The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance Katherine Logan (no david read aloud TXT) 📖

want our first time to be on the ground at sunset, although that does sound romantic. But if we return to the mansion all disheveled, Sean will frown at us. And I don’t want to offend our hosts.”

“You’re right. But help me understand something. If it wasn’t important for us to look presentable when we returned, you might consider doing it here?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m holding out for a big bed, so you can show me how to make love with a man twice my size.”

He rolled back his head and laughed. “Oh, darlin’. It might seem impossible, but it’s not. We’ll fit just fine. All you have to do is trust me not to hurt you.”

She met his gaze with her usual immutable calm. “Everything about you invites trust, from your commanding stature to your sharp eyes and ready smile. Plus, you saved my life. How could I not trust you?”

A faint carnal tremor raced through him. Faint? Bullshit. It was a tsunami. And he wanted her more than he ever wanted a championship ring. And that was saying a hell of a lot.

The stroll back to the mansion was tense, but only because they were going in the wrong direction—away from privacy and possibility while watching the sun dip lower in the sky. And when they reached the house, Austin was relieved the company had left, leaving everyone exhausted except Braham.

“Austin, let’s play chess.”

“Good, you do that,” Emily said. “I’ve been trying to get a few minutes alone with Ensley. You two go play while we find a quiet place to talk for a while.”

Ensley gave him a mellow smile that tilted the corners of her mouth upward just slightly, and his heart snagged on the soft, erotic way she looked at him. “Maybe I’ll see you later?” he asked.

Emily grabbed Ensley’s arm. “We can drink an entire bottle of wine before those two play best two out of three.”

“Ye better not be drinking a bottle of wine,” Braham said. “Charlotte would shoot me.”

“You know me, Uncle Braham. I’m careful.” Then to Ensley, she said. “They are the slowest chess players I’ve ever seen.”

“Not tonight, Emily,” Austin said. “If I have to blow a game to finish sooner, I will.”

Braham laughed. “Ye’d never do that. Ye’re too competitive. Sean has the chessboard set up in the library, and I have something ye can’t refuse.” He dipped his hand into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out two cigars.

Austin glanced back at Ensley. “Uncle Braham, you know I don’t smoke cigars.”

Braham laughed. “If Ensley doesn’t know you like them as much as Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley, Shaquille O’Neal, Karl Malone, and Steph Curry, then she’ll find out now.”

“Steph Curry?” Ensley asked.

“Only when he celebrates,” Austin said.

“The first time I saw JC with a cigar,” she said, “I had a fit and told him to get the nasty thing out of the house. But since then, I’ve discovered that puffing on a good cigar just slows everything down and allows smokers to relax. And you, my dear, deserve that tonight. So enjoy it.”

“I’m curious. Where’d you learn that about cigars?” Austin asked.

“I edited the Unequaled Cigar Book and even smoked a few myself.”

Braham clapped Austin on the shoulder. “Looks like ye’ve found the perfect girl. Don’t let her get away.” He handed Austin a cigar, and he held it to his nose for a moment, taking in the sweet aroma.

Braham was damn right. He winked at Ensley. No way in hell was he letting her get away from him.

57

MacKlenna Farm, KY (1885)—Austin

Reverend Breckinridge from the Presbyterian Church in Lexington officiated at the funeral the following day, with Braham delivering his uncle’s eulogy.

Austin was worried that the minister, who was as old as Christmas, might not make it through the service. But he did, then finished it off with a glass of whisky—or maybe two—before one of his parishioners carted him home.

It wasn’t only Donald McCabe’s death that hung over the family like black shrouds. It was worry over JC, concern for Elliott and Meredith, and fear that the Illuminati would strike again.

After everyone departed late in the day, Braham asked Austin and Cullen to meet him in Sean’s office.

Austin was the last one to arrive and closed the door behind him. Braham was staring out the window that overlooked the paddock and turned when Austin entered. Cullen sat in one of the wingback chairs fronting the fireplace, thumbing through The Naval War of 1812 by Theodore Roosevelt.

“Are you interested in the War of 1812 or the author?” Austin asked.

Cullen closed the book and set it aside. “After Rick and Penny’s and Pete and Sophia’s involvement in the war, I’ve read several books, but I missed Roosevelt’s contribution. Sean said it’s the definitive book on the subject.”

“Let’s hope no one in the family has to fight that one again. So what’s going on? I told Ensley I didn’t know what you have in mind but that it was important.”

“What are the women doing?” Braham asked.

“Sitting on the veranda watching Kit sketch pictures of her daughters. It makes a man self-conscious when a group of women can’t stop spitting iced tea because they’re laughing so hard.”

“The girls are exactly like their mother,” Cullen said wistfully. “We’ve missed them and the grandchildren terribly.”

“Enough to return permanently?” Braham asked.

Cullen stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “I wish I knew the answer to that. Kit and I have tabled the decision for now. It’s easier to leave it hanging than to commit. The girls are happy, involved in their causes, and don’t need us to take care of the children. But still…” Cullen finished his thought with a slow shake of his head.

Braham came around the desk and propped his butt cheek on one corner. “One day, we’ll be able to travel back and forth freely, without worrying we might get stuck somewhere, but for now, without ye around, I’d be lost.”

Austin grinned. “You can’t leave,