Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

into the unknown.
    * * *
    Two hours later, Elizabeth sat on the bed and aimlessly picked at the coverlet. She knew she should have told him right away. The longer she waited, the harder it was to get the words out, and the worse his reaction was going to be. He’d known something was wrong straight off and tried to ease it out of her. When that failed, he poked and prodded, until her silence rubbed off on him, and he withdrew to the isolation of his chair by the window—his fortress of solitude.
    What a hypocrite she was. Last night she’d badgered him into telling her his worst fears. Now, given an easier task, she was taking the chicken exit. She knew what he was going to say, the argument they would have. Just for a few more hours she wanted the closeness they’d found to stay. For all the good it had done her. He’d withdrawn his questions and himself. Anything would be better than the chilling silence. The cold, gray light of predawn glowed outside the window. Time to own up.
    He sat stiffly in his chair, his back ramrod straight, glaring out the window.
    Rock, meet Hard Place. Hard Place, this is Rock.
    “King invited me to dinner.”
    Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it. He turned to her and looked almost relieved. “Did he?”
    “I know I should have told you right away, but I was afraid of how you’d react.”
    “Is that all this is about?”
    “Well, yeah.” Where was the anger? The possessive, ‘Bess, you is my woman now’?
    He almost laughed and then rose from the chair. “Good lord, I thought it was something dire.”
    “It isn’t?”
    He grinned and sat next to her on the bed. “Comparatively? No.”
    “Really?” That wasn’t quite the reaction she’d expected. He seemed almost nonplussed. She’d expected him to be plussed all over the place.
    Seeming to think the issue was finished, he slipped off his shoes and tugged off his socks. “You’re a beautiful woman. He’s a man completely without a shred of decency. I’m actually surprised it took him this long. How did he take it when you refused?”
    That explained the reaction, or lack thereof.
    “I can’t imagine he was too pleased,” Simon said with a small smile. “I wish I could have seen it.”
    “I accepted.” She hadn’t meant to blurt it like that, but the words came out in a big, fat, ugly blob.
    His hands stopped in mid-motion and his head snapped up. “You what?”
    For all the time she’d had to come up with a plausible story, everything slipped out of her mind at the anger and betrayal in his eyes. “It’s not what you think.”
    “Then you’re not having dinner with him?”
    “No, I am. It’s—”
    “What the hell can you be thinking?” he shouted and stood, towering menacingly over her.
    Even though that was the reaction she’d expected, it frightened her. “If you’d let me explain.”
    He glared at her for a long moment, the muscles in his jaw working feverishly. “By all means,” he said sharply. “Enlighten me.”
    She tried not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze and to sort out her thoughts. “He saved my life,” she said, ignoring his derisive snort. “I owe him for that.”
    “And I’m sure dinner is all he wants.”
    “Simon—”
    “Don’t be naïve. Do you really think all he wants is the pleasure of your company? At worst, he’s a vampire and you won’t live the night. Or he’s a gangster, hardly better. At best, he’s a man whose interest in you goes far beyond dinner conversation, I can assure you. How can you possibly expect me to roll on my back while this creature, this man, goes after my wife!” His expression faltered and he turned away.
    She moved to stand behind him, but he moved away before she could reach out to touch him. “Simon, please?”
    The desperation in her voice must have penetrated his anger, because when he turned around his eyes softened for a moment, and the Simon she loved peeked through. He looked as if he were about to touch her but thought better of it.
    She closed her eyes. She’d been hoping, stupidly hoping, she wouldn’t have to tell him the whole of it, but there didn’t seem any other way now. “Do you really think I’d do this if I had a choice?”
    “What do you mean?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Did he threaten you?”
    “No,” she said, and let her shoulders sag under the weight they’d been carrying. “Not me.”
    “Me then?”
    She nodded. “You and Charlie. Oh, he didn’t