DREAMS OF TOMORROW: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (Ravenhurst Series) Read online

  Ah, Crap! She cringed, listening to the now familiar sound of footsteps running up the stairs. “Not again,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

  Reed skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs, the action making Lucian slam into his back, pushing his body forward. He started to fall, but Lucian caught him just in time, pulling him back upright.

  Raven peeked out from under her lashes. She was seeing double: hot clean-cut Reed, and dangerous, look-a-like Reed, loomed above her… a girls dream come true.

  “Who do we have here?” A deep voice rumbled out with a hint of laughter just beneath the surface. “No wonder you wanted me to leave, you sly devil,” Lucian teased playfully, hitting Reed in his arm. “Did I interrupt your plans for a romantic interlude?”

  Reed glared at his brother. “No—damn you—stop. She is with the auction house.”

  Lucian’s laughter evaporated. “What? Why?” A frown of concern creased his brow.

  “What?” Reed attempted his own dodge and weave, his eyes widening. “Stop staring at me like that. She is here for insurance purposes, nothing more,” Reed lied, smoothly.

  Lucian crossed his muscled arms, his humor returning. “Hmm, interesting…you pick her yourself?” he leaned in, “she is quite a looker.”

  Reed frowned and looked down at Raven. Her long hair covering part of her face, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and lips pressed into a thin line. She was making a face and not a pretty one either. Still, he had to admit she was a pretty girl. But he was used to seeing pretty girls. Suzette was flawless. The memories of their lovemaking still fresh in his mind, and the vision’s of Raven while he was doing the act made him uncomfortably hard suddenly. He shook his head, clearing his mind. What in the hell was he thinking.

  Raven didn’t move, not an inch. She could hear what they were whispering about. Keeping her eyes tightly shut she listened to see if they would say anything more. What she did hear made her face flame red. Of course the words weren’t said by Reed—no not him, of course not. No, it was the freakishly hot look-alike Reed—which had to be his twin, or at the very least, his brother. Raven held her breath, surprised neither of them had tried to wake her…seriously, what was taking them so long?

  Well it looked like she was about to be busted for the faker she was, so she started to pretend to regain consciousness. But right before she did her full-on, fake, come-to, she distinctly heard look-a-like Reed say…

  “Since she is not here for you…mind if I have a go?”

  Raven would have fallen over if she weren’t already sprawled on the ground…elation filled her…

  Reed gritted his teeth. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Her elation deflated like a balloon … big mouth Reed … she listened to them argue for a few more seconds and then finally decided she better do something. Moaning for effect, she lifted her hand and pressed it to her forehead. “Oh my…what happened?” she moaned, but it sounded more like a sickly squeak. Struggling to sit up she pushed up off the floor. She found the action not as easy as one would think.

  Reed leaned down over her, his face inches from her own. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice sounding strained.

  Raven glanced up at him and immediately wished she didn’t, his dark eyes bore into her own. “Yeah,” she supplied, trying to sound groggy for effect, rubbing the sore spot on her head. “I ah, um…”

  “Your sugar drop again?” Reed supplied unsympathetically, leaning back to standing and crossing his arms across his chest, giving her an incredulous look.

  Raven narrowed her eyes at him. “No, my sugar did not drop.”

  “Care to explain what you are doing on the floor then?” he asked, smirking at her.

  “I fell,” she said, smirking right back at him.

  “Can you stand or do you need help?” he asked snidely. He shook his head not knowing why he was so irritated with her.

  Raven let out a frustrated sigh. Jerk. “I can stand on my own,” she said with a healthy dose of indignation and then pressed her palms on the floor trying to stand. She got as far as her knees when the hottie stepped in front of her, holding out his hand.

  “Let me help you,” he said, smiling down at her.

  Raven smiled back, she couldn’t help it and put her hand into his warm strong hand. In moments, she was pulled swiftly to her feet. Not expecting his strength, she collided with him, face planting against his broad chest. “Sorry,” she mumbled into his shirt, inhaling his scent. He smelled windblown, just like the great outdoors…divine. Once he had her steadied, he moved to the side and she was able to see Reed. He was staring at them with his mouth hanging open. She fought the childish urge welling inside to stick her tongue out at him.

