demanding
they tear down this wall. Something about...nine and
eleven?
More music, now he could not make out the
words, garbled nonsense and an ear-piercing screeching noise and
thunderous pounding. Horrible. He tried to raise his arms, to cover
his ears, but he couldn't.
Wake up, damn you! he cried to himself.
But he was losing consciousness.
Darkness.
Chapter One
Present Day
As glorious as late spring days could be, this
one was just about perfect, and Sandra Cranston did not want to
waste one hour of it. She packed a light picnic lunch of egg salad
sandwiches and green grapes, some magazines, and her latest
historical romance novel, but nothing else from the outside world,
no iPod, Blackberry...nothing. She wanted to escape, and escape she
would.
She had found a secluded patch of woods,
fifteen kilometers outside of town, even though she was not an
outdoors girl, really. What had possessed her to take a picnic, of
all things, to some lonely part of the woods was beyond her, but
the impulse grabbed her, so she acted on it. There were no bugs, a
slight cool breeze, and the sun was warm and comforting. She
silently prayed some lumbering black bear would not come out of the
woods to snatch her lunch, or worse, her, but other than that worry
of marauding wildlife, it was a lovely day.
Sandra was on a leave of absence from her job
as an elementary school teacher. One year. She needed it. She did
not want to be around children, or anyone for that matter. She was
frayed, burned out. And if there were more luscious days like this,
she would be feeling like herself in no time. It beat
anti-depressants any day.
Sandra inhaled deeply, she could smell pine and
wild flowers and fresh, crisp air. But her picnic was gone and
she’d had enough of hard ground. She could only take so much
communing with nature. Gathering her basket, books, and the blanket
she had sprawled out on, she put her things in her SUV, then
started down the road. She realized she did not want to go home
quite yet, that she might as well go for a drive,
explore.
Sandra drove, listening to classical music,
when in a cluster of pine trees, she saw something. Something
completely out of place. Something that shouldn’t be there.
Slowing, she turned toward the cluster of trees, her SUV rolling
and lurching over the uneven ground, throwing her books
about.
It looked like some sort of old style of
carriage. Out here, in the middle of nowhere? Where were the
horses? And how did it come to be abandoned in the
woods?
Turning off the ignition, she climbed out of
her vehicle and approached slowly. There was a man in the carriage,
his eyes were closed, and his body was twisted at a most
uncomfortable angle. Sandra reached out to touch the door. It was
ice cold! She almost left some skin behind on the wooden
door.
"Hello...mister?" she called out
tentatively.
The man opened his eyes and groaned. Sandra's
breath caught in her throat. He was handsome, hell, he was
beautiful. His eyes were as blue as the sky above. His long hair,
the lush, rich color of butterscotch, was pulled back in a pony
tail. His eyes quickly fluttered shut again and his head dropped
forward.
She reached in through the open window of the
carriage and shook him. She could feel lean, solid muscle move
under her touch. His cerulean eyes fluttered open again.
"Can you get out of this carriage?" Sandra
asked.
His eyes looked unfocused, but he nodded
slowly.
He had no sooner opened the door, when he
tumbled onto the ground, unconscious again. Now she noticed the way
he was dressed, like he was out of one of those BBC period dramas
she loved so much.
Who was he, Mr. Darcy?
He must be dressed for a play or some such,
what other reason would he be dressed this way? He looked silly,
really. Out of place.
She studied his face. An aristocratic nose
slanted slightly down toward the most luscious, sensuous pair of
full lips she had ever seen on a man. A small dark mole sat
invitingly at
they tear down this wall. Something about...nine and
eleven?
More music, now he could not make out the
words, garbled nonsense and an ear-piercing screeching noise and
thunderous pounding. Horrible. He tried to raise his arms, to cover
his ears, but he couldn't.
Wake up, damn you! he cried to himself.
But he was losing consciousness.
Darkness.
Chapter One
Present Day
As glorious as late spring days could be, this
one was just about perfect, and Sandra Cranston did not want to
waste one hour of it. She packed a light picnic lunch of egg salad
sandwiches and green grapes, some magazines, and her latest
historical romance novel, but nothing else from the outside world,
no iPod, Blackberry...nothing. She wanted to escape, and escape she
would.
She had found a secluded patch of woods,
fifteen kilometers outside of town, even though she was not an
outdoors girl, really. What had possessed her to take a picnic, of
all things, to some lonely part of the woods was beyond her, but
the impulse grabbed her, so she acted on it. There were no bugs, a
slight cool breeze, and the sun was warm and comforting. She
silently prayed some lumbering black bear would not come out of the
woods to snatch her lunch, or worse, her, but other than that worry
of marauding wildlife, it was a lovely day.
Sandra was on a leave of absence from her job
as an elementary school teacher. One year. She needed it. She did
not want to be around children, or anyone for that matter. She was
frayed, burned out. And if there were more luscious days like this,
she would be feeling like herself in no time. It beat
anti-depressants any day.
Sandra inhaled deeply, she could smell pine and
wild flowers and fresh, crisp air. But her picnic was gone and
she’d had enough of hard ground. She could only take so much
communing with nature. Gathering her basket, books, and the blanket
she had sprawled out on, she put her things in her SUV, then
started down the road. She realized she did not want to go home
quite yet, that she might as well go for a drive,
explore.
Sandra drove, listening to classical music,
when in a cluster of pine trees, she saw something. Something
completely out of place. Something that shouldn’t be there.
Slowing, she turned toward the cluster of trees, her SUV rolling
and lurching over the uneven ground, throwing her books
about.
It looked like some sort of old style of
carriage. Out here, in the middle of nowhere? Where were the
horses? And how did it come to be abandoned in the
woods?
Turning off the ignition, she climbed out of
her vehicle and approached slowly. There was a man in the carriage,
his eyes were closed, and his body was twisted at a most
uncomfortable angle. Sandra reached out to touch the door. It was
ice cold! She almost left some skin behind on the wooden
door.
"Hello...mister?" she called out
tentatively.
The man opened his eyes and groaned. Sandra's
breath caught in her throat. He was handsome, hell, he was
beautiful. His eyes were as blue as the sky above. His long hair,
the lush, rich color of butterscotch, was pulled back in a pony
tail. His eyes quickly fluttered shut again and his head dropped
forward.
She reached in through the open window of the
carriage and shook him. She could feel lean, solid muscle move
under her touch. His cerulean eyes fluttered open again.
"Can you get out of this carriage?" Sandra
asked.
His eyes looked unfocused, but he nodded
slowly.
He had no sooner opened the door, when he
tumbled onto the ground, unconscious again. Now she noticed the way
he was dressed, like he was out of one of those BBC period dramas
she loved so much.
Who was he, Mr. Darcy?
He must be dressed for a play or some such,
what other reason would he be dressed this way? He looked silly,
really. Out of place.
She studied his face. An aristocratic nose
slanted slightly down toward the most luscious, sensuous pair of
full lips she had ever seen on a man. A small dark mole sat
invitingly at
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