forgot my purse,” Tess said suddenly. “I’ll run back—”

 

“I’ll come with you,” he said without hesitation. He put on a soothing smile. “Because I want to.”

 

“Whatever you say,” she said, giving him that look again that said very clearly she wasn’t at all confident in his hold on reality.

 

He wasn’t about to explain himself. He simply walked quickly back to the loo with her, then waited for her whilst she went inside. She came back sooner than he’d expected, but empty-handed. He frowned.

 

“Find it?”

 

“No,” she said slowly, “it was gone.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t anything in it. Five quid and some lip gloss.”

 

“No identification?”

 

“I thought they could just look me up in Burke’s Peerage if they needed to,” she said lightly, but she seemed a little unsettled.

 

He was, too, actually.

 

“John.”

 

He realized he wasn’t paying her any heed. He had also pulled her behind him, which he hadn’t realized he’d done until he’d been forced to turn around and look at her. “Aye?”

 

“You’re acting a little suspiciously.”

 

He blinked. “Do you think I nicked your purse?”

 

“Of course not,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “I’m just wondering why it is that you seem to be looking over your shoulder.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You are. You also keep pulling me behind you.”

 

“I’m trying to keep you out of the sights of those Trust busybodies.”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

He swore, because it was a bad habit, then took her hand. “I’m just wondering if that lad who tried to kiss you in your passageway might have been a little more irritated than he let on at my instruction.”

 

She looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“John, maybe you just don’t look in the mirror often enough, but if I were a jerk you’d come close to punching, I don’t think I would be coming back for a second helping.”

 

He put his arm around her and sighed. If she only knew just how dangerous a time she lived in. At least in the thirteen century, he could have protected her with a sword. Now, what was he to do? Swear and hope for the best?

 

“I might have an overactive imagination,” he conceded, finally.

 

“And where did you come by that?”

 

“My misspent youth,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to elaborate. He kept his arm around her shoulders and walked with her back to his car. He opened the door for her, saw her inside, then shut the door and took a minute or two to look around him.

 

There was nothing.

 

He considered, then walked around to the driver’s side and slid under the wheel. He started up the Vanquish, half expecting it to explode, then sat back and let out a long, slow breath.

 

“John, you’re starting to make me nervous.”

 

He looked at her and smiled briefly. “Not enough sleep last night. Not to worry.” He paused. “Would you mind if I did come and stir sauce for you tonight?”

 

She studied him in silence for a moment or two. His first instinct was to either deflect her obvious curiosity or shift uncomfortably. He chose to do neither. He was a knight of the realm, after all, and beyond squirming. Hedging, however, was another thing entirely, and he fully intended to engage in it when he’d caught his breath.