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

“Well, hell. Since you haven’t read it, I’ll write another one and address it to you. And I’ll soften my response. But why are we talking about this right now?”

“Why not? We could be dead in five minutes.”

“Good. Then I’m glad you brought it up. I’d hate to die without telling you I was the wrong person to read your manuscript. Someone who didn’t have a prejudice against professional athletes should have read it.”

He crossed his arms, and every damn muscle in his supersized body figured out how to display itself, even those hidden by a flannel shirt. “Prejudice. I missed out on an offer from a New York publishing company because the editor was too prejudiced to give me an honest evaluation.”

“She’s pissed enough now, man. Let’s go,” Remy said.

She blinked. “What the hell? Pissed enough? Was this all a setup?”

“Sort of,” Austin said.

“God, that pisses me off.”

“Good. We wanted you pissed,” Austin said. “It’ll give you an edge.”

“Wait a minute.” She punched Remy’s arm. “You sent Austin a hand signal. Didn’t you?”

“I doan know what you’re talking about.” Remy returned to the table and picked up the bucket with the empty champagne bottle. “Let’s try this again.” He reached for the doorknob. “If I notice anything, I may veer from the script.”

“What script?”

“The one that says ad-lib all your lines,” Remy said.

Terror seized her, bringing memories of the growling bear and smell of blood and Erik yelling, “Tyr!” as he attacked the grizzly.

“Relax,” Austin whispered in her ear. “I’ve got your back.”

The terror lasted only a second and then vanished like a vapor, allowing her anger to return. She marched into the dark corridor, knowing Austin had her caged in between him and Remy.

Remy stopped at the open kitchen door and held out the bucket. “Excellent choice of champagne. Do you have another chilled bottle?”

“Yes, sir,” the cook said. “We have several.”

“I’ll bring a bottle to the drawing room,” Mr. Bailey said. “And if you require anything else, pull the bell cord, day or night.”

“Why doan I take a bottle with me and save you the trip?” Remy said.

“Certainly.” The cook opened the refrigerator and handed a bottle to Mr. Bailey, who then wrapped it in a cloth napkin and exchanged the full bottle with the empty one.

“Would you prefer I carry it?” Mr. Bailey asked.

“Nope. I can manage.” Remy smiled, but it wasn’t his natural smile. Ensley knew then that this was all for show. He was checking out the cook. So was she. The cook and Bailey wore identical rings with a crossed-keys symbol.

She caught a whiff of the terror that had only just evaporated, but this time it was a chill that blew through her like a winter storm. Austin must have sensed something in her body language because he locked his arms around her, and the two men standing in the kitchen couldn’t help but notice Austin’s protective stance.

Remy accepted the bucket and carried it under his arm. “Let’s go. We have some celebrating to do.”

“Oh, wait. We need glasses,” Ensley said.

Mr. Bailey removed three from the cupboard, and Ensley took them from him. “I’ll carry them, thanks.”

When they reached the drawing room, Remy closed the door, set the bucket aside, and did a pistol press check to make sure he had a round in the chamber. “As I see it, we have two choices. We can kill them both, dump them off the train, and continue our trip to the farm. Or two, return home now and go back later for Kit and Cullen.”

“Even if they’re a threat, I can’t condone killing them,” she said.

“If we do kill them, won’t the people they’re working for come after us?” Austin asked.

Remy holstered his gun. “Yeah, they’ll come after us or try to. But hell, they’d probably come after us anyway, or if they doan, someone else will.”

“I bet David would want to interrogate them, but taking two members of the Illuminati to the plantation would breach Braham’s security,” Austin said. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Remy did a press check of the pistol in his boot. “We can blindfold them, and they woan know where they are.”

Austin did a press check of the automatic in his boot. “How do you plan to disarm them?”

“They’re probably thinking the same thing about us,” Ensley said. “Whatever we’re going to do, we’d better do it now.”

Remy dug into his duffel bag and pulled out a weird-looking gun. “This is a Taser X26P, ready and set to use.”

Austin returned the gun to his boot. “Taser or drug them. I don’t care, but let’s do something before they come in here with guns blazing.”

“They doan want to kill us—yet—but they will once we’re no longer useful.” Remy opened the bottle of champagne and filled the three glasses Ensley was carrying. “How do you think we should play this?”

“Carefully,” Ensley said. “Is there any way we can take this carriage home with us?”

“We could try, but we might end up with the whole damn train,” Austin said. “Kit traveled back with a covered wagon, a cat, a dog, and a Thoroughbred. But I don’t want to risk taking all the passengers. That would be a disaster.”

“How about I go back to my room, stack up the boxes, and ask Mr. Bailey to carry them away? One of you can come in behind him and taser him.”

“I won’t risk you being in your stateroom alone with him,” Austin said. “He could take you hostage. We’ve got to stick together.”

She gave an exasperated huff, set down the glasses, and sat on the sofa before the swaying train knocked her over. “Then do you have a better plan?”

“I agree that whatever we do, we need to do it now,” Remy said. “They could be planning to overpower us tonight and take us off the train at the next stop.”

“Is there a chance we’re overreacting?” she asked.

Austin sat beside her and rested his arm along the back of the sofa.