Sam. You’re not going to believe a word I say.”
“Let me decide that.”
“I’m not from this time.” She paused, but he didn’t comment, so she continued, “I’m from the year two thousand and nine. I am a multi-million-dollar recording artist and I sing onstage for a living. A very good living, actually. I was performing the night I found myself drugged and in your jail. The reason Victoria knew who I was is because everyone knows who I am.”
He leaned his elbows on the chair, his fingers forming a tent. “In the future.”
“Yes, in the future.”
Leaning back in his chair, he crossed an ankle over his knee. “How is this possible?”
Rayne shrugged. “I don’t know. Jared tricked me into an old building, he drugged me, and as I ran to escape, I ended up in a strange room. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying in the mud. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up to Scarface.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Lyle?”
“Yes, Lyle.” Rayne leaned forward. “But I need to go home, Sam. I can’t live in this century.”
“Why not?”
Rayne sank further into the chair. “Because it’s not me and I don’t belong here. I’m not an innocent young woman who will submit to the authority of men.”
“How much different is it in the future?”
“For one, women have the right to vote and we pretty much run our own lives.”
He picked at a thread on his trousers. “So, are you concerned that if you stay here, in this time, you’ll lose your independence?”
Rayne sighed. “I won’t lose it because I’m not staying.”
“You wouldn’t have to give it up if you stayed here.”
“Right. You don’t run the world, Sam.”
He chuckled quietly.
“It’s not just that,” she whispered.
“What else?”
“We also no longer wait until marriage to have sex.”
“Women in this century often don’t either,” Sam pointed out.
“But if they don’t, they’re considered whores.”
He didn’t agree or disagree with that. “What about you, Rayne?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Have you lain with a man?”
“Yes, I have. Two in fact.” She delivered her answer with a sick sense of glee. He’d leave now, she was certain of it.
* * *
Sam nodded as he leaned forward in the chair and rested his arms on his knees again. He didn’t speak, just sat staring at the fire burning in front of them. His heart broke for her…and him. She was insane. It was clear now. He rose to his feet and made his way to the door. Sliding the key into the lock he opened it and faced her. “It’s all right, Rayne, I’ll take care of everything.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He closed the distance and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, sweetheart.”
Sam left her room and made his way downstairs. He peered into the parlor and waved Clayton over. Clayton frowned as stepped into the foyer. “What’s amiss? I thought you were leaving.”
Sam nodded. “May I have a private word?”
“Of course. We’ll use Chris’s office.”
* * *
Rayne wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing in the middle of her room, flabbergasted by Sam’s reaction. She wasn’t sure if she should be nervous or relieved. Her answer came in the form of Victoria pushing her door open. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Rayne asked.
Victoria frowned. “Sam thinks you’re insane.”
“Wh-what? What do you mean?”
“He told Clayton he was going to bring a doctor by to examine you tomorrow. He feels that, as your fiancé, it’s his responsibility to take care of you.”
Rayne swore. “He is not my fiancé.”
Victoria grimaced. “You’ve gotta give him credit. He’s not running away.”
“Oh, stop it, Victoria. He’s the insane one if he thinks just by telling people we’re engaged that it’s true.” Rayne started to pace. “Your little prophecy might come true!”
“Which one.”
“Cross-beams and stocks, and
“Let me decide that.”
“I’m not from this time.” She paused, but he didn’t comment, so she continued, “I’m from the year two thousand and nine. I am a multi-million-dollar recording artist and I sing onstage for a living. A very good living, actually. I was performing the night I found myself drugged and in your jail. The reason Victoria knew who I was is because everyone knows who I am.”
He leaned his elbows on the chair, his fingers forming a tent. “In the future.”
“Yes, in the future.”
Leaning back in his chair, he crossed an ankle over his knee. “How is this possible?”
Rayne shrugged. “I don’t know. Jared tricked me into an old building, he drugged me, and as I ran to escape, I ended up in a strange room. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying in the mud. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up to Scarface.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Lyle?”
“Yes, Lyle.” Rayne leaned forward. “But I need to go home, Sam. I can’t live in this century.”
“Why not?”
Rayne sank further into the chair. “Because it’s not me and I don’t belong here. I’m not an innocent young woman who will submit to the authority of men.”
“How much different is it in the future?”
“For one, women have the right to vote and we pretty much run our own lives.”
He picked at a thread on his trousers. “So, are you concerned that if you stay here, in this time, you’ll lose your independence?”
Rayne sighed. “I won’t lose it because I’m not staying.”
“You wouldn’t have to give it up if you stayed here.”
“Right. You don’t run the world, Sam.”
He chuckled quietly.
“It’s not just that,” she whispered.
“What else?”
“We also no longer wait until marriage to have sex.”
“Women in this century often don’t either,” Sam pointed out.
“But if they don’t, they’re considered whores.”
He didn’t agree or disagree with that. “What about you, Rayne?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Have you lain with a man?”
“Yes, I have. Two in fact.” She delivered her answer with a sick sense of glee. He’d leave now, she was certain of it.
* * *
Sam nodded as he leaned forward in the chair and rested his arms on his knees again. He didn’t speak, just sat staring at the fire burning in front of them. His heart broke for her…and him. She was insane. It was clear now. He rose to his feet and made his way to the door. Sliding the key into the lock he opened it and faced her. “It’s all right, Rayne, I’ll take care of everything.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He closed the distance and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, sweetheart.”
Sam left her room and made his way downstairs. He peered into the parlor and waved Clayton over. Clayton frowned as stepped into the foyer. “What’s amiss? I thought you were leaving.”
Sam nodded. “May I have a private word?”
“Of course. We’ll use Chris’s office.”
* * *
Rayne wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing in the middle of her room, flabbergasted by Sam’s reaction. She wasn’t sure if she should be nervous or relieved. Her answer came in the form of Victoria pushing her door open. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Rayne asked.
Victoria frowned. “Sam thinks you’re insane.”
“Wh-what? What do you mean?”
“He told Clayton he was going to bring a doctor by to examine you tomorrow. He feels that, as your fiancé, it’s his responsibility to take care of you.”
Rayne swore. “He is not my fiancé.”
Victoria grimaced. “You’ve gotta give him credit. He’s not running away.”
“Oh, stop it, Victoria. He’s the insane one if he thinks just by telling people we’re engaged that it’s true.” Rayne started to pace. “Your little prophecy might come true!”
“Which one.”
“Cross-beams and stocks, and
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