 
Gold Fever

By Emma Daniels

Copyright 2011 Emma Daniels

Smashwords Edition
Chapter One

By the time he'd finished his third beer, Adrian O'Shea's situation didn't look any better. In fact, things only looked grimmer. Never having been much of a drinker, Adrian had assumed that alcohol would help dull the pain

He should have known better.

Now he felt drunk as well as depressed. And he was a good fifteen dollars out of pocket, money he didn't have to throw away on something as pointless as a couple of Guinness's. Thanks to his brother's shady wheeling and dealing, the family business was now as dead as Adrian's two year relationship with his fiancée Katrina

Mark O'Shea had used the business as collateral to finance some dubious get-rich scheme, which had very successfully sent O'Sheas Building Enterprises bankrupt. Adrian had only found out this afternoon, and dreaded telling their father the dismal news. Ian O'Shea had only recently signed the business over to his sons so he could spend more time with his ailing wife.

Their mother had almost died in a car accident six months ago, when an eighteen year old provisional driver had ploughed straight into the driver's side door of her fifteen year old Kingswood station wagon, leaving her a paraplegic. Confined to a wheelchair, the once active and energetic woman of fifty-two was trying to come to terms with the sudden and irrevocable change in her life

The worry and strain was taking its toll on Ian. He'd always been a robust man, but looked like he'd aged ten years in the months since Susan's accident. He tried to keep her involved in life by taking her out as much as he could, but she'd lost interest even in her art, the one thing that had always drawn her out of her deep bouts of depression

Adrian tried to do what he could, taking over on weekends so his father was able do things for himself, but Katrina never joined him, preferring to keep Adrian all to herself

At first he'd thought this a sign of her deep affection for him, but now knew it was because she couldn't cope with his mother's disability. That was probably another reason she'd gone to Mark. Ever since the accident Adrian's brother had hardly seen either parent

That had been Adrian's second rude shock of the day. Even though Mark hadn't been able to face Adrian, leaving it to their accountant, Katrina had no such qualms when Adrian arrived at her house for a shoulder to cry on, and perhaps even a dose of her sexy body to take his mind off his dire financial situation

Instead she'd stood in the doorway and held out her engagement ring to him. "It's over Adrian. I don't want to marry you. I've found someone else."

At first Adrian thought she'd been playing a joke on him, an exceptionally nasty joke, to be sure, but a joke nevertheless.

If there had been any signs she was over him, he certainly hadn't seen them. He stood there staring at her slender hand with its long, well manicured nails, the diamond ring dangling between them as though is was something disgusting she wanted to throw away

"You want a bigger ring, don't you?" he said at last, but she grabbed hold of his hand so she could place the ring into his palm. Reluctantly he coiled his fingers around it so he wouldn't drop it. The darn thing had cost him a small fortune, a fortune that obviously still wasn't enough for her

"I already have a bigger ring," she snorted, turning her hand over to reveal a massive cluster of diamonds that glimmered in the sunlight slanting down through the trees surrounding the pretty house her father had bought for her eighteenth birthday. "My new fiance gave it to me this morning."

"What?" Adrian gasped, blinking at her in confusion

Suddenly Mark appeared in the doorway behind Katrina. He wore nothing but a fluffy white towel around his trim waist, and was busy drying his dark hair with an identical one. When Mark saw who was there, he grabbed hold of the handle and slammed the door in Adrian's face

"Get lost Adrian," Mark yelled through the wood paneling. "She prefers me to you, and her father has offered me a great job in his business."

Adrian finally found his voice. "What about our business, you lying, cheating, scrum-sucking son-of-a-bitch?" he yelled through the door, banging an angry fist against it. "Open up and explain yourselves!"

But all that answered him was silence. Adrian considered climbing over the fence and scaling the verandah to find some other way in to tell them exactly what he thought of them, but knew it wouldn't really make any difference

Mark had taken the easy way out, swinging himself a cushy job and a rich girlfriend, all because Adrian had been too busy working on his projects and supporting his parents to see what must have been brewing for months

Katrina had been bowled over by Mark's easy charm and good looks, and the fact that he didn't come with the baggage of a failed business and a disabled mother. Once again Mark had left Adrian to pick up the pieces, the way he always had when they were children. If Mark broke it Adrian tried to fix it.

But there was no way Adrian could mend a broken heart. It burned like acid in his chest as he hurled the ring at the house.

"Keep it, you weak bitch." he yelled, turning to stalk back towards his battered old car.

Adrian drove away with an angry screech of tyres, heading back into the city, to eventually end up at the familiar old pub at the end of his street.

He felt as though his entire life had caved in around him, and he was stuck at the bottom of a deep dark hole, with the sides closing in

As he turned to leave the pub, the sides of that hole finally did cave in. Adrian stumbled from the weight of his emotions. His chest hurt and his throat was so tight he could barely breathe

For a terrifying moment he wondered if he was having a heart attack. It wasn't unheard of for men in their twenties to die this way, but Adrian had always been a fit and active man

He felt himself falling, the pain in his chest pushing him down. As the back of his head hit the ground, the lights went out, and blackness consumed him

The splash of cold water against his face rudely jerked Adrian awake. Trying to drown his sorrows in beer clearly hadn't worked, because now he had a splitting headache to keep his misery company

"Closin' time, O'Shea. Get yer drunken, useless carcass outta here." This gruff order was followed by a hard nudge in the ribs from a dusty boot. As he pried gritty eyes open, Adrian became conscious of rough wooden floorboards beneath his back.

God, everything hurt! Adrian felt as though he'd been dragged from one end of the galaxy to the other and back again

Getting drunk enough to pass out on a pub floor was definitely not his style. Won't be doing that again in a hurry, he thought grimly, as he finally managed to lever himself off the floor. Should call the health inspectors on this place too, he decided. The floor was putrid, and he'd been lying in God knows what. In fact the entire place smelt like the inside of an old boot that had liberally been doused in rum

Adrian was still having trouble focusing, and his head ached even more now that he was in an upright position

"Move it O'Shea," the gravely voice ordered from the other side of the room.

Adrian glanced around, noticing that the dimly lit room was virtually deserted. He wondered if there had been a black out. The only light appeared to be coming from several old fashioned kerosene lamps suspended in corners

The bar-tender, if that was who he was, started stacking chairs and benches on tables. How the heck did he knew who Adrian was anyhow, when he was pretty certain he'd never seen this portly, middle aged individual before. The man wore a grimy grey apron over a stained shirt and patched baggy trousers. A scruffy beard and untidy mop of grey hair completed the picture of an overgrown dwarf

The swinging doors banged, and a taller, younger man strode into the room. Even though he was clean-shaven, he didn't appear to be any cleaner. There were sweat stains under the armpits of his brown shirt, and his oily, lank brown hair looked like it badly needed a wash. "That takes care of the Thomas brothers," he announced, slapping dirty palms against one another

"Then take care of that one, will yer?" The dwarf nodded in Adrian's direction

"No worries, Sam." He marched up to Adrian, who noticed the fellow looked weedy and rather sickly. Not the kind to knock heads together or bounce someone the size of Adrian off the premises

He was obviously stronger than he looked, or Adrian was in a worse state then he thought, because the guy had no problem hauling him up off the floor.

Adrian's head swum sickeningly. "Jeezus," he groaned in abject misery, as the floor threatened to come up and slap him in the face for a second time. Luckily the bouncer kept a firm hold of his left arm, and began to walk him across the floor

"Ye never learn, do ya, O'Shea? Just as well your horse knows the way home."

"Hey, my Toyota ute's seen better days, but it's not a bloody horse," Adrian muttered back grumpily

"Whatever yer say, O'Shea, whatever yer say." And he led Adrian across the floor. Every uncoordinated step bought a jab of acute agony slicing through his head, and his vision blurred, making him want to puke

What kind of dead-end dump had he wondered into to drown his sorrows anyhow? Adrian could have sworn he'd just gone down the road to his local, but then he very well could have continued on somewhere else and forgotten all about it.

So when the guy shoved him outside into a crisp star-lit night, he knew he wasn't anywhere near home

Adrian looked about in confusion at the closed-up shops. There really had been a black out, he realized, not a single solitary street light in sight. They must be doing road re-surfacing too, he thought, because the street was no more than dirt.

There was something vaguely familiar about the place, but it certainly wasn't downtown Marrickville, in Sydney, where he lived and ran his building business from. Had ran his business, he amended dismally to himself.

And where the heck was his car? Not that he was in any state to drive, but he could at least put the seat back and rest for a while until he sobered up enough to head home

The tall, weedy chap led him towards a horse and cart

A horse and cart? In this day and age? Adrian wondered, staring at it in confusion

"Ye can take yer drunken master home, can't ya Charlie?" the bouncer told the horse as they stopped alongside the beast. It gave a small whinny, and stomped a hoof

Definitely had too much to drink. I'm seeing horses now, not white elephants, but horses! Adrian thought in self-disgust

"Come on, O'Shea, up yer get," the guy urged as they came to the cart

"Get into that?" Adrian scoffed. "Are you mad?"

The fellow climbed up onto the rig, leaving Adrian to grab hold of the side of the cart to stop himself from falling over. His limbs really didn't seem to want to cooperate at all. He'd never been this drunk in his life, making him wonder if someone had spiked his drink out of spite. He certainly hadn't had much luck lately, so he supposed anything was possible

To his absolute amazement, the chap managed to haul Adrian up into the seat, but the sudden action and his own disorientation sent him toppling backwards and into in the back of the cart. He landed on what felt and smelt like bags of hay. And they weren't soft either. Bits of straw jabbed into him like tiny knives.

Adrian swore in indignation, but the man jumped back down, and slapped the horse on the rump. "Ye know the way home. Take the drunken sot home to 'is poor wee wifie."

"Wife? What wife?" Adrian shouted angrily, trying to sit up. "I don't even have a fiance anymore."

But the cart began to move, jarring his aching bones so that he collapsed back against the bed of spikes. Adrian felt sick enough to puke, but when he rolled over to try and throw up, nothing came. His stomach rolled sickeningly, and his head spun, and the constant pitching of the cart sent him tumbling against its side, where mercifully Adrian passed out for a second time that night

The jingle of a bit outside her window roused Cassandra from a light doze. She'd climbed into bed late, too tired to stay up any longer waiting for her husband to come home. She knew where he was, the same place he went most nights, coming home too drunk to even stand up, let alone find his own way to bed.

She was heartily sick of it. She was sick of him, and wouldn't have minded too much if he'd fallen off the rig and into a ditch on the way home, because it would have solved a whole host of her problems

What a terrible thought for a God-faring woman to have, Cassandra told herself, as she peered out through the faded curtains. Since all she could see was Charlie still harnessed to the cart, she wondered if perhaps her thoughts of a moment ago might have come to pass after all. The seat was empty, but he could just as easily have passed out in the back as he usually did

Either way it meant getting out of her warm bed to take Charlie to the stable. She wasn't going to leave the poor horse standing there all night in the chilly spring air. He would also need a rub down and some water after the walk from town

Cassandra dragged her aching body out of bed and threw a shawl over her shoulders. She'd miscarried only days ago. This was the second time she'd lost a baby, reminding her all too well why she'd been forced to marry that lazy, good-for-nothing Adrian O'Shea in the first place

What a fool she'd been to let him kiss her that balmy summer evening almost a year ago. What had started as an innocent embrace ended up with him on top of her in a pile of hay in the Mackenzie's barn, stealing her virginity the way he managed to skive everything else it seemed. A glib tongue, a winning smile and come-hither eyes when they weren't bloodshot, had worked their magic on her as surely as night followed day

Her father had been bitterly disappointed in her, but not as much as Cassandra had berated herself, and still did, many months down the track. She'd been a fool to listen to anything Adrian O'Shea had to say. And still he promised the world

"As soon as I find some more gold, I'll buy you that lovely velvet dress in Mary Stern's window," had been his most recent declaration

He was always making promises Cassandra knew he couldn't keep. The recent discovery of gold at nearby Sofala was bringing all kinds of travelers to the district, but Cassandra knew only those with half a brain in their heads would make it rich, not someone who spent most of his time drinking himself into oblivion

Cassandra slowly made her way through the homestead to the front door. It had belonged to her husband's family, and had once been considered a lovely home with its large, high-ceilinged rooms and wide wooden verandah shading the front of the house against the hot western sun. But ever since his parents had died and his brother disappeared, it was slowly but surely falling into ruin

Charlie nickered when she approached him

"You're a good horse," Cassandra said to the animal. As she glanced at the cart, she saw a booted foot up against the side, meaning her husband had decided to sleep off his drunken stupor in the back, again

"Well, he can stay there," she told the horse as she began undoing his harness. "You, on the other hand deserve a nice warm stable."

Charlie gave a toss of his noble head

"If I hadn't gone off with that drunken sot in the first place, I could now be living in town as a respectable woman, married to Erik Brady," she muttered grimly under her breath as she led Charlie away from the cart.

Erik ran one of the two banks in town and had been her suitor up until her life was ruined that sad and sorry night. Erik had treated her like a lady, always helping her up into his buggy when they went riding, kissing her hand or her cheek when they parted on the porch step of her family home. He'd always been polite to her parents. They too had held high hopes for her as a banker's wife

By the time Erik proposed to her it was too late. She had already been ruined by the man who'd wrapped her in his passionate embrace and then invaded her body before she even had a chance to think. And even though she hated to admit it, she'd quite enjoyed being in Adrian's arms until that moment. Erik had never made her head spin and her body tingle, probably the reason she'd let it go on for as long as she had

But ever since her father had hauled him up, forcing him to take responsibility for his actions, Adrian had spent more and more time in town, gambling and drinking and getting into trouble.

She knew she should be glad he left her alone so much of the time, but she feared he would end up squandering away his entire family fortune, leaving her and any children they might have without a roof over their heads. Oh, she knew her family would take her in should it come to that, but the shame of it would be intolerable

Cassandra had been brought up to respect anything hard-earned. Nothing came easy, particularly not through bets made with the likes of the rough looking pair that had come calling a few days ago. They had told her in no uncertain terms that her husband owed them money, and lots of it

If he mixed with those kinds of men, then Cassandra might as well return to her family to live with the shame. It would be better than ending up dead, because that's what happened to those who didn't pay off their debts to the bookies and shady dealers in town

Cassandra tried to banish the memory of the toughs who had harassed her. She'd been on her own, as usual, and she'd tired to hide her fear as best as she could. It was only after they were gone that she'd collapsed onto one of the wicker chairs on the verandah to let the tears flow. She had done a lot of that since her wedding day, crying over what could have been, and what she'd become. She hadn't bothered telling Adrian about the men's visit, simply because she'd hardly seen him over the past few days. He didn't even know about the baby she'd lost. It had happened even earlier this time, making her wonder is she'd ever bear a child

She led Charlie into the stable where she proceeded to rub him down. This wasn't a task Cassandra had ever envisaged herself doing in the middle of the night.

Hurriedly, she filled Charlie's feed bag, and picked up a horse blanket hanging over one of the railings. She headed back to the cart with it, and draped it over the comatose man sprawled on the hay. He hadn't even unloaded that yesterday, she thought in dismay, knowing it would probably end up falling on her shoulders unless she wanted to see it go to waste

"You don't even deserve that much," she told the slumbering man, before turning to head back into the house. She suddenly felt weary to the bone, as though the weight of the world was wedged squarely on her shoulders

That was what being married to Adrian O'Shea had become, Cassandra thought sadly, a life of drudgery and loneliness, and not even a child to ease the lonely ache in her empty heart
Chapter Two

Morning sunlight shining directly on his face drew Adrian into a world of blinding pain. Not only did his head throb with a consistency of a pounding base drum, waking up to the bright glare was way more than he could handle.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked himself, wondering if he'd passed out on a park bench somewhere. "And this blanket smells like a god-dammed horse."

He felt hay prickle his shoulder blades underneath his shirt. If only he could bear to pry his eyes open against the glare, he might be able to work out where in the world he'd ended up

Slowly, tentatively, Adrian levered gritty lashes apart, and was promptly rewarded with another stab of pain lancing through his skull.

Oh this is not good, he thought, squeezing his burning eyes shut again. Think I might stay here for a while and try not to move

As he lay there on the uncomfortable bed of straw, Adrian became aware of the sounds around him; the chirp of birds, the cackle of hens, and the faint nicker of a horse. Oh great, he thought, I've ended up in a barnyard. I'm probably smack bang in the middle of the pig pen. Is this someone's idea of a sick joke?

Adrian thrust the scratchy blanket aside, realizing as he did, just how warm it had been. Chilly morning air soon set his teeth chattering. But he wasn't going to remain wherever he'd ended up a moment longer, so he forced his eyes open, and leant on one elbow to lever himself into a sitting position

This time the pain in his head was bearable, but his gut churned sickly.

No, don't puke, he ordered his rolling stomach, trying to keep the burning bile down. All the barnyard smells were enough to make anyone want to barf. Having worked in the building industry most of his life, Adrian was used to woody, earthy smells, but right now he felt too ill, and just wanted a good dose of black coffee and two strong analgesics

The cart was real, he realized, as he sat up. And it had been pulled here, wherever here was. Adrian peered around, and his gaze fell on the homestead. It looked so much like his grandparents' home Adrian had to blink a couple of times to get that crazy notion out of his head. How on earth could he have ended up here when he'd been living and working in the city for the past ten years?

Adrian had loved visiting them as a child. He'd swum in the creek behind the house with his brother and cousins, swinging on the rubber tires suspended from various gum trees around the property. They had gone horse-riding into the hills as teenagers. There had been loads of old clothes to play dress-ups with in the attic, tall tales of the olden days at night as they sat around the outdoor fire-place cindering marsh-mellows

It appeared to be the same house, but it had been painted blue when Adrian visited as a child. Right now it looked like it had never seen a coat of paint. The windows were the old fashioned divided sort, and a set of wicker furniture sat on the verandah. The flowering shrubs around the railings were gone, as were the pavers the girls had used to play hopscotch on

Is this what the old place has come to? Adrian thought sadly. It looked forlorn and forgotten. But then he remembered a developer had bought the property a few months ago to build a retreat, something Adrian could have been commissioned to oversee had he still lived in the area. Not that he would have ripped down his family heritage, but those were the kind of projects he'd been working on before his brother had ruined everything

A shaft of anger sliced through Adrian's heart at the memory, and he forced himself into action. Don't think about it now, he ordered himself. Concentrate on getting the hell out of this cart, and back home again

Once Adrian was standing unsteadily on his own two feet, he thrust his hand into his back pocket to fish out his mobile phone... which wasn't there.

Damn, he thought. I probably lost it between here and Timbuktu. Or was it lying in the back of the cart?

Adrian cast a glance into the hay strewn interior, but didn't see anything resembling his little black phone. Guess I could climb back in and dig around for it, but the thought of doing anything more strenuous than trying to stand upright right now made him can that idea

He saw a rather battered looking brown hat wedged behind the seat. Raking back his tangled curls, Adrian reached for the hat, gave it a dust off and set it on his head. At least now he had a better chance of avoiding the early morning sun boring holes into his irises

As he contemplated resuming his search for his phone, Adrian felt around in his other pockets.

Wallet. iPod. Keys. Wadded up hanky.

The only thing he really needed was missing, which meant he would have to approach the house and ask whoever lived there if he could use their phone

The place appeared to be deserted, almost derelict. And hadn't there been a horse harnessed to this cart the previous night? As he glanced around, Adrian noticed a stable or barn, and a rather ramshackle looking hen-house where a four car garage should have been. Who on earth would pull down a perfectly good brick construction and replace it with something that looked ready to collapse in the next southerly?

At that thought Adrian heard something that sounded distinctly like a door banging

Spinning back round to face the homestead, Adrian saw a figure walk slowly to the front steps and tip something from a pot onto the dusty earth. It was a short, slender woman, with the most stunning blonde hair imaginable. It cascaded about her slender shoulders and down her back like rippling waves of spun gold.

Amazing what a packet of peroxide could do, Adrian mused absently. Katrina had changed the color and cut of her hair almost as often as she changed her clothes. And woe-betide if he didn't notice. Telling her she looked beautiful no matter how she wore her hair didn't help. In the end nothing had helped, because she'd turned her attention elsewhere

Shaking those dismal thoughts from his mind, Adrian watched the blonde woman descend the steps and make her way across the dusty ground carrying a metal bucket in one hand.

He was now almost one hundred percent certain it was the same place. But something weird had been going on here since his grandparents had sold it, almost as thought the new owners wanted to return everything to a bygone era. Apart from the property looking like something from the nineteenth century, the young woman was wearing a long old-fashioned, dark dress of indeterminate color, partially covered by a stained white apron knotted around her slim waist

Perhaps she was part of some hippy commune that had taken up residence in his grandparents' home, Adrian mused. She could even be a squatter if the place had been abandoned. But somehow Adrian doubted it. It was worth too much for the new owners to let it slide into rack and ruin

The woman stopped at an old fashioned pump, Adrian hadn't noticed until now, and placed the bucket underneath it. She proceeded to pull the lever and a small trickle of water started to squirt into the pail. He could see she was having difficulty with it as she strained to make the water flow faster. It didn't work. The liquid continued to dribble at a snail's pace

Slipping into gentleman mode, Adrian headed around the cart towards her

He'd taken no more than two steps when his aching head protested with a sharp jab across the temples, and his vision swam. He groaned out loud, and the woman glanced in his direction

"Oh, you're awake," she remarked almost indifferently, before returning her attention to the stiff old pump

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her how she'd known he was there, when he remembered the missing horse. She must have been the one to un-harness the animal, which was probably when she'd noticed he'd brought back a passenger. So why hadn't she woken Adrian then? Probably because he'd been too out of it to move, he reasoned, massaging his aching temples. Someone must have spiked his drink, he decided. Alcohol had never made him feel this seedy

The woman muttered something else under her breath as she began to grunt from the effort of filling the bucket

Headache or no headache, a woman this dainty should never have to struggle like that when there was a perfectly fit male around, Adrian thought, as he gingerly made his way across the dusty yard towards her. Forget your throbbing skull and help the poor woman, he ordered himself

"Here, let me," he said, reaching for the pump's handle

She blinked up at him, and let it go. As he glanced down at her, he noticed that not only did she have beautiful hair she also had a beautiful face, shaped in a perfect oval with a cute nose, small pointed chin, and full pink lips. But her blue eyes were rimmed with weariness. They could have been as beautiful as the rest of her if only they weren't so dull with worry and sadness. She had a nice figure too, he noticed, with a tiny waist, softly curved hips, and a more than ample handful up top. His body thought so too. The involuntary response annoyed him, because this wasn't the time or the place to get a hard on

Adrian quickly turned his attention to the task at hand. As he worked the handle, managing to loosen its stiffness a little, he wondered why the heck someone had installed it here in the first place when the house had perfectly adequate plumbing.

The exertion made his head ache like crazy, but Adrian fought through the pain, not stopping until water started slopping over the edges of the old metal bucket. He bent to pick it up, feeling the roughness of rust underneath his palm

The woman didn't utter so much as a thank you. Instead she turned and headed towards the house, leaving Adrian to follow in her wake, as he carried the bucket inside for her. He kept his gaze locked on the swaying hem of her skirt, occasionally catching sight of a pair of rather battered lace up brown boots encasing small feet and slender ankles. Adrian couldn't believe it; even the sight of her feet aroused him. You just got dumped good and proper, O'Shea, he reminded himself. The last thing you need is to start getting romantic notions about a hippie chic in old-fashioned garb

Memory served him well, and Adrian easily found the kitchen, straight through the front door and sharp to the left, but when he reached the doorway, his mouth dropped open in astonishment

Instead of modern appliances and Formica topped benches, Adrian saw a rough wooden table, several cupboards with loose doors and an honest to goodness wood stove warming the room. A skillet on the stove top confirmed that this was how she cooked her food, and he saw large basket full of wood in the far corner

"Bring it over here," the hippie girl told him.

