Timeless Heart Read Online Free PDF

clean shaven.
    She couldn’t resist stroking that glorious skin
of his as he sat down at the kitchen table. Her hand reached out
and touched his cheek, soft and warm, feathery as down over those
chiseled cheekbones. Her fingers lingered, following the outline of
his rugged chin, her thumb grazing just under his full lower lip,
tracing the sexy mole that sat at the left corner of his mouth. She
pulled her hand away reluctantly, her eyes locked on
his.
    He took her hand and pressed one of the gold
sovereigns in it, he closed her fingers. He stroked her hand
gently.
    "For your unwavering kindness and generosity,"
he whispered seductively.
    What could she do, but accept his gesture? She
did not want to insult him, or worse, anger him. He lifted her hand
to his lips, a mix of hard and soft, tenderness, and something far
more dangerous.
    She always laughed in the romance novels she
read when the heroine practically had an orgasm at the slightest
touch of the man's hand, but she understood it now.
    Oh yes. She was ready to come herself. His lips
continued to explore every part of her hand, gently nibbling on her
knuckles. This was getting intense far too fast. Her mind was
whirling, her breath quickened, her nipples hardened, and she could
feel warmth between her thighs. Her senses were off the charts.
What the hell was this? What was she doing, what was she thinking?
She pulled her hand away abruptly, and catching her breath, stepped
back.
    His eyebrow cocked in confusion, but he said
nothing. Sandra exhaled. She thought she was turned on when she
shaved him. Those lips of his! If she was this sexually aroused
from him kissing her hand, what would happen if those full sensuous
lips came in contact with other parts of her overheated body? Get a
grip, Sandra.
    She shook her head, not now. Like Scarlett
O'Hara, she would think about that tomorrow, because if she thought
of it now, she would go crazy. Jerrod looked up at her intensely.
His blue eyes shimmered like sapphires, hooded with what she could
only hope was desire. Every look, every slight touch carried an
undercurrent of raw heat.
    "Jerrod, why don't you go in the living room
where it's more comfortable? I'll bring the tea in there when it's
ready."
    He gave her a full bore sexy smile that made
her insides flutter tremulously. "Earl Grey?" he asked
hopefully.
    God he was adorable, and loved drinking tea as
much as she did.
    "Sure."
    She watched as he stood and strode confidently
from the room. Even watching him walk was an assault on her
senses.
    He had been here two days, and her interest,
and more importantly her desire, had not abated one bit, that was
damned obvious. Sandra tried to distract herself from her own
longings by trying to show him everything in her world that she
could. However, they did not discuss history in any detail, and he
didn’t seem curious about it. Perhaps, both understood deep down,
that if he could be returned to 1821, the less he knew, the better.
And what if they could not return him? Then what? Yes, she was
becoming convinced of his story as time went by, but a few doubts
still lingered. He was convincing. But it was impossible. She shook
her head and began to fill the kettle with water.
    After several minutes passed, Sandra heard a
shout of dismay coming from the living room.
    “God’s Blood! Sandra!”
    She almost dropped the teapot from her hand. He
ran into the kitchen, looking stricken. “Bodies on the beach, blood
everywhere, in that box contraption! I’ve never seen the like,
never have I dreamt such carnage, how is it possible?”
    The terror and confusion on his face and in his
voice was plain to see. Oh hell, he must have turned on the TV. She
hadn’t a chance to explain it yet. Her heart ached for Jerrod. She
put down the pot, and reached for his hand. “Come on, I’ll explain
the best I can.”
    As they walked into the living room, the sounds
of destruction, bombs and screaming filled the room. Oh hell, of
all things, the