Time Jumper. Connie Hall

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СКАЧАТЬ grew aware of many things at once, the charged humming coursing through her body and up his arms, the creamy feel of her skin against his rough fingertips, her long soft hair that curled stubbornly around his wrist and arm, and her feminine curves nestled against him.

      He bent and whispered, “You’re okay. I’ll take care of you.”

      As he lifted her out of the car, he felt her slight weight in his arms and guilt began to gnaw at him. He shouldn’t have spoken those words. Why had he said he’d take care of her? It had just slipped out, a moment of weakness. He couldn’t keep that kind of promise. In fact, she was in more danger than ever being near him.

      Chapter 3

      The soreness in Hannah’s body woke her. There didn’t seem to be one inch of her that didn’t hurt. She grew aware of a bandage wrapped tightly around her head, covering her left temple. It smelled strongly of eucalyptus and assorted herbs. Her head throbbed like someone was scooping out her brains …

      No, wait, that was a pair of fingers patting her face. Hot breaths, smelling strongly of milk and peppermint, breezed across her cheek and neck, too. All she could think of was being attacked in the past week, and she jerked back. A stabbing pain shot through her temples as she met two pairs of munchkin eyes in cherub faces. Very human eyes, children’s eyes staring back at her.

      She let out the breath she’d been holding and felt her heart slow to a normal rhythm. She realized her left side ached while holding herself up on an elbow, so she carefully lowered her head to the pillow, feeling twinges in places she didn’t know existed. She noticed she was in a strange four-poster bed. Yellow paint covered the bedroom walls and matched the bed’s comforter.

      Hannah’s gaze shifted back to the children still standing by the bed. The little girl was beautiful, with large exotic dark eyes and hair and burnt-umber skin. She looked to be about two and wore a red smocked dress. A little boy stood next to her with the same dark features. His hair was clipped close to his head and the hair on his widow’s peak poked straight up. He appeared older, maybe four. He chewed nervously on the sleeve of his green polo shirt, while one of his hands stayed in the pocket of his grass-stained jeans.

      When he realized Hannah was staring at him, his eyes grew to the size of half-dollars. He turned in a flurry and ran out of the room, yelling, “D-daddy, Daddy, sh-she w-waked u-u …” He paused in his stuttering, gulped, then forced out, “Up!”

      Who was daddy? Thoughts of finding out caused Hannah to fidget, a nervous habit she’d never conquered. The more she fidgeted, the more aware she grew of her body aches and the swimming sensation in her head. She balled her hands into fists to still them and stared into the little girl’s eyes.

      The girl hadn’t caught the boy’s fear. She continued to stand by the bed, tracing Hannah’s chin with her fingers, gazing into Hannah’s eyes with such spellbound wonder and trust and sheer delight that Hannah’s heart melted. Her normal reaction would have been to flinch and move away—she had always feared the reaction of others. But this innocent child had a sweet magnetism that drew Hannah in. The girl cocked her head and blinked at Hannah from beneath her thick sooty lashes. A fairy twinkle lit her intelligent onyx eyes, a look that no doubt charmed wide smiles from all those she graced with her curiosity.

      Hannah felt a smile catching hold of her and she, too, grinned back at the fey child. In fact, Hannah found herself enjoying the feathery light touch as the little imp learned the contours of Hannah’s nose and lips.

      “Hello,” Hannah said, touching the child’s hand, feeling the baby-soft skin.

      “Ha-woa.” The little charmer continued to stare deeply into Hannah’s eyes, then she grinned, exposing a few white teeth between her plump lips.

      Hannah wasn’t certain she understood fairy vernacular, but she took a stab at a translation. “Hello, back at you,” she said.

      “You fizzzzzz,” the little girl said. “Fizzzzzzz.” The child stamped her feet with excitement and her eyes widened as she threw her hands up in the air, then grabbed Hannah’s bare forearm. “Ecktrick.” She gazed down at Hannah’s skin again, absorbed in the intrigue of touching it.

      “Better than sticking your finger in a light socket, huh?”

      The girl pursed her lips as if trying to decipher some cryptic adult code in Hannah’s words.

      “Never mind. You’ll learn what to fear soon enough.”

      “Mayhala.”

      The male voice hardly rose above a whisper, but it held the acute intensity of a reprimand.

      Delight melted from the startled child’s face. She pulled away from Hannah and whirled around, looking confused, as if she’d done something wrong but didn’t understand what. So this was Daddy.

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