  “You okay?”

  She felt a firm hand squeeze her elbow and looked up into the dark gaze of her savior. He looked even better up close. He had a strong chiseled jaw line, a cleft centered perfectly in the middle. “Wow,” she mouthed, widening her eyes. Best job ever…

  “Lucian, she is not a cripple,” Reed said sternly. “I am sure she can stand on her own.”

  Raven frowned. She suddenly wished she had on shoes—she wanted to kick Reed in his shin. He was ruining “a really good dream come true moment” with his crappy attitude.

  “Oh, I am sure she can as well. I was just enjoying her being so close to me.” Lucian said unfazed and leaned in closer. “You smell wonderful,” he purred into her ear.

  Raven shivered, his warm breath tickled her. She did smile this time—a full -blown one. “Thanks,” she said, her face flaming from the compliment. Trying to act nonchalant on the outside, she backed up a step, but on the inside, she was jumping up and down with glee…that was, until her gaze caught Reed’s again. His mouth was hanging open…again. She wanted to taunt him suddenly, like an immature little kid. But didn’t, she was the professional one. At least she was trying to be.

  Lucian squeezed her elbow, reassuringly, and reluctantly stepped away. He watched her make a face at Reed. She was a spunky little thing. He tried not to laugh outright and ended up coughing, to break the awkward glare-game between the two. “Well, I don’t know about the two of you, but I am famished.”

  Raven pulled her gaze from Reed and looked nervously up at the guy who had just helped her to her feet.

  Lucian leaned forward. “So little lady, please tell me you are joining us for dinner this evening?” he said, his voice taking on a southern drawl.

  Reed scowled. “Her name is Ms. Tremaine, not little lady. We aren’t living in the south Lucian, what’s with the accent?” he said, glaring at his brother.

  Lucian gave Reed a blank stare and merely shrugged his broad shoulders noncommittally.

  “You can call me Raven.” She eyed him appreciatively. She could care less if he was southern or not. His deep sexy voice made her feel warm and fuzzy.

  “Raven…hmm, nice name.”

  Raven felt like her insides were close to bursting. She had a nice name…well that was new. She had never heard that one before, at least not from a guy, and certainly not Reed. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a professional thing to say, but she still wished he had. She shook her head. What in the hell did she care what Reed thought when a gorgeous, hotter version of him was standing right in front of her. “I would love to join you for dinner.” She saw Reed cut her another disgruntled glare. “I mean, I would if it is all right with um, you know…” She looked pointedly at Reed.

  Reed frowned and pulled his eyes from them both, suddenly feeling stupid.

  “Of course it is,” Lucian said. “If Reed has something else to do, I would still love it if you joined me for dinner,” he said, pouring on a heavy dose of charm.

  Reed rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched.

  “Say Reed, when is dinner?” Lucian asked, rubbing his hands together. “I can’t wait to taste Geordie’s latest creation.

  “Eight,” Reed answered flatly.

  “I’ll confide something to you…” Luc
ian leaned in conspiratorially, really for no other reason than to piss Reed off. “The thing I missed most of all in my travels were Geordie’s meals. She is a master in the kitchen.”

  Reed glared at his brother, his long hair falling forward blocking his view of Raven. He could see her nodding her head, but nothing more. And he certainly couldn’t hear what they were saying even though he was straining his ears. He ran his hands over his face. What in the hell was he doing standing there gawking at them both like an idiot, waiting to be included in the conversation. He finally made himself do something. “I’ll go and tell Geordie there will be another joining us for dinner.” He felt like an outsider in his own home.

  “Wonderful. Once I escort Raven back to her room, I would love to take a quick shower. Where are you putting me?”

  Reed was in mid-step and nearly fell forward but quickly caught himself. Holding the banister in a death grip and turned back. “Didn’t you shower today?” Reed asked snidely.

