Timeless Love (4 page)

He took her into his bedroom. The room
consisted of a large bed with two piles of books on the floor.
Oh my. He reads
. She clamped her mouth shut before she said
something that would insult him. How could she have thought this
man to be a simpleton?

Joey reached for her hand and again she felt a
flicker of flame. No other man's touch affected her like this.
However, in her time a man would not touch a woman in such a
forward way. He led her back out to his tiny parlor.

"This is my prized possession. A Clairtone G3.
The stereo cost me close to four hundred bucks, but to me it was
worth every penny. It's a record player and it plays
music."

Bucks?
She shook her head in
confusion.

Catherine loved music, but in her small
village musicales were few and far between. The only time she could
attend one was at her aunt's home or when her family went to stay
at their townhouse in Truro for the season. Joey held up a flat
round disc and then placed the strange looking object on the
player. She gasped aloud as rich, vibrating sound filled the room.
Music came from the small round orbs Joey called 'speakers'.
Oh
my.
It was if a group of musicians and singers were in the room
performing just for them.

They sat again on the couch. She marveled at
the sensation of the melody filling her senses.

"What is this music called?"

Joey pointed to a piece of parchment on his
wall. "That's them, the Beatles. They're from England. It's called
Rock music."

Beetles?
She read the parchment.
Oh,
Beat-les.
"I thought they were named for insects."

Joey laughed. For a moment she thought he
mocked her, but she could see by the look in his eyes he was
not.

"Well, there are also The Animals, The
Turtles, The Byrds, and The Monkees. I have their records
too."

Her mind swirled from all this information.
She glanced at Joey. He had his head back and his eyes closed as he
listened to the music. He lived in shabby conditions yet spent a
lot of his money or bread on this 'stereo console' while his
'fridge' had no foodstuffs of any consequence. Priorities must be
entirely different in the future.

The music stopped. Catherine particularly
liked the song 'Nowhere Man', the words resonating to her own
situation. Were the lyrics relevant to Joey Indelli as
well?

"Joey, what is your occupation?"

Chapter Four

Joey's eyes snapped open and he turned to look
at her.
What in hell should he say? Would the proper little
princess swoon if he told her of his criminal connections? Would
she even understand it? Shit, he didn't understand it
himself.

"Why do you want to know?"

He stood, walked to the Clairtone, put the
records away, and then turned the selection knob to AM radio. The
‘Top Forty’ music from CFBC filled the room. He turned the volume
down so they could talk.

"I did not mean to intrude into your personal
business."

Cathy's haughty tone returned and he couldn't
blame her. Joey sat back down.

"It's complicated. I perform a service for an
important man, a man who is outside the law. I'm a leg breaker, you
dig?" He saw the confusion on her face. "You dig is slang for 'do
you understand.' I'll try and not use slang around you."

"I do
not
understand. A breaker of
legs? To what purpose?"

Joey shrugged. "If people owe him money, I
collect. When they don't pay, I break legs. It's a figure of
speech. I haven't actually broken any legs –yet. Although, I have
pounded the shit-ah-beat up or punched guys who were late with
payments."

"When you assisted me in the mill, I saw the
blood on your knuckles. Were you pounding the shit out of a
person?"

Joey blinked and smiled. Lady Cathy spoke her
mind. He admired her forthright way of speaking but he then
realized she was merely repeating phrases he used and not
understanding their meaning.

"Yeah, it's why I was in the mill. I conduct
business there."

He could see the distaste on her face. "Is
what you do a worthy occupation in this time?"

"No princess, it isn't." He growled in
annoyance. He had enough so he stood, strode to the console, and
turned the power off.

"I'll get you a blanket and pillow. You can
sleep on the couch."

****

An hour later and Catherine still was not
asleep. She could not disengage from the cacophony of unfamiliar
sound all about her. The people, the machines, the noise, and the
sights in the room were all fascinating and frightening to
her.

Joey's 'couch' was uncomfortable, lumpy, and
worn. She turned her head on the pillow and inhaled. The linens
smelled of Joey, a spicy masculine scent that was vastly alluring.
Just observing Joey walk across a room was a delicious and decadent
experience.

Her cheeks flushed as she thought of the
shameless way she thrust herself at him earlier. She had kissed his
cheeks. They were roughened with a slight bit of whiskers, which
made him even more masculine and enticing. She had also been quite
aware of his man-parts; they had been as hard as granite under her
while they sat in the chair.

Her limited knowledge of men consisted of
sniveling, sweaty, viscounts or earls. Most were shorter than her
and were looking for a brainless woman to give them an heir,
nothing more. None had the tall, broad-shouldered presence of Joey
Indelli. He exuded danger, which she surmised came in handy for his
occupation of leg breaking. However, she sensed so much more in
just their short acquaintance. He was gallant and kind. Joey had
taken her into his home, fed her, and given her shelter and
protection.

Sitting upright, she realized keeping a clear
head was of paramount importance. Staying in this strange time was
not an option with its music on discs, voices in a small box,
flushing chamber pots, and other electric contraptions. Catherine
wanted to go home to her own time and she was determined to find a
way. Neither Joey's many attractive features, nor his strange
possessions could sway her.

A thought stabbed her heart. What must her
parents think? Disappearing without a word and not even leaving a
note was not proper.
Wretched, headstrong girl.
They must be
frantic over her absence. She loved her parents dearly, how could
her behavior be so thoughtless and callous? However much she loved
them, Catherine knew she would never marry Lord Lampton. She should
have discussed her objection with them instead of running
off.

It was then Catherine had the most terrifying
epiphany. If she truly were a century and a half into the future,
they would not be frantic. They would be dead. The thought was like
an open wound that would not heal. She let out a single mournful
sob.

