Katia jumps at the chance to go to England with her best
friend after Rose ditches her deadbeat boyfriend. While walking through the
market, she spies a large mansion and recognizes the guy out front as her high
school friend Tony. Just as they start to reconnect, Katia passes through times
and lands in the arms of Lord Landon, who looks like Tony but certainly doesn’t
act like him.
Soon, Katia learns that this 1815 is different from the one
in history books. Trapped in a parallel world, Katia struggles to not fall for
Landon but his charm proves too much for her. Just when she is about to confess
her love for him, Katia travels through time yet again.
The course of love never did run smooth and if Katia can’t
figure out and master the test of time, she’ll never see or friends again, or
worse, never be reunited with Landon.
Katia Willgrave stared at the vendor's
products. A blue silk scarf drew her attention, but the price the British
salesman asked for was more than she could afford. Not if she wanted to be able
to buy dinner tonight.
She glanced up. Most of the rest of
her travel group had already made their way down the street, but still she dawdled,
enjoying the sights and the sounds. She and her best friend had settled on this
trip after Rose ditched her jerk wad of a boyfriend. Originally, Rose and Derek
had planned it together.
His
loss, my gain.
She breathed in the fresh air. Some moisture hung in the air, but she did not
mind, having spent a good deal of her childhood in Seattle. Then her father's
job relocated their family to the East Coast.
But she did not want to think about
her father right now, think about her own losses.
Rose was haggling with another vendor,
and Katia smiled. If anyone knew how to get their way, it was Rose. She flipped
her blond hair over her shoulder, and Katia snickered. The vendor didn't stand
a chance. The pink tips of Rose's hair caught the last streaming remnants of
sunlight.
After catching Derek hooting around,
Rose had dragged Katia to the beauty parlor. In solidarity, Katia had the last
inch of her almost black hair dyed a midnight blue. Only when the light caught
her hair just right was the blue visible. She had expected to hate the color
and figured she'd have it cut off in a week, but it had lasted a month now, and
she often thought about dying it all to match.
Wouldn't
Bob die if I did?
Her boss was a stickler for everything. The editor-in-chief of the biggest
newspaper in Philadelphia, he was no-nonsense and expected the same from his
employees. I'm just glad he gave me the
time off.
Her feet had continued walking as her
mind wandered, and she reached the edge of the street. The rest of the group
headed to the east, following their guide like lost sheep.
Feeling impulse, Katia moved to the
west. The land stretched out here, into soft hills, and she just wanted to see
the sights over the ridge. She'd keep the tour group in sight.
She reached the crest. A tall, mansion
stood in the distance, majestic and awe-inspiring. Before Katia could grab her
camera, a hand touched her arm. Rose, wearing new huge dangling earrings,
sported a wide grin. "You wanna get lost?"
"Why not?" Katia smiled
back. She had never felt more relaxed since she had come. Between the stress of
deadlines and the incompetent nature of her staff—Bob liked to hire those with
less qualifications to save a few bucks—Katia needed this as much as Rose did,
albeit for different reasons.
"Find a hot English guy first,"
Rose reasoned, her grin growing wider.
"Like that guy you were chatting
up at the café at lunch?"
They fell into step together as they
rejoined the tail edge of the group. "Precisely. He's taking me out to
dinner tonight. Henry." She all but swooned.
"You and your rebounds."
Katia shook her head.
"Hey!" Rose knocked her hip
into Katia's. "Okay, well, Derek had been a rebound. Maybe a rebound of a
rebound is different. I mean, it's not like I want to marry the guy. Just hear
him talk. Gotta love an accent."
Katia couldn't disagree there.
"Besides, you haven't gone out in
forever yourself."
"I've gone out," Katia
protested.
"I don't mean with me." Rose
pursed her full, pink-painted lips. She had no problem getting guys to ask for
her number or to buy her drinks. Katia, on the other hand, didn't. Work was all
she had time for. Especially after…
Not now.
