The Scandal You Started, page 10
“For what reason?”
“Because the time machine—the POTeM project—is a secret that the people of Neves don’t know about. Only the scientists, historians, and doctors at the lab, and a handful of other people actually know that time travel is possible, for the protection of the project itself and the people who are brought from the past, so it doesn’t end up being misused by the wrong people.
“Therefore, your true identity has to be kept a secret from everyone but those who know who you really are. Because obviously, bringing a marquess from six-three-five PR to the present is impossible.”
“Obviously,” he echoed with a grunt. “That is entirely unfathomable.” She smiled so prettily at his sarcasm. “So only you know who I really am?”
“Other than everyone at the lab, you mean?” He nodded. “No. The Griffins...” She pointed past him in the direction of the other farmhouse. “The family that lives there, know who you really are. The lady’s name is Winnie—she made the stew we ate last night. There’s also her husband, Declan, who takes care of the horses, and their youngest son, Benedict. They know who you really are because Declan and Winnie still technically work for the POTeM project. Oh, and Kelly, River’s fiancée, knows too.”
At the mention of that man, Dominic rubbed his teeth together but nodded. “Then who am I if not a marquess to those who do not know?”
“Well, normally when a project is given to us, we’re given a deadline and then left to complete it on our own, so a Study won’t interact with anyone who might question why they’ve disappeared when they return home.”
She pointed a finger down at the table. “But for the project we’ve been assigned, we’ll be going to the museum and working with the team directly. I’ve only seen a project like this twice before, and it does complicate things a bit, because it means we have to create you a more detailed, believable persona so no one questions who you are.
“Thankfully, that has already been done for us by someone in the lab, but basically, you’re Dominic Thorne from the Region of Vindall. Same age, same birthday too, but the year will change to 845 PR. You moved to Jahandar seven years ago, where you’ve been running your own stables and rearing, breeding, and selling Khaasan horses for a living.”
“So I will be assisting on a project about horses?” he confirmed.
“Uh...no, actually.” She smiled laughingly at his confusion. “You breed horses for a living, but you studied history and curation at university, so on the side, you help private collectors catalogue Tregency artefacts—mainly letters and books. As a result, you were hired as additional support to curate a selection of letters with me and the Tregency team down at the Fronis Museum.
“So you’ll be assisting on a project about letters.”
Dominic gaped, both bemused and disbelieving. “Sweetheart...I would like to warn you now that I know absolutely nothing about cataloguing letters and books.”
Rayna waved him off like it wasn’t a big, blaring issue. “Don’t worry, I have all the notes you need on everything, including the details of your persona. We won’t be going to the museum until next week, where I’ll introduce you to the team, and we’ll learn more about the project, so you have enough time to familiarise yourself with everything.”
For a moment, he wanted to argue this wouldn't work, but she seemed rather confident, so he gave a conceding nod. “I suppose it is not such an awful plan.”
Her gaze narrowed. “It’s a great plan, actually.”
He rubbed two fingers over a shameless grin, then rolled his hand towards her. “What about you? What is your persona in this ‘great plan’?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “I’m still me, historian Rayna Faez, and everything else about myself I’ve told you so far. But rather than working for the POTeM project, I work as an agent for a company called Two Worlds Research Limited—”
His brows flew to his hairline. “An agent? A royal agent? As in a spy?”
“No,” she said, amused. “An agent, as in someone who doesn’t have a fixed location of work but goes wherever they’re assigned. So I'm assigned to a project or at a museum by Two Worlds Research Limited whenever someone makes a request for support in my area of expertise, which is the seventh and eighth centuries.”
She flicked a hand between them. “In this case, you’ve been hired as a temporary agent by Two Worlds so that we can both support the museum project.”
He nodded once he grasped what she said. “And how often will we be going to this…what did you call it? Fronip Museum?”
“Fronis Museum. And I don’t know how often yet. We’ll find out when we go there. But my guess would be three times a week just from reading over the outline of the project.”
“And where is it? Or rather, where are we?”
“We’re in the north of Khaas in the Region of Olkmond, on the outskirts of a city called Redworth. The museum is in the city centre, about forty-five minutes from here.” She flashed a gleaming smile. “It’s the biggest museum in the region, rich in preserved artefacts and resources, so we’re lucky our project is based there. I think you’ll like it.”
Oh, Rayna.
At the sight of her innocent delight, he wished he shared her enthusiasm for museums if only to win her fondness. But the truth was quite the opposite.
Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Dominic scratched a set of fingers under his jaw. “I must admit, sweetheart...” He grimaced. “I cannot stand museums.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes lost their shine as if he’d told her he’d run over her dog with his carriage. As much as he wanted to laugh at her reaction, he also wanted to fall to his knees and beg her to forgive him as if he really had committed such an awful crime against her.