  “Yes, I did,” Lucian answered just as snidely. “I did however, ride my bike and I fear the dirt from the road has covered me well and good, so I will be in need of another.” He turned towards Reed, lifting his dark brow in question. “Is that a problem…brother?”

  “Why no, it’s not a problem…brother.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I do however wonder why you were riding a… bicycle,” Reed smiled beatifically, taunting him. An image of his brother peddling like a boob flitted into his mind, making him chuckle.

  “My God Reed…I didn’t say a bicycle, I said bike, as in my Ducati,” he replied, laughter resonating in his voice.

  Reed eyes widened. He gripped the banister harder. Of course, he wouldn’t be riding a bicycle. What was he thinking? Good lord he was acting like an idiot. He was better than this.

  Raven eyed Lucian appreciatively. She could certainly imagine him riding a Ducati. She wondered if he would give her a ride, how sweet would that be! She could imagine wrapping her arms around his taut waist… the wind blowing in her hair…

  “Are you finished with the interrogation?” Lucian glared at Reed. “I would like to escort Raven back to her room.” Holding Raven close, he turned down the hall towards the bedroom. In mid step he stopped. “One moment,” he said. “Oh and Reed,” he called out over his shoulder. “Tell the servants to fetch my luggage would you?”

  Reed gritted his teeth. “I don’t think any rooms have been readied except for the one Ms. Tremaine is staying in.”

  Lucian turned his head around more and gave his brother a pointed stare. “Well, that is what servants are for, right Reed?”

  Reed would have agreed, but he was down to a skeleton staff now, thanks to his brother’s insane spending habits. And of course, he would never admit that simple fact to him or anyone else, so he would have to carry his brother’s luggage on his own since there was no way Milford could do it all. The maids wouldn’t be much help either…the bags were too heavy. Damn.

  ***

  Once Raven was safely ensconced in her room, she grabbed some of her toiletries, and docked her iPod in her little cube speaker, punching up the volume. Then she went into the bath to quickly freshen up. She even shaved her legs.

  A half hour later, she bounced out of the bathroom. Her hands flung in the air, shaking her bottom she danced across the carpeted floor. Bobbing her head to the beat, she grabbed up her phone and lifted it in the air, trying to find a few bars of reception. When that didn’t work, she started pacing back and forth, switching between standing on her toes, and bending over—neither worked. She had wanted to call Cecily so she could tell her about hot Reed and his even hotter brother, but the damn thing wouldn’t work…still.

  “Stupid phone!” Irritated she tossed it back on the bed. Apparently, she was in the boondocks.

  Giving up she walked over to her bag and started pulling out clothing, trying to find something suitable to wear down to dinner. She finally picked out long black velvet skirt and another boob-hugging blouse. This time she did put on nice undergarments foregoing the belly busters, just in case…

  ***

  The last of the suitcases thumped loudly on the stairs as Reed struggled with its weight. He took a deep breath when he reached the top. A light sheen of sweat covered his body making his shirt cling uncomfortably to his skin. What did his brother have in these: bricks? Damn, he packed more shit than a girl did. He gave the suitcases an angry glare, finally noticing what kind of luggage it was. The monogrammed LV all over should have been a dead giveaway. Holy shit, they were Louis Vuitton. He broke out in a cold sweat. He was looking at over ten thousand dollars worth of luggage, if not more. It made him feel sick. No wonder he was going broke.

  And that wasn’t even the worst of it. If he had rode his bike, how in the hell did he get his entire wardrobe here? What in the hell did he need with this kind of luggage? What was he planning on doing? Moving in? His body shuddered at the thought. And that was not even what was really pissing him off.

  No, he owed that to Raven, and the way she had been gawking at Lucian, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes widening in awe, like she thought he was some sort of Greek god. He snorted in disgust. What in the hell was the world coming to?

  The edge of despair

  RAVENHURST * THE AGE OF CHIVALRY

  TIME moved slower when you were waiting for something, anything, to happen. The bed creaked under his weight as Darias sat back down on the edge. Frigid air blew steadily through the window. The now familiar sensation of helplessness closed in on him, bearing down. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face. His hair was drenched. Lifting his hand he raked it through his hair, shoving it back over his shoulders.