Adrian glanced to where she stood waiting in front of the bench beneath the window. The curtains shoved roughly aside were streaked from wood-smoke and cooking oil. Adrian was surprised he noticed such things, but after the zealous cleanliness of his grandmother, this place was in dire need of some TLC. The builder in him saw all the repairs that needed doing; hinges for the doors, a new handle for the bucket, some paint to brighten up the drabness

Impatient with him now she made to grab hold of the handle, causing water to slop over the side onto the wooden floor.

Adrian hefted it and set it on the bench top beside a chipped proclaim basin. Ye Gods, she drew water from an outdoor well to wash her dishes, he thought, seeing no sign of hot or cold running water anywhere. It compelled him to look up at the ceiling, and true to his suspicion, he saw no light fixtures whatsoever

Adrian's head began to throb again, not that it had really stopped hurting, and he brought a hand to his aching temple. It made him aware of the old hat he'd donned. He took it off, setting it down on the table in front of him. Untidy auburn curls flopped into his eyes, reminding him he was long overdue for a haircut. I must look a sight, Adrian thought, making him wonder why this woman had even let him into her house in the first place, unless of course there were others still in bed. The place was eerily quiet, the only sounds those of nature outside the window and the cracking of the oil in the pan

"Oh, sit down before you fall down," she told him impatiently

Suddenly that sounded like a very good idea, and Adrian gratefully sank into a convenient high backed, wooden chair. All he wanted to do was curl up in some dark corner and sleep like the dead. What the hell had they put into his drink last night? He was starting to feel the lethargy of a bad dose of the flu. That was all he needed, to get sick in the middle of nowhere with no means of transport. He really had to find his phone, make some calls to try and get out of here, but when he lifted his head, he groaned from the sheer agony of it

"Oh for goodness sake, just go to bed if you feel that awful," the young woman's cross voice filtered though the buzz of pain in his head.

Adrian was surprised to hear that she'd let him stay in her house long enough to sleep it off. "I appreciate it," he managed, as he tried to stand. Once again his head spun. This was just getting worse and worse

She came round to take hold of his arm, but Adrian knew he couldn't lean on her for support. She looked far too fragile to bear the weight of a six foot tall, muscle-bound man. Besides the feel of her small slender hand against his forearm had the same effect as gazing at her curvy body had outside, so he stepped out of reach, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. She remained at his side, walking with him though the house to what he recalled being his grandparents' bedroom

A double bed stood in its centre. Adrian saw a dark wooden wardrobe, a matching dresser and a tall old fashioned mirror in the corner. The window was open, and the cool morning breeze wafted in, ruffling the curtains. It made him shiver. As he sank down onto the edge of the bed, hippie chic went and closed it.

Adrian hoped this wasn't her room, but it made him conscious that he hadn't seen anyone else in the house. Surely she didn't live here all alone without running water or electricity. To confirm his suspicions, he glanced up at the ceiling, and once again saw no light fixtures of any kind

Curiouser and curiouser, Adrian thought to himself, as he tugged off his boots. The action made him wince, and he collapsed back onto the bed. He burrowed under the sheets and blankets where he took off of his jeans and shirt. At least it doesn't smell of horse was his final coherent thought before he drifted off to sleep
Chapter Three

Once again Cassandra ate her breakfast alone. She was on her own most of the time these days. After growing up in a household of three girls and two boys, the silence bore down on her like the weight of a heavy winter cloak, which she'd twice thought to shake off with the tiny cries of a newborn.

This big house easily could hold a family of ten. It had three bedrooms, a living room, a study, and a sewing room, where she headed once the dishes had been washed and stacked away

Almost as soon she sat down in the rocking chair her father had given her as a wedding present, Cassandra burst into tears. She'd been trying so hard to hold them back, but like a dam with a thin hairline fracture, the strain behind it finally broke through, gushing forth like a fountain

I miss my sisters, she thought as she cried. I miss my mother. I even miss my annoying brothers and my domineering father. I miss the laughter and the company. I even miss the arguments. But most of all I miss my babies, she thought mournfully, pressing both her hands against her empty aching abdomen

As she sat crying and rocking in her chair, she decided to harness Charlie to the cart and travel into town tomorrow to visit her family

Cassandra didn't like making the journey on her own, too worried about all the strange new travelers who'd come prospecting for gold. But she was lonely enough to seek out the company of her mother and her as yet unwed sisters. She contemplated doing it today, while her husband slept off another one of his overindulgences, but she felt too sore, and there was still too much blood

Tomorrow, she promised herself, as the gentle rocking motion helped calm her enough to gulp back the last sob and pick up her knitting.

She was working on a shawl for her mother, a Christmas gift for the upcoming festive season. This would be her first Christmas as a married woman, and it made her wonder if all marriages were as loveless and lonely as hers

She knew her parents no longer loved one another in the romantic sense, but both were hard working, and even though her father liked to throw his weight around, he'd always been a good provider. None of them had ever been left wanting. She'd never heard her parents quarrel. They had become so accustomed to their respective roles they could almost anticipate one another's actions

Marrying Erik Brady might not have been much better, but at least he was wealthy, already a bank manager at thirty-two. At first Cassandra had considered him too old and staid for her, but her father had encouraged their liaison, until the night handsome, sweet-talking, Adrian O'Shea had whisked her away from right under Erik's nose, and ruined her chances of ever becoming a banker's wife

No doubt Adrian regretted his rash actions as much as she did. Why else would he spend most of his time away from home? Why else did he drink himself into oblivion ever other night if he didn't long for a return of his freedom? But it seemed he was also drinking away his health and his fortune

Time passed so slowly now that she was on her own. Even though she tried to fill her days with chores, needlework and knitting, she had too much time to think. She'd read all the books she'd brought with her many times over, and Adrian never read. She suspected he'd never really learnt how, since he didn't even like her reading to him. But instead of admitting it, he dismissed it as a waste of time.

As the sun grew higher and the room warmer, Cassandra relaxed enough to set her work aside and fall into a light doze. Even though she knew it wasn't a good idea to sleep during the day because it often meant long sleepless nights, she welcomed the time out from her drab and dreary life. Sometimes she dreamt of better things, ideas and thoughts to write down in her journal with the hope that one day she might construct a fairytale for her children

Now she wondered if she would ever have a child. To have lost two at such a young age couldn't be a good sign. After her first miscarriage, the doctor had told her not to worry, that she'd have plenty more opportunities. But now she wondered if she really did want to go through it all again, particularly with Adrian as the father

She was jerked from her light doze by the raucous screech of a crow outside the open window. As she glanced at the clock ticking away in the corner, she saw that it was almost midday. She'd napped half the morning away.

Stretching and yawning, Cassandra realized that the sleep had done her some good after all. She no longer felt as sore. Perhaps she really had needed the extra rest

Feeling better, she decided to eat a light lunch and then launch into some more strenuous chores. After nibbling on some bread and cheese, and drinking a cup of tea, she collected the dirty laundry and took it to the wash tub out the back. Before she decided to draw some more water from the well she went into the main bedroom to see if there were any clothes there that needed washing. Adrian often left dirty socks and underwear lying on the floor

She saw the checkered shirt and dark blue trousers he'd been wearing lying neatly across the bottom of the bed. That wasn't like him, she thought, realizing as she picked up the shirt that she'd never seen it before. Just by glancing at it she could see it had been machine sewn, the stitching too small and even to have been done by hand. Here she was mending the same clothes she'd brought from home, and he spent what little money they had on a brand new machine sewn shirt

Cassandra crushed it tight in angry fists, glaring down at the man in the bed. He was lying on his side, one brawny bare arm flung over the blanket. His strawberry blonde hair hid most of his face from view. Cassandra couldn't remember it ever being this long, but then she hadn't paid him any more attention then he'd been paying her of late, so it didn't surprise her that she hadn't noticed how unkempt he'd become.

Another sure sign of his disinterest in his own well-being, she thought sadly, knowing she'd become guilty of the same thing, not even bothering to tie back her own hair most days

Why then the new shirt? she wondered, as she spread it back out again in her hands.

Various smells wafted up from it. Horse and hay, naturally, beer, of course, but there was a new scent she couldn't quite place. Almost like perfume. Cassandra brought the shirt to her nose. It smelt like some kind of cologne, but since neither of them could afford such scents, she wondered how it could have gotten onto his clothes

The thought struck out of nowhere, and she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her before.

Another woman!

He must be seeing another woman and she probably gave him the shirt, and no doubt the tough looking blue trousers as well, Cassandra decided, since she'd never seen them before either. The boots too, she realized, as she glanced down at them on the floor beside the bed. They looked almost new, and exceptionally well made, with fine contrasting stitching across the front

"Damn you," she cried out loud.

Thrusting the shirt from her, she stalked from the room in fury, her small hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

"Probably more than one woman," she muttered irately under her breath.

If he'd so glibly managed to get into her skirts why wouldn't he still be out there sewing his wild oats with every tart in town? Just as well not everyone had a father as righteous as her own, or Adrian would have been forced to wed the entire town

All right, she reasoned, it's probably just one woman, but why can't he be happy with me? Cassandra had tried to be a good wife in the beginning. Even now she never shirked her responsibilities. Perhaps it was like the demon drink. The lure of the other woman was something Adrian just couldn't resist

I just want to go home, she thought sadly, as her anger dribbled away into helpless remorse, and new tears stung the backs of her eyes. I need to do something to make my life more bearable

Her life grew even more unbearable that afternoon when she checked to see why her lazy husband was still abed, and found him covered in sweat, his skin burning hot. He'd thrown off the covers and was shivering with fever

Even though she was close to hating him, Cassandra didn't want to see him die, at least not through her own neglect, so she pulled the sheets and blankets back up over him, and went to find a cloth and fill a dish of cold water to cool his over-heated head

It reminded her of the phrase relating to redheads being firey like their hair. They must have had Adrian in mind when they'd coined that particular saying, because everything he did was on impulse. And now his careless life had brought his temperature soaring, and his nose running

During the night he even started coughing, and Cassandra barely got a wink of sleep as he tossed and turned beside her, muttering incoherently in his sleep. But there was one word she did recognize, a name

Katrina.

He said it over and over, confirming what Cassandra had already concluded, that he was seeing another woman called Katrina

Cassandra knew exactly when his fever broke, when he stopped shivering and repeating that other woman's name, because she saw him open his shamrock green eyes and stare at her as though he didn't even know her

She abruptly turned her back on him, too churned up with misery to sleep, but she must have dozed off eventually, because the rooster's first crow startled her. As morning light replaced the full moon's eerie glow, she got up and started getting ready for the day, ignoring the man in the bed completely

If Cassandra thought she'd felt miserable before, she now felt downright shattered. She would go home today, she decided. As soon as she was sure Adrian wasn't going to die from his fever, she'd pack a few things, harness Charlie to the cart and go to town.

She had to see her family, her mother in particular. Cassandra craved her counsel, her comforting arms, and she needed to work out what she was going to do about ending her marriage

Two dead babies and now another woman in her husband's life!

Cassandra knew some wives tolerated such behavior, but she'd had had enough.

Adrian O'Shea seemed to possess every vice under the sun, and for a young woman brought up to care for others, to work hard and to always do the right thing, Cassandra knew she couldn't carry on this way any longer.
Chapter Four

Adrian knew he'd been ill, but for how long he had no idea, as he gradually became aware of lying in a strange bed in a strange room

Slowly, bit by bit, slivers of memory slotted into place

The putrid pub floor.

The prickly cart of hay.

The old wood stove in his grandparents' kitchen.

A headache to beat all headaches

And the beautiful blonde woman in the old-fashioned long dress sponging his burning skin, her lovely face looking far too sad and serious for one so young. He knew he'd muttered Katrina's name as he cursed her to hell and back. But had the blonde angel really climbed into the bed beside him to go to sleep?

Nah, he decided. Adrian was pretty sure he'd dreamt that bit. He wasn't the kind of man to elicit that kind of reaction in women. Oh, he'd had girlfriends before Katrina. All right, make that two. Red hair and fair skin weren't high on a woman's lists of must-haves in a boyfriend, Neither was it conducive to the Aussie outdoor life-style, meaning Adrian always had to don a wide brimmed hat, factor 30 plus sunscreen, and a long sleeved shirt whenever he worked outdoors, which in his trade was almost every day and often all day

Mark, on the other hand could turn a rich honey brown. His hair was black, and his eyes even darker. He was six foot two with the build of an Adonis, hard earned, yes, but worth every minute spent pumping iron, if his never ending list of conquests was anything to go by. And, yes, he loved himself just as much as his racy new car

But did he love Katrina as much as Adrian had? Somehow Adrian doubted it. He suspected Mark was incapable of such deep devotion, not now that he knew what a low-life scum bucket he really was

"Bastard," Adrian muttered under his breath, and promptly burst into a coughing fit. His throat felt as though he'd swallowed half the Simpson Desert, but relief was at hand. He saw a metal pitcher and a glass of water standing on the bedside table just within reach

Adrian's hand shook as he took hold of the glass, but he managed to bring it to his lips and take a few gulps before he started to cough again. Setting it clumsily back down, he collapsed against the pillows once more

How could he not have seen Mark for what he was before this? Because Adrian had been so busy with his new projects and pandering to Katrina's every whim that he hadn't noticed the money slowly disappearing, not until he was told there wasn't enough to finance the new holiday complex he'd won the tender for

Adrian seriously wanted to knock both their heads together. They were made for each other, he decided. If Katrina was so shallow that she'd fall for Mark's good looks and smarmy charm, then Adrian wanted nothing more to do with her.

Conscious that he'd been lying there for quite a while, he decided it was high time he made his way home to try and sift through the tattered remnants of his life

Adrian sat up and reached for his shirt, lying in a crumpled heap at the end of the bed. As he slid across the mattress to pull on his jeans, he wondered where hippie chic had got to. She'd taken care of him while he'd been ill, but he could tell she hadn't been the slightest bit impressed about it. Well, who'd want to look after a complete stranger appearing out of nowhere on their doorstep? He'd have to thank her for her begrudging hospitality, making him realize he didn't even know her name

Once he had his boots on, Adrian stood, realizing that he still felt rather weak from his virus. His nose was running and he coughed a couple of times as he slowly made his way through the silent house

There didn't appear to be a soul about. Even hippie chic appeared to have abandoned the place.

He reached the kitchen and saw a small piece of paper on the table, resting against a bowl of fruit. Adrian picked it up. It had been written in a small neat hand with old fashioned curls and swirls

"Have gone to visit my family and do not know when I shall return. Give my regards to Katrina," Adrian read out loud.

It was the last bit that made him realize the note was for him. She'd signed it Cassandra. The name suited her. It was old-fashioned like its owner. This meant that she did live here alone, and she'd gone and left a complete stranger alone in her house? What kind of a crazy woman was she? Not that there was anything worth stealing, he thought, except perhaps for that apple. Adrian plucked it out of the bowl and took a bite

"Might see what else is here to take with me," he decided, and spotted half a loaf of bread underneath a wire mesh cover

Armed with a chunk of bread and another apple, Adrian headed outside. A warm spring morning greeted him. The sun was already high in the sky. As he glanced around the dusty yard, he noticed that the cart he'd woken in was gone

"Great," he muttered under his breath, because he'd been planning on searching it for his mobile.

Perhaps it had been moved into the stable, he mused, and headed in that direction. It didn't take much effort to slide the door across; the darn thing was almost coming off its hinges. If he knew where to find some tools, he'd fix it then and there. Glancing into the dim interior, Adrian clamped a hand to his nose. A confined space inhabited by animals always smelt like a zoo

There was an area inside large enough to house the cart, but the space was empty, as was the stall which he assumed would have been for the horse

All right, she'd driven off with the horse and cart, so there was nothing for it but to walk into town. Perhaps he'd be able to hitch a ride, considering how unwell he still was

Adrian was unprepared for the low bovine rumble of a cow behind him, and almost tripped over his own feet as he spun around to confront the animal. Luckily it stood behind a fence, and Adrian took a deep breath, trying to calm the loud thudding of his heart

"That's it. I'm outta here," he declared, and turned to stride away.

He didn't get very far before he started coughing again, and decided to take it a little more slowly. It was too warm for a brisk march through the countryside anyway. But at least the spring sunshine cleared his stuffy nose

Once he reached the main gate however, he came to a stunned halt.

What the hell had happened to the bitumen road that used to be there? All he could see was a dirt track and a half collapsed fence bordering the property

Okay, maybe they dug it up for resurfacing, Adrian decided. Sure, that was a logical enough explanation. Yeah, as logical as a pocket-sized woman riding around on a horse-led cart, drawing water from a pump-driven well, and cooking on an old wood stove

Or maybe I'm the one that's going gaga and seeing things, Adrian thought. He was pretty certain someone had spiked his drink, and he'd become ill from it, so perhaps his mind was still playing tricks on him, seeing things that shouldn't be there

Adrian blinked once, twice. No, he could still see dirt road, trees, long waving grass, and not a sign of human habitation anywhere, even though cars should have been speeding by at this time of day. Perhaps they'd closed the road while they were working on it, another logical explanation

Still shaking his head in confusion, Adrian began walking along one of the dusty ruts in the road, wishing he'd thought to pick up the battered old hat as the sun beat down on his head

It felt like a long time before he saw any sign of civilization, another homestead set well back from the track, a small cottage he couldn't recall ever seeing along this stretch of road. In fact there should have been a lot more houses by now, as the town had began to sprawl many decades ago

But Adrian didn't see any more houses for at least another ten minutes. Then he heard the steady drumming of hooves, and a man riding a horse appeared around a curve in the road

He tipped his hat as he neared Adrian who had come to a halt on the side of the road. The rider was a balding middle-aged man wearing a faded brown shirt and equally as colorless trousers.

"Mornin' to ya O'Shea," he greeted Adrian as he rode past

Adrian stared after him. How the heck had he known his name, when Adrian was certain he'd never seen him before in his life? By the time he thought to ask, the rider was gone

Turning back around, Adrian resumed his plodding pace, but his reserves were starting to flag, so he began nibbling on the tough slab of bread, hoping that something lining his stomach might revive him somewhat. Adrian blamed his recent illness, because until now he'd been able to plough through hours of physical labor without a problem

Suddenly, there before him sprawled the town, only it wasn't the town he'd expected, more like something off an old movie set. A cart very much like Cassandra's lumbered towards him, drawn by a tired looking draft horse. Adrian saw people walking up and down the main street, women in long hooped dresses with bonnets on their heads, men wearing hats and braces, more people on horseback, and not one single car in sight

Had the wooden sign to his left not read Bathurst, Adrian would have thought he really had stumbled upon some crazy re-enactment being staged especially for a blockbuster, but Adrian knew no one would use his humble home town for anything other than a documentary about the gold rush

The craziest thing of all was that he recognized it as Bathurst, having seen enough old sepia photos, drawings and paintings of its development over the years

Slowly Adrian began to walk into town, staring in absolute amazement at history coming alive all around him

I'm going insane, Adrian thought as another man he didn't recognize greeted him by name. As he passed a building that should have housed the Commonwealth Bank, Adrian saw a sign reading Brady's Bank. A skinny, sallow faced man in his thirties stood out the front smoking a pipe. He was wearing a smart old-fashioned black suit and top hat. When he became aware of Adrian's regard, he scowled rather disdainfully back at him

Adrian glanced away, taking in the other shop-fronts. An old fashioned barber's pole stood out the front of one, and Adrian instinctively reached up to rake his fingers through his long locks. Next to it was a baker, a butcher, the candle-stick maker. No but close, a sweet shop. Adrian crossed the road to it, almost ending up under the hooves of an impatient rider

"Watch where you're going, you drunken lout," a well dressed man of middle years growled down at him from the saddle.

Adrian was about to issue an indignant retort when he caught sight of the pub on the opposite corner. It was the same one he and his cousins had tried to gate-crash a couple of times before they came of age, and he was also pretty certain it was the same pub he'd been ejected from the other night. Built over one hundred and sixty years ago, it had withstood the ravages of time, thanks to regular heritage maintenance

"Adrian, sweetheart, so nice of you to drop by."

Startled by the feminine voice close to his ear, Adrian turned to see a willowy young woman with a mass of dark ringlets on either side of her head smiling toothily at him. Her hairdo reminded Adrian of Star War's Princess Lea's hairstyle. This woman however, wasn't wearing intergalactic robes, but a low-cut deep blue dress, adorned with enough ribbons and lace to tie back a dozen girls' hair. Like every other woman wandering about the place, the skirt was long and hooped. She also wore so much make-up she looked like a hooker, but since it was the middle of the day, Adrian doubted she was out here to ply her wares

"Come inside, Adrian," she urged, extending a slender well manicured hand. She motioned to the sweet shop. Deciding he'd had enough of the hot sun, Adrian couldn't think of a reason not to. He might even find out why the heck half the population of this crazy historical town seemed to know his name

So he followed the woman into the shop. A bell tinkled above their heads as they entered. It was much cooler in here, but the sickly sweet smell of so much toffee made it feel cloying. Perhaps it was also the cloying presence of the over-dressed woman, who he noticed now that they were out of the sun's glare, wasn't as young as he'd first thought

She sashayed around the counter, and picked up a candy-colored lolly. She held it out to him between two long pearly fingernails. The gesture reminded him of Katrina, and his insides squirmed uncomfortably

When he went to reach for it she snatched it back with a shake of her head. "This is a new recipe and I want you to be the first to try it. So say ahh."

"Not bloody likely," Adrian replied, crossing his arms over his chest

"Oh come on, I haven't laced it with pepper or vinegar just because you married that silly little Cleary girl."

"What?" Adrian gasped. Before he knew it she'd popped the sweet into his mouth. He almost choked on it, and had to cough several times to stop it from going down the wrong way

"It can't be that horrible. You're just acting now to annoy me," the woman chided

"Not like this whole bloody town is acting just to annoy me," Adrian muttered under his breath

She leant across the counter towards him and took hold of the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her. "Now let me see what it tastes like."

Before he knew it, her soft lips brushed against his, and her tongue darted into his mouth.

"Mmm," she sighed into his mouth. "Tastes very nice indeed."

Adrian jerked back, banging his right knee against the counter. It had the desired effect though; she let go of his shirt, but he almost choked on her sweet for a second time, still not really having tasted it

As Adrian bent to rub his sore knee, the bell over the door tinkled, and another customer pushed her bulky frame into the store, a grey-haired woman with an enormous bosom.

"I saw that, Prue Thomson," the newcomer declared, embedding podgy fists into her ample hips. "You should be ashamed of yourself, carrying on like that where the God-fearing folk of Bathurst can see you."

Then she turned to glare indignantly at Adrian. "As for you young man, go home and– "

Before she could finish her tirade, Adrian turned to stalk from the shop, but ended up limping instead. Whatever weird shit was going on here he wanted no part of it

Back out in the sunshine, he saw that Bathurst was still staging its historical reenactment.

