Fantasy Lover(84)

He would want to know.

Or would he?

Grace considered the repercussions of telling him. He didn't like it here in her time. She knew that. He wanted to go home. If she told him how she felt, he might stay for no other reason, and if he had no reason of his own to stay, he might grow to resent her for keeping him away from all he'd once known. All he'd been.

Or worse, what if it didn't work out?

As a psychologist, she knew better than anyone all the problems that could crop up in a relationship and destroy it.

One of the biggest reasons for breakups was the lack of common ground to build on between two people who shared nothing but physical attraction.

She and Julian were about as different as two people could ever be. She was a plain, twenty-first-century psychologist and he was a gorgeous second-century B.C. Macedonian general. Talk about a fish and a bird trying to find a place where they could both live!

Two more different people had never been born and forced together.

Right now, they were both basking in the newness of the relationship. But they didn't really know each other that well. What if in a year's time they weren't really in love?

For that matter, what if he changed once the curse was lifted?

Julian had told her that he'd been a different man back in Macedonia. What if part of his current charm or his attraction to her was from the curse? According to Cupid, the curse made Julian feel compelled toward her.

What if they broke the curse and he became someone else entirely? Someone who no longer wanted her?

What then?

Once he gave up his chance to go home, she was sure he'd never have another one.

Grace struggled to breathe as she realized she couldn't even say to him, "Let's try and see what happens." Because once he made his decision, there would be no second chances.

Grace swallowed, wishing she could see into the future like Selena did. But then, even Selena was wrong at times. For Julian's sake, Grace couldn't afford to be wrong.

No, there would only be one acceptable reason for him to stay. He would have to love her as much as she loved him.

And that was about as likely as the sky falling in on her head in the next ten minutes.

Closing her eyes, Grace winced at the truth. He could never be hers. One way or another, she would have to let him go.

And it was going to kill her.

Julian drew a ragged breath and released the bed. He gave her a tenuous smile. "That hurt," he said.

"I can tell." She reached to touch him, but he stepped back from her like a man who was about to come into contact with a snake.

Grace dropped her hand. "I'll go fix dinner."

Julian watched her leave the room. He wanted to go after her so badly that he could barely refrain. But he didn't dare.

He needed a little more time to compose himself. More time to quell the fire coursing through him, threatening to overwhelm him.

He shook his head. How could her touch give him such strength, and yet at the same time make him so incredibly weak?





* * *




Grace had just finished making canned soup and sandwiches when Julian joined her in the kitchen.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes," he said, sitting down at the table.

Grace circled her spoon around her bowl while she watched him eat. The fading sunlight caught in his hair, highlighting it. He sat perfectly straight up in the chair and every time he moved, a surge of desire tore through her. She could watch him all day and never grow tired of it.

Worse, what she really wanted to do was get up, go over to him, and sit in his lap. Then run her hands through those golden waves as she kissed the daylights out of him.

Stop it! If she didn't get hold of herself, she would succumb to that urge!

"You know," she said hesitantly. "I've been thinking. What if you did stay here? Would it be so bad to live in my time?"

The look he gave her quelled her. "We've already had this discussion. I don't belong here. I don't understand your world, your customs. I feel awkward and I hate that."

Grace cleared her throat. Fine, she wouldn't mention it again.

Sighing, she picked up her sandwich and ate it, even though what she really wanted to do was argue.

After they finished dinner, Julian helped her clean the kitchen.

"You want me to read to you?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, but she could tell there was something wrong. He was guarded with her, almost cold.

She hadn't seen him like this since he'd first appeared.

Grace went upstairs and got her new copy of Peter Pan, then came back downstairs. Julian was already on the floor, piling the cushions for them.

She took her seat, lying perpendicular to him and propping her head against the side of his stomach. After turning to the first page, she began to read.

Julian listened to Grace's smooth, lilting voice, all the while staring at her. As she read the words, he watched her eyes dance across the page.