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“Cullen.” She laughed softly, looking up at him, dizzy with desire and something else: hope. Could they make this work, could it possibly work? “We both need to wish, to be together, in my bed...in my time, where it’s safe.”
Fear gripped her heart. Would it be safe, with Fox able to turn up at any given moment? Worse still, could she still be dreaming—had this all been one long, vivid dream? But she didn’t want to lose Cullen. Not yet. Not ever. Her fingers closed on his shoulders, tightly, clinging to him as if he might be taken away.
“Safe? What of Nathaniel? He means to come after you thirty days hence.”
“I’m sure we can get help,” she replied, not feeling very sure of anything. “I have friends who know of him. Perhaps they can help us understand.”
“I will not let it happen.” He pushed back her hair, looking at her in the fall of moonlight. “I would give my right arm for thirty days with you, but I don’t wish you to come to harm because of me.”
She laughed softly. “Your right arm? You wouldn’t be much good with the sword.”
She thought he was joking, but he didn’t laugh.
“You have opened my eyes, Miss Yasmina Sunitra Chambers.”
Sunny drew back, trying to see him more clearly in the moonlight, astonished he’d remembered her full name.
“Now I’ve seen Nathaniel Fox’s black art, I do not trust his motives. I must discover why he meant to discharge me from this place on such an oppressive vessel as the one you revealed to me.”
“He has something to gain. I don’t know what.” She didn’t want him to think about that right now. Now she was trying to get them back to the cottage in her time, where they would be safe and they might be able to get answers to their questions.
“We will make this thirty days last forever,” he whispered, kissing her again.
If only we could, Sunny thought to herself. If only the power of wishes were real and this moment didn’t feel as tangible as blowing a dandelion in the wind. If wishes were to come true, she would simply request to keep him forever. But this was for thirty days and, of course, and only time would tell what the true cost was.
“I wish you were my wench, now and whenever.”
She sighed. “I know one thing for sure. When you hold me like this, everything else fades away, and you’re the only thing that’s truly real for me.”
“Good, I would be glad to be the only thing that mattered to a woman like you, Sunny love. I want it, too. I believe...”
He did. She could see it. He had faith and hope in her wild words. Her heart ached. “Please,” she whispered to the heavens, to the cottage around them, and the spirit it held, “please let this work.”
And then he stopped her whispers when he kissed her again, gently at first, until the kiss became more demanding, until everything else slipped away and there was only the two of them, adrift in time.
She cupped his fiercely handsome face in her hands.
A misty ether engulfed them.
She opened her mouth and her soul to him. She believed. She tasted him with her tongue and with her whole life force, willing them to be joined and carried forward two hundred years.
She felt her hair lifting, she felt him moving against her, his hands roving possessively over her body. Her shirt fell open, his hands moved inside, then lower. In her mind’s eye, they were naked and entwined, amidst an ethereal dreamscape quivering with stars. She sighed against his mouth. This was pure magic; he was pure magic. His arms were strong and invincible around her, and she coiled within his embrace, their hearts and spirits afloat in an ever-changing sky of light and color.
Her legs were locked around his hips He entered her. Like a lightning rod, it pulsated with energy, fusing them together. Their spirits soared, wrapped together and tangled in destiny’s embrace. A rush of air, powerful and unchecked, roared up around them like a whirlwind, fierce and swirling with stardust.
In her mind, she spoke to him. Cullen, you’re real, and you’re my dream, my dream come true.
And he knew, he knew what she meant and he returned the love she gave, tenfold.
Stars glistened around them and the sky of colors pulsated, rising and falling in time with the driving power of their physical embraces.
In the moment of their mutual orgasm, time stood still and faded into complete darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A bird sang its morning song close by.
Sunny fought against the heavy slumber holding her captive. She could barely bring herself to open her eyes, in case she found herself in 1820. So, with curious fingers she tugged at her neckline, hoping to discover she was back in her shortie pajamas, but no, she was still wearing Cullen’s shirt, although it was all she wore, it was askew and her breasts were bare. When she opened her eyes and found herself still wrapped in Cullen’s arms, she finally knew for sure it hadn’t been a dream at all.
