Page 10 of City of Love

She smoothed the hem of her skirt lower. “Margot brought me along because she knew how completely blown away I’d be, but also because…” His eyes were back on hers, though he turned his head in the most minuscule way, as if trying to hear a distant sound. “She mentioned something about your world understanding my… um… precognition? That maybe someone here can help me?”

He stared right through her, without responding, as if his thoughts had been dragged elsewhere.

“Mr. Ashe?”

His eyes brightened as he came back to the present, and a soft understanding smile returned. “Please forgive me. I’m afraid I’m rather preoccupied tonight. Though, that’s no excuse for my wandering thoughts.” He took her hand again, clasping it gently in both of his. “Margot was right to bring you here. I’m sure we can help with…”

The sound of his voice dimmed and…

Blood streamed through the cracks in the cobbled street, inches from her face as she lay on the cold road, the smell of copper hitting her nose, turning her stomach. Not her blood, though. She’d fallen, exhausted, but in one piece.

Boots ran past, splashing red on her cheek. Looking up she saw the soldiers running by, their swords flashing in the dwindling daylight. Their uniforms blue wool. Their weapons antique.

One stopped and reached a hand down to her. “Get up, son. You’ve got to keep moving.”

She took his hand and tried to stand.

“That’s a good lad,” the soldier told her.

Lexi blinked, back in the salon and disoriented, but thankfully still upright on her stool.

So, she wouldn’t be allowed a vision-free evening after all. But what kind of vision was that? It certainly didn’t look like the present or future, unless maybe it was in this anachronistic world? And the soldier had called her “son” and “lad.” No, it wasn’t her future. Not a precognition. It was more like someone else’s… past.

“Miss Cross, are you all right?” Gideon still clasped her hands in his, his face gone tight with concern. He slid one palm up her arm to her shoulder.

Past her shoulder, to her neck, sliding back to the nape as he rolled her onto her back. The canopy of the big four-poster loomed above them, the only light coming from the fireplace as he stretched out on top of her, their bodies bare, skin to skin. His mouth moved across her face, landing kisses on her eyelids, her temples.

“Gideon.” She arched into him as he slid one hand along her inner thigh, pushing her leg out a bit as his fingers found their way up to her core and…

The warm, golden light of the salon was suddenly too bright. She closed her eyes tight against it.

He squeezed her shoulder. “Miss Cross? Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and turning away as she moved apart from his touch. Reaching for her beer, she swallowed a few cold sips, pulling herself together before she looked back into his face and answered him. Rude or not, she had to take a moment.

Or she’d come right there on her stool.

Lust slammed into his cock with such force he gasped.

What the fuck? Thank God for his leather pants keeping the instantly rock-hard thing at bay.

Sucking in a big lungful of air, he focused on calming his heart rate, which was high both from the shock and the need to pump blood to other parts of his body. Like his brain.

Margot was off her barstool and hovering over Lexi. “What’s wrong, baby doll? Did you just have a vision?”

Lexi nodded, hands shaky around her beer stein. “Yeah. Sort of.” She darted a look at him. Darted it away just as quick. “I’m okay. You know these things happen. No biggie.”

“You’re so flushed,” Margot fussed. “Your cheeks are bright red.”

He took two steps back, putting space between himself and the women, and using Margot’s body to hide any telltale bulging until his sudden, unexplained libido took a rest.

The last few minutes had been a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t explain, just as he’d experienced in his office earlier. Fleeting wisps of familiarity, disappointment, confusion, even a fast moment of fear, before finally culminating in the sudden rush of desire. The instant he’d touched her shoulder he’d wanted nothing less than to clear the room of everyone there, throw her round bottom up on the bar, rip her undergarments off from under that damnably short dress, and slam the hell into her.

With one hand across his brow, he massaged his temples. His thoughts had turned crazy. Not that his desire was completely without reason.

Lexi Cross.

Gorgeous. Smart. Forthright.

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