"Don't worry. I promise I won't
eat dinner by myself since you're ditching me."
Rose's eyes took on a faraway look. "Henry…
Remind me to ask him if he has a brother."
Katia laughed. Their tour guide shot
them a "hurry up" look but they meandered, taking their time. What
else was the point of a vacation? Their first time in Europe. They definitely
wanted to take it all in.
Maybe after dinner, she could come
back and snap a picture of that mansion. Ever since she was a little girl, she
had always imagined she'd live in a place like that. Strange how similar the
mansion resembled her dream one.
****
By the time dinner rolled around, and
Rose had left for her date, looking like a model in a slick red dress and cute
wedge sandals, Katia opted for a stroll by her lonesome. Their tour guide had
repeated to them all endlessly not to stray from the group, but it would not be
late for hours, and besides, this was England. Everyone spoke English. It wasn't
as if she was in Germany or Spain. She'd be fine.
Her own sandals soon dug into her
toes, and Katia untied them and carried them over her shoulder. Down into
market she went and beyond, back to the same hill as before. The mansion crept
into view like a castle floating above a mist. A fog had rolled in, making the
mansion seem more dreamlike than before. With turrets and towers on either end,
numerous windows, arches and flags, the building seemed too perfect to be real.
Mesmerized by its beauty, almost
unaware of what she was doing, Katia moved toward the mansion. Despite the
distance between them, she drew nearer far quicker than she would have thought.
Rose bushes lined the paved walkway leading up to the front door, the grass
trimmed short and impossibly green.
One perfect rose caught her gaze, and
she bent down to sniff it. The floral scent filled her nose, and she closed her
eyes, drinking it in.
"Can I help you?"
Broken from whatever trace had called
her here, Katia jerked up and backward until she bumped into the twin bush on
the other side of the walkway. A thorn snagged her skin. Not completely perfect after all.
"I…" She took in the man
before her, his bare chest and heaving muscles. A bead of sweat eased down the
ripples of his abs, and she forced her gaze up to his face. "Tony, is that
you?"
Nearly impossible to recognize the
scrawny, nerdy boy from high school as the man standing in front of her. A lot
had happened since they graduated in six years.
"In the flesh." He glanced
down at his bare chest, and a flush colored his cheeks. "What are you
doing here, Katia?"
Knowing she couldn't return his question
although she was dying to know why he was here—perhaps he works here—Katia gestured to the mansion. Up close,
mansion did not seem to fit how massive the house was. "I wanted a closer
look," she explained lamely.
He chuckled and ran a cloth over his
face before draping it over one huge shoulder. "Want a tour?"
"I would love one."
Tony Wilson moved toward the front
door, but she hesitated. "I had assumed you wanted a tour of the interior."
He cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows raising, disappearing within his
bushy brown hair.
In high school, he'd always sported a
crew cut. This style, wild and crazy, just begging to be fixed, suited him
quite well. Ugh, I'm going to turn into
Rose at this rate.
She cleared her throat and stared at
his mud-coated sneakers.
"What is it?" He crossed his
arms, his muscles flexing with the simple movement. "You have that look in
your eye."
"What look?"
"The 'I'm dying to ask a question'
look." His chuckle was as warm and inviting as it had been in high school,
and she joined in, just like old times. She had never had this flutter in her
chest back then, though. Each year, she had had a different crush, but she had
never fallen for her good old friend Tony.
Unable to hold back any longer, Katia
burst out, "What are you doing
here? What is this place? What have you been up to? Why didn't you go to our
high school reunion last year? You never kept in touch like you said you would."
Tony laughed again. "Poke a hole
in the dam and a flood of questions pour forth. Should've known better. I'm
here because this…" He held out his arms. "…is mine."
Katia lifted her gaze from him to the
mansion to the rose bushes to the lawn and back to Tony. "All of it?"
