Andrew Merrick was whisked from his home in England, 1848 to another time, the very day a mob had attacked his family. Wondering why he remains in this strange place, all he wants is find the treasure his father had hidden, hoping this might take Andrew back home. But he’s running out of time. When he meets a lovely woman in this strange new era, he feels she is the one who will help him.
Halle Chapman has come to England to find her missing father. What she finds instead is a nice man who claims he’s from the past. Although she doesn’t believe in time-travel, deep in her heart, she knows she must help Andrew. What she finds instead is discovering the key to her future lies in the past. Now, to return to her own time, she needs to solve the mystery surrounding Andrew Merrick and his family’s murder.
Within seconds, the sky opened up and buckets of water dumped on them. By the time they made it to the gazebo, they were wet clear through. Halle laughed and hugged her arms around her chest, her damp, long hair hanging in her face. He set the basket on the bench and turned to Halle. She shivered so much it worried him. Out of the basket, he pulled the blanket, thankfully still mostly dry, and wrapped it around her shoulders. As she clutched the covering around her body, he brushed back the hair from her face. “Leave it to England’s weather to ruin a perfect afternoon.”
She laughed. “No kidding. I’d heard about your rainstorms, but this is the first I’ve experienced it firsthand.”
He glanced outside as rain fell around them. “To think, this is mild compared to most storms.”
Taking a deep breath, she tightened the blanket. “Are you cold?”
“I thank you for worrying, but no, I shall be fine.” He ran his hands down his arms and over his shirt to remove excess water. When he raised his gaze to hers, she was looking at his chest again. Glancing down, he realized why. The wet material melted to him like second skin, emphasizing his muscular frame that gratefully, traveling through time hadn’t taken away from him…yet.
When her eyes rose to meet his, her face flamed and she shyly backed away and sat on the bench. “I didn’t expect to get so cold. It was such a nice day earlier.”
“It’s just because you’re wet.” He sat beside her and rubbed up and down her arms. “Do you feel any better?”
She nodded. “A little, thanks.”
He leaned back against the wall of the gazebo and looked up at the new roof. Running, his fingers through his hair, he pushed the wet strands back on his head. The rainstorm’s timing couldn’t have been worse—or was the perfect time to interrupt the story? He didn’t want to see the look in her eyes of unbelief, especially when he told her he was Lord Andrew Merrick and had come forward in time.
Sighing heavily, he turned his head to look at her. Once again, her gaze skimmed over his body, from the top of his head slowly down to his boots. When she met his eyes, confusion marred their depths.
“Andrew? I can’t help but notice how much you look like Lord Andrew Merrick’s portrait.”
Maybe telling her the truth wouldn’t be so hard after all.
He smiled. “It pleases me to know you think this. I’m also happy to know you don’t think I resemble the marquis instead.” Since the wrinkles and streaks of gray hair would certainly put him at his father’s age.
“No, not Marquis Harrington.” She rubbed her chin. “But I wonder why you look like his son so much. And why—” Her attention dropped to his chest once more— “Why you don’t look your age,” she ended in a whisper.
He pulled away from the wall and leaned closer to her. “What age do you think I look?”
Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t draw back. “I’m a bad one to ask that question to. I know I’ll get it wrong.”
“Try anyway,” he encouraged. “I won’t be offended, I assure you.”
She crinkled her forehead. “I’d say early forties.”
He placed his hand on her knee, and thankfully, she didn’t try to pull back. “Halle, what would you say if I told you I was nine and twenty?”
See the book trailer - http://youtu.be/E1C_IKJqwC4