The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

champagne, which made her head swim from anxiety and fear. How long had it been since she’d injured her foot? Weeks? She’d been scared to death that she’d die because of the injury, and now here she was facing another terror. But this time, thank God, she knew from the outset that she wasn’t alone.

As she waited for them to finish eating, she refilled everyone’s champagne glass, then placed the empty bottle upside down in the bucket. Austin straightened his legs out under the table and accidentally nudged her calf.

“Ouch,” she said.

“Sorry. I misjudged how much room I had.”

“I thought you were always aware of how much space you had to do your thing!”

“I do.” He winked. “So why aren’t you eating?”

“My stomach’s upset. When I get worried or stressed, that’s where it hits me.”

“JL’s like that. I can always tell when something’s on her mind. She glares at food as if it’s the enemy.”

Austin went back to eating, scraping his fork across the china, and she swayed with the rocking train clattering down the tracks, hurtling through the night with two possible assailants onboard.

Remy wiped his face and hands and dropped the napkin next to his plate. “Let’s go back to the drawing room and come up with a plan.”

She wrapped her hand around her glass tight enough to break it. “What’s to stop them from attacking us now?”

“They want us alive—or at least you—and will wait until they believe they have an advantage,” Remy said.

“I know self-defense. I’ll fight,” she said. “But if you have to shoot me, you know, like in the arm or leg, to get to them and save us all, do it.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Silence ticked the moments away before Austin added, “Remy and I would rather die than hurt you.”

“I don’t mean, kill me. I mean—”

“Give it up, Ensley. Neither one of us will shoot you or at you, unless…” Austin dropped his voice, “it’s to save you from something horrific, something worse than death.”

She shivered. “Like when Heyward in The Last of the Mohicans is being burned alive, and Hawkeye shoots him so he won’t suffer more?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Remy knocked on the table. “Can I have your attention?”

She and Austin looked at Remy, who arched an eyebrow at them, while out of the corner of her eye, she saw him do something weird with his fingers like a baseball coach giving the runner signals. But she dismissed it, thinking he was playing a miniature drum set.

“We should return to the drawing room now and set up our defenses there. Both of you need to focus on how this is going down. I’ll lead, and Austin will bring up the rear. Stay close to him, Ensley, and stay loose. If I do anything strange, just follow along and wing it.”

“Like what?” she demanded, feeling a little testy.

Remy gave her a what the hell look. “I doan know.”

Well, hell, she didn’t know, either, and the unknown was killing her. She jumped up, knocking her chair to the floor, and shook her finger at him. “Don’t get short with me, Army guy. You know lots of things I don’t know. I’m just a book editor from New York—” She dropped her finger, cringing. She’d avoided telling Austin what she did for a living or what she used to do, and now she just screwed up and blurted it out.

“A book editor from New York City?” Austin asked. “Who do you work for?”

“I don’t work for a publishing company…now.”

“Who did you work for? Harper Collinsworth?”

She looked at him, and their eyes met. It was like a thunderbolt, and it hurt like hell, and she felt like a horrible person, and she knew he was feeling the same way about her.

“Ensley Williams, editor, Harper Collinsworth. Oh, yeah, I recognized you from your picture on the website.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I wanted to see your face when you discovered I knew all along you’re the editor who rejected my manuscript.”

Her frantic, chaotic mind waffled between being pissed as hell and guilty as hell. She framed her face, making a little box with her fingers and thumb, and gave him a fake smile. “I hope my reaction meets your expectations?”

Remy pushed to his feet. “Can you two shut the fuck up?” He opened the door, looked out, closed it again. “They’re not hanging out in the corridor, so they’re probably in the kitchen. If you two can put a hold on your argument until we’re safe, I’d appreciate the cooperation.”

The muscles in Austin’s jaw ticked. “Sure. Let’s roll.”

She lined up a foot behind Remy and glanced over her shoulder at Austin, who was standing two big feet away. “I don’t know why you’re pissed now if you’ve known the truth for days. Can you explain that?”

“It reminds me of how shocked I was when you rejected my manuscript. It’s a damn good book, and it would have put me on the best seller lists.”

She made a T with her hands. “Time out.”

“Damn, woman.” Austin took her hands. “A time out T is made by putting your fingertips to your flat hand. Not the flat of your hand. You don’t know anything about sports, do you?”

Her lip curled while anger and disappointment warred for the privilege of taking a swing at him. “I don’t know much, but that’s not what we’re fighting about.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“We aren’t? Good. Then let’s shelve this for later when I have time to explain my decision.”

“Your decision was obvious. You thought my writing sucked.”

“If that’s what you think, then you didn’t read my letter.”

He leaned away from her. “Whoa. Never saw a letter. I just heard you thought it wasn’t worth your time.”

She stared at him, hands on her hips. If she could annihilate him with a death ray, she would. “Damn, Austin. There’s a lot more to it. Didn’t your agent send you a copy of my letter?”

“I told him I didn’t want it. The bottom line was all