Adrian caught sight of a newspaper stand a few doors down, and headed towards it, still limping and still sucking on Prue Thomson's lolly. He had to admit it tasted quiet nice, unlike her lips. For some reason all he could think of was Katrina and the way she'd dumped him like a ton of bricks. Perhaps it would be best to steer clear of women for the time being, he decided, particularly after the way his body had reacted to the lovely hippie chic, Cassandra.

What then had Prue meant by her comment about him being married? Besides Katrina's surname wasn't Cleary, It was Papondopolous. And if Prue thought he was married, why would she want to kiss him anyway? He wasn't heartthrob materiel like Mark. Neither would he cheat on his wife, if he had one

Adrian pulled the newspaper from the stand. It only consisted of a couple of pages, and looked just like one he'd studied on the microfiche in the library for a school assignment

More gold found in Sofala, the headline read. Adrian's eyes flew to the date. Yep, that matched the discovery. Oh, you guys are good, he thought, noticing a whole pile of papers stacked there, all exactly the same

"Yer gonna buy that," a man asked from beside him. Adrian glanced down at the corpulent vendor. "Didn't know ye could read, O'Shea."

Adrian thrust the paper at the man. "How come everyone knows who I am, and I don't have any idea who the hell you are? What's going on here, for goodness sake?"

"Too much to drink again, by the looks of it," the little man said with a sad little shake of his balding head

"I think I need one," Adrian muttered, feeling quite hot and bothered by now

Turning on his heel he limped in the direction of the pub. Before he got to it, however, he almost bowled over a cranky old man who tried to clobber him with his walking stick, and a dog almost tripped him up as it fled from a shopkeeper swearing at it for peeing on the wall outside his store

The pub was as dingy and smelly as Adrian remembered it from the other night, but not the one he'd managed to gate-crash all those years ago as a seventeen year old. Gone were the 1970s juke box and TV, the pool tables and the poker machines. The only thing that looked vaguely familiar was the long oak bar, behind which lounged the dwarf who'd ejected him two nights ago. Neither did Adrian see a large variety of bottles, just several kegs with taps attached to them

"Back so soon," the bartender rumbled as Adrian approached the bar. He wasn't the only patron. Two weedy young louts in their early twenties lounged against it, and a group of men sat in a far corner playing cards. "You're good for business, O'Shea, I'll give ya that."

"Just give me a beer," Adrian retorted. Maybe if I drink enough I might wake up and find myself back where I belong

As the little man slammed a tankard of brew onto the bench top in front of Adrian, making a substantial portion of it flow over the edge, Adrian realized why the people in this dream would know him. One of his great great grandfathers had also been called Adrian O'Shea. Must have looked a hell of a lot like me, he mused. He took a long deep draught of the brew, and promptly burst into another coughing fit

"What the heck is this? It tastes like dog–"

Before he could finish his sentence, one of the young men leaned towards him. "You got that money you owe me, O'Shea."

"Oh yeah, I've got a whole river full of gold," he replied blithely. This was a dream, wasn't it? He could say whatever he damn well pleased and none of it would ever matter in the morning

"What d'yer say?" the other chap asked, his beady little eyes widening

Adrian took another swig of the ale. It didn't taste any better, and he decided that he'd had enough of this damn dream about the past.

"Just kidding," he said. "There never was any gold in our creek. We tried panning a couple of times as kids, but only ever came up with a couple of little specks."

"Then how're yar gonna pay yer debts?"

Adrian threw his hands in the air. "You're asking the wrong man. Mark's the one you should be talking to, not me."

"Who's Mark?"

"My sweet little double-crossing, fiancé-pinching brother," Adrian said bitterly

"You gonna do a bunk like your brother are ya? Heard he left 'couse of a mountain of debts." The young man thrust his angular acne-scarred face close to Adrian's. "You've a week, O'Shea. Then I come and collect, one way or another."

Adrian fanned the air in front of his face. "Haven't you heard of flossing? Your breath stinks."

"No, O'Shea, you stink," a new voice said from behind him. Adrian turned to see the sallow-faced man from the bank standing a few feet away from him. He'd taken off his tall black hat, which he now held in his hands.

He marched up to Adrian and poked him in the chest with a bony finger. "You swagger around town drinking yourself stupid, sleeping with that slut Prue, while poor Cassandra is stuck out there all alone in that ruin of yours."

Another poke. "She could have married me and had a decent life, a proper life, but no, you had to knock her up, wreck her reputation, make her miserable."

He turned his attention to the two loan sharks. "If I hear you've hurt one single hair on her head you'll have me to answer to. Is that clear?"

The two men exchanged nervous glances. Obviously this scrawny looking nerd carried some weight in the town, because they didn't look like they wanted to mess with him

"I'd watch my step if I were you," he continued. "Beat the crap out of O'Shea. He deserves it. But leave Cassie alone."

Both of them nodded nervously.

The nerd cast Adrian one last demeaning glare before stalking from the pub

In that instant Adrian realized he wasn't dreaming, or hallucinating, or even going insane.

Somehow, beyond all rhyme or reason, he'd tumbled into the life of his great great grandfather, a man, it seemed, nobody in this town could stand
Chapter Five

It felt wonderful to be surrounded by her family again. Cassandra sat in the comfortable drawing room with her mother and sisters, listening to all their news, so happy to be back that she wished this afternoon would never end

Once her teenage brothers arrived home from school however, it was time to start getting things organized for dinner and the impending arrival of her father. What he would say on seeing her there, Cassandra dreaded to think, and shivered in anxious anticipation of his homecoming

As she helped her mother and sisters with their chores, she kept silent about the real reason for her visit. She knew they were curious, particularly her sisters. Isabella was the oldest, two years Cassandra's senior, and lamenting the fact she was still a spinster. Cassandra hoped her news would allay some of Bella's fears, because courting was one thing, being married a different kettle of fish altogether

Cassandra's younger sister, Clarissa, or Clara for short, had just turned eighteen, and was equally as starry-eyed about young men as Bella. They simply refused to believe Cassandra when she told them married life wasn't anything like they had imagined

As children the three of them had adored stories like Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast. Only now I'm married to a beast, Cassandra thought ruefully, as she started talking to her brothers about the races and the upcoming Christmas ball.

Brian would complete his education this year and join his father in running the hardware shop in town, where he was doing a roaring trade, having shipped in panning and digging equipment by the cart load. They had it stacked everywhere, in the shed, under the house, even in Cassandra's old room. It made Cassandra wish she was a man, because she would quite happily have worked in the store, even if it was behind the scenes doing the bookkeeping or inventory. But only widows or spinsters worked to earn a living, her father had told her. "A pretty girl like you, and a Cleary at that, will marry well," he'd declared confidently on numerous occasions

The O'Sheas might have had money once, judging by the big empty house she lived in, but it was all falling apart now, Father hadn't been the slightest impressed on seeing the state it was in, but had his tirade done any good? No. Adrian still hadn't lifted a finger to repair one single thing. Cassandra didn't even know if he had a trade, or what he'd done before his parents died within days of one another from a terrible illness that swept though the district six years ago

Cassandra remembered it well, because one of her school friends had died from it. That had been her first real experience with death. She hadn't realized until then that it could take the young along with the old. She'd cried for weeks afterwards, mourning the loss of a lively, pretty girl who had been fit and healthy one day, a pallid shadow the next, and gone the day after.

That was why she'd remained at Adrian's side when he'd broken out in a fever yesterday. Seeing someone else die like that wasn't something she wanted to experience again in a hurry. Obviously he was made of stronger stuff, because he'd pulled though, still sleeping soundly when she'd hitched Charlie to the cart and headed home

Home, she thought as she stood in her mother's kitchen. She still considered this home. Cassandra doubted she'd ever come to regard the O'Shea property as home, particularly if Adrian failed to pay those slimy young men their dues when they came calling next time.

Surely Father won't want to see me living on the streets, she thought, not now that he's making more money than he knows what to do with. Her brothers were going to be wealthy men one day, and she wondered if they were aware of this

Father arrived just as dinner was being placed on the table. He looked tired from his long day at the shop. But what stunned Cassandra was that he didn't appear at all surprised to see her sitting in the spot she'd always occupied. He was a solid, but short man, with a fleshy round face, receding brown hair, and shrewd hazel eyes.

All the girls had inherited the blonde curls, clear fair skin and elfin features from their mother, who was still an attractive, slender woman, despite having borne five children.

Her brothers, Brian and James, had taken after their father with their solid stocky builds and straight mousy brown hair. Neither were handsome, but they had steady stable personalities, more important than a comely face any day, something Cassandra had learnt the hard way. Falling for Adrian's beseeching green eyes and sunny smiles had definitely been her undoing

"Good evening Cassie," Father greeted her amiably as he took his place at the head of the table. "You're looking pale and thin, lass."

"Yes, I noticed that too," Mother agreed, ladling hearty vegetable soup into bowls

Now seemed as good a time as any to tell them, Cassandra decided. "I've lost another baby. That's probably the reason," she said sadly, once again feeling hot tears scald the backs of her eyes

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Cassie," Bella murmured, and reached out to hug her

Her mother, still standing, laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Cassandra placed hers over it, and felt her family's love wrap itself around her in a comforting embrace. It helped halt the tears in their tracks. She had cried enough these past few days

"Have you seen the doctor?" her father asked with a frown

Cassandra shook her head. "It was earlier than last time. I'm starting to feel better now."

"I still think you should go to see him. Take her tomorrow," he commanded Mother

"It's all right Father, I don't need the doctor. I just need a good long dose of my family," she said with a wan smile. "I've missed you all so much."

"And we you," Clara agreed

"All right, shall we say grace and eat our dinner. Then we'll talk some more," Father said, bowing his head. "I believe it's your turn, Bella."

Cassandra hadn't enjoyed a meal so much in a long time. To eat in the company of her family was exactly the medicine she needed. Conversation drifted onto more casual matters, and once they had polished off their dessert, Mother's tasty apple pie, the boys asked to be excused so they could finish their homework

"I guess the boys don't need to hear this," Father said as Mother began stacking up the empty dishes. "I know why you're here Cassie, other than your sad loss, and it concerns me greatly."

"You do?" she gasped

He nodded gravely. "Erik Brady came to the store this afternoon."

Cassandra felt her eyes widen. What could Erik possibly have to do with this? She thought he'd washed his hands of her long ago. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her at all. Both her father and Erik ran businesses in town, so why wouldn't they still converse with one another

"He told me that he'd seen your husband stagger through town with no hat, his hair as long as a girl's, looking particularly seedy, so he decided to follow him since it was his lunch break. First Adrian went into Prue Thomson's sweet shop, and then the pub."

Cassandra was surprised he'd hiked all that way after his illness, but then the lure of the demon drink could probably induce a ten mile sprint if he knew a beer was waiting for him at the end of it

"Oh that Prudence is a dreadful woman," Mother muttered under her breath, sitting back down again on the other side of the table

"I broke a tooth on one of her lollies once," Clara admitted with a grimace

"Would you stop interrupting me," Father rumbled. "Erik told me he saw Adrian and Prue kissing through the window of her shop."

A collective intake of breath ensued, and Cassandra's stomach did a sickening flip-flop, threatening to dislodge all her mother's good cooking. She bowed her head, knowing all her suspicions were about to be confirmed by cold hard evidence. Not only was Adrian involved with a woman called Katrina, he was also smooching the town's resident tart, and goodness knows who else

"When Mrs Briggs wandered in Adrian stumbled out and headed straight to the pub," Father continued. "Yes, I'm just as angry as the rest of you by what transpired in Miss Thomson's shop, but what Erik told me took place in the pub is of even greater concern. He overheard the Thomas brothers demanding money from Adrian. He didn't know how much but –"

"They came to the house while I was there on my own," Cassandra had to interrupt. "It's a lot, Father, an awful lot, and they scared me. Oh, there are so many reasons I'm here, but the most important one is that I want to divorce Adrian. I know it can be done. It's not just Prue. There's also a woman called Katrina. There's no baby. There will probably never be a baby. I just want to come home to my family. I'm so lonely and miserable out there. I cry all the time, when you know how contented I used to be... Please Father, let me stay? Everyone would understand. The silly gossip might even go away. I'm prepared to become everyone's old maiden aunt. Or I could get a job as a teacher or a nurse in another town –"

"Quiet!" Father bellowed. "There will be no talk of divorce, not yet anyhow... Tomorrow I'm going to take the afternoon off so I can take you home, where I shall have a good long talk with that foolish young man of yours. He is going to learn how to walk the straight and narrow. I will pay off his debts, and then he'll come and work for me. And if he so much as takes one day off, is seen within ten feet of the sweet shop, or any of the pubs, I will run him out of town with nothing but the shirt on his back. That property will become yours, and you will get your divorce. Is that clear?"

Stunned beyond reason, all Cassandra could do was sit there and gape at him

'Is that clear?" he repeated

"Yes, Father."

"I don't think I'd want to be Adrian O'Shea right now," Brian remarked from the doorway, before disappearing again to some other part of the house when Father turned to glare at him

Under the gentle glow of candlelight Adrian laid pieces of paper out on the old mahogany desk. Each contained a name. He was trying to piece together his family tree and longed for the convenience of his laptop computer

Outside the open window a cacophony of nightlife chirped, croaked and squeaked out their nocturnal chorus

"All right," he said out loud. "Adrian and Cassandra only had one child, Simon, who married Elanora when he was almost sixty." He moved those two closer together. "They had three children, Peter, Belinda and Sean. Sean died at sea. Belinda died in her teens, and Peter married Laura, and they had my grandfather, James. James married Bethany." Adrian placed the names of his parents, Susan and Ian, under James's name. "Susan and Ian had Mark and me."

"That still doesn't tell me why I'm here in the past," he muttered. "Obviously great great Adrian lived long enough to have my great grandfather. What the heck did he die of anyway? I don't think Gran and Pop ever told me that. Not from being beaten to a pulp by a pair of loan sharks, surely."

Cassandra was the one everyone remembered, because she'd written and illustrated numerous children's books which had been published in the 1870s and 1880s. The original first editions were now packed safely away in Ian and Susan's house awaiting the next generations of O'Sheas

Not going to happen if I'm stuck here in the past, Adrian thought ruefully. Mark and Katrina might oblige. Only by accident though, he added mentally, since Katrina had made it plain as day she never wanted to spoil her trim little figure by having a baby

Adrian bundled up all the pieces of paper and shoved them into a drawer underneath the desk. He was sitting in what was clearly meant to be a study. A bookshelf stood against one wall, containing some novels and picture books, obviously Cassandra's, since it seemed Adrian senior probably hadn't learnt to read

Why then had she left him that note? She couldn't possibly know he'd traded places with her husband, not if everyone else he'd met today had mistaken him for his great great grandfather. Now he understood why she'd been so abrupt and distant with him. That note had been a blatant barb at Adrian senior's infidelity. Adrian wondered why on earth he would want to cheat on such a lovely wife with the likes of sweet shop woman. Were he Cassandra's real husband, he'd never look at another woman again. She was so damn beautiful, so beautiful and so very very sad. How could his forefather have treated her so shabbily?

Did the two Adrians really look so much alike? Perhaps he really had slipped into his great great grandfather's body, but how could he have, when he'd arrived in his own clothes and his twenty-first century gadgets still in his pockets? Besides he'd glanced briefly in the mirror in the bedroom he'd woken in, and the disheveled, unshaven man peering back at him with bleary eyes had definitely been him

So if he was supposed to now be in his great great grandfather's shoes, did that mean Adrian senior was now living it up in the future?

"God help me if he is," Adrian muttered out loud, but somehow he doubted it.

Adrian had been brought here for a reason. To rescue the tragic Cassandra from her two timing, low life of a husband and deliver her into the arms of Brady the Banker perhaps? It was obvious he'd had a thing for Cassandra. To save Adrian senior from getting beaten up and to pay off his debts? Much more likely

Whatever the reason, Adrian suspected there would be no going back, or rather forward, until he did

But what about altering history? he asked himself. Adrian had seen enough time travel movies to know that he could very effectively wipe out his entire existence if he got it wrong. I'd better make it happen before they have my great grandfather, he reasoned, because I am not sleeping with my great great grandmother, no matter how beautiful she is.

Imagine her as a wrinkled old woman with a walking frame and white hair, he ordered himself.

It didn't work.

Her sweet face, sad blue eyes and softly curved figure swam into the forefront of his mind all too readily, leaving him feeling confused, worried, and more than a little embarrassed.
Chapter Six

Things became so busy in the hardware shop following the announcement of another gold discovery that her father sent a messenger to the house informing Cassandra she could stay another night, because he wasn't able to get away early enough.

She couldn't have been happier. That morning she'd accompanied her sisters into town armed with a portfolio of notes and coins Father had given her. Mother must have said something to him about the shabbiness of her dress after she'd gone to bed. With the money she bought some new cloth, ribbon and lace to make herself a dress for the upcoming Christmas ball, thread, new needles, and a whole host of other odds and ends

So with another day at her disposal, Cassandra joined her mother and sisters on a visit to their aunt where they relaxed on her shady verandah, taking tea, and chatting amiably as though none of them had a care in the world

Knowing that her father had her future welfare taken care of one way or another helped ease the pain in Cassandra's aching heart somewhat. No matter what Adrian did to jeopardize his own position, she felt secure in the knowledge that she would never end up starving on the streets.

Cassandra knew she shouldn't gloat over another person's misfortune, but she sincerely doubted Adrian would acquiesce to what her father was about to demand of him. It simply wasn't in his nature to do an honest day's work. She envisaged him gone by Christmas, treading the beaten track to goodness knows where just like his brother

It would mean the end of their marriage, so she would be free of him one way or another. Even though she'd be financially secure, Cassandra wondered if she could live out the rest of her life as an abandoned wife. She could always turn the O'Shea property into a school or boarding house, perhaps even a place for other abandoned wives and their children

All kinds of ideas and notions tumbled about her head as she sat in the back of the cart on the bed of straw with her sisters heading out of town the following morning. Her father was leading Charlie and Brian sat on the seat beside him. It was such a lovely day the rest of her family had decided to walk back into town after dropping her off. Cassandra was surrounded with parcels. She even had some new books to read.

She had also come up with a plan to ensure Adrian got to work on time. Some days she would go with him, drive the rig up to the store, let him off, and then spend the rest of day with her mother and sisters until closing time. Even though she was certain he'd never be able to cope with such an early start, Cassandra was prepared to give him as much of a chance as her father was giving him, particularly if it meant she got to see more of her family in the bargain.

"Last night I sorted out those Thomas brothers," Father called over his shoulder, breaking into her thoughts. "They won't be bothering you again, Cassie."

"Thank you Father," Cassandra called back, truly grateful she'd seen the last of those menacing young men

"That really puts Adrian into Father's debt, doesn't it?" Bella remarked from beside her

"Better to be in Father's debt than the Thomas's, wouldn't you say?" Cassandra replied, knowing full well Adrian wouldn't see it that way

"Look what I found," Clara announced, holding up a small shiny black object that looked a bit like a tiny trinket box

"What is it?" Bella asked, leaning closer so she could get a better look

"I have no idea. Do you Cassie? Oh my God, it's got a flashing light on it," she gasped, dropping it back into the hay with shaking fingers

Cassandra reached down among the straw to retrieve the little black box. It felt warm to touch, as though it was emitting heat of its own. And yes, there was a red light blinking on and off in one corner.

"How odd," she remarked. "No, I've never seen it before in my life."

"Wonder what's inside," Bella mused. "Want me to see if I can open it," She held out a hand for it

"What makes you think it opens?" Clara asked

"It felt like it had a seam running round the side, so it must be some kind of trinket box," she explained

Cassandra handed it to her, and watched as her older sister fiddled with it. Sliding her thumb into the seam she managed to wedge it open, and it flipped back the rest of the way on its own as though it contained a spring, only she couldn't see one.

The inside lit up with a multitude of colors, and Bella held it away from her. Cassandra could see she wanted to drop it again, or give it to one of the others. The bottom half comprised of little squares with numbers and strange symbols printed on them. The top section contained an extremely realistic picture of a strange looking building several stories high, with lots of curved balconies, and a swimming pool in the foreground, with umbrellas and brightly colored lounge chairs positioned around it

"Oh my, have you ever seen such a place?" Clara breathed in awe

"It's not a tiny book, is it?" Bella asked, sliding her finger around the rim again, no doubt to see if she could turn a page. "It feels too hard to be a book, more like some kind of rock. It's the darndest thing I've ever seen."

She pressed her fingers against several of the buttons, and the picture disappeared, only to be replaced with another one.

The three sisters stared in awe at a handsome, black-haired man leaning nonchalantly against a shiny metal contraption on wheels. He looked self-assured and confident, as though the whole world was his for the taking. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and a pair of tight fitting trousers that displayed his muscular physique. Cassandra watched both her sisters lean closer to get a closer look at him

"Who is he? And how did he just appear like that?" Bella murmured

"You bumped one of the numbers, or something," Cassandra suggested. "That one, I think." She took it from her sister, and pressed the button she'd indicated.

The picture of the handsome man disappeared to be replaced by the face of a beautiful dark-haired woman wearing a plain sleeveless black top that showed her ample cleavage. She had huge gold hoop earrings threaded through her lobes, and Cassandra could see one of her hands which bore long nails painted bright purple

"A harlot for sure," Clara breathed in awe, staring owl eyed at the picture

"What has you girls so intrigued back there?" their father called over his shoulder

Cassandra held up the device. "This. We found it back here in the hay. It shows pictures, real life pictures, better than a painting. It's amazing."

"I want to take a look at that," he commanded, but they struck an uneven part of the road, so they were all jostled about, making it difficult for Cassandra to keep hold of the device. "All right, show it to me when we arrive. We're almost there."

"Quick, see if there are any more pictures," Bella urged. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

Excitedly, Cassandra pressed the button again.

A middle-aged couple appeared on the screen; a woman sitting in a wheeled chair, and a man standing beside her who looked like an older version of the handsome young man from the second picture.

The woman had fair, freckled skin and a halo of red wavy hair, and she looked terribly sad, her face drawn and her eyes downcast. The man's black hair was streaked with silver, and he looked worried, a deep frown marring his patrician brow

The next few pictures were of more strange buildings, large and small. The beautiful dark-haired woman again, wearing a shiny silver top this time, her smile so white it was almost blinding

Then Cassandra saw a picture that made her gasp; "Oh my God, it's Adrian."

He was clad in short pants and a plain white top. The middle-aged couple from the previous picture stood on either side of him, making her realize they were relatives of his, because the woman had his hair and eyes, and the man Adrian's features, strong and angular with a wide, full lipped mouth. The man was also wearing short pants, just like a school boy, and the woman a floral dress that only reached her calves. They looked happier in this picture, both with smiles on their faces

Since Cassandra had never met Adrian's parents, she wondered if that's who they were, but for them to be wearing such strange attire, and for him to be in possession of such an odd device gave her goose-bumps

Suddenly the screen flickered and went blank. Even the little flashing light on the outside winked out

"What happened to it?" Bella asked, as Cassandra pressed the tiny button again

"I don't know." Cassandra shook her head, trying several other buttons to resurrect the device. Nothing worked. "Maybe Adrian can tell us," she decided, slipping it into her skirt pocket

Just then the cart rattled through the front gate of the O'Shea property, and they all fell silent. Cassandra sighed as the house came into view. Back to cold hard reality, she thought grimly

They all scrambled out of the cart, and everyone helped Cassandra carry various parcels and boxes inside. Father and Brien returned outside to lead Charlie into the paddock and unload the hay

Even though it was already after ten, Cassandra went to the bedroom to see if Adrian was there, since he rarely rose at a respectable hour. Not only was the bed empty, it had been neatly made, and not one item of clothing had been left lying about for her to pick up.