“What do you mean you can’t stand museums?” she said, her tone two pitches higher. “Museums are the best thing humans ever created. And you’re a curator. You can’t hate museums!”
He chuckled. “It is the very reason this cataloguing-curator identity of mine is bound to fail.”
“Dominic,” she grumbled, her brows knotting together. “It’s the only identity you can have for this to work. Otherwise, there’s no reason for you to be working with me.”
Dominic’s heart melted into a puddle of liquid adoration at the twisted pout on her mouth. He nearly folded over with a groan of sweet agony.
How on Neves was he supposed to resist such a lovely yet sensual look that could convince mortal enemies to end their war against each other?
It took every ounce of willpower not to scoop her into his lap and kiss her silly while he promised to give her the entire world, whatever she wanted. He’d play the curator, historian, whatever as well as he bloody damn could if that was what would make her happy.
But Dominic couldn’t pretend he didn’t want more from her, from this situation they were in.
“I could be your lover,” he heard himself rasp, the words out of his mouth before he could convince himself to reconsider. To patiently wait until she’d softened a bit more towards him.
Rayna went still as her charcoal eyes searched his face. “Very funny,” she said blandly. “And no. You’d still have no reason to work with me.” She pushed herself back from the table and stood. “Pick up your plates and put them in the sink. You can wait upstairs while I wash up.”
As she picked up her own empty dishes, Dominic watched her, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
Her dismissal grated, but he hadn’t foolishly thought it’d be that easy with a stubborn little witch like her. It’d take much more than a few words of flirtation to earn her affection.
But that simply made him even more determined to evoke inside her what she’d awoken within him.
Jake:
Hi how are you?
Hows the project going?
Rayna:
Hey Im good just tired
Today was busy and long
Kind of wish I was still on the beach with you
Jake:
Damn that sucks
I wish you were here too
It’s not as fun without you
Chapter 11
Rayna
The next day, after Rayna spent the morning yelling at Dominic to stop trying to stick his fingers into every socket he came across, having taught him about electricity, there came a knock at the front door of the farmhouse.
Dominic lifted his head from the manual in his hands. “Was that the door?” he asked, sprawled on the fabric sofa along the wall facing the bi-fold garden doors.
“Yeah,” she said, closing the fridge.
“Were we expecting someone?”
“It’s River,” she threw over her shoulder as she walked out the arched entryway and down the cream corridor.
“What?” she heard Dominic rumble.
She passed the closed door to the makeshift basement gym and an alcove corridor that led to a utility room and water closet, before reaching the sitting room entrance opposite the wooden staircase, carpeted in the same latte colour as the upstairs rooms. A rectangular mirror hung on the wall between the stairs and the office-library at the front right of the house.
“Hi,” Rayna said to River after opening the front door.
River ran a palm over his short, dirty-blond hair and smiled. He held a brown paper shopping bag in his other hand.
“Hi,” he said, his grey gaze slipping past her with a nervous flicker before he slunk his tall, slim frame inside.
She closed the door. “He’s in the kitchen, so head on through.”
River stopped before the stairs and cleared his throat. “I think it would be better if you led the way.”
“Why?” came a rough growl before Dominic appeared in the threshold of the kitchen. “Face me like a man instead of cowering behind a woman half your size.”
“Move back, Dominic,” she warned, heading past River.
“I should rip your head from your body,” Dominic snarled over her.
Reaching him, Rayna jabbed a finger into his broad chest. “You made a promise, Dominic. Don’t you dare forget that. Move. Now.”
He rolled his thick shoulders and rubbed his teeth together before finally dropping his piercing gaze to her. He turned away, and Rayna followed. River’s slow steps tailed her.
Dominic stopped at the edge of the fluffy, pale blue rug that lay between the small dining table and sofa. Rayna stood next to him, and River formed the third point of their triangle.
A tense silence fell between the two men that Rayna refused to break for them.
Eventually, her fellow historian cleared his throat. “I would like to apologise,” River said. “For bringing you here under false pretences, and for the fact that you were in quarantine for so long.” He shifted on his feet. “It’s not ideal for anyone, especially not for you, because you didn’t understand what was going on. And I’m sorry for that. I really regret what you were put through, and I would change how it happened if I could. I hope you can forgive me one day and that we can come to an understanding as we had done before this.”
Silence.
Dominic’s fingers moved restlessly by his sides as his brows pinched and un-pinched like his anger was reluctantly slipping away. Then he let out a heavy sigh.
“I do not appreciate being made to look like a fool,” Dominic grumbled. His glare eased up. “But I suppose I am not displeased about being here, and that would not have happened without you.” He stuck his hand towards River after a long pause. “I am still disgruntled over what I was put through, but I accept that it had to be done.”
The tension in River’s shoulders melted as he smiled and set his palm against Dominic’s. “Thank you.”