He nodded. "My grandparents lived
here for years. There was some kind of mix up with the deed for a while and
then my parents died and somehow, yeah, Philamore Mansion is mine."
"Wait, your parents died?"
Curse her and her reporter mind for wanting to know every detail. She crossed
the distance between them and placed her hand on his arm. Wow, rock hard
biceps. "I am so sorry."
A veiled look crossed his eyes for a
moment before disappearing. "So once the deed was changed to be in my
name, I moved here. Wasn't making any name for myself with my screenplays
anyhow. Too tough a business. Instead, I've been fixing up the place and
working here and there, doing what I can." He nodded to the left, where a
hole was dug. "Gonna plant a tree there, for shade. Far enough to not
block direct view of the mansion. I'll plant another over there." Tony
pointed to the right. "I forget what question was next."
Her mouth turned dry. How she wanted
to open up to him, to share with him her own misery so that he didn't have to
feel so alone, but she couldn't bring herself too. The hurt in his eyes had
been so great as it was. She would not risk adding to it. "Our reunion."
But the pain returned to his blue
eyes. "Too busy," he said, his voice clipped and curt. "Next."
"Wasn't a question so I'll
rephrase. Why didn't you keep in touch after we graduated?"
"It takes two to keep in touch,"
he pointed out.
True. Oh so true. Katia could have
called or texted or emailed. She was just as much to blame as he was. A lump
formed in her chest, and she failed to rub it away. "I'm here with my
college roommate, Rose. She's into sports medicine. A real fitness nut. Thought
about being a fitness model but she likes chocolate a little too much."
Tony nodded politely. "And you?
World famous reporter yet?"
"Have you read any of my
articles?"
He shook his head. "Can't say I
have. Not any that weren't under the heading Mount Holly High."
"Then I'm not world famous yet. I
am a reporter though."
"Good for you. Now, about that
tour…"
At that moment, Katia's stomach
grumbled. Heat rose to her face, and she crossed her arms over her stomach,
praying he hadn't heard it. Her mother used to say her stomach could wake the
dead.
And of course, Tony heard it. His grin
erased her discomfort. "I'm hungry too. First stop, the kitchen."
"No, no, I don't mean to impose."
That laugh again. So relaxing, the
antithesis of his anguish. She'd do anything to keep him happy. "You
marched on to private property but no, you didn't mean to impose." His
gaze traveled over her body, noting her summer dress, her bare feet, and
windblown hair. A strand blew into her face, and he caught it. Another gust of
wind blew it out of his hand. "Blue," he noted, his voice colored
with surprise.
"You like?"
"It suits you. Now, before you
stomach demands substance again…"
She scowled.
He held out his arm for her to take.
Once she did, he led her toward the house. "Don't act like this is the
first time I've heard it. Come."
They passed pillars on their way to
the front door, which creaked upon opening. A few boards groaned beneath their
feet as they walked inside. Katia gasped. They were standing in a ballroom
straight out of the days of old.
"My grandparents kept this floor
in great condition. The others, not so much." He removed his sneakers and
allowed her a few minutes to walk around, to see the various paintings up
close, to take in the ornate crown molding, before moving past a curtain to a
concealed hallway.
"I thought your grandparents
lived in Manhattan."
"My father's parents did. This
belonged to my mother's parents. I never met them. They hated planes, or so I
was told."
Planes. Katia shuddered.
"Are you cold?" Tony entered
the massive kitchen. The island in the center alone was a large as the kitchen
Katia and Rose shared in their apartment back home. No, the island had to be
larger. Despite being outfitted with a double oven, as well as one built into
the island, and other modern commodities, even the kitchen had an old-time feel
to it. "I can get you a coat."
"I'm fine." But she wasn't.
Her mouth had grown so dry Niagara Falls could not moisten it. Her breathing
grew short, and her vision spotted. She had attempted to sit onto one of the
stools near the island, but she missed. Down she fell, and her head connected
with the ground.
