With proportions that would make Xena weep, Jacqueline Frazier despairs of ever finding a lover she can’t intimidate. Until the day she ignores a warning regarding use of a family heirloom, and finds herself swept off her feet by a knight in not so shining armor, back to the twelfth century. Forced to accept the protection of an overbearing, beast of a man, Rufus of Rathburn, Jacq struggles to find her place in the past while seeking a way back to the future. In the meantime, she aids Rufus’s war cause with a little 21st century ingenuity, shaking up the warlord with lessons in bomb-making, guerilla tactics, and the joys of sex.
At first unwilling, and ungrateful, Rufus begins to see merit in Jacq’s odd ways. Through Jacq’s eccentricities and willfulness, Rufus learns she is a woman to be reckoned with, as well as a lusty handful in bed. Will his admiration of her cunning, strength, and uninhibited sexuality grow into a love that breaks the barriers of time? And will their love be strong enough for Jacq to plot a different future in the past?
Read an excerpt…
The knight left her standing in the tent. With her hands untied.
As the tent flap fell into place, Jacq’s breath caught. Her first thoughts were of escape, but where would she go? She couldn’t run back home. Her home was over eight hundred years and an ocean away. If she escaped this group of soldiers, what other dangers would she find?
What was that saying? Better the devil you know…
Jacq stomped her foot in the dirt. She hated that she needed protection. Especially his! Could she stand to take orders from the brute? And what if he made good on his threat to take her whenever he wanted?
A thrill of something not exactly dread trembled down her spine. Despite his rugged scars, the arrogant bastard was possibly the most attractive man Jacq had met in either the twelfth or the twenty-first centuries.
Of course, this realization had no bearing on her decision to stay with Lord Rathburn until she had a better plan. Resigned to being hopelessly stuck for now, she recognized a more immediate concern. Where, in this godforsaken hell, was the nearest port-o-potty?
She tossed the tent flap to the side and stepped out to survey her surroundings. Good, trees and bushes were close by. Her father had taken her camping and hiking in fairly primitive areas. She was not a stranger to making a quick field latrine. Thanks, Dad, for giving me the training I’d need to survive this.
The thought of her dad brought her close to tears. He needed her as much as she needed him. Sometimes, he was forgetful. Would he remember his appointment with the oncologist? Jacq wished she could be with him. This appointment was a milestone. Five years. Five years since he’d finished chemotherapy. The doctor told him if he was cancer-free after five years, he stood a good chance of living a long, healthy life.
The tough guy wasn’t one for open displays of emotions, nonetheless, they shared a close relationship. Her loss would be a blow to him after having already lost his wife and gone through hell with cancer. Now, he’d be alone.
Oh, Dad, I wish I could talk to you and let you know I’m okay…scared, but okay.
The trip to the bushes was accomplished with minimum fuss. Not knowing where else to go, she returned to the tent, pulling aside the flap to step in. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Lord Rufus sitting on a stool, stark naked!
Worse, a scantily clad woman bathed him like a baby. Well, not quite. Her hands were lingering near very manly territory.
Disappointment knifed through Jacq, stealing her breath. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to barge in during your bath…” Jacq glanced at the rag in the other woman’s hand. “Or, what
ever.” She turned and was halfway through the flap door when his voice halted her.
“Woman, you will stay.”
“That’s all right. I can come back later.” Jacq kept her back to him. Why should I care who he gets his rocks off with?
“Don’t argue, you will stay. I command it.”
Kinky bastard! Does he want me to watch? Knowing she really didn’t have a choice, she let the flap fall back in place. “Okay, okay, don’t get your underwear in a twist.” She eased her way around the inside wall of the tent, gaze averted from the naked hulk who sat seemingly unaffected by the two women—as if being naked around women were an everyday occurrence.
Jacq shook her head. It probably was an everyday occurrence for Lord Rathburn. After all, this was the twelfth century—women were expected to bathe the men. Women were possessions and lower on the list of importance than bird plop.
I think I’ve died and gone to Hell. How was a woman raised in the twenty-first century with all the associated rights and privileges to fit into twelfth-century society? She was a man’s equal, not his servant.
Discretion is the better part of valor. She repeated the thought over and over in her head. Her father taught her to respect the cultures of others, no matter how foreign. Some backward countries in the twenty-first century still expected women to be subservient and put up with their males’ autocratic ways. Jacq had gotten heartburn thinking about those countries then. The practice was bound to give her an ulcer now.
She dropped onto the cot at the back of the tent and studied her shoes. But, try as she might, she couldn’t keep her gaze averted from the incredible male sitting only a few feet away. The slosh of the water teased her mind and made her pulse leap. She could only imagine how all that muscle would look, gleaming wet. When she thought he wasn’t looking, she stole a glance from beneath her lashes.
Lord have mercy! They didn’t make ’em like that anymore. His shoulders were broad and the muscles of his arms looked like they’d been carved in oak.
Must be all that sword swinging. Her breaths came faster as she lowered her gaze.
His gleaming chest was covered with a mat of curly black hair that narrowed to a line extending down his washboard stomach to…
No, she did not just look! Jacq’s eyes widened, and her gaze slowly lifted to Lord Rathburn’s.
The arrogant jerk looked straight at her, and he had the audacity to smile.