What if she was stuck here? How on earth would
she cope? One hundred and forty eight years into the future and
lost as a sailor shipwrecked at sea. The emotions threaten to
swallow her again like a rogue wave. Tears clustered at the corner
of her eyes.
Drat it all.
Catherine was going to do the
other thing she swore she would never do, she began to
cry.

****

Joey sat upright in bed, his arms crossed. He
couldn't stop thinking about Lady Catherine Worthington. He truly
believed she was from the past. She appeared before him in a flash
of light in an old carriage. Where else could she have come from if
not another time? Maybe she was some witch or enchantress but that
was screwed up. Although when he thought about it, he felt
enchanted. No other chick had brought such a swift reaction to his
heart and body. Even thinking about her got him hard. He would bet
dollars to doughnuts that she was a virgin, weren't all chicks in
the olden days? She had probably never been kissed
either.

What would he do with her? Keep her like a
pet? Take her to the police? No, he wanted nothing to do with the
police, especially since he worked for McGonagall. Also, he would
be carted off to the Lunatic Asylum if he told the cops a woman
from the past traveled through time and landed in his lap. They
would take her away too.

His eyes hadn’t left her the whole night. The
dress he had given her to wear clung to lush curves. The kind he
liked. He would have to get her a few more pieces of clothing and
shoes for her feet. She had the sexiest, tiniest, feet. It took
some doing to convince her to keep her hair down and hanging loose
and that it was in fashion and he found it damned sexy.
Get a
grip, man.

Joey's grew harder at the vision of Cathy and
her luxurious long hair. He squirmed as his pajama bottoms became
snug. He wore pajama pants but had given the top to Cathy. Usually
he wore nothing at all to bed. What kind of gentleman was he by
taking the bed and making her sleep on the small couch? He should
have offered his bed and taken the couch or slept on the floor.
There was a smelly sleeping bag around somewhere.

Joey stood and began to look for the sleeping
bag when he heard soft sobbing from the living room.
Hell
.
He fought back his arousal, then opened his bedroom door and walked
in the living room. She sat on the couch, her head in her hands
with her shoulders heaving. She looked up at him. Her brave facade
was gone completely.

Cathy's misery tore at his heart. The heart he
closed off years ago. Cathy was in distress. She needed him and it
opened up a part of him he didn't know still existed. He wanted to
protect her, pure and simple. Joey wasn't used to trying to comfort
someone. No one had ever comforted him through the years or
protected him.

He reached and brought Cathy to her feet. She
faced him and he stroked her arms gently. Tears ran down her cheeks
and misery shone in her beautiful eyes. He never really looked into
her eyes like this before. They were a shade of light blue with
flecks of hazel, very different and very pretty. Her skin absolute
perfection, like whipped cream in look and texture and he would bet
she tasted just as sweet.

"Oh, I did not want to turn into such a
watering pot, I am not one to cry! I am such a fool. It's just– I
am so lost. What will happen to me?"

"I don't know, Cathy."

A lot of help he was. His hands rose to cup
her face and his thumbs brushed the tears from her flushed cheeks.
Her skin was soft to the touch. "You can stay here as long as you
need. I promise I'll help you if I can. You said you want to go
home, we'll see what we can do."

Empty promises, even though he believed she
traveled through time, he was convinced she was stuck
here.

"Thank you, Joey. I will take your kind offer
of assistance and I will stay if you will have me. I have nowhere
to go." She sniffled noisily.

He was tempted to kiss her enticing, sensual
lips, he even lowered his head a bit but he stopped himself. This
wasn't the time. Instead he scooped her up into his arms and headed
into his bedroom. She laid her head against his chest which made
his heart thump a few extra beats. Joey laid her down and pulled
the thin sheet and blanket up to her chin.

"Take the bed. You need a good night's sleep.
I'll take the couch."

"Joey, you will not fit, you are too
tall."

He shrugged. "I'll manage."

"Stay, Joey."

What?
A wave of desire rippled through
him. The thought of having her soft femininity close by had blood
rushing to his cock again.

"Babe, not a good idea. The temptation may be
too much."

Cathy flushed prettily. "Oh."

He leaned down and kissed her nose. Even with
red swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks she was adorable, and
stunningly beautiful. He had to get out of this room. Joey closed
the door behind him then lay on the couch, his legs dangling
uncomfortably over the end. He was wide awake and horny as
hell.

So much for sleep.

****

The next morning, Catherine dressed in the
multi-colored gown Joey had given her. She had slept well. Joey's
bed was comfortable and having his scent surround her all night was
a soothing balm. She opened the door and stepped into his parlor.
Joey was sprawled on the coach. His long legs hung over the end
with the blanket half on the floor. He did not look comfortable.
She loathed waking him but she had no idea what to do next.
Catherine had hoped when she awoke she would be in her own cozy bed
back in Cornwall and all this was just a terrible dream. Except for
Joey, there was nothing dreadful about him. She had noticed his
shirtless state last night, but took a moment now to admire the
long limbed, muscular man stretched out in front of her. The only
time she had seen a man's bare chest was a farmer outside of her
village and he was nothing compared to Joey. Her eyes lingered on
the expanse of solid muscle and the black hair on his
chest.

Catherine's insides dipped, her breasts grew
heavier, and between her legs unknown warmth gathered in her most
private area.
Heavens, was this desire?
Less than
twenty-four hours in this strange time and she was doing, feeling,
and saying things she had never done before. This was very vexing.
She stepped forward and then stopped. She wanted to touch him.
Everywhere his skin was exposed and even where it was not. It was
shocking perhaps but the feelings pouring through her felt genuine.
She took another step and the floor beneath her groaned and
squeaked. Joey's eyes popped open and he scrambled to his
feet.