The way Dominic shook River’s hand looked like it rattled the latter man’s bones, and with the way Dominic smirked, it was clear that had been his intention. But it was better than bloodshed, and Rayna couldn’t blame Dominic for wanting a little bit of revenge.
Still, she rolled her eyes as he grinned proudly while poor River flapped his reddened hand around with a grimace of both pain and amusement.
“Now that we’ve got that out the way, how are you?” Rayna said to her colleague as she rounded the breakfast bar into the kitchen. “Also, tea or coffee?”
“Tea, please. And yeah, I’m good. You guys?” River headed towards the dining table and set the brown bag atop it.
Rayna grabbed the kettle on the way to the sink. “We’ve been good. Busy trying to satiate Dominic’s curiosity.”
“She refuses to let me step outside,” Dominic added as he tracked River to the table and peeked into the bag.
“I’ve told you five times already, I’ll show you around outside tomorrow. Then you can bloody live out there for all I care,” she rumbled as River grinned between them.
“Stubborn witch,” Dominic muttered, not exactly under his breath. Rayna glared at him as she set a kettle full of water back on its base in the corner of the breakfast bar and slapped it on.
“Kelly said hi,” River said. “She wanted to come, but one of the boys at the café called in sick, so she had to cover his shift. But I brought everything you asked for.”
“Yeah, she messaged me. And thank you for grabbing the stuff.”
“What is all this?” the curious, oversized cat questioned, his nose still stuck in the bag.
“It’s all for you,” River answered. “You can take it all out if you want to.”
Dominic’s honey-coloured irises lit up, and he stuck his hand straight in.
“Dominic, tea or coffee?” Rayna asked, holding a teabag over the second of the three mugs she’d set on the countertop.
“Tea, please. Instant coffee tastes awful,” he said as he pulled out a stubby white bottle. He studied it carefully before frowning. “Face wash?”
River nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
Dominic grunted and shook his head as he put the bottle down. “Hand wash, body wash, face wash, shampoo—how many different soaps does one person require to keep themselves clean? Surely, one soap is good enough for everything.”
River chuckled. “Yeah, probably. It’s just a way for companies to make more money, I guess.”
“Did you find a pair of chinos?” Rayna asked, putting a spoon of coffee in for herself.
“Yeah, we had a pair of navy-blue ones in the lab wardrobes.” Just as River said it, Dominic pulled the trousers out and let gravity unfold them. “Rayna said you weren’t too fond of jeans.”
“I cannot comprehend why anyone would choose to wear such a coarse and uncomfortable fabric,” was Dominic’s response. “These, however, feel much softer.”
“Well, I brought your wallet too, so you now have some cash and a company credit card for when you go shopping, so you’ll be able to buy whichever trousers you prefer.”
“Credit? As in money credit?” Dominic dug through the bag and pulled out a brown wallet.
“Yeah,” River confirmed. “But it’s all calculated on one card so that you’re not carrying loads of credit notes.” River gestured to the bag. “There’s also a phone in there. And once we take a picture of you on it, we can sort out your identity card, and you’ll pretty much be sorted then.”
“A phone?” Dominic echoed, losing all interest in the wallet, and picked out the last item in the bag. “That is the machine that writes imaginary correspondence, correct?”
“Close enough,” Rayna muttered to herself with a laughing huff. He had a good memory, she’d give him that, even if his descriptions were a bit funny.
“It does more than that, but yeah, that machine,” River said with a grin.
“Note F...two-point-zero smart—phone,” Dominic read off the white box in his hands. “This is for me to use?”
“For the time you’re here, yeah.”
“How does it work?”
“You might want to sit down with River for this, because explaining how to use a phone is going to take a while,” Rayna said just as the kettle went off with a bubbling boil.
That night, while Rayna lay in bed trying to go to sleep, her phone pinged on the bedside cabinet with an incoming message.
She picked up the device and unlocked it. A very slow string of messages popped up in the notification bar.
Dominic:
Goof evrning.
Goid evenkng.
Good evening.
Rayna:
Hi
A minute passed before the next message came through.
Dominic:
Did it work?
Rayna:
Yh it did
Rayna’s fingers hovered over the touchscreen as another minute passed.
Dominic:
It is hard to write on this.
The letters are very small.
But you write very fast.
What is yh?
Rayna let out a slow breath as a reluctant smile spread across her mouth. “Dominic?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
She struggled to roll over under the tightly cinched blanket to face the giant oaf stretched out on it. The light from the lamp next to him and his newly acquired phone illuminated his ruggedly handsome face.
“I’m lying right next to you,” she said slowly. “Why are you messaging me?”
His irises glinted like platters of ancient gold as he smiled proudly. “I am practicing. So you ought to help me by replying to my instant message.”
“Don’t call it ‘instant message,’” she muttered, bringing the device back up to her face. “Just say message, or people are gonna think there’s something wrong with you.”
Rayna:
