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AN ERA APART is available for only 1,99$ here https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/306
Today, it’s my pleasure to post an excerpt.
What in the Hell . . . ?
Tracy was sure she had typed in the correct code. Unless the telepod was malfunctioning, she couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. She’d better reset the program and try again. Opening the door, she stepped back out into the secret basement. In front of her, the computers looked fine, doing the job they were meant to do. No screeching sirens, no furiously blinking lights, no disturbing smoke clouds.
“There you are. It is about time.”
Tracy stifled a scream. Turning around so quickly that she almost fell, she located the source of the voice: a tall, elegant man, standing at the foot of the stairs, watching her. Heart pounding, she couldn’t move. Who was he? How did he get here? What did he want with her?
“Are you planning on standing there all day?” he said with a hint of impatience.
Under a topcoat, he was wearing a three-piece suit: a black sack coat with matching trousers and a white vest, fastened high on the chest, under a dotted necktie. He could have been in his early thirties, his old-fashioned suit even matching his posh English accent. Although he looked cold and unfriendly, she didn’t feel threatened. What she felt was something very different and very inappropriate. Now wasn’t a good time to blush, but, looking at his strong face and lean body, sudden intimate images swirled in her mind, swirled and danced as if alive: his shirt slowly sliding down his shoulders, his hand reaching for the button on his pants, his smoldering eyes beckoning her to touch him. Naked images so vivid she felt desire licking her. Such an unpredictable reaction to a total stranger, she
didn’t know what to make of it.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Garrett Burnes.” He was tapping his fingers on the banister.
“Ah!” So that’s what Dad meant!
“I take it you have heard of me,” he said matter-of-factly.
“When. . . how did you get in?”
A light smirk on his full lips, he pointed to the top of the stairs. “Time is of the essence, Miss Richardson, and I do not have any to spare for stupid questions. We already ought to be on our way.”
Who did he think he was to call her stupid? “Let me tell you something, Mister Burnes: I’m not going anywhere with you, no matter what you–”
“William informed me you were a stubborn child,” he interrupted. “I believed he was exaggerating, but I dare say it is a reputation well deserved.”
“My father would never . . . ” She choked on the words, seeing red. “Never say such a thing!”
“Therefore, you shall come with me!”
That was an interesting turn of events, cooling her down. Had this man been walking around with a top hat and a cane, Tracy would have thought him straight out of the nineteenth century. She had studied so many paintings during her senior year that the pictures were imprinted in her mind. His outfit was eccentric, old-fashioned, yet he appeared young, dashing. She eyed him from head to toe.
“You haven’t been to Barney’s recently, have you?” she said with a hint of mockery.
He shot her a blank look.
“I’m only saying this because you . . . .” Smiling, she gestured with her hand. “Well, you know what I mean. That suit is a killer!”
“Good God! Am I to presume you have no knowledge of your situation? Do you not know where you are?”
Tracywas having doubts about trusting this man. Handsome, yes. Attractive, yes. Hot, freaking yes. Kind and honest, that was a different matter altogether. What had her dad seen in him?
“In my basement.” She stated the obvious, starting to wonder if his good looks matched a feeble mind.
He shook his head. “William hasn’t told you, has he?”
“Told me what?”
“Have you really come through this machinery without any knowledge of your destination?” He took a step toward her. She edged toward the computer chair.
“Sure, but it isn’t working, and I don’t know why.”
“It is working perfectly.”
The guy must be on the edge of insanity: charming and interesting, but whacko. He was watching her, and she could see a new glint in his eyes. What was it? Maybe something akin to respect? Admiration? Or was he taking pity on her because she was foolhardy?
“You are inSan Francisco–”
“No, I’m pretty sure this is Sausalito.” Could she use anything on the desk as a weapon? Tracy wasn’t sure how the crazy man had entered her father’s lab, and she reckoned she’d better be a little more cautious.
“In 1899.” He finished the statement with dark eyes glued to her face.