Free Timeless Heart by Karyn Gerrard Page A

have
ever...taken the time to explore tenderly, to see to your pleasure.
I felt I could trust you enough to show you what seemingly
disgusted Ruth."
    Sandra took a sip of her wine. "You had sex
with your fiancé?"
    "God's blood, no. She barely let me kiss her. I
made the mistake, during one rare passionate embrace, to voice my
expectations of our marital bed. I believe that is when she threw
me over for a viscount."
    Sandra smiled over her wine glass. She was the
furthest thing from disgusted. Wild animal sex. She liked it. Ah
hell, who was she kidding, she loved it. At least, with Jerrod.
What a mix of a man he was. Affectionate and passionate, wild and
savage. Carnal tenderness. What more could she want in a lover? It
deepened her feelings even more, if that were possible, that he was
so concerned he had hurt her in some way.
    His honesty made her want to talk about things
she had never discussed before. Sandra began to speak. She felt
closer to him at this moment than anyone in her life. She told him
the reason she was on a leave of absence. He listened, did not
interrupt. When the tears began to spill down her cheeks, he pulled
her closer to him.
    "My sweet, it was not your fault. It was an
accident. The person driving the automobile car, must feel the same
as you, but it was not his fault anymore that it is yours. It is
tearing you apart."
    "Until you came into my life, I felt like I
would fall into a pit of despair, but you rescued me, Jerrod. I
will never forget you for that. Thank you." She reached up and
stroked his cheek tenderly.
    He kissed her hand again. "And you helped me as
well. I swore I would never expose my heart to a woman again, for
her to smash into bits, but you let me open up, feel. I am
eternally grateful."
    Sandra sighed. He did not speak of love, but
perhaps that was for the best. Maybe he didn't love her, but if she
helped thaw the frost around his heart, then she was
thankful.
    And into the wee small hours of the morning,
they made love as if they both knew the end was drawing
near.
     
    ****
     
    Jerrod watched as she slept, curled in his
arms, naked and smiling. She looked well sated. Well loved. He must
be insane, ready for Bedlam, for planning to leave this luscious,
lovely woman. He had been convinced he would never find the woman
for him, but he had. In the future, of all bloody places. A future
that still was a puzzle to him, one he knew he would never truly
understand. He had only been here ten days, and already he was
getting used to the hot and cold running water, the flushing
commodes, the electricity. Hot food in an instant. The
overabundance of goods and foodstuffs. He had never seen the like,
not even at a fair or market back in Cornwall. Anything you could
want, available. For a price.
    If he stayed, what would he become, a kept man?
He would be wholly dependent on Sandra for his very survival. It
was not something he could readily accept. It was not the way he
was raised. He was, and would always stay, a man of his time. He
was of the gentry, a rich country landowner, a man many looked up
to, counted on. Whose family could be traced into antiquity. How
could he become one of those pathetic men who latched onto a woman
for money and comforts? He had seen a few in London. Male whores.
Escorts. A cicisbeo. Men paraded about the ballrooms like a poodle
on a leash.
    He glanced at Sandra, who sighed contently in
her sleep. Sandra was not like those painted matrons who kept
pretty young men as pets. She would not degrade him so, he knew
that, instinctively. But he would feel that way, nonetheless. He
had no means, no identity. He was a nobody in a strange
world.
    He would be a kept man, repaying her the only
way he knew how, with his body. Even though now they were caught up
in the discovery of newness, and maybe even love, it would be
destroyed, ultimately. They were too far apart, the chasm of time
too wide. He would grow to resent her. And he did not want that.
His feelings were raw,