Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

“I’m going to get ready for bed.”
    “Miss... Elizabeth,” Simon said, alarmed at her abrupt change in tone. “I didn’t mean...”
    Ignoring the worst was only an invitation to bringing it to bear. He couldn’t let himself simply believe in things. He had to prove them first. It was the only way to avoid disappointment. It was a philosophy he’d lived by and it had never failed him. Until now. Part of him wanted to share her faith, but it meant offering far too much of himself.
    Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.” She ran her hand through her hair and heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re right. We have to be prepared for that possibility.”
    She looked suddenly very tired. Dark smudges hung below her eyes. Clearly, the day had taken a greater toll on her than he’d thought. Despite wanting to keep analyzing the watch, he closed it. “All of that can wait until tomorrow though.”
    “Right. Tomorrow,” she said resignedly. “So, what side do you want?”
    “Side?”
    “Of the bed.”
    “Oh, I...” Simon said. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”
    “For who knows how long? Don’t be silly.”
    “I think...” he stammered and tugged at the collar of is shirt. “I think it’s best.”
    “We’re both adults,” she said and then smiled wickedly. “I won’t compromise your virtue.”
    Simon was so pleased to see her spirit back, he forgot himself and returned her smile. “Is that a promise?”
    “I believe it is,” she said.
    They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, but the playful exchange melted into something more. Before the tension became too much, Simon looked away.
    “I’m going to get washed up,” Elizabeth said and ducked into the bathroom.
    Simon heard the door click shut and slumped down into his chair. She had to be part siren. What a wonderful idea. A little sexual repartee before sharing a bed with a woman you can’t have. Bloody brilliant.
    He spent the next few minutes reminding himself of why he’d put the barriers between them in the first place. Loving someone was a risk he couldn’t afford. He’d spent too many years trying to close wounds that wouldn’t heal to open a fresh one now. No, his life was fine the way it was. Distance meant control. And now, more than ever, he needed both. Feeling more himself, he turned calmly when she called out from behind the partially opened door that she was getting in to bed.
    So much for calm. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. She stepped tentatively into the room, tugging her tiny T-shirt down over her navel. Simon turned quickly away, but it was too late. The image of her wearing only the small shirt and panties was burned into his memory. Not to mention the fact he could see her reflection quite clearly in the window.
    She slid under the covers and pulled them up to her chin. “S’okay. You can turn around now.”
    Simon stood awkwardly on the far side of the room. This was impossible. He looked nervously around the room and noticed the light switch near the door. “Do you mind if I shut the light now?”
    “Sure.”
    Simon turned off the light, but instead of feeling relieved, he felt strangely more on edge. The darkness only heightened the sense of intimacy. The rustle of the covers as Elizabeth moved in the bed brought images to his mind the darkness couldn’t hide. He walked back over to the table and began to undress.
    His fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. He hadn’t been this nervous undressing since Eton. But he’d been a boy then, losing his virginity in the blink of an eye with a girl he couldn’t even remember. Now he was a man. A man who had to spend the night lying chastely next to a woman he desired more than any he’d ever met.
    He really had to curtail that train of thought before he embarrassed them both. Latin. Consummate—Conjugate verbs. Abstenero, absteneras, abstenerat...
    Finally, when he’d finished undressing, he slipped under the covers and tried not to feel the heat of her body next to his.
    A soft moan escaped her lips in the darkness. He lifted himself up on his elbow. “Are you all right?”
    “Fine,” she said and swallowed. “It’s all just a little overwhelming.”
    “We’ll be fine,” he said in a voice far too husky to be reassuring.
    “You don’t snore, do you?”
    He could see the vague outline of her face as she moved onto her side. The soft curves of her smile