How odd, she thought. Perhaps he's still in town, but then he surely would have left the room a mess after recovering from his fever. It simply wasn't in Adrian's nature to tidy up after himself

With a bemused shake of her head, Cassandra carried her new materiel into the sewing room. That was exactly as she'd left it, her mother's completed shawl spread out across the arm of her chair

She showed it to her sisters who both declared that Mother would love it

Then she headed into the kitchen to make tea for everyone. As she went she shooed her sisters outside to ask one of the men to bring in some water.

As soon as she stopped in the doorway she saw that the cupboard doors had been repaired, and that the curtains were missing. She saw them flapping in the breeze on the clothesline through the window

The bowl of fruit was full again, and every pot, pan and plate was in its place

"The pixies have been here," she remarked in awe, turning to face Bella and Clara, returned from outside

"What do you mean?" Bella asked

"I've been meaning to wash those curtains for weeks, but the pixies did it for me. Look," She pointed out the window. Other washing hang alongside the curtains, mostly men's clothing, but also some towels and napkins

"I thought you stopped believing in pixies when you were ten," Bella remarked

"I did, but it certainly wouldn't have been Adrian, so I can only assume it's the pixies, or one of you organized for someone to come and do it for me."

"Not us. Perhaps Father or Mother did."

"Did what?" Father asked, as he walked into the room carrying a bucket of water in each hand

"Cleaned up this house and mended the broken cupboards," she explained

"Someone's been working on the barn too," Brian said, entering the room with another bucket of water. "There's new wood on the door and didn't you say it was coming off its hinges? That's been fixed too."

Father shook his head. "We were going to offer to do some repairs while we were here today, but..."

"Someone beat us to it," Brian finished for him

"Cassie thinks it was pixies," Bella grinned

"More like Leprechauns in this house," Father snorted, making them all giggle

"You didn't see Adrian while you were out there?" Cassandra asked

Both men shook their heads.

"Maybe he saw us coming and went to hide down by the river," Brien suggested with a snigger

Father lay a hand on his son's shoulder. "If he's not back by the time we've had our morning tea then you and I are going looking for him." Turning his attention to Cassandra, he asked; "Now what was this device you said you found?"

She pulled it out of her pocket. "It was showing pictures but it stopped doing that. You can have a look at it anyhow." She handed it to him. "I'll put the kettle on."

Cassandra went to the wood-basked, which she noticed was almost overflowing, and selected a few pieces of kindling, but when she went to put them in the stove, it was already full

She could only assume Adrian was the pixie, but since her father hadn't talked to him yet, she wondered why he'd cleaned, mended, and chopped the wood. Perhaps her 'nagging' as he called it had finally made an impact, but somehow she doubted it, wondering what his motive could be

Adrian still hadn't returned by the time they finished their tea, as well as some scones and jam Mother had sent along with them

Bella and Clara offered to wash up for her, and Cassandra trailed after her father and brother as they went in search of Adrian. She stood on the veranda, watching them head down to the river, before returning inside to enjoy the final moments with her sisters.

Cassandra was more apprehensive than ever about seeing Adrian again after so many days away, knowing what her father had to say to him would only put him in the foulest of tempers. When Adrian was in a bad mood, he stomped and raged about the place like a lunatic, cussing and breaking things. Luckily he'd never taken his bad temper out on her, but she steered well clear of him when he worked himself into such a state

His fly-away comment in the pub about panning for gold in the creek had given him the idea, but as he crouched knee deep in the chilly water, sifting through mud and rocks, Adrian cursed himself for a fool. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to change history by discovering gold he was certain had already been searched for

Well, not in this part of the river, he reasoned, standing up to stretch his back. Chopping wood with an axe wasn't something he'd made a habit of lately, so now he was paying for it with muscles seldom used protesting against the strain

Picking up his pan, shovel and pick, Adrian waded back to the river bank, dried off his feet in the long grass, and pulled his socks and boots back on.

As he turned to head for the homestead, he spotted two men coming down the slope towards him. It wasn't the lone sharks from the pub, and if they'd sent these guys in their stead, they were a few days early

As they neared him, Adrian saw that one was barely out of his teens, a youth as short and stocky as his balding father. But Adrian didn't underestimate the older man. He had a ruthless face, not someone you'd double-cross in a hurry. They were also well dressed, wearing neat dark trousers and crisp clean cotton shirts, not slovenly like the Thomas brothers had been.

It made Adrian conscious that he must look even worse with his over long hair, too short trousers, and a shirt that barely did up. His great great grandfather had obviously been a shorter, slighter man than him

"I should have known you'd try and hop on the bandwagon," the middle-aged man remarked snidely, coming to a halt several feet in front of Adrian, where he arrogantly jabbed his hands into his hips. "I can see you didn't get the panning equipment from my store."

"What store would that be?" Adrian asked in all innocence. He'd found the gear in the barn, and had no idea as to its origins

"Don't play the fool with me, Adrian O'Shea. You'll become very well acquainted with the inside of my store right along with Brian here. Only your apprenticeship begins next week."

"I finished my apprenticeship years ago," Arian replied truthfully. "And a part-time business management course while I was working full-time for my father."

"Well, you haven't been doing anything constructive with it lately, have you?" the man sneered disdainfully

For a moment Adrian had forgotten who this father and son team thought he was, someone not even worthy to clean their boots obviously. Adrian was about to give him what for, when the man held up a hand, his stern face turning even grimmer

"To ensure the safety of my daughter I have squared your debts for you. Now you are in my debt for as long as I deem it. You will come to work for me. You will perform whatever duties I assign you, competently and without complaint. You will arrive for work every day, on time and properly attired. And most importantly you'll never talk to Prue Thomson or this Katrina woman again. You will desist in your incessant boozing and be a proper husband to Cassandra. Am I making myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Adrian replied, taking a step back. With a father-in-law like this who needs enemies? he thought as he almost tumbled into the water behind him. Wouldn't Mr Cleary have loved that? At least now he knew who he was dealing with

Someone get me back to the future right now, he begged the heavens silently

"Exactly what will my duties be?" Adrian asked as the silence between them lengthened and thickened ominously, and he realized the powers that be were not going to comply with his plea any time soon

Mr Cleary scowled back at him. "I just told you, whatever I deem fit."

He's planning on humiliating me, Adrian thought. There were no industrial relations laws in the 1850s, no set working hours, no minimum wages. The man could basically do as he pleased. Had he really been Adrian senior, he would have been wetting his pants right about now. As it was Adrian wasn't the slightest impressed with the man's arrogance

"And if I don't?" he asked, planting his own hands on his hips

Mr Cleary smiled thinly, nastily. "Thought you might ask that. The answer, my friend, is that Cassandra gets the divorce she's asked for, along with your property, and you get to leave town with your tail between your legs like the dog you are. Is that clear enough for you?"

Maybe I should just start walking now, Adrian though. This isn't my life. I don't even belong here. Surely I'm not meant to fix this mess my idiot forefather got himself into.

Then he remembered one of his grandparents wouldn't be born if Adrian senior wasn't around. But Cassandra wanted a divorce. She didn't want him to father her children.

If I'm to exist at all, she has to stay married to me, Adrian realized, which means I have to suck up to granite-features here, and somehow convince Cassandra that my great great grandfather isn't the useless, drunken moron everyone thinks he is

Besides Adrian had never been adverse to hard work, and it looked like he would have to live this life until the fates decided to return him to his rightful place and time. Perhaps a stint in the past might even help him to sort out what to do about his tenuous future. "On one condition," he replied

Mr Cleary sucked in his lower lip. "You're in no position to make demands O'Shea."

"That there's no divorce."

Brady the banker's thin, sallow face flashed before his eyes, making him wonder if perhaps she would have preferred to marry him, because he certainly seemed keen on her. She was an incredibly beautiful woman after all. What man wouldn't want to have her by his side? Adrian senior would be a fool to let her go, which made Adrian wonder how he'd managed to snare himself such a gorgeous wife in the first place. He was definitely more suited to the seedier types like Prue Thomson

But then my taste in women isn't much better, Adrian thought ruefully. Cassandra with her mournful blue eyes deserved better than that

"Ah, so there's some humanity in you, after all. Or could it be that I've banished all the other women in your life?" Mr Cleary remarked drolly

"Think what you damn well please. I'm not divorcing Cassandra," Adrian asserted

"Then you'd better show up for work on Monday morning bright and early. And show Cassandra some respect. Your courting days might be over, but a wife still needs to know she's appreciated and valued."

Man, this guy sure hates my guts, Adrian thought. For the sake of his future existence Adrian was prepared to eat a tiny piece of humble pie, but it wasn't going to be easy being everyone's punching-bag.

Somehow he had to turn around his great great grandfather's unfortunate reputation. It was the only reason he could think of as to why he'd been brought here in the first place. It certainly hadn't been for his own benefit. He couldn't help wondering if this was his punishment for making such a mess out of his life. Adrian already knew his father would be bitterly disappointed when he found out the family business was no more. Ian didn't deserve that, not when he already had his ailing wife to care for. But what Adrian was going to do about it stuck here in the past, he had no idea

"All right, shall we return to the house?" Mr Cleary suggested. "Cassandra's back and the rest of us need to return to town. By the way, is this yours?" He pulled something small and black out of his shirt pocket, and held it up for Adrian to see... his mobile phone

"Yes," he replied. There was no point in lying, since he could see the battery was flat, meaning it would be totally useless until he got it onto a charger more than one hundred and fifty years from now

"What does it do? My girls said they saw pictures of harlots on it."

"What?" Adrian gasped. He'd taken some photos of his projects, his family, Katrina. Recalling the sexy summer tops his ex-fience had been wearing at the time, he supposed she would look like a harlot to someone from a pervious century.

He snatched the phone from the older man's hand. "It doesn't do anything. It's broken. Might as well throw it away."

Since he never wanted to look at Katrina again, Adrian flipped it over his shoulder, hearing it splash as it hit the water behind him

"Destroying the evidence won't change what you are, Adrian O'Shea," his great great father-in-law reminded him tersely

"Oh, I've changed in more ways than you can even begin to imagine," Adrian replied truthfully as he began to stride back up the hill towards the house. "I'm not the same person I was three days ago, not by a long shot." Suddenly finding yourself in the past kind of does that to a person, he thought ruefully to himself. And now he had to face Cassandra, his all too beautiful great great grandmother, who thought he was her husband.

How the heck do I handle that without altering history? Adrian asked himself.

Or course no answer came.

Adrian would have to play it by ear, but for someone used to planning things well in advance, this entire situation was becoming more complicated by the minute
Chapter Seven

Cassandra knew there was something different about Arian almost from the moment he stepped through the door behind her father and brother. For one, he wasn't in a rage as she'd expected. Oh, he looked tense and ill at ease, but there was a sense of purpose about him that hadn't been there before.

Whatever her father had said to him down by the creek, it must have really got him quaking in his boots, because he was suddenly working on various projects about the house as though his very life depended on it. After seeing her family off, and eating lunch, she saw him repairing fence posts, sharpening tools, tinkering with the pump, and then washing various implements under it

Cassandra sat on the veranda sewing the first tier of her ball gown, watching him come and go all afternoon. He didn't stop once, even when she called him inside for a cup of coffee and some scones. Neither did he look at her. His eyes remained hidden behind his over long fringe as he gulped down the food, before returning to his tasks after a murmured thank you

It could also be that he doesn't want to spend any time with me, she thought sadly, since it was my father who put the wind up him in the first place. He's probably regretting ever having kissed me. No matter how much she wanted to hate him, that first kiss had made her toes curl and her insides quiver. If only she could experience something like that again, just once more. But Adrian even decided to sleep in the spare room that night

Cassandra couldn't believe it when he asked her in a low voice where the sheets were so he could make up the single bed. She didn't say a word as she went to the closet. Once she had them in her hands, she thrust them into his arms with such force he actually took a step back, making him blink back at her in surprise. Then she stalked past him to slam the door to their bedroom behind her

I should be glad he doesn't want to sleep beside me anymore, she thought as she climbed into the big bed. But she wasn't. It didn't make any sense. Adrian had done everything to make her hate him, and yet she couldn't

He's only doing all this work so he doesn't lose his precious homestead, she reminded herself. It's not because he cares one iota about me, or anyone else for that matter. All that Adrian cares about is himself and the demon drink, she thought as she tossed and turned in the big bed

But if he was missing his beer, he didn't appear to be showing any signs of it.

By the second evening, the night before he was due to begin work at her father's store, Cassandra could still hear him hammering and sawing outside.

It was like living with a stranger, someone who looked like her husband but wasn't. But then did she really know who he was? This could just be his way of cooling his volatile temper, by taking his frustration out on the fence posts, the lose verandah railing, or the overgrown garden bed.

At least it meant they got fixed, she supposed, but she felt the familiar loneliness creep up on her as she stood at the kitchen bench chopping vegetables for dinner. It felt like living with a ghost. a shadow of a man who disappeared the moment she so much as asked him a question

Leaving the stew to simmer on the stove, Cassandra finally took her new books to the study. She'd been too engrossed with her new sewing project that she hadn't even opened them. Shifting a couple of others aside, she slid the new books in beside them. As she turned, she saw a large leather-bound tome lying on the desk under the window.

Never having seen it before, she went to open it. To her surprise, it was filled with blank pages. She flicked through it just to make sure, and then found some writing on the very first page

"For Cassandra," she read. "To write of love and laughter and dreams of forever after."

It had been left unsigned, and she didn't recognize the hand, but she knew who'd left it there. Tears pricked her eyes as she picked up the beautiful book and hugged it to her

A noise behind her compelled her to turn, and she saw Adrian standing in the doorway looking tired and more disheveled than usual

"I'm going to give you a haircut after dinner," she decided, still hugging the volume to her. "You can't go to work tomorrow looking like that."

He raked a long-fingered hand through his tousled damp curls, sweeping them back from his high forehead, revealing his intense green eyes for probably the first time in days. "Are you any good at hair-cuts?" he asked softly. Cassandra had never known him to talk so quietly and deeply, making her wonder if his recent illness had affected his voice.

"I've cut your hair before and you've never complained." Why was he suddenly acting like he didn't even know her? Probably because he'd never really tried to get to know me, she answered herself. But surely he must remember that she'd cut his hair. He hadn't been that drunk

"So you found it." He motioned to the book clasped in her arms

"Why didn't you tell me it was here?" she asked

"It was meant to be a surprise," he answered in that same soft, gravelly voice, awkwardly thrusting his hands into his pockets, still not moving from the doorway. Since he rarely ventured into this room, she could only conclude it was because all the reading materiel it contained overwhelmed him

"I'm coming to town with you tomorrow morning to thank them for this beautiful gift. Oh, I have the most wonderful family," she signed, closing her tear-blurred eyes.

When she opened them again Adrian had left the doorway.

Realizing she'd left the stew unattended for a long time, Cassandra laid the book back down on the desk and returned to the kitchen

They sat down to dinner a short time later. It was still light outside, the days growing longer now that summer was almost upon them. Adrian didn't look up once as he ate, his long fringe obscuring his face. Like every meal they'd shared since she'd returned, neither of them said a word. The silence was really starting to grate on her, but Cassandra didn't know what to say or do to ease the tension between them. Obviously he was still smarting from having to now bend to her father's will, and sought to punish her for it by abandoning their bed and treating her like a stranger

She still had some scones left, so they had those for dessert with another cup of tea. Then she went into her sewing room and selected a pair of shears. She returned to the kitchen with them, where she found Adrian doing the dishes, something else she had never seen him do before

"Leave that," she said. "I want to cut your hair while there's still some daylight. Come outside."

Without a word Adrian dried his hands on the dish cloth, and followed her out onto the veranda, where she pulled a wicker chair towards the edge of the deck, and he sat down in it.

"It would be much easier if you took your shirt off. It's warm enough and then the hair will just fell through the cracks in the floorboards," Cassandra suggested

"The mossies will eat me alive if I do that," he protested

"Oh, don't be such a baby," she admonished as she fingered a tangled lock of his hair. "I think I'm going to need a comb. Be back in a minute."

On her return she noticed that he'd complied with her request, the shirt now draped across the edge of the small wooden table she'd set her scissors down on

Had he always had such a muscular body? she wondered as she gazed down at him. For someone who shirked at doing anything more than the bare minimum, the muscles on his upper arms bulged, and his smooth hairless chest was broad, tapering to a slender waist and hips, with a rippling washboard stomach. Since they always bathed separately and engaged in their coupling under the cover of darkness, Cassandra realized she hadn't really taken a good long look at him in ages

Suddenly he looked up, and met her gaze, his eyes so green and clear, not bloodshot like she'd grown used to seeing them. His face too seemed smoother, his lips fuller, his hair thicker, more golden than red. But it was the look he gave her that startled her. Searching, beseeching, asking for something, what she had no idea, and he didn't enlighten her, merely continued to hold her gaze with those intense Irish eyes of his

It felt like trying to walk underwater as she tore her own gaze away and went to stand behind him. For some reason her hands trembled as she started combing his red-gold hair. Had it always been so soft to touch? She couldn't help but run her fingers though it a few times, and she heard him sigh, as he leant his head back against her abdomen

His action made her jerk away as she remembered the baby that no longer nestled there. Picking up a lock of hair, she began cutting, suddenly feeling angry again, not taking the care she should to ensure it was even

Once she calmed down a bit, she thought she should tidy up her work. He was going to find his new life hard enough as it was without starting his first day with a terrible haircut.

As she started on his fringe, she decided to leave it slightly longer. That rakish lock of hair across his brow had always looked so attractive, and she wasn't disappointed. No matter how awful he was capable of being, she still considered him the most handsome man she'd ever seen

Once again Cassandra slept in the big bed on her own, tossing and turning, and having strange dreams about Adrian holding her against his strong muscular body, his soft lips on hers, kissing her over and over again

She woke still feeling tired and rather confused, because she hadn't had such notions since her courting days, and even then he hadn't done it right, not like Erik Brady who'd asked her father if he could take her for a buggy ride the week after the bush dance. He hadn't even asked if he could hold her hand until their third outing. They'd never even kissed

And here she was dreaming about Adrian's passionate mouth, a mouth that had kissed Prue Thomson, a woman called Katrina, and goodness knows who else, probably the reason why he was so good at it, she reasoned.

Cassandra should be glad he was sleeping in the other room, but no matter how many times she tried to tell herself that, her body seemed to want something else entirely. Looking at his muscled chest, his strong arms and long, lean legs had fired a desire she thought she'd never feel for him again

They set off after breakfast, the morning air still crisp and the grass wet with dew. Cassandra had packed Adrian some lunch, and for herself her sewing and the beautiful new book. She sat stiffly on the rig, as far away from him as possible. He told her she could lead Charlie, which she thought was odd, but since she'd be the one to take the horse and rig back to her parents' stables, she obliged readily enough. Other than those few words, they made the rest of the journey in silence

Her father's assistant was opening the store when they arrived. A few customers were already waiting outside, strangers all of them; men come to try their luck at the gold digs, no doubt

"Here we are," she said, reining Charlie to a halt.

Her father appeared in the doorway, and Adrian jumped down from the rig. She handed him his lunch pail and water flask, and quickly took up the reins again. Neither of them said anything else as she rode away

The tension in him had been palpable all the way into town, but Cassandra wasn't going to make his life any easier by trying to placate him with well-wishes or even a peck on the cheek. If he wanted to keep her at an arm's length then she could just as easily do the same

Her brothers were just leaving for school when she arrived, so they stopped to help her stable Charlie. Once they parted company, Cassandra entered the house, which always smelt of food, porridge this morning, as they'd just had breakfast

Cassandra helped her mother with some chores, and at morning tea-time, when the four women sat down on the veranda, Cassandra pulled out her sewing to show them the progress she was making with her gown. They were all impressed with her neat even stitches, and the softness of the materiel

Finally she drew out the book. "I've already drawn in it," she announced, opening a page containing an ink sketch of Charlie. "I haven't done any in such a long time, so I think he's a bit out of proportion, but at least it looks like a horse." She held it up for them to see

"I'm so glad to see you drawing again," Bella smiled. "That's a beautiful book. Where did you get it?"

Cassandra frowned. "Why, I thought one or all of you would have given it to me." She opened the page with the unfamiliar writing. "None of you wrote this?"

They all peered over her shoulder at the script. Every one of them shook their heads.

"What about Father?" Clara suggested

"He wouldn't write anything so poetic," Cassandra answered, and her mother nodded with a wry smile.

"It's not his hand either."

"Then who?" Cassandra asked in confusion

"Have you asked Adrian?" Mother suggested

"Of course not," Cassandra said at once. "I don't think he can even write."

"Perhaps he got someone else to write it for him," Bella suggested

"Adrian would never think of giving me a gift like this. The man doesn't have a caring bone in his body." But then she remembered what he'd said when he saw her with the book in the study. He'd looked almost sheepish, and when she'd assumed it was from her family, he'd simply walked away. For the rest of the evening he'd been cool and distant. But he's always like that, she reminded herself, even more so now that he's in Father's debt

"Maybe he's trying to make it up to you," Bella, the eternal optimist, persisted

"Only because Father's threatened to take his home away from him," she retorted. "I really wish I was staying with you over the Christmas Holidays," she said in a more subdued tone. "Do you suppose if I asked Father he'd say yes, since he's been so good to me over the past few days?"

"I don't see why not. It would also teach Adrian to fend for himself for a few days," Mother agreed

"He can fend for himself very well when he puts his mind to it." Hadn't the past few days of almost constant repairs been proof of that? she thought to herself. "It's just that he never does... Maybe it has something to do with losing both his parents when he was Brian's age... Suddenly inheriting everything and having the freedom to do as he pleased probably went to his head," Cassandra mused out loud, wondering if it was the comment about her wonderful family that had driven him from the study the other night. Adrian had no relatives that she knew of. He didn't have any friends either, unless one could call his drinking companions mates. He could have had me and my family, she thought sadly, but no, he had to ruin that too

"You might have a point there, Cassie," her mother agreed. "Perhaps some time in your father's store will help to settle him down, and he might become a fair husband to you."

"Somehow I doubt it, Mother. It's been almost a year and things have only gone from bad to worse. He's had his chances. He would have to do something quite spectacular to win my respect now."

"So you don't believe he gave you the book?" Bella asked

"Not in a million years. I think Erik gave it to Father the other day when he went to visit him at the shop. That's who I believe it came from," Cassandra decided at last

The other three women looked shocked

"You can't still have designs of Erik, my dear. Even if your father does let you divorce Adrian, you couldn't possibly marry Erik."

"I know that, Mother. I think it was just a gift to give me courage. I mean if Erik is still keeping an eye out for my wellbeing, then he's a true gentleman."

Cassandra felt sadder than ever after that conversation. Knowing she'd married the wrong man weighed heavily on her mind, and she passed the rest of the day in a kind of absent-minded daze

Just before she was about to serve the evening meal, Mother suggested Cassandra and Adrian stay for dinner, insisting she'd cooked enough for everyone. Cassandra gladly accepted the invitation, but Father and Adrian arrived late for dinner, making Mother lament that her roast was now too tough. But no one complained. They all tucked in with great gusto, talking and laughing like they always did.

Everyone ignored Adrian sitting beside Cassandra at the end of table, pretending he wasn't even there. Since he'd never been invited into their house before, she supposed it was only out of respect to her that Father hadn't asked him to wait outside till she was ready to leave. But for some reason it saddened her to see them display such out of character unfriendliness. But then he hadn't done anything to endear himself into the Cleary family either, so she supposed he couldn't really expect then to include him in their conversation.. But Adrian had always had an opinion on just about everything, making her wonder why he was keeping his thoughts to himself all of a sudden.

Every so often she glanced in his direction, but he kept his head bowed over his plate, hiding whatever emotion he might be feeling behind the grim set of his jaw, and a tight edge to his well-shaped mouth

It wasn't until they were leaving, and he helped her up onto the rig, that she caught sight of the expression on his face. He looked tired and angry, not a good combination

She laid the book across her lap, and turned to her father standing beside Mother ready to wave them off. "Was it you, Pa, who gave this book to me?" She motioned to the tome

"No, lass," he said shaking his head.

Cassandra frowned. This left only one person, the grim-faced man now climbing onto the seat beside her. Once again he handed her the reins

"I'm too tired to drive," he told her.

She accepted the strap, waved goodbye to her family and set Charlie on the course for home. They rode in silence, each keeping to their end of the seat

"I suppose it was a trying day," she dared to remark eventually. They had left the town behind, and Charlie was now plodding through the darkness in front of them

"You could say that," came his weary reply. "Thank your mother for the meal when you see her next, except if she laced mine with poison and you find me dead in the morning. Then you can tell her it tasted like dog shit."

"Oh Adrian, I'm sorry," she couldn't help imparting, deciding to overlook his bad language. The man looked absolutely shattered, and that was after only one day's work. How would he be after a week? Dead not from poisoning but from sheer utter exhaustion!

"No, you're not. You want to break me, you and your family. Well you've got the wrong Adrian O'Shea this time."

"What do you mean?" She peered at him in the darkness, seeing his strong masculine profile silhouetted against the star-studded sky

"When you're ready to hear it I might tell you. In the meantime, just let me rest." With that he climbed over the seat and stretched out in the back of the cart, using an old hessian bag as a pillow

"You gave me the book, didn't you?" she asked over her shoulder

No response from the back of the cart. He'd either already fallen asleep or decided to ignore her
Chapter Eight

If there's Hell on Earth, then I'm in it, Adrian thought, as he hefted another box of shovels delivered especially for the gold rush. What he wouldn't give for a forklift right about now. What he wouldn't give for his old life back. But after two weeks in the olden days, he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever get back to microwaves, rock music and fast cars

He missed his air-conditioned unit, his computer, but most of all he missed his parents. They must be worried sick about him by now, thinking he'd done something stupid after his break-up with Katrina. That was if time even flowed the same way, because surely once he went back, he'd find himself in the same place he'd left it, flat out on a pub floor

Adrian suddenly understood why his great great grandfather had craved the stuff so much, because Adrian could do with an ice cold beer right about now. He was so hot, sweaty and dirty, he felt nauseous. But stopping for so much as a sip of water was not an option in this workplace, particularly not for him

True to his suspicions, Mr Cleary gave Adrian the dirtiest, hardest, and most tedious jobs he could think of. He also must have told his other employees to use him as a doormat, because they seemed to delight in calling him names and sabotaging Adrian's work to make him look bad in front of the boss

The problem was Adrian could see so many ways they could run the place more efficiently

On the days that Cassandra accompanied him, he silently endured their evening meals where the Clearys sat around him pretending he didn't even exist

Cassandra, he thought, her beautiful face flashing in front of his eyes. Adrian mopped his brow with an already dripping handkerchief. Cassandra with her golden curls, big blue eyes and soft slender curves. No wonder women had worn long flowing dresses for so many centuries. They might hide their legs, but the flowing lines of her skirts and puffy sleeves accentuated a tiny waist, a shapely bottom and two pert but full breasts.

The more he saw of her, the more he longed to take her into his arms and feel those soft slender curves press against him. He ached to kiss that perfect cupid bow mouth of hers, to drown in her soft blue eyes, lie her down upon the bed and make love to every gorgeous inch of her

All things he knew he would never do, because he wasn't her husband. How could he stoop so low as to even think about making love to another man's wife, his great great grandmother at that? Which meant he would have to tell her who he really was, and soon, because he knew she felt it too.

That night she'd cut his hair, she had stared at his bare chest for such a long time, her eyes no longer sad, but alight with desire. And she'd enjoyed running her fingers through his hair. But for some reason she too was holding herself back. Probably because his great great grandfather had been such a beast to her.

His ancestor must have had something going for him, other than looking good without a shirt on. Adrian knew he had a nice physique from all the hard work he did, but when he compared his pale skin to Mark's rich dark tan, he thought he came a poor second. And hadn't his brother rubbed it in, always quick to tell him how many times he'd scored in a week, and how many girlfriends he'd let down simply because a better offer had come along. But no matter how many times Adrian told him he was a one woman man, Mark had persisted in playing the field, until Adrian had fallen in love. Then he'd done the worst thing possible, stolen his fience from right under his nose

Adrian knew he wasn't behaving much better towards Cassandra than his forefather had. In his attempt to keep out of her way, he was probably alienating her even more. But Adrian dreaded doing something that might jeopardize his entire existence. He had horrifying visions of simply vanishing into thin air instead of returning to the future where he belonged. He didn't want to succumb to her sweet, feminine charms and cause a rift in time and space. Not that he thought himself important enough to cause anything quite that catastrophic, but Adrian felt so lost and lonely, he was surely tempted to try and ease the torment by becoming Cassandra's husband in every sense of the word

Surely she must suspect by now he wasn't the same man, that Adrian senior wouldn't have been able to handle what Cleary and his crew dished out every day. Adrian could barely stand it himself, and had been close to retaliation many times. Reminding himself that he had to get through this if his family were to even be born kept him from thumping the lot of them

But for how much longer? he asked himself crossly. How many more days must I endure this crazy, back-breaking life until things return to normal? Adrian was beginning to fear he'd be stuck here permanently, and when he did return home, nothing would ever be the same again

Adrian felt a sudden jab in his back. He turned sharply to see Mr Cleary hefting a shovel. "Stop standing there daydreaming about Leprechauns doing the work for you and bring in the next bag."

"There isn't room back here for another bag. If you'd let me build you a rack, all along here," Adrian walked the length of the back wall. "We could stack and itemize the lot, even the equipment you store at your house, and everyone would know where to find things as soon as a customer walked in the door." He stopped, realizing suddenly what he'd blurted out. He was probably going to earn himself another half hour of unpaid overtime for it. But to him it made perfect sense

The older man glared at Adrian through narrowed eyes, and then looked up at the wasted bare wall, his brow furrowing. "How long would it take you to build it?" he asked after a long pause

Adrian stared back at him, surprised he was even considering the despised and ostracized son-in-law's suggestion. "Two days or so, longer if I have to do it at home and bring it here in sections."

The older man stood there a moment longer looking thoughtful, tapping the side of his nose with a pencil. "All right, we'll go to the timber yard first thing in the morning and order what you need. Now take the other sack round to the cart. We'll take it with us to the house."

Half an hour later Adrian got to finish the last of the water in his flask, and they headed back to the Clearys' pretty white-washed house on the edge of town. Both men stopped to rinse off the sweat and dust of the day in the laundry, before heading into the main part of the home.

Adrian almost did a double-take when he saw Cassandra standing in the middle of the living-room wearing the ball gown she'd been working on for the past two weeks

She looked absolutely stunning as she slowly turned around in a circle, her arms outstretched, while her mother and sisters checked for flaws. Adrian couldn't see any. All he saw was the way the bodice of the gown showed just a hint of creamy cleavage, her slender fair arms beneath the chiffon sleeves, and her smiling face a vision to behold

Adrian licked suddenly dry lips. A shudder of desire rocked through his entire frame. So much for trying to ignore it! He was sure he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted Katrina, or any other woman for that matter, because none had ever affected him so potently.

Yep, that'd be right, he thought in self-disgust; he would have to fall for the one woman on earth he could never have

Every man would want to dance her off her feet in that dress, Adrian thought, as a new feeling clamped down on his longing, jealousy, because he'd be the only one not dancing with her

All he'd heard in this house was how happy the three daughters were to ride there together in the family carriage like they always had. Even the brothers were looking forward to it, their mother proud of how fine they looked in their smart new suits. Brady the Banker was bound to be there. All of the town's business people were attending since it was the annual fund-raiser

Adrian supposed he could gate-crash the event, but was certain he'd be marched straight back out again. Besides he doubted there was anything even remotely suitable to wear in the wardrobe that would fit him, let alone make him look respectable enough for such a fancy occasion. Being a product of the rock and roll generation, the only formal dance he'd ever learnt was the waltz, and he wasn't even sure he could remember that

On noticing Adrian staring at her, Cassandra stopped twirling, and blushed. "Better get out of this dress now," she murmured, hurrying from the room.

Her sisters, also wearing their new dresses hurried after her, but not before he saw the eldest wrinkle her nose in disdain at the sight of him. He knew he shouldn't care, but Adrian had always been a clean and tidy person despite his physical job. Now he felt as unkempt and grimy as everyone kept making him out to be.

Trying to shave with the old-fashioned fold-out razor had resulted in so many nicks and cuts he thought he might be scarred for life, but Adrian had persisted, knowing a beard had never suited him. He was pretty good at it now, but still missed his electric Philips triple action

As he took his place next to Cassandra at the end of the table, once more garbed in her faded work-dress, Adrian focused his attention on the food, which he had to admit was always wholesome and tasty. Mrs Cleary was an exceptionally good cook, and had taught her daughters well, because Cassandra could create just about anything on that ancient wood stove in his grandparents' kitchen

Between main course and dessert Mr Cleary usually nominated one of the young people to read out loud to their mother from the newspaper, since she had never learnt to read and write properly. As the older man glanced around the table, Cassandra said; "Adrian hadn't had a turn yet. Why not let him read tonight."

On hearing his name Adrian glanced up from his plate. He'd drifted off, thinking about his parents, wondering how his father was coping with his mother's disability and her depression on his own. Once again Adrian had found himself thinking he should be with them, not living the life of someone who'd long since left this world

"I thought you told me he couldn't read," Bella replied

'Well, now we shall find out," their father remarked, pushing the newspaper across the table so that it lay in front of Adrian.

Your attempt to humiliate me isn't going to work this time, Adrian thought with grim satisfaction, because all of them read haltingly and with difficulty, even Cassandra

Adrian picked it up. "Which section would madam be interested in tonight?" he asked, addressing Mrs Cleary directly, finally managing to catch her eye. For the first time she actually looked at him, and he smiled at her. It worked. He was rewarded by a blush that crept all the way down her neck. Well, I'll be dammed, Adrian thought. Laying on the charm does work. He'd never been one to put on an act like Mark, but saw it could have its uses

"Oh, um the social pages, if you please," she said, fanning herself with her hand

He should have known she'd go for that. It took him a moment to find the appropriate section. Luckily it wasn't very long, mostly about the upcoming Christmas charity ball they were all so excited about.

Adrian read out loud all the things citizens had been doing in its preparation, what prizes would be raffled, then upcoming weddings and finally the names of those who had passed away. Saddest of all was the death of a newborn. As Adrian read out the child's name, he heard a sniff from beside him.

He glanced up to see tears glistening in Cassandra's eyes as she gulped back a sob. Both her sisters turned to comfort her, and Adrian realized why she'd ended up married to his useless forefather in the first place. Brady had said as much in the pub, but Adrian must have forgotten that bit. Obviously she'd miscarried since she was still so slim. At least it explained why she hadn't married Brady, who'd clearly been her and her family's preference

So the lazy, good-for-nothing oaf had made her pregnant. Had he forced himself on her? Adrian wondered as he returned his attention to the paper in front of him. It would certainly explain why the whole family hated him so much.

He knew they were trying to give him a second chance, and somehow Adrian had to make things right. Somehow he had to ensure his great grandfather got born. But how? What was he meant to do to ensure he returned to his rightful place and time, and the world continued on as it should?

When he finished reading, Adrian lowered the paper and looked up. They were all staring at him in amazement, so he decided to take it one step further. "Is there anything else anyone would like me to read? I'd be happy to oblige. The financial review perhaps, the sporting section."

Mr Cleary snatched the paper from his hands. "No, that's enough for tonight. I for one am ready for sweets."

This was Mrs Cleary's cue, and she got up to collect the dirty dishes and to bring out dessert.

Everyone ate their trifle in silence. Their usual chatter was ominously absent, and Cassandra was ready to leave almost as soon as Adrian asked if she was ready. Discovering he could read had obviously put a damper on things, Adrian thought with a small satisfied smile

The night was muggy and hot, a sure sign of rain on the horizon. It had become habit for Cassandra to take up the reins and for Adrian to rest in the back of the cart, but tonight he remained on the seat beside her. He must be getting used to the grueling work and the unbearably long days, because he didn't feel quite as weary as he usually did. Oh he was tired all right, and would no doubt sleep like the proverbial log once he climbed into bed, but he sensed Cassandra's need to question him

A sudden screech, a gust of air, and the sound of flapping wings in front of their faces gave them both a start. Even Charlie shied, and Cassandra dropped the reins to grab hold of Adrian's arm.

As Adrian took hold of the strap, and Charlie resumed walking, Cassandra buried her face against his shoulder, her soft blonde curls ticking his neck

"It's all right. It was just a bat," he reassured her

"Oh, I hate those things," she murmured into his neck. The feel of her warm breath against his skin sent goose bumps of delight dancing across his skin.

"How did you get so strong, Adrian?" she asked suddenly, her head still against his shoulder, her fingers kneading his bicep

"Was I not so strong before?" Adrian asked, even though he already knew the answer

"No, you never liked hard work."

"Neither could I read, or so everyone believed."

"I've never heard anyone read so perfectly, almost like a scholar," she remarked in awe

"Mmm," Adrian murmured, turning his face to rub his cheek against her beautiful hair. The feel of her soft breasts against his arm made him ache to encircle her in both his arms, to tilt her head back and kiss her lips, which he knew would be as soft as the rest of her. Instead he asked; "Why do you suppose that is?"

She shifted and he felt her looking at him. "What do you mean?"

"You must be wondering why I'm so different. From what I understand, the Adrian you married was a beer-swilling, lazy womanizer. Aren't you wondering what happened to him?"

"No, I'm just glad he's gone," she asserted, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for someone to suddenly turn over a new leaf, no questions asked

"Aren't you worried he might come back?" Adrian was, because as soon as he returned to 2010, she'd be once again stuck with the beer-swilling, lazy womanizer

"Will he come back?" she asked close to his ear. Her warm breath ticked, making him shiver again

"Probably... Maybe... I don't know," And he didn't. For all he knew, Adrian could be stuck here permanently, and when he felt her soft warm lips graze his cheek, he didn't think he'd mind too much

"Do you really prefer all those other women to me? Tell me the truth, Adrian. Am I really so undesirable to you now?" she murmured against the side of his face

"Undesirable?" he gasped, jerking his head away from hers to stare down at her lovely face illuminated in the moonlight. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

"Then why do you sleep in the spare room every night, why go to those other women in the first place?"

"Because I'm not your husband, Cassandra." He hadn't wanted to blurt it out like that, but if he didn't get away from her right now, he would have her in his arms, right where he wanted her

"What on earth are you talking about?" She let go of his arm and slipped back into her corner of the seat, eyeing him warily.

Adrian wondered for a moment if he should tell her, because it seemed she was actually starting to like the man her husband had become. But Adrian wasn't sure he liked himself right now. He was lusting after another man's wife, for goodness sake, his great great grandmother at that! Something Mark would have no qualms about indulging in, but Adrian had always thought himself a better man than that. Obviously he was just as depraved as his bother if he was this incapable of controlling his hormones

"People don't change so much overnight that they suddenly know how to read and write," he told her after taking a deep breath. "Why do you suppose I walk around without a shirt half the time? Not because I'm a show-off, but because your husband was a shorter, slighter man than I and they barely do up. Haven't you noticed my trousers are too short?" He lifted a leg up onto the front bar of the cart so she could see the wide expanse of sock

"What are you trying to tell me, that you're his twin brother?" she asked, and he saw her shudder visibly

"If only it were that simple." Adrian heaved a sigh and returned his foot to the floor. He was really going to lay it on the line now, and hoped like hell he wasn't going to disappear in a puff of smoke at the end of it

"My name is Adrian O'Shea, but I was born in 1982. My parents are still alive. Their names are Susan and Ian. Even my grandparents still live in a retirement village on the Central Coast. They used to live in your home, but they sold it a few months ago. My brother and I used to go there during the school holidays with our cousins. We always had a great time. That's where I learnt about the gold rush and about my forefathers. You and Adrian were my great great grandparents

"Katrina was my fiance in 2010, the year I come from, but we broke up because she preferred my brother, Mark. I've never had an affair with Prue Thomson. She button-holed me out the front of her shop and asked me to come inside. She kissed me, not the other way round

"Yes I was drunk when I found myself in Sammy's pub. I'd gone to drown my sorrows over Katrina, my mother's poor health and the failing family business. How I ended up here in your time, I have no idea. Neither do I know what happened to your Adrian. All I can assume is that he's now in the future living my life, or that this is a completely different timeline to the one I was travelling on."

He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I arrived the day I got the fever, probably from the time slip, too much beer, too much worry, or all of the above. I walked through town the next day with no idea why I was there, why everyone seemed to know who I was. It was probably because my great great grandfather and I look so much alike that the fates sent me back here to sort out the mess he was making out of his, and your, lives..."

Heavy silence hung between them just like the humid air around them as Adrian wondered how she would react to his story. Putting voice to it made it sound insane, even to him. Watch me disappear into a puff of smoke now, he thought grimly. But nothing happened. Charlie continued to plod through the night, and Cassandra started to shake her head

"That has got to be the biggest load of baloney I've ever heard, Adrian O'Shea. I know you Irish can tell tall tales, but that just takes the cake. Great great grandfather indeed! A fiance from the future! If you can't bear the sight of me anymore then why not just say it instead of making something like that up? I want to leave you as much as you seem to want to rid yourself of me. So, you can turn the rig around right now and take me back to my family. I don't ever want to lay eyes on you again. You have got to be the most dreadful man in the world, Adrian O-"

Adrian silenced her with a kiss, turning her O into an Ohh.

He took her face between his hands, and pressed his lips to hers, brushing his tongue against them. She parted her lips almost instantly so he could slip his tongue inside, tasting the sweetness of her feminine nectar, drowning in her heavenly softness

He felt her hands flutter against his shirt, as though she wasn't sure whether to push him away or pull him close. Adrian caressed her soft cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His entire body trembled with desire for her, and when she slid her arms up and around his shoulders, he knew she wanted him as much as he ached for her

Without breaking the kiss, Adrian wove his fingers through her hair, drawing her up against him, where he felt the soft press of her breasts and the pebbling of her nipples against his chest. He sighed into her mouth, as he plundered her sweetness

A sudden jarring of the cart broke the kiss, but Adrian refused to let her go. He pressed his cheek to hers, gently licking her neck. It made her gasp and tremble in his arms. So he did it again, trailing his mouth to the soft hollow at her shoulder, nudging the demure neckline of her dress aside

He slid his hands down her back, pressing her against him. "Tell me I don't want you now," he murmured, his breathing ragged. "God, I could drown in you, melt into you and forget the whole damn world even exists."

"Adrian." She sighed his name as though it was the most beautiful word in existence. "You've never been like this before."

"You know the reason for that," he said, stroking her back, rocking her against him, breathing in her scent

"Don't talk. Just hold me."

"That's what I want too, to hold you and never let go."
Chapter Nine

This was what she had been hoping and longing for when Adrian first kissed her almost a year ago, this closeness and togetherness. He'd never held her in his arms like this, so gently, almost reverently. Neither had his previous kisses felt like the one he'd just bestowed on her. She was still reeling from the power of her reaction. Her entire body had come alive with sensation, not just from his kiss, but at the feel of his strong body against hers and his tender little licks and nips against her neck

Could she believe him when he told her that he wanted her so much he could drown in her? He'd never spoken like a poet before. She'd decided to test him over the book, because if it had come from him then he could read, and he'd proved her correct, meaning he also must have written those beautiful words.

She had to concur there were so many things that were different about him. His voice was softer, deeper, and he seemed to have lost his Irish brogue overnight. Of course she'd noticed he was stronger, taller, more handsome than ever. But she'd put it down to a late growth spurt, much more likely than his far-fetched tales of coming from the future

His patience with her family was phenomenal. Even though he never told her about his work in the shop, she suspected it was grueling and degrading, particularly for someone much more intelligent than she'd ever realized. God, if he could read like that, he should be running the shop. He had mended just about everything that was broken in their house. He'd even started painting it a nice shade of blue, a task that would take him an age since he could only do it on Sundays

If only he'd spend more time with her, talk to her, hold her like he was doing now, return to their bed, she would forgive him, and they could make a fresh start. Cassandra could quite easily come to love the man he had become

But he pulled away from her as they drove through the front gate of the O'Shea property.

Once again he became the distant man he'd been before that earth-shattering kiss. And when it was time to go to sleep, he headed towards the spare room like he always did

"Come back to our bed, Adrian," she urged, following him down the corridor

He didn't turn, but she could see the tension in his broad shoulders as his muscles bunched beneath his skin,, since he was going to sleep in nothing more than his breeches. It was so hot she almost wished she could do the same, but like always, she was wearing her demure long nightgown. Yes, his body was taller, stronger. That couldn't have happened overnight.

But for him to be a completely different man! And if he was, should she even be asking him to sleep beside her?

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Cassandra," he replied without turning around

And he always called her Cassandra, whereas before he'd been quite happy to shorten it to Cassie like the rest of her family. She had to admit she liked the way he said her name in his deep, husky voice

"But after that kiss tonight, I thought –"

He swung around to face her, his expression as tense as his shoulders. "That kiss was a mistake. It should never have happened."

"Because you're from the future and not my husband, I suppose," she said tersely

He nodded once, a muscle ticking under his jaw

She spread her hands in front of her. "All right, prove it to me. Prove you're from the future."

He sighed, and ran a weary hand through his already tousled red hair. "Does it have to be now?"

"Well, no..." she concurred

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then placing his hands on her shoulders he turned her around and marched her back into the living room, where several candles still stood flickering on the table

"Go on. Sit," he commanded, motioning to one of the easy chairs.

Cassandra complied. Adrian took the one opposite, and leant towards her, resting his elbows on his knees. "The first thing I can say about the future is that this room wasn't lit by candlelight when I came here as a child, but by electric lights suspended from the ceiling."

Cassandra cast her gaze up into the darkness.

"You can have a bath or a shower with hot and cold running water straight from a tap, not from a pump," Adrian continued, and she returned her gaze to him, taking in the way the candlelight danced across his handsome face and strong muscular body, casting a play of light and shadow across his smooth skin

"The device you and your sisters found is called a mobile phone, based on the telephone, but it also contains a camera that can take pictures instantly."

"What - what happened to it?" Cassandra felt compelled to ask, since she hadn't seen it since she'd handed it to her father

"It ran out of power. It runs off a battery and needs to be recharged every few days."

"So that's why it just stopped when we were looking at it?" she asked

Adrian nodded. "Although I'm surprised you worked out how to get the pictures up onto the screen. That was rather clever of you."

"You family were in it, your parents I believe."

"Yes, my mother and father. And one of my brother."

"The handsome man with the black hair?"

Adrian scowled. "That's the one."

"And Katrina was the beautiful woman?"

"Yes," he gritted out

"She was silly to run off with your brother. You're much more handsome than he is."

The sides of his mouth quirked into a small, tight smile. "I'm glad you think so. Most people would say the complete opposite."

"Their clothes seemed so strange," Cassandra remarked

"I suppose they would to someone who goes to bed covered from neck to toe," he motioned to her nightgown. "But people have grown much more practical about their attire. It isn't considered indecent for a woman to wear trousers or short pants."

"Women wear pants?" she gasped. "Now I know you're spinning yarns, Adrian O'Shea."

"No, I'm not," he insisted

"Yes you are. That device of yours almost had me convinced, but - "

"I have one more device from the future," Adrian interrupted. "And it hasn't run out of power yet. Be back in a moment."

He got up and left the room, returning less than a minute later, holding something in his hands that had dangling white cords with baubles attached to the ends. He stuck the baubles into his ears. "I'll just find something sedate for you. Not much of what I listen to is," He pressed his thumb against a small white object attached to the other end of the cords.

"This will do," he decided. "Let's see what you think of some classic U2. Here stick this in your ear." He handed her one of the baubles

"It's not going to hurt, is it?" she asked dubiously

"Only if I turn the volume up full blast," he grinned cheekily

What a sweet smile she thought, realizing how rarely she'd seen him happy about anything. He had white even teeth, something else she'd never noticed before

Cassandra held the bauble in her hand, conscious of it hissing slightly. "I don't know," she murmured

"Go on," Adrian urged. "You can then tell the whole world you were the first to listen to rock and roll, over a hundred years before it was even invented."

Frowning slightly, Cassandra stuck the white gadget into her ear, and heard strange noises emitting from it

"Here, take the other one." He handed it to her, and she tentatively inserted it into her other ear. She couldn't make out what the noises were at first, just sounds flowing repeatedly together. It wasn't until a male voice started to sing that she realized it was music, very strange music, with a steady thumping beat that reminded her a bit of an Aboriginal Corrobarie

Adrian was still holding onto the other end of the device, and he pressed his thumb against it, making the music in her ears grew louder, till it sounded like it was filling her entire head. It was the most eerie thing she'd ever experienced. Cassandra shook her head. She didn't like the way it blotted out other noises, like Adrian, who was obviously talking to her since his lips were moving

She snatched the baubles from her ears, and the cacophony in her head instantly ceased. "How on earth did it get in there?"

"It's a recording, made in a sound studio, and then mass produced so that everyone can listen to it, although now it's just as easy to download it from your computer."

His words didn't explain anything. In fact they made hardly any sense at all. But there was no way the Adrian she'd grown to dislike and distrust would use such long, complicated words.

"Download? Computer?" she echoed

He sighed tiredly. "Where do I begin? And should I be telling you any of this anyhow? I mean your knowledge of such things could change the future. Me being here could change the future."

"We all affect the future in one way or another," Cassandra declared

Adrian looked down at her as he slowly wound the two cords around his small square device. He was so tall and broad-shouldered, towering over her, larger than life somehow, so familiar and yet so different.

"Are all men of the future so big and well built?" she asked eventually

He smiled again, and sank back down into the easy chair he'd previously occupied. "We are taller. I know that much, but a lot of us are overweight from too much good food."

"What do you eat in the future? Is the food different?"

"I lived on microwave TV dinners for a while when I first moved out of home. Too much chocolate, ice cream and soft drinks is the norm, but what your mother's been feeding me beats all that hands down. I have to admit I like an old fashioned roast, eggs, meat, potato, all the good stuff."

"I don't know, Adrian. It all sounds so far-fetched, I can barely begin to understand it all, but these crazy devices of yours... And those amazing houses I saw with all the swimming pools and tropical trees around them..."

"I oversaw the building of those. That's why they were on my camera phone, a bit of a brag I have to admit."

"You built them?" Cassandra asked in awe

"Well not by myself, obviously, but I organized all the building equipment, the contractors. I'm a building manager or project engineer, you could say."

Cassandra clasped a hand to her mouth. "So you are a manager like Erik Brady."

Adrian had to smile. "Even better than that. A bank manager isn't considered anything important in the future."

"What about doctors?"

"Doctors are very important. They save lives. So many medical advances have been made in the past century. Some cancers can be cured, heart and lung transplants, tumors can safely be removed. It's incredible how far we've come."

"No!" Cassandra murmured in disbelief. "Next you'll be telling me that carts drive on steam like the locomotives they've started building the tracks for in Sydney."

"No, they drive on petrol. Didn't you see my brother's racy new Mazda?"

"That silver thing with the wheels?"

Adrian nodded. "That's a car. Just about everyone owns one. They clog up the roads, create massive traffic snarls, and so much pollution that we now have global warming."

"Global what?"

"We're heating up the earth with all the pollution from the coal-fired power stations, the lead in the petrol, aerosols and detergents."

"All right, stop it with all the big words," she protested

"They're common place where I come from."

"And where would that be?"

"Sydney."

"I've been to Sydney," she said

"You wouldn't recognize the Sydney I live in. They build a bridge across the harbor in 1932 and a tunnel under it during the 1990s. There are buildings thirty stories high. Oh, the old semi-detached houses still exist, but they are heritage listed now, like the Rocks."

"The dingy, dirty Rocks?"

"Not now. It's a tourist attraction, particularly for the Japanese. They love it."

"Oh Adrian," Cassandra sighed

"I know, way too much in one sitting, but it would take me hours to explain everything to you, and even then you probably wouldn't understand unless you saw it with your own eyes."

"I don't know if I want to. It sounds so big and busy somehow."

"You could say that. Sydney is home to over five million people."

Cassandra gaped at him

"It's expanded considerably, all the way to the blue mountains, up past Hornsby, down past Helensburgh."

She merely shook her head. "Five million people!"

"Twenty-three million in Australia, and we're still considered a small country."

"Did they all come for the gold?"

Adrian laughed, a deep throaty sound, something else she was certain she'd never heard him do. "That's what probably started it. There will be more found in Victoria near Ballarat soon."

"What did you say?" And then she realized he had to be telling the truth. If he was from one hundred and fifty years in the future, of course he would know where the gold was

"I said -"

"Are you going to go and dig for it?"

Adrian shrugged. "Well, I wasn't planning on it. I don't know how long I'll be here, or even why I was sent."

"To fix up your great grandfather's mess you said."

"There's another great in there," he reminded her

"I can't imagine you as my... great great grandson. I mean you're older than me... aren't you?"

"I'm twenty-eight."

"No," she gasped. "Adrian was only twenty-four, and you look even younger than that."

"Told you, better food, better life-style. We even live longer in the future."

"So... so if you're my great great grandson from the future, then where is my husband?"

Adrian shrugged. "Wish I could tell you that, so we can both get back to where we belong."

"You want to go back, don't you?" You miss your future life."

"I miss my parents. They need me. My mother's not well and my father can't do everything on his own."

"They still have your brother."

Adrian scowled. "He's never lifted a finger to help anyone. He just takes."

"He sounds like my husband. I wish you were him." And she meant it. She really did prefer this Adrian to the one she'd married. This Adrian respected her, but right now she didn't want his respect. She wanted him to kiss her again, to hold her against his strong hard body, to make love to her.

Cassandra was shocked at her thoughts, but there it was; she desired this man, this intelligent and handsome man who had come from the future to replace the one who had let her down too many times to count. Surely she could convince him to stay with her, to forget his life in the future

She reached out to touch his bare chest. His skin was satiny smooth, but packed hard with muscle underneath

He jerked away from her touch and jumped to his feet. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not your husband, Cassandra... I have an early start in the morning, and I'm really bushed."

He stalked past her out of the room, and she heard the door to the spare room close with a heavy thud

Cassandra buried her face in her hands, wondering what on earth she could do or say to convince him to stay and become her husband
Chapter Ten

Adrian leant against the door for a moment, heaving a great sigh. It had been harder than ever to walk away from her this time. The way she'd gazed up at him with those huge blue eyes so full of desire and longing had almost been his undoing. Part of him was flattered that she was so keen on him, very flattered, but the logical, rational part of him knew he had to keep his distance

There had been no safe birth control in the 1850s that he knew of. Heaven forbid if he slept with her and she ended up pregnant to him. He couldn't father his own great grandfather, could he? Hadn't he seen a movie about something like that once?

Yes, in the movies, never in real life, Adrian reminded himself. But who would have thought he'd end up travelling back in time to step into the shoes of his forefather. Adrian snorted derisively to himself. The shoes didn't fit either, like the clothes. Luckily his own boots still had plenty of life left in them

Adrian headed over to the bed and climbed into it. It was too warm even for a sheet, so he lay there, knowing sleep would be a long time coming

Try as he might to keep her out of his mind, Cassandra still managed to slip into his thoughts as he tried to make the pulsing ache in his groin go away by the rhythmic stroking of his own hand

He imagined her soft hot folds hugging him tight instead of his own fist. Her creamy beasts swung before him, and her soft golden curls caressed his skin as she leant over him, riding him with wild abandon

And then her beautiful image splintered into the night, leaving Adrian spent and exhausted, but in no way satisfied

All too soon morning arrived, and he woke feeling lethargic and out of sorts. Adrian crawled reluctantly out of bed when the rooster's crowing got on his nerves.

He considered asking Cassandra if she minded roast rooster for Christmas supper, but then he remembered she was planning on spending it with her family, just like she'd be accompanying them to the ball at the end of the week.

If he was still here in the past, he supposed he'd be spending the day alone, the first time in his life he wouldn't be with his parents and grandparents. He hoped he'd be back in the future by then, because the longer he remained in Cassandra's company, the more likely he was to lose control and do exactly what she'd wanted him to do last night

At least he now knew his great great grandfather hadn't forced himself on her. Perhaps he'd been an expert kisser or great in bed. She certainly liked the look of him, but then she'd never had the opportunity to ogle guys like Fabio or the Chippendales, whose muscle-bound bodies had women swooning all over the modern world

Adrian had a job to complete before Christmas, build the shelves for her father's store. He would have considered it a small project in 2010, but without power tools it was going to take a lot longer and involve a great deal of hard, physical labor

He was glad she didn't accompany him into town this morning, but she still got up to make his breakfast like she always did. No matter how many times he told her he could get it himself, and for her to stay in bed, she rose to the rooster's call and bustled about the kitchen in her long skirts and apron. She also made his lunch and saw him off with a wave from the verandah

With all the sawing and hammering Adrian had to do to construct the shelves, the heat became intolerable. He recalled reading somewhere that the industrial revolution had started global warming, and it certainly felt like it, as the hot spell lasted all the way into Saturday

Just as they were about to lock up, a thunderstorm struck. Adrian stood before his completed project, and considered waiting the storm out. The rain pounding on the iron roof was almost deafening in its intensity

The store now had so much empty space in the aisles, that one could comfortably carry things from one end to the other without having to risk knocking anything or anyone over. Whether or not this pleased the boss, Adrian was yet to hear. Mr Cleary hadn't uttered a single word about Adrian's new project, although he often stopped to watch him work, and he'd ordered his other two staff, Mick and Artie, to keep out of Adrian's way for the duration.

To Adrian's relief this also meant their nasty jibes and pranks had ceased. They had managed to avoid the storm, having left half an hour ago

Adrian turned to see Mr Cleary pick up both their lunch pails. "Time to go," he announced

"It's finished, by the way," Adrian said

"I can see that. Now come on."

"You go ahead. I'm in no hurry." He knew they would be eating at the ball, a huge buffet part of the deal, and Cassandra planned to stay with her family for the night. Adrian hoped there was still some food left at the homestead, because after the long ride home in the rain, he'd be ravenous. Lunch had been hours ago, and he was already hungry

"Well, I am. The girls will scream blue murder if we're late."

Adrian relented. Besides, the drenching rain would probably be a welcome relief after the cloying heat of the day

Mr Cleary locked up the shop and the two men set off through the downpour. The roads had turned into muddy rivers, and Adrian's dusty boots were soon caked with mud, but he welcomed the cold shower, and was soon soaking wet

"Stay here," Mr Cleary ordered once they arrived at the house and were standing under the back awning. "I'll get us some towels." He proceeded to undo the laces of his boots, and Adrian bent to do the same, only his were easy to pull off due to their modern elasticated sides

On hearing their voices, Mrs Cleary appeared at the door, wearing a tiered dark blue ball gown that took up the entire doorway. Her hair was parted all the way down the centre, and the sides pinned into elaborate curls and swirls. Adrian had never seen her wear jewelry before, but she must have hauled out her entire stash, because she had a ring on just about every finger, jangling bracelets around both wrists, ruby earrings, and a matching ruby necklace.

She held two towels out to them, ensuring she kept her swishing skirts away from their wet trousers

"Thank you," Adrian said, accepting one as he peeled off his sodden shirt. He wasn't taking his trousers off in front of her, so he preceded to towel-dry his dripping hair

Mr Cleary stepped inside, after removing his own sodden shirt. "Come along," he urged Adrian. "We shouldn't leave much of a trail of water now."

Adrian followed him into the house. He would have preferred to just go to the stable, hitch Charlie to the cart and head for home, but he supposed he should take one last look at Cassandra in her new dress

He was glad he did. He almost bowled her over as she hurried down the corridor towards him, carrying a bundle of dark clothes. She too had parted her hair down the centre and gathered up the sides to drape in swirling ringlets over her smooth bare shoulders

Those creamy breasts he'd fantasized about every night since his arrival rose in two perfect mounds above the lace trimmed edge of her bodice. She'd obviously applied some make-up, not that she really needed any, but her lips were redder and her eyes brighter

A delicate gold necklace set with a sparking blue stone encircled her slender neck, and a gold band wove through her hair, with a matching stone in the centre of her forehead that compliment her eyes. She looked so happy, nothing like the sad young woman he'd first come across three weeks ago in the dusty yard of his grandparents' home. Adrian knew he could take some of the credit for that. He'd brought her back into the fold of her beloved family, even if it meant he wasn't getting to see his

"You look absolutely radiant, Cassandra," he said softly, wondering why his throat seemed to have suddenly grown tight

"And you look like something the cat dragged in. Come, through here, and let's get you changed." She led him into a bedroom, hers no doubt. It was definitely a woman's room, with soft pink curtains and matching pink bedding

She laid the clothing across the bed, and Adrian noticed long black trousers, a white shirt and a coat or jacket. Several other items tumbled from her arms, socks, possibly a scarf, none of which he'd ever seen before

"Get those wet pants off," she ordered. "I hope this downpour ceases before it's time to leave."

"Well, turn around then," Adrian replied, as she held out the new trousers to him. "Where did you get those? They look expensive."

"I made them, and hopefully they'll fit better than what you have been wearing, since I added a few inches to them."

Adrian grinned as he turned around, wondering just how she'd managed to work out his measurements. He slipped off his wet jeans, and as he reached for the new pants, he saw her turn. "I said no peeking."

"I've seen your top half unclothed often enough," she replied blithely

But you haven't seen the effect you have on my lower half whenever you get within ten feet of me, he thought to himself, as he stepped into the new pants, still keeping his back to her. They had no zipper, obviously not invented yet, and did up with several concealed buttons. Adrian had to admit she'd done a wonderful job. They fitted perfectly

"Now the shirt," she said, and handed it to him

"What!" he gasped, holding it at arms-length. "Ruffles and lace."

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Only a little."

"What kind of event would I wear ruffles and lace to anyhow?" he asked dubiously

She turned fully to face him. "A formal one, of course, like the Christmas Ball."

"Oh," was all he could say as he regarded her smiling eyes

She placed her hands on her hips. "Did you honestly think we'd go without you?"

"Well..." Yes he had, and he was stunned by the effort she'd gone to to sew them both such fine attire

"Go on, put the shirt on. I can guarantee you won't look silly in it. And here's the waistcoat."

Adrian did as he was told, slipping on the soft cotton shirt, followed by the smart waistcoat. Both of them fitted him to a tee.

Since he had no idea how to tie a cravat, Cassandra did it for him. He felt her slender fingers brush against his chin several times as she wove the soft materiel over and under itself. Even this innocent action made his skin burn, and his body throb, but he kept himself still, and his expression immobile, no mean feat when he desperately longed to return her touch

"Now we just need to comb your hair and you'll be the handsomest man there," she declared, clapping her small hands together

Somehow Adrian doubted it. He felt like a penguin, black and white and awkward. But he said the words he knew she wanted to hear. "Thank you for all the effort you've gone into making this fine suit for me. I'm honored."

"We're not done yet. Here's the jacket." She picked up the last remaining item of clothing off the bed

"I'm going to boil to death in that," Adrian protested

"No you're not. The cool change just came through."

"All right," he relented, and shouldered on the jacket. The damn thing had tails, for goodness sake, making him feel even more uncomfortable

"Now shoes."

"Don't tell me you made me shoes as well?" he asked in astonishment

"No," she giggled. "But the shoemaker did. We couldn't find a store-made pair large enough for you great big feet."

Adrian snorted, and then gaped at the shiny pair of black dress shoes she held up, one in each hand... They were pointy.

"Look I know some punces gad about in that kind of get-up, but I think I might go and clean my boots. They're black, and will look just fine with a bit of polish." He turned towards the door

"Oh, no you don't." Cassandra barred his exit. "Are all future men as impossible as you?"

"No, only the sensible ones. Are you sure I'm not going to look like a complete prat in this get-up?" he asked

"You will look like the perfect gentleman, even if you aren't behaving like one at present."

He took the shoes from her, and sat down on the edge of the bed with them. "If they don't fit I will have to clean my boots though."

"They'll fit."

"How do you... Oh that morning I couldn't find my boots, and had to wear those too tight slippers all day because I couldn't get my feet into anything else, you took off with them, didn't you?"

She nodded knowingly.

Of course the shoes fitted just fine. They were a little stiff and tight as new footwear often was, but he couldn't use the excuse that they were too small to get out of wearing them

"Now just let me comb your hair, and you'll be ready."

"I can comb my own hair," he muttered, plucking the pretty pink comb she'd picked up from the dresser from her hand. Since it was still slightly damp, his unruly hair smoothed down neatly against his scalp for a change.

Adrian caught sight of himself in the mirror above the dresser, and thought he looked like a perfect contender for a fancy dress party. "I take it this was your room."

She nodded, and picked up a short lace trimmed cape that matched her dress. She'd obviously made them as a set. She tied the satin ribbon under her chin. Adrian vaguely recalled seeing pictures of 1850s fashion, and still found it amazing to be experiencing it all first hand

"And you'll be the belle of the ball," he murmured

Just then someone knocked on the door, and Cassandra's older sister stuck her head around it. "Are you two ready yet? We have to go... Don't you make a charming couple!" she remarked, glancing first at Cassandra and then at Adrian. "Well, you certainly scrub up nicely," she told him with the barest hint of a smile

Since this was the first time she'd ever bothered to address him, Adrian merely nodded. He wasn't going to forgive her for her rudeness as easily as that. She looked almost as lovely as Cassandra, in her red satin gown and matching short cape. The other sister crowded into the doorway, their wide tiered skirts meshing into one another. She too was an attractive girl with her blonde hair parted and curled about her ears

Cassandra shooed them from the doorway and followed them out of the room.

Once they reached the living-room, Adrian saw that Mr Cleary was wearing a black top hat. It elevated him considerably, making Arian realize why so many men must have worn them in the first place. His sons also entered the room, both donning identical ones. Mr Cleary then picked up a fourth one from the sideboard

Adrian shook his head and held up his hands palms out in front of him. "No way on this earth am I going to wear one of those."

"Oh, yes you are," Cassandra asserted, marching up to her father. With it in her hands she approached Adrian. She reached up, but Adrian ducked out of the way

"We don't have time for this nonsense," Mrs Cleary chastised. "Put the hat on Adrian, or we'll leave you behind."

Since Adrian had gone this far with the fancy dress, and really was intrigued about the dance, he let Cassandra slip the hat onto his head, where it sat awkwardly until he tapped it down.

Another perfect fit. He almost lost it though going through the doorway because he hadn't ducked

As they filed out of the house, the boys and Adrian each took hold of several umbrellas from a stand beside the door.

Adrian twirled his around, and began to sing to himself. "I'm singing in the rain, I'm singing in the rain. What a glorious feeling. I'm singing in the rain." He gave the umbrella another twirl

"Is that some quaint little Irish ditty you're singing there, Adrian O'Shea?" Mr Cleary queried

Adrian clamped a hand over his mouth. Oops, he thought. Gene Kelly hasn't even been born yet, and it's even longer before he sings that song

"Something like that," he murmured in reply, catching Cassandra's eye

"I liked it. Can you sing some more?" she asked him

"Can't remember much more than that," Adrian admitted

They piled into the coach, Mr Cleary and his youngest son took the front seat, leaving it to Adrian and Brian to see the ladies seated, no mean feat with their vast array of petticoats to sort out. There didn't appear to be any room left for Adrian and Brian, but they managed to squeeze themselves in amongst the crinoline, satin and lace

"I've lost my legs," Brian laughed as they set off. "Someone stole my legs." True enough, his black clad thighs had disappeared amongst his sisters' petticoats

Adrian shifted some more of Cassandra's gown over his own lap. "So have I," he added. "Who's stolen our legs?"

Cassandra thumped him in the arm with a gloved hand. "He does this every time."

Adrian just laughed.

Their mother raised a brow at them from her corner of the coach. "You are all to conduct yourselves with your best manners tonight. I don't want to hear one single bad word said about any of you, particularly you, Adrian. Keep away from the punch."

"Mrs Martin makes it," Cassandra told him with a mock shudder. "It's deadly."

They arrived at their destination a short time later. The ball was being held in the Town Hall, the only building large enough to host such an event. As Mr Cleary pulled the coach up out the front, two valets, or footmen Adrian supposed they were called in this day and age, came to help the ladies down and drive the coach and team away

Adrian saw other coaches approach, as well as people arriving on foot. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Cassandra had been right. Adrian would have felt out of place if he had worn his work shirt and jeans

Cassandra took Adrian's arm. He noticed that this was the way they would all walk into the building. No woman was entering unaccompanied. It suddenly made Adrian acutely conscious he knew absolutely nothing about 1850s etiquette

He leant towards Cassandra, and said quietly; "This might sound like a dumb question this late in the piece, but are there any special manners I need to know about."

Cassandra smiled. "Don't worry. You already have better manners than your great grandfather."

He decided not to correct her again for omitting one of the greats. "Yes, but I only ever learnt one formal dance, the waltz, and I'm not sure I can even remember that."

"Never mind, I won't talk you into embarrassing yourself on the dance floor." She patted his arm. "You'll do just fine. If in doubt, follow Father's lead."

Adrian wasn't reassured in the slightest as they entered the brightly decorated hall, after stopping at the cloak room to hang their hats and coats. Since it was still hot from the heat of the day inside the building he was glad to be rid of the hot new jacket.

Oil lamps and candles flickered in every conceivable corner, as well as a chandelier dangling from the ceiling. A huge natural pine tree had been decorated with baubles and glitter. Along one wall a row of tables had been set up with enough food comparable to a modern buffet. Chairs had been positioned around the periphery, and a full orchestra was playing classical music in one corner.

No rock and roll, funk or rap at this do, Adrian thought, planning on blending into the background as soon as was humanly possible. But the Cleary family were obviously well known in the community, as various guests came to mingle and make small-talk. Adrian nodded politely and said as little as possible, which had people eyeing him curiously. Obviously his great great grandfather, along with all his other faults, must also have had a big mouth

"I'm hungry, Adrian. Would you bring me something from the buffet table?" Cassandra asked after a while. Adrian could see numerous people had already gravitated in that direction, and was glad of the distraction. All this smiling and nodding politely was starting to grate on him

"Why don't you come with me?" he urged

She glanced across at her parents, who stood regarding them with stern expressions on their faces, almost as though they expected them to start acting like naughty children. "They don't want to let any of us out of their sight tonight," she lamented as they headed across the room together. "Particularly me after the scandal I caused at the last function we went to."

"Um, what function was that?" Adrian asked, picking up two plates

"The one that ended up with me having to marry your great grandfather," she muttered back

"Oh," Adrian remarked, not sure what he was meant to say to that, so he took the easy way out and asked her what she wanted to eat

She pointed out various titbits. It was basically food that was easy to eat one handed; tiny pies and little cakes, small portions of everything. Adrian carried them over to some empty chairs

"We really should return to my family," Cassandra said as she sat down

Adrian leant over her. "I honestly don't think you could cause the same scandal twice."

"I wouldn't, but you might." She motioned into the crowd, and Adrian saw Prue Thomson making a beeline straight for him.

She had on the most daring gown that Adrian had seen any woman wear tonight, cut so low on her shoulders he thought she might come out of it entirely with one wrong move. Her face was plastered with makeup, and she wore enough jewelry to fill a small treasure chest

"I can't believe they actually let you out tonight," she gushed, stopping in front of him. She ignored Cassandra completely

"Why wouldn't they?" Adrian asked with a raised brow

"Weeeell, after what happened at last year's bush dance..."

"Do you mind?" Cassandra interrupted, shooting to her feet. Still holding her plate of food, several small meat patties rolled off it and straight into Prue's cleavage. Adrian couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing

Prue gasped like a fish out of water, and Adrian turned his back on her, ushering Cassandra quickly away. Before he knew it, she was giggling too

'What a waste of perfectly good food," Brian remarked with a grin when they reached the other side of the room. Even though the older Clearys looked stern faced, Adrian was sure he wouldn't get a bad mark against his name for that one. He couldn't have done it better himself it he'd tried

"It was a classic, wasn't it?" he grinned at the youth

"I didn't do it on purpose," Cassandra said, still laughing. "But can you get me some more, Adrian? And a drink too, if you please?"

"Of course. Anyone else for a top up while I'm there?" he asked the others.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brady the Banker chatting to Cassandra's oldest sister. She appeared to be quite enthralled with whatever intricacies of ledger management he was regaling her with. After his run in with him in the pub, Adrian wasn't about to start having warm thoughts about the man.

As though sensing Adrian's eyes on him, the banker turned, and to Adrian's surprise gave him a small smile. It took him a moment to realize it was more wolfish than welcoming. Same to you bozo, Adrian thought turning away

As he made his way through the throng back to the buffet table, Prue Thomson give him a baleful glare. Adrian just grinned back, making her turn her back on him with a flounce. Seeing the rather awkward looking young man she was coming onto, Adrian thought that woman just can't help herself, making him glad he was now out of the picture

After refilling Cassandra's plate, he headed for the drinks table. He was about to ask for two lemonades, curious as to how the old style soft-drink would taste, when he felt a hand on his shoulder

"How about a toast to new family ralations?" Eric Brady said from beside him

Adrian just stared down at the shorter man

"Haven't you heard?" he sneered, holding up two punch glasses. "I have decided to ask Cassie's sister, Bella, to marry me, so I believe that will make us family, eh O'Shea."

"Does Mr Cleary know about this?" Adrian asked as Erik held one of the glasses out to him

"Not yet, but I will discuss the matter with him later tonight. I think he'll be most pleased. So, shall we share a drink... brother?"

The way he said the word brother made Adrian want to deck him one, but when Erik took a swig of his drink, Adrian decided he might as well go along with the pretence.

He accepted the glass. As soon as he took a sip, he wished he hadn't. No wonder he'd been warned about its contents; it tasted as though it contained ninety-nine percent Gin

"Just slug it back," Erik suggested. "It's the only way to down the stuff."

Adrian shook his head. "Think I might give it a miss."

"I know you've decided to go clean, but one little drink isn't going to hurt you."

Since I was never an alcoholic I'm sure it won't, Adrian thought, but this stuff just might

"Or is it the idea of having me as a brother-in-law that's so unpalatable?" Eric continued drolly

Yes, that too, Adrian thought. Perhaps a little Dutch courage might help him get through the rest of the night, so against his better judgment, he swigged the rest of the brew down. It scorched a burning trail of fire down his throat, and he gulped down Cassandra's lemonade, which helped ease the pain a little. "There should be a law against this stuff," he choked out

"Oh dear," Erik commiserated. "Who would have thought Adrian O'Shea, the best drinker in town couldn't handle a little punch."

"You'd better watch it Brady, or I might just punch you," Adrian replied, handing Cassandra's glass back to the waiter. "Better give me another for the lady."

His throat was still burning as he made his way back to Cassandra, and he did feel a little tipsy, but it was the hard knot of pain suddenly tying itself around his stomach that bothered him more than anything
Chapter Eleven

To her surprise Cassandra was asked to dance almost every dance, mostly from her brothers' and father. Even Erik gave her a twirl around the floor for old times sake, but it was the waltz she was waiting for, so she could dance with her handsome husband. He looked so dashing in his new clothes, so tall and lean, with the twinkling lights reflecting off his red-gold hair, but when the band announced it, Adrian was nowhere to be found

"Does anyone know where Adrian is?" she asked Brian, who had recently returned from dancing with a pretty girl Cassandra had never seen before, meaning her parents had probably come to prospect for gold. Not many of the new-comers had been invited to the ball, simply because they would never have all fitted into the hall, so they must be involved in more than prospecting, perhaps seeking to set up a business in the area

Her brother shook his head. "I'll go look for him if you like."

"Thank you," she replied, knowing if Adrian didn't appear soon, she'd miss this dance with him altogether. As the band began to play, Cassandra became conscious of fidgeting with her fan, and tried to keep her fingers still

"I knew I should have kept a better eye on him," Father muttered from beside her

"I'm sure he hasn't gotten himself into any trouble, not now that he knows how much he has at stake," Mother said

"Even that isn't enough for some people. I just hope he doesn't cause us any more grief, not now that we appear to have Erik Brady back on our side."

"Oh," Cassandra raised her brows. "So he's decided to show an interest in Bella, has he?" She'd seen the two of them chatting amiably over supper, and they had shared almost every dance. Cassandra was about to say something else when she saw Brian rushing towards her. She would have been glad to see him if it wasn't for the dreadful look on his face.

He grabbed hold of her arm. "Quick Cassie, come with me. There's something wrong with Adrian."

"What?" Cassandra demanded as she let him drag her across the floor, both parents following in her wake

"He's outside in the rain throwing up. He looks awful," her brother admitted

"I should have known," Father muttered crossly

Cassandra rounded on him, ready with her retaliation, but Brian tugged hard on her arm, and she knew Adrian's wellbeing was more important than her father's doubt and mistrust

Once they stepped out of a side door, she noticed a light drizzle had began to fall. They stood under an awning, but Adrian sat hunched against a pillar, half in the rain

Cassandra hurried to his side and knelt down beside him, placing a gentle hand against his broad shoulder, trying to keep back from the splattering rain. He lifted his damp head, and she could see that he had indeed been throwing up onto the ground between his knees. But it was the look on his face that terrified her. He was as pale as a ghost, his mouth pinched with pain, and his eyes glassy with sickness

"I think I've been poisoned, Cass – " Adrian couldn't finish the sentence as he clasped both his hands to his middle, his face contorting as he retched again

Cassandra stared at him in horror. "Poison!" she gasped.

She turned to see her family behind her, along with several other guests who had obviously followed to see what the commotion was about. "He says he's been poisoned. We need to get him to the hospital."

"Don't be daft girl," Erik snorted as he joined the group. "He's only had too much to drink as usual."

"If Adrian says he's been poisoned then I believe him. Someone get our carriage, for goodness sake," she yelled, as Adrian leaned weakly into her. She shifted so that he could rest his head in her lap. She smoothed his damp hair back from his brow, which she noticed was burning hot

"Go on Brian," Father said at last. "Get them to bring it round here. I doubt he'll be sober enough to stand, let alone walk."

Cassandra could have screamed. Couldn't they see the pain and sickness in his eyes?

"We'll have you in the hospital in no time," she reassured the shivering man in her lap

"No we're not. He's going home to bed to sleep it off," Father commanded

"And he might be dead in the morning," Cassandra cried, tears welling in her eyes. "For once in your life listen to what I want, Father. Please take him to the hospital!" she pleaded

Adrian moaned weakly, his trembling hands twisting into the folds of her skirt

"All right, we'll take him to the hospital," Father relented

"I don't know what makes you think he's changed," Erik sneered. "Once a drunkard, always a drunkard, my father used to say."

"You know what, Erik, I'm glad I never married you," Cassandra snapped at him

"And I'm glad I never married you if you prefer spreading your legs for worthless scum like that." He kicked Adrian in one strong thigh, making him moan again, as he snuggled even further into Cassandra's lap

Suddenly Erik stumbled backwards, clasping both his hands over his face. To Cassandra's amazement, she saw her father withdraw a clenched fist

James whooped as Erik collapsed back onto the wooden floorboards behind him, blood oozing out between his fingers

"And there goes my future engagement," Bella lamented

"If he insults our family like that, then he doesn't deserve you, Bella," Father said, rubbing the back of his hand with the palm of the other

"I thould call the constable foh athaulting my pethon," Erik spluttered, trying to get back onto his feet.

None of the other guests turned to help him. They just stood gaping as another scandal involving the Cleary family unfolded before their eyes

Cassandra heard the sound of hooves and the jangle of bits, and looked up to see their carriage pulling up alongside the verandah

It took the combined efforts of her father and both her brothers to get Adrian into the coach. There just seemed to be so much of him, long arms and legs that didn't seem to go where they wanted

Then Cassandra and Bella got in on either side of him. The poor man couldn't even sit on his own, and Cassandra wondered if he was even conscious anymore, because his only responses to their words were low moans of pain that tore at her heart. At least he was no longer throwing up, but if he really had been poisoned, he could very well die. That thought made her clasp his cold hand more tightly in her own as he leant against her

"Don't die," she whispered against his soft damp curls. "Please don't die."

Then they were off. It didn't take them long to reach their destination since her father soon urged the horses into a quick trot and the hospital was just down the road

"It would make life a lot easier if I can get them to bring out a stretcher," Father said, as he jumped down from the front seat once they had reached the hospital

Cassandra, still cradling Adrian's head against her chest, nodded glumly. She was getting more worried by the moment. For all she knew he might even have died in her arms he had become so silent and still

It felt like an age before her father returned. "Nearly everyone is at the ball, so they're short on staff, but the nurse is going for Matron and the duty doctor right now," he told them

Just then, an orderly pushed a wheeled stretcher through the doors. A nurse hurried out behind him and opened an umbrella. It had begun to drizzle again

"Please hurry," Cassandra called out to her. "I'm so afraid the poison is going to kill him."

The young woman in white turned to the coach, and gave a short nod before hurrying down the street at a brisk trot, but to Cassandra it still wasn't fast enough

"All right, let's get the patient onto the stretcher then," the orderly said, sounding more put out by the fact that he'd drawn the short straw to remain on duty while all his colleagues were at the ball. He was a tall young man Cassandra had never seen before, with a sharply angled face and a shock of carrot-colored hair

Once again it required all the Cleary males to get Adrian onto the stretcher, and then push it up the stairs and through the door. Cassandra walked by his side as the orderly wheeled the stretcher down a dim corridor into a white examination room lit by several kerosene lanterns. She saw medical equipment and shelves of dark tomes, a desk and two chairs

"You can wait in the waiting room while Nurse fetches Doctor Brown," the orderly said as they all crowded in behind him

"Oh, I am glad Doctor Brown is on duty tonight," Mrs Cleary said. He was officious and totally lacking in any kind of bedside manner, but brilliant in his field, so Cassandra supposed if anyone could save Adrian it would be him. She had been terrified of him as a child when she and her sisters had been brought in for various childhood ailments and injuries. He was well past his prime, but still rushed about like a man half his age

"I also need to fetch someone else to get the patient out of his wet clothes and into a dry hospital gown," the orderly continued as though Mother hadn't even spoken. "He looks too heavy for me to do it on my own."

"I can help you," Cassandra suggested

The young man eyed her up and down. "A pocket-sized little Miss like you! I doubt it. Besides, he's our responsibility now. So, please go to the waiting area, or if you prefer, your homes."

"But I want to stay with him," Cassandra persisted, despite his officious manner. Had he been taking rudeness lessons off Doctor Brown?

"You'll just get in the way. Maybe later, after the Doctor has examined him."

Father took hold of her arm. "Come with us Cassie. I'm sure he's in good hands now."

Cassandra cast another look at Adrian lying there so still and silent. Finally she turned and went with her father

"That young man is elevating himself way above his station," Mother muttered as they all walked down the corridor

"I think he's probably more nervous about having been left virtually in charge while everyone else is at the ball," Clara remarked.

'Quite possibly, but there was no need to herd us around like that," Mother went on

They arrived at the waiting area and everyone found a seat.

After a few minutes Cassandra said; "You don't all have to stay here with me. If you prefer to return to the ball, or go home – "

"I'm certain Brady would have spread the word by now how he got his bleeding nose, and I for one have no desire to explain to anyone why I was forced to give it to him, not tonight anyhow. The questions will come thick and fast soon enough," Father replied tersely

"Thank you for standing up for me, and for believing me about Adrian. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance before now," Cassandra murmured, not daring to meet his eyes

"I'm not entirely certain I believe you about Adrian, but I'm sure the doctor will let us know what ails him. After all the good work he's put in at the store, I want to believe he's turned over a new leaf, but –"

"Oh, he has, believe me," Cassandra asserted. He isn't even the same man any more. But she didn't add that. Since no one else had been able to tell the difference, it would remain her and Adrian's secret

"I know you like to think so, dear, and for your sake I hope you're right," Mother placated, placing a comforting arm about Cassandra's shoulders

"Do you think Mr Brady is really going to report you to the constable?" Brian asked

"For a bleeding nose?" Father snorted. "I certainly hope not."

"And we were just starting to get on so well," Bella lamented

"If he's capable of saying such derogatory things about your sister, a woman he once thought to marry, and to kick a man while he's down, then I don't want him a part of this family. I already have one dubious son–in-law, and don't care for another."

"Father!" Cassandra cried

"Well, he'd been a right royal pain in the neck until a few weeks ago. And if he has been poisoned, who would want to do him in, may I ask? He must still have enemies out there none of us even know about."

Cassandra shuddered. The thought gave her goose-bumps. Her father did have a point though, and she knew she could never explain the real reason for Adrian's about-face. Her father would never believe he was from the future, particularly when she'd had so much trouble accepting it herself. And not knowing if he was going to remain here in the past, or if the other Adrian would ever return, it was in her best interests to keep quiet about it, at least for now

A commotion at the door had them all turning their heads, and Cassandra saw Doctor Brown and the nurse stride into the corridor carrying dripping umbrellas

"Thank goodness," Cassandra murmured in relief

Neither of them glanced in the waiting area's direction, but headed straight for the examination room

"He's in good hands now," Mother said, squeezing Cassandra's shoulder

Cassandra nodded. Time seemed to stand still as they waited. Occasionally a conversation broke out amongst them, or one of her brothers tried to make a joke, but in the end they settled into a tense silence as they waited for news from the room down the hall

It felt like an eternity before Doctor Brown emerged and made his way towards them. The entire Cleary family got to their feet, the scarping of chairs and shoes on floorboards suddenly deafening after the long silence

Doctor Brown cleared his throat

"Well, was it the drink or not?" Father immediately demanded

"It was in the drink, yes," Doctor Brown replied

"I told him not to drink it, didn't I?" Father asserted

"I've been known to say that woman's punch could knock a man flat," the good doctor continued. "Wish I hadn't now, because it very effectively disguised the poison the young man drank."

"Oh my God," Cassandra moaned

"I will need to call the constable. A case of poisoning is a matter for the police," Doctor Brown added

"But is Adrian going to be all right? Will he pull through?" Cassandra demanded

The doctor turned his attention to her, his expression maddening impassive. "That I cannot tell you, miss. I've done all I can. The rest is up to him. He was given an extremely large dose, judging by the effects it's had on him."

Cassandra felt weak at the knees, and her vision blurred with fear and dread

"What poison was it? Do you know? Father asked

"His symptoms seem to indicate Arsenic, but until a proper lab analysis can be done I can't be entirely sure. The constable will want to talk to all of you, and no doubt everyone that attended the ball. I think it's going to be a long night for everybody."

"But we don't know anything," Mother protested

"You know the young man. You must have some idea as to who might want to do him in."

"The only one who would know that is himself and the person who put the poison in his drink," Father asserted

"I still suggest you don't go anywhere until the constable has had a chance to talk with you because if he doesn't pull thorough it will be a case of murder."

Cassandra could have screamed at that point. She stepped right up to Doctor Brown and said; "Do you always have to be so cold and callous? That's my husband you're talking about, and now I want to see him."

"You can see him once he's on the ward, but only for a few minutes. They're getting a bed ready for him now. I'm not cold and callous. I'm merely stating the facts. I'm as concerned about the situation as the next person, but I can't provide false hopes and platitudes. If he's as strong as he looks, he might pull through. There will be some internal scarring and it will take him a while to recover from it. That's the only hope I can give you. Now it you'll all excuse me, I have my rounds to do."

With that he left them standing there. Cassandra couldn't take it anymore. The tears welled in her eyes, and she started to cry, great heartfelt sobs of despair. Mother gathered her into her embrace, so that she could cry her heart out

She only dried her eyes when Mother told her that the police had arrived. Accepting a hanky from her Father, she turned to face them.

There were two of them, a young man with a friendly round face, and an older, more stern-faced individual with a thick black moustache. Cassandra, never having had a run in with the law before, had only ever seen them from a distance as they made their patrols around the district

"I'll have you know that we've already dispatched several officers to the Town Hall to interview all the guests," the older man said. "I'm Constable Everton and this is Constable Osborne."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Father said, shaking their hands in turn. "I'm Mathew Cleary." He introduced the other members of his family. "I run the hardware store in town, and the last time I dealt with the constabulary was when Officer Burton was still in the job. Someone was stealing from my store. Not only did he apprehend the thief, he also managed to get back my stolen gods. I hope he's enjoying his retirements."

That seemed to lighten Everton's expression somewhat. "I envy him. He's now living right on the beach at Bondi in Sydney."

"That's good to hear. Wish I were that close to retirement, but with two boys to raise and two more girls to find suitable husbands for, it will be a long time yet. Anyhow, I suppose you'll be wanting to get down to business. We'll do whatever we can to help, since my eldest daughter here is beside herself with worry. It's her husband that was poisoned, you see."

"Yes, that's what the good doctor told us. I have his report right here."

Cassandra noticed him holding a folder and note pad into which he was making notations with a pencil.

"Yes, we've had dealings with Adrian O'Shea before," the constable continued, his tone suddenly disapproving. "You really shouldn't have squared his debts for him, Mr Cleary. We were about to arrest those two loan sharks for gold prospecting without a license. Now they've taken off and we can't get a tail on them... Anyhow, why did you do that, Mr Cleary?"

"Isn't anything in this town private anymore?" Father grumbled

"Not where it concerns people like Adrian O'Shea it seems."

"What has this got to do with what happened to him tonight?" Cassandra broke in

"We're following all lines of inquiry, and the Thomas Brothers threatened your husband before –"

"Look, I just want to go to him," Cassandra pleaded. "You answer his questions, Father. You'll know where to find me should he want to question me himself."

Before anyone could stop her, she was on her way down the corridor towards the wards. She found a nurse at a desk illuminated by two oil lamps so she could do her paperwork. Cassandra marched up to it and asked her what ward Adrian had been placed on. She'd obviously startled her, because the nurse dropped her quill, smearing ink across the page she'd been working on. But instead of letting her annoyance show, she planted a polite smile on her face

"I'll take you to him, but you can only stay a few minutes. Its way past visiting hours and he's a very sick man," the nurse explained

"Yes, I know that, which is why I want to see him." Everyone was talking as though he would be dead by morning, and if that happened, Cassandra wanted to be with him.

The nurse picked up one of the lanterns and Cassandra followed her along another dimly lit corridor, past a ward full of beds, most unoccupied, until they reached a small room

"We thought it best to give him a room to himself considering his condition," the nurse explained.

I understand perfectly, Cassandra thought cynically, it's in case he dies during the night, and it upsets the other patients

The nurse handed Cassandra the lantern. "You can bring it back to me on your return."

"Thank you," Cassandra murmured and entered the dark room. Holding up the lantern, she saw the bed and the figure underneath the white sheets. She spotted a shelf and placed the lamp on it.

Then she pulled a chair which had been left under the window towards the bed and sat down beside the immobile man. She laid her hand over his. It felt cold and clammy, almost confirming her fear that he was already dead, but then she saw his chest moving, she sighed in relief

"You didn't come all this way into the past to die," she said softly close to his ear. There was no indication that he'd heard her. He remained as still and silent as when she'd walked into the room. "You have to live, fulfill whatever destiny sent you here in the first place. Please Adrian. Please don't leave me."

She squeezed his cold fingers, tears blurring her vision. "I love you. I know I shouldn't, but I do. So please get better... for me."

Laying her head down against his strong, long fingered hand, she let the tears trickle down her cheeks and onto the sheet.

"Please get better," she pleaded again
Chapter Twelve

Adrian was dreaming about one of the many times he, his brother, and their cousins had taken the old drawing down to the creek to try and find the spot depicted in the picture. Of course they all knew the passage of time would have changed the landscape. The trees would have grown, erosion would have shifted the riverbank, but it was where Edmonds had discovered the second gold site, and the boys were ever hopeful that they might still find some. The fact that it was so close to their grandparents' home, no more than half an hour on their pushbikes, had spurred them on time and time again

They had left their bikes behind some bushes beside the road and hiked into the bush, carrying picks, shovels and pans in their backpacks along with drinks and snacks. They had stopped at various sites to examine the faded old picture, comparing it to the riverbank before them.

A few times they thought they'd been close, and had started panning, occasionally finding small specks of gold, but nothing worth crying Eureka about.

By the time they were due to finish high school, the youths had given up on the silly game, but the picture seemed to have branded itself into Adrian's subconscious, because he saw it clear as day; the three gums almost in a row along the opposite bank, and the rotting log lying across the creek

He supposed it made sense that it should all come back to him now after the endless dream he seemed to be having about the past. Fancy dreaming about going to a ball in 1851, riding on a horse drawn carriage, and kissing his great great grandmother!