  Sighing heavily he laid his hand to Marguerites chest, the soft fabric soaked through, much like his own tunic. Redness flamed across her cheeks. The scrape from her fall left an angry welt on her chin. He moved the bowl of water closer to the bed, wrung out the small piece of linen inside, and pressed it gently to her face, careful not to press too hard.

  He stared at her. “Please wake up.” There was no response. He didn’t know what he expected. If he didn’t know better he would merely think she was sleeping, but that wasn’t the case—he knew better. He also knew she might never awaken again.

  The thought made his insides twist. Time had no bearing on him now. Instead, he waited in vain for some sign she would be all right.

  At his wit’s end, he had tried everything he could think of to wake her. None worked. Dipping the cloth back into the bowl and squeezed, releasing the excess water, and then pressed it against her face once more. She was still terribly hot… too hot.

  It was not natural. He knew that absolute fact deep in his bones. Frustrated, he tossed the cloth back into the bowl and stood. The inactivity was driving him to distraction. He paced back and forth across the chamber, his boots scraping across the rough stone floor. He looked over at Milford who was pressed back in the shadows, chanting or praying he wasn’t sure which. But he didn’t care. He was hoping it would work—whatever he was doing. Turning away, he yanked his now drenched tunic over his head, and tossed it over the chair in the corner of the room. He walked back to the window, placing his hands on the stone ledge and leaned out, letting the chilled air cool him and looked down at the inner bailey.

  The occupants of the keep were tending to their daily tasks as though nothing was different, but it was different. Everything had changed. Sighing heavily he pushed away from the window and walked over to the chest at the bottom of his bed. Unhinging the latch, he pushed up the lid. It creaked loudly in protest. His meager possessions lined the bottom. Reaching in, he pulled out a clean tunic. Discouraged, he slammed the lid down and then walked back to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he stared down at her still form. A cold, inescapable fear coursed throughout his body, making him shiver even though it was hotter than Hades in the room still. Letting out a heavy sigh he raked his hands over his face and then looked heavenward. He did something he had not seen fit
to do in all his years on this earth. He prayed. “Please don’t take her from me, she is …” He shook his head. What was she to him? “Bring her back…to me…please.” He dropped his head into his hands, his long hair spilling forward.

  “Darias?” Jayce called from the doorway and then stepped across the threshold of the room.

  Darias turned. All the hurt and pain he felt reflected in his eyes as he looked over at his brother.

  Jayce walked further into the room, a tray held in his hands. “How is she?

  Darias merely shook his head back and forth. Jayce gripped the tray tighter. His brother was not acting like himself, not one bit. It was unsettling and damn strange. He barely knew the girl. “You need to eat.”

  “I am not hungry,” Darias replied, gravel in his voice.

  Jayce bit back his irritation. “You must eat, to keep up your own strength.”

  He didn’t respond.

  When that did nothing, Jayce added, “So you may tend the girl.”

  Darias shook his head in agreement. “Right, of course,” he said, his gaze drifting back to Marguerite, hoping, he could simply wish her back.

  Sweat sprang out on Jayce’s skin as he walked further into the room. “Why is it so hot in here?” he asked and looked over at the fire. The embers were blackened from cold, not red with heat. He shook his head when Darias did not answer and placed the food on the trunk at the base of the bed. He walked to the open window. Frigid air gusted into the room, but turned hot in a matter of moments. He leaned out the window and took deep breaths of the cool air. The air from his lungs turned white within seconds. He pulled his head back into the room; it was stifling still. This did not make a bit of sense. It hit him then.

  This, what was happening, was not natural. Something or someone was making the room this way…but who? Jayce was no stranger to the dark arts. He knew a few skilled witches that had helped him a time or two when he was in need of cures, or curses. He looked back to the girl; she was a small little thing. An angry red scrape was on her face that contrasted vibrantly with her pale complexion. He looked around the room, for what, he knew not, but certainly something would beckon him to it, something that would be out of place with what should be in the room.