Free Wandering Soul by Cassandra Chandler Page B

dreamlike quality. They didn’t just talk about what he was learning, but about art and creativity itself. He was turning out to be even more amazing than she had expected. Considerate, kind, intelligent, artistic. He was everything she wanted and couldn’t let herself have.
    Dante stood, but paused before he left. His lips parted as if he was about to say something, but instead, he gently lifted Elsa’s hand and kissed her knuckles so softly she barely felt his lips.
    Fire flooded her body. His warm breath on her skin was like a spark set to kindling longing for a flame. Dante released her hand as he stood, and she had to stifle the urge to reach out to him. He bowed, then walked briskly through the studio doors, as if he was as eager to return as she was to see him again.
    Elsa couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he left. His broad shoulders perfectly offset his tapered waist. His legs were long, his backside… She should not be thinking about his backside. Or any side of him. Not while drooling, anyway.
    Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the lounge chair, taking deep, steady breaths. She had not brought Dante to her time so that they could have a relationship. Well, other than a lasting friendship she hoped they’d develop. He needed to be free to do as he wished with whomever he wished.
    There were plenty of women in her time that would be just as flattered by his attentions. He needed to know he had a choice. He needed to be completely independent if there was ever a chance for something more between him and Elsa. Otherwise, she would never know if what he felt was love or gratitude.
    He had already said he felt indebted to her, and a sense of obligation would be the worst of all. Her heart bunched up in her chest, reality crushing her dreams underfoot like an empty tin can.
    Dante would never be independent. He had no identification, and Elsa had no idea how to get him any. It was the one part of her plan she hadn’t been able to figure out. Ironically, she had run out of time.
    She could sense that the moments in his life that she could connect with through the ring were almost used up. She couldn’t visit the same moment twice. When she had seen he was about to die, she had to bring him back right then.
    She didn’t know what to do. Even broaching the topic would raise questions about who Dante was, where he had come from, and most importantly, how he had arrived. If the wrong person found out, they would both wind up in a lab.
    If he decided he wanted reconstructive surgery when she told him about it, who knew what his bloodwork would show. Elsa had already tested the waters with Garrett to see if Dante sounded like a good candidate, but even if she paid the bill, Dante would still need identification before anyone would operate on him.
    There were too many variables, too many things she couldn’t control. She closed her eyes, pushing all the thoughts away. He was here, now. He was safe. She would keep him that way.
    Imagining them as a couple was a dangerous dream to have in the first place. She knew firsthand the harsh realities of how relationships could change people—bring out the worst in them. She needed to keep that reality as a shield, to protect herself from wanting too much, from hoping for more.
    She could dream up as many “happily ever after” endings involving Dante as she wanted. But he was a real human being, with human failings. A human temper.
    â€œElsa! Are you okay?”
    Elsa jumped at the unexpected voice coming from the side of the house. She glanced over at the path to see Rachel running toward her.
    This was a nightmare. Rachel was Elsa’s chattiest friend. As Jazz’s assistant in the gallery, Rachel’s outgoing nature was useful. When trying to keep something private, she was the last person Elsa would want to involve.
    The white of Rachel’s jeans was blinding in the late afternoon sun. A matching white purse was