Page 32 of Dark Rival

Allie groaned and stood. Of all the times for Tabby to be cryptic! What the hell had that meant, exactly? She was one hundred percent certain she was knee-deep in ashes right now.

She looked at the fire burning in the stone hearth. She was in a small, cold chamber in a fifteenth-century castle. Time travel was a fact.

She had not expected such a cold, even hostile welcome, or that Royce would be a chauvinistic and heartless pig. Currently he was the jerk of all time, but one day, he would be her lover—and the love of her life. She corrected herself. He was the love of her life, he just didn’t know it yet.

There was hope.

She was a Healer before anything else, but she was a fighter, too. She’d been fighting demons since she was thirteen, and she’d managed to survive evil, in spite of her small size and her lack of warrior power. Fighting was instinctive for her. She was going to fight for a future with Royce. She was going to figure out how to prevent his murder in September 2007. And somehow, she’d survive his current and very unpleasant self.

Allie breathed hard. Her composure had returned, and so had her optimism. But then, she was an optimist by nature. Every time she failed to save a vic, it hurt and she cried. But the next night, she was out cruising again, trying to save the next Innocent. Giving up was not in her nature, not now, not ever.

She just couldn’t help wishing she’d see a glimmer of her Royce somewhere behind that tunic and plaid. She loved the modern Royce, but she didn’t like his antiquated self at all. Did Mr. Medieval even know how to smile?

And why wasn’t she the one in his bed? Not that she’d let him touch her, after he’d been such a complete jerk!

She groaned. He was with another woman, she was still in love with his future self, and obsessed with his present self. Not good, but considering the high stakes, she’d have to deal.

Her door opened. As two lanky boys lugged in a wooden tub, keeping their eyes firmly on the stone floor, Allie smiled, her attention turning to her imminent bath—which she desperately needed. Their shyness amused her. Two men carrying buckets of steaming water followed. They kept their gazes averted, too, and Allie became suspicious. Surely these men hadn’t heard about Royce almost emasculating that giant outside of the gatehouse?

“Thank you.” She smiled at them. “Thanks so much.”

They nodded but didn’t look at her or even speak as they left.

Allie decided she should not be surprised—Royce probably instilled the fear of the gods in everyone at Carrick. Then she looked at the steaming bath and realized she’d have to put on her dirty clothes when she was done. Either that, or dress like the Highland women in those long, shapeless linen dresses.

She had a moment of doubt. Would Royce even look twice at her in such clothing?

She told herself that she was pretty no matter what she wore—and a good, decent person with a big heart. But Mr. Macho Man didn’t give a damn about any woman’s heart—he was interested in their bodies. She was sure of that! And she was shocked because she was suddenly uncertain and insecure. She had never worried about appearing attractive before, or about attracting anyone.

If at all possible, clothes from the future would be a big help. Instantly she thought of Aidan, who liked to shop. He hadn’t seemed bothered by her anger toward him. Maybe she could convince him to help her out. She was pretty certain he was the Knight of Swords in Tabby’s reading. In fact, he was truly decent—it was too bad the medieval Royce didn’t have any of his charm or consideration.

A knock sounded on her door. Allie sensed male power, but not Royce’s. She wasn’t surprised to find Aidan standing there, smiling. There was a slight, mischievous gleam in his very blue eyes. He was still wearing jeans and his beloved jacket.

Allie grinned. “Telepathy? You knew I want to talk to you?”

“I heard ye thinking my name—quite a few times.” He shrugged but his bright gaze veered to the hot tub. “I do hope ye need someone to scrub yer back?”

Allie laughed. “When have you ever scrubbed a woman’s back—without doing anything else?”

He grinned back at her. “Did I say I’d only wash ye?” But his gaze was direct.

This man could seduce a nun, Allie thought. “I’m taken, otherwise I’d share the bath with you.”

His smile flashed. “Aye, I ken. Royce is a fool in this time, eh?”

Allie tensed, imagining him with another woman.

Aidan touched her arm lightly. “I warned ye.”

“Yes, you did.” She couldn’t smile now. “What is his problem?”

“Ye ken, he has no heart. Not yet.”

“I can’t even imagine how that is possible. You have a heart.”

Aidan’s dimples deepened. “I like women, lass. I canna help but be nice to ye. Otherwise my bed would be cold.”

Allie hoped Royce did not become charming when he was intent on seduction. She hated the idea of even his medieval self charming anyone but her.