As Adrian slowly returned to consciousness, he thought how convenient it would be to still be in the past, because he knew Edmonds hadn't discovered the second gold site for a good six months after Sofala. Adrian could easily find the spot knowing it would look exactly like the drawing

But I'm not in the past, he thought. That was just a dream, wasn't it? Then why the heck does everything ache? He tried to swallow and it felt like razor blades slicing through his larynx

He struggled to open his eyes, but they felt as though they had been glued shut. He saw everything through a filmy haze of light and dark. Adrian tried to lift his right hand, but it felt like it had been wedged under a pile of lead

As his vision cleared, he saw why.

Cassandra had fallen asleep sitting on a chair beside his bed, her soft, warm cheek resting against the back of his hand. Adrian tried to speak, but only a guttural croak emerged. It made him cough, and the agony of it sent him spiraling back into oblivion

And so he slept some more, certain this too had been a dream, because Cassandra was part of the past

Voices talking nearby drew him back into wakefulness some time later, how long Adrian had no idea. He felt strange, so weak, and disoriented, and his throat stung when he tried to swallow. It wasn't quite as painful as last time, but Adrian decided it best to just lie there and listen to the voices for the time being

"So ye finally managed to get 'er to go home," a woman said. She sounded young, and had a strong Scottish brogue

"Aye, knowing what I know about the rogue, I'd say her affections are totally misplaced." This young woman sounded Irish. They both had such cute accents, Adrian could have listened to them talk all day

"Ohh, do tell me more?" cooed the Scottish lass

"Put it this way, I'm not the least surprised someone sought to do 'im in," said Miss Irish

"Will he make it? It seems such a shame, since he's so fine on the eyes an' all."

Adrian blinked, his vision blurred, but he managed to make out two figures dressed predominantly in white bent over a cupboard on the other side of the room

"I know. It's been the talk of the town. Everyone was most put out that the ball was ruined on account of him. I mean everyone knows what kind of a reputation he has, so why treat it like –"

"I think he's awake."

Adrian saw them both turn around, and he could have sworn from the blush that crept over both their faces, that they had been talking about him

They both approached the bed he was lying on, but one of them motioned to the other. "Go get Doctor Brown. Quickly now."

The remaining woman came to his side, and as Adrian's vision cleared, he saw that she was wearing a long white dress, and a small starched cap to match. She had to be Miss Irish, since she had curly red hair and a cute freckled nose

So, I am still in the past, he realized, since she and everything else in the room looked old fashioned

"H- how are you feeling?" she asked tentatively

He was about to say, as though someone fed me acid, but all that emerged was a hoarse croak of pain

"Not too good eh?" she noted. "But at least you're alive. Your wife will be most pleased since she's barely left your side these past few days."

Adrian could tell from her tone that she didn't seem to care whether he lived or died. Then he remembered the dreadful punch he'd drunk, and how ill it had made him feel. Had someone really tried to do him in? Adrian vaguely recalled thinking the same thing as he retched like a dog in the pouring rain

Rage boiled through him, but it only made Adrian conscious of how much everything hurt, particularly his burning throat

"Ah, here is Nurse McNamara with Doctor Brown now," she remarked

The Doctor reminded Adrian of Cassandra's father, stern and grim faced, but considerably older

"So, you've pulled through, I see. Thought you might. You're obviously a strong young man. But I must warn you, your convalescence is going to be quite lengthy. You were given quite a hefty dose of Arsenic."

Adrian tried to speak, but once again, all he managed to get out was a croak. It was frustrating to the extreme

"It might be a while before you get your voice back," the doctor continued, "So it would be best if you took it easy for a while."

Take it easy? Take it easy! Adrian wanted to shout. How can I take it easy when someone has just tried to bump me off?

"Seems we can't even get the constable in to question you since you're still unable to talk," the Doctor went on

Adrian lifted both his arms, no mean feat when they felt as heavy as lead, but he managed to make the motion of writing on paper

"You can write?" the Doctor asked in surprise

Of course I can bloody well write, but once again all he managed was a couple of angry grunts which made his throat burn like the blazers. I'm starting to sound like the Neanderthal they all think I am

"All right, calm down. You don't want to overtax yourself," the Doctor placated. "We'll leave it till tomorrow to tell the constable you're awake. In the meantime I might get Nurse O'Malley here to get you something soothing to drink. It will also help with the healing. I brewed it up myself. It contains a strong dose of menthol."

As long as it doesn't contain a strong dose of Arsenic, Adrian thought crossly as the Quack and his two Nurse Nightingales left the room. Who would have thought travelling into the past could be so bad for your health?

Miss Irish brought him the drink a few minutes later, but it took the combined effort of her and Miss Scottish to get him propped up on enough pillows to down the stuff. Adrian couldn't believe how weak and helpless he'd become, not something that had ever plagued him his entire life, and he didn't like it one little bit

He frowned as Miss Irish held the glass to his lips. This had better not taste as bad as it smells. To his surprise it flowed down smoothly, and the effect was virtually instantaneous. It doused the raging fire in his throat almost completely. Adrian tried to take the glass from her, not liking the idea of being fed like a baby, but she easily pushed his trembling hands away

"You'll spill it," she admonished

"No I won't," he managed to get out

"You might feel better from the doctor's brew, but try not to talk anyhow. You're much more pleasant when you're silent."

Adrian couldn't keep silent, and she knew it. "I'll show you pleasant," he rasped, managing to grasp hold of her other wrist. He pulled her nearer, and could tell she was worried he might try to kiss her. But then he abruptly let her go, and she did spill the drink, mostly on herself, right down the front of her pristine uniform

"Oh you are a devil, you are," she cried, trying to wipe herself down

"So everyone keeps saying," he muttered.

Back home he was just an unassuming building contractor, but here he seemed to have managed to piss off just about every member of the community. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever return to his own life, and the thought saddened him beyond measure, because he was heartily fed up with being threatened, insulted and poisoned

So it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise when another attempt was made on his life some time during the night.

Adrian had been dozing on and off, when he became aware of someone in his room. Even though the individual didn't make a sound, Adrian could sense the presence of another person. At first he thought it was one of the nurses doing her rounds, but they always brought a candle or a lantern. This person was also dressed in black. The medical staff always wore white

The individual was holding something it its hands. It wasn't until everything went from dim to total blackness, and he found he couldn't breathe, that Adrian realized it was a pillow, and it had been shoved over his face

Adrian immediately tried to force it away, but the person held it firmly in place, making him realize it was probably a man, and a very strong one at that.

The kick of adrenaline that shot through his system had him turning his head to one side so he could yell into the night. The effects of Doctor Brown's special brew were wearing off, and he was certain no one would have heard his feeble cries. It also made his assassin force the pillow back over his face

Adrian managed to turn his face the other way and push against the arms pressing it down, but it was agony in the first degree. Every muscle in his body ached, and his throat burned from the effort to make an audible sound

The assassin must have sensed this, because he just kept repositioning the pillow, knowing that Adrian would eventually tire and give up the fight. Adrian didn't, not for a long time; his very life depended on it. I can't die here in the past, he thought as fear began to replace the adrenaline. Surely it isn't meant to end like this

Suddenly Adrian could breathe again, and he rasped in great agonizing gasps of air as blinding light burst into the room. Adrian saw the black clad killer push past Nurse Irish, almost knocking her against the bench behind her. All of the medical equipment on it rattled loudly, and the lantern in her hand tipped dangerously, threatening to drip kerosene onto the floorboards

"After him," Adrian managed to croak, before collapsing back against the pillows, his entire body screaming in agony

"Someone help!" the nurse cried, setting the lantern down on the floor. She hurried from the room, rousing other staff members to chase the assassin. Adrian heard several sets of running footsteps, before Nurse Irish returned to his bedside

She stood there for a moment staring down at him, a deep frown marring her smooth young brow

"I hurt," Adrian managed. "Please help."

Even though she obviously couldn't stand a bar of him, a sliver of sympathy slid across her face. "Might see if Doctor Brown has any of his menthol brew left. And something to help you sleep."

Adrian nodded, wondering if he could ever sleep again after what had just happened to him, particularly when he was told the assailant had managed to elude his pursuers

The tide of relief that flowed through Cassandra on seeing Adrian awake and talking to Constable Everton felt like a gust of warmth from a blacksmith's shop on a chilly winter's morning. They had moved her husband into the main ward, another good sign, but when she overheard them talking about another attempt on Adrian's life during the night, a new chill of fear gripped her in its icy clasp

She hurried to his side and kissed his fine lips, his lean cheeks, and his high forehead several times until a loud 'ahem' from the police officer compelled Adrian to hold her at arm's length from him

"Now that certainly was worth staying alive for," Adrian remarked with a smile, but his voice sounded husky and strained. "But please find a chair and sit down. The constable has a lot of work to do, and we'll talk more once he's finished."

Cassandra nodded, feeling rather embarrassed by her behavior, but she was simply so happy he'd pulled through she could have danced up and down the ward

Placing the newspaper she'd been carrying onto the end of his bed, she went to fetch a chair from the far wall. She pulled it up to the other side of Adrian's bed, where she sat and listened as Adrian told the constable all he could remember about the previous night's attack.

He had to stop often to take sips of water, and to his credit Officer Everton tried to ask questions that only required a yes or no answer. He was clearly disappointed that Adrian had been unable to get a good look at his attacker, other than to say he was quite strong and lean, and probably fairly tall. It had been very dark in that other room and he'd been fighting for his life

Everton continued to take notes, and after a while asked Adrian about the night of the ball. He didn't appear at all surprised when Adrian told him that Erik had handed him the glass of punch containing the poison. Cassandra had heard that several people had seen Erik holding two glasses from some of Mother's acquaintances who had come calling to give their support, but Cassandra was certain it had really been to gossip and wheedle some more interesting titbits out of the Clearys

"You didn't see Erik Brady mix anything into the drink before he handed it to you?" Everton asked

"No," Adrian replied. "I was too busy listening to what he had to say."

"Which was?" prompted Everton

"That he planned on asking Isabella Cleary to marry him."

"I don't think he ever really meant that," Cassandra broke in, and then bowed her head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt..."

"Well now that you have, you might as well finish what you were going to say, Miss Cleary," Everton encouraged

"I'm Mrs O'Shea now," she felt compelled to correct him

"My apologies, Mrs O'Shea. Do continue."

"Surely you must know by now that Erik wanted to marry me, and..." she trailed off, wishing she'd never spoken. Adrian lay there, propped against his pillows, grinning at her. "Oh, stop your smirking." She swatted him

"Yes, yes, enough people were quite happy to regale me with the reason you two ended up married," Everton muttered rather impatiently. "So you suspect Erik Brady was jealous, Mrs O'Shea?"

Cassandra shrugged. "I thought him above all that, but his abysmal behavior at the ball seems to give credence to that, doesn't it?"

"What abysmal behavior would that be?" Everton asked, tapping his pencil rather annoyingly against his note pad

"I thought we covered all that the other night when you questioned my father as to why he hit Erik."

"Broke his nose," Everton amended

"Your father thumped Erik Brady?" Adrian asked with raised brows. "I thought they were friends."

"Erik insulted me and kicked you while you were sick and unable to defend yourself. so no, they are no longer friends." She returned her attention to the constable. "Can't you just accept that Erik is trying to kill Adrian? It's as plain as the nose on the end of your face. Enough people saw him hand the poisoned glass to Adrian. Enough people saw him kick Adrian and my father's justified retaliation. Or is it because he's such an important man in this town that you can't bring yourself to arrest him, or even question him."

"He's been questioned all right," Everton said. "And told not to leave town."

"As if he would, being the town's biggest bank manager. And now that he's dealing in so much gold he probably thinks himself above the law," Cassandra retorted. "Just because Adrian once had a reputation for being a bit of a ruffian doesn't mean he's still like that. He's never committed a real crime, and yet you treat him like a criminal. He's the victim in all this."

For the first time the taciturn man of the law smiled. "I can see why Adrian is a changed man. You would defend him to the death, wouldn't you? And yes, you're right, he's not the villain. But I need to ask these questions to try and get a clear reason for a motive. And since it's happened twice now, Adrian is obviously in danger. I am going to post a watch right here in the hospital, and there will be someone following Brady's every move until we get to the bottom of this."

He turned his attention to Adrian. "For the record, Mr O'Shea, do you think Erik Brady is the one after you? From what I've heard you're not particularly popular with quite a few people in this town."

"I have no idea who it might be," Adrian said quietly, a frown dividing his brow. "All the evidence seems to be pointing at Brady, but I don't think the person who attacked me during the night was him. The man was too strong, and he seemed taller than Brady."

"Erik probably paid whoever it was to do it," Cassandra insisted

"Yes, he very well could have," Everton said and Adrian nodded.

"Maybe Prue Thomson ordered the attack, but somehow I doubt she's the murderous type," Adrian murmured contemplatively

Everton rolled his eyes. Obviously he'd been filled in about that particular incident by various eyewitnesses as well

"Miss Thomson wasn't seen anywhere near the punch table all night, and one of my officers has questioned her. Other than embarrassed and annoyed she doesn't bear either of you any ill feelings." The constable got to his feet. "Well, if either of you think of anything else, you know where to find me. And to allay your concerns, Mrs O'Shea, this inquiry is far from over."

Once he was gone, Cassandra sighed and took hold of Adrian's hand, linking her fingers through his. "I was so worried about you I could hardly sleep," she admitted

He reached out to stroke her fair hair with his other hand. "I don't think I was sent here to die, but I can't say I'm the slightest bit impressed about two close calls."

He coughed, and Cassandra squeezed his fingers, conscious of how much larger than hers his hands were. It felt so good to touch him, to be near him. "I'll look after you, Adrian dear, have no fear."

He smiled back at her. "I have no doubt about that. You're a born nurse."

"I thought I was meant to be a wife and a mother. It seems I'm getting to do neither." She sighed and tried to meet his eyes, but he glanced away from her. "I know now is not the time or place, but when you're better we really need to deal with this... this feeling between us, because I never felt it as strong for the other Adrian." There she had said it

Adrian met her gaze then. His eyes were ablaze with an inner light, and he held up his hands, palms out. "I surrender," he said. "I'm all yours Cassandra, for as long as I remain here in the past."

Cassandra smiled and got up to kiss him tenderly on the lips, not caring who might be watching. It didn't take him long to respond as he slid his arms around her waist, holding her against him, the only place in the world she wanted to be
Chapter Thirteen

Two days later Doctor Brown decided that Adrian was well enough to go home. Adrian thought this meant his ancestral home, but half the Cleary clan arrived to bustle him into their carriage, telling him that they would all look after him over Christmas.

Adrian didn't mind at first. He was just glad to get out of hospital. Never having liked them in the future, he liked those of the past even less. But once Christmas day was over Adrian became restless and bored. Always having been a man of action, being forced to take it easy by his slowly healing body and the fussy Cleary women, he became antsy and irritable.

Even Cassandra's tenderness started to get on his nerves, because he wanted more than that; he wanted to be alone with her so that they could finally sate the ever increasing desire that pulsed between them like a cracking wave of electricity. Adrian had never experienced such kindness from a woman, not since he'd been a child and his mother had cared for him whenever he'd been sick or hurt himself.

With the benefit of hindsight, he saw how selfish Katrina had been, how it had always been about her needs, her wants, her desires. Adrian had strived so hard to please her; he'd given her gifts, taken her to all the places she'd wanted to go, always ensured her pleasure during sex, but what had she ever given him, other than a broken heart? She would learn soon enough that Mark would never be so magnanimous, that he was just as selfish and demanding as she was

And here was Cassandra, a woman who'd only known one other man, someone just as weak as Mark, but she was prepared to lavish all her love and attention on Adrian simply because he wasn't that man. And Adrian felt the same way about her. He longed to show her just how much he cared

But they had to spend their nights apart, Adrian in the guest room, and Cassandra in the room she had grown up in. Even though they were married, Cassandra told him her parents would have a fit if they caught her in his bed. So, as he got better, he had to content himself with stolen kisses when he thought no one was looking late at night, a tender touch here and there. Those sweet moments only seemed to amplify his desire, and the need to become her husband in every sense of the word

If the fates that had sent him here didn't want this from him, then they had better send him a sign before it was too late

There still hadn't been any developments in Adrian's attempted murder case, and Constable Everton had suggested they remain with the Cleary family, but Adrian and Cassandra had had enough of the crowded house and simply wanted to be alone together. Besides, Everton had told them he had a man watching Brady.

It wasn't easy living with the knowledge that someone wanted him dead, and that he couldn't miraculously return to the future any time soon. Even though Brady must know he was a suspect, Adrian doubted it would deter him from trying to kill him again, either by his own hands or another hired thug

Adrian wasn't the kind of man to run and hide, particularly not in the Cleary's home. They had been more than hospitable, but he would surely wear out his welcome if he didn't leave as soon as he was able

So they rode out on a humid summer's afternoon a few days after seeing in the new year, the sky hazy with heat. Despite the warmth, Cassandra snuggled against him, and Adrian held her close as Charlie led them home. The horse trotted at a quick pace, obviously as keen as they were to reach their destination

They were both hot and damp with perspiration by the time they arrived, and Cassandra suggested a bath after dinner. Having brought back plenty of left-over food from the festive season it was easy to rustle up a quick meal. Adrian still couldn't eat much, and he preferred soft food due to the continued tenderness of his throat, so he drank a glass of apple cider before heading outside to fill up some buckets of water which Cassandra heated for the bath

"You go first," she told him as he walked into the back room. The bath was already half full and she poured some scented bath oil in before adding the next bucket

"Why don't we share it?" Adrian suggested with a wink

She stared at him in surprise. 'I don't think we'd fit. You're such a big man," she said, glancing from him back down into the water, her cheeks flushing

"We'll fit," he insisted, unbuttoning his shirt

"I'll get the last of the water. Don't get in yet. It will still be too hot."

She bustled past him from the room, and Adrian continued to strip. By the time she returned he was naked, and turned to drop the last item of clothing onto the growing pile across the bench

"Oh!" she gasped, and almost spilled the bucket of water she was carrying.

Adrian took it from her and poured it into the bath. When he set it down, he turned to see her staring at him.

Catching her eyes on one particular part of him, she quickly looked up and blushed. "You... you're much bigger than... than him..."

He saw her swallow, and grinned

"Well I'd hope so since the rest of me is bigger as well. Wouldn't want to be all out of proportion, now would I?" he said, stepping in close to cup her chin in one hand

"I mean a lot bigger."

Since he was already half aroused with anticipation, Adrian didn't doubt it

"Now am I going to see your lovely body, or do I have to throw you in the bath fully clothed?" he suggested, dipping his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. He slid his fingers into her hair, dislodging pins as he spread it out about her shoulders. "I'd try undressing you myself, but it would probably take me ages to get through all those buttons and layers of petticoats you wrap yourself in."

"You... you want me to undress in front of you, in daylight?"

Adrian leant his forehead against hers and nodded

"But –"

He silenced her with another kiss, and then stepped back. "All right, I'll get into the bath and turn my back if it will make you feel better."

She nodded shyly. Obviously she'd only ever done it under the cover of darkness. Adrian would take great pleasure in helping her overcome her shyness. He stepped into the bath and sunk down into the warm sudsy water.

Leaning his head back against the side, he listened to the whisper and rustle of her clothes as she removed them. Adrian licked his lips, the taste of her still on them

The flash of white in the corner of his eyes made him turn his head, and there she was, standing beside the bath, her creamy thighs close enough to touch. The sight of her golden triangle of curls at their apex made him growl thickly with desire.

He slid his gaze upwards to her navel, her softly curved hips and slender waist, up to those beautiful round breasts he'd only ever caught the barest glimpses of. They were fuller than he'd expected, and tipped with large pink nipples just perfect for his mouth

"You're beautiful," he breathed, reaching out to take her hand and guide her into the bath

As she lifted one leg to step over the rim, Adrian glimpsed her pink folds, where he would soon bury himself to sate the pulsing, burning ache that consumed him like it never had before

Once she had both feet in the bath, and made to hunker down, Adrian turned her around and pulled her back against him.

The feel of her slippery wet skin against his chest made him groan again, and he cupped a perfect round breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple, feeling it tighten and pucker under his touch

"Relax," he whispered against her ear, kissing her neck. "You do trust me, don't you?"

She nodded. "But... but I've never done this in a bath before."

"Don't worry, we're just going to relax and wash one another."

Despite the warmth of the water and the heat of his wet body sliding against hers, Cassandra shivered. The touch of his hand on her breast and his fingers against her nipple sent white-hot flames of sensation spearing through her body, leaving her totally incapable of thinking. All she could do was feel, experience the rub of his hard muscular chest against her back, his mouth against her neck, and his rock hard manhood pressing hotly against her bottom

How could she relax when every nerve ending was buzzing with sensation and her entire awareness was focused on what he was doing to her, sliding his big strong hands over her breasts, down her stomach, along her thighs, and then back again to comb through the soft curls between them

All the while he kissed her ear, her neck, her shoulder, making her feel physical sensations so powerful she wondered if perhaps he'd brought some form of magic back with him from the future

And then when she thought she could stand it no more, he picked up the cake of soap sitting on the side of the bath, and began to slide it over her body making her squirm and squeal in his arms

"Hold still, will you?" he laughed in her ear, as he tried to clean between her thighs

"I can't Adrian," she protested. "It's too much what you're doing to me."

"I haven't even begun... but how about I give you a reprieve, and you wash me," he suggested, placing the soap into her palm. As she tried to close her fingers around it, it shot out into the water.

They both dunked their hands into the water in search of it, but then Adrian found her foot, and ticked her, making her giggle and try to pull her ankle from his grasp. They splashed and laughed until Cassandra finally held the soap firmly in both hands

"We're making a terrible mess out of the bathroom," she said, as some more water slopped over the side

"But we're having fun doing it," Adrian grinned. "Now come wash me."

Cassandra had to get onto her knees to get close enough to him, knowing he now had a perfect eyeful of her beasts. She slid the soap along one brawny shoulder, then down his chest and back up to the other shoulder. As she moved it back down again, he leant forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth. It made her gasp as a shudder of sheer delight speared through her, and she lost her grip on the soap again

Adrian pulled her to him, sucking and nipping till she thought she would pass out from the power of the sensations sweeping through her. She dug her fingers into his scalp, gripping hold of his wet hair and moaned out loud

"I – I thought I was meant to be washing you," she gasped when he finally drew away

"I think we're both clean enough. The water's getting cold. How about drying off and going to bed."

"But it's not even dark yet."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" he grinned up at her

"Do – do all people of the future act like this?" she asked as he slid his wet hands down her back to cup her bottom

"Only the smart ones."

"I mean... I've never..."

He pressed his face to the cleft between her breasts. "This is what couples who love each other do. They want to give each other pleasure, and that's what I'm doing, Cassandra, pleasuring you. I mean, you are enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

"Yes... but is it right and proper?"

"Oh I forgot about your Victorian upbringing. Yes, Cassandra, it's perfectly normal behavior for two people who are in love."

Her heart leapt, filling with hope. "So you love me then?"

He held her away from him then and looked directly into her eyes. "I tried to fight it, but it's impossible not to love someone as beautiful and kind as you. So, yes I love you."

And she believed him, because his eyes never lied. His beautiful green eyes dazzled her with deep swirling emotion as he gazed up at her

She smiled down at him. "Then let's go to bed."

They got out of the bath, and Cassandra found them two towels.

After drying her hair, she wrapped it around herself and said; "I'll just go and get into my nightgown."

"Oh, no you won't. We're going to bed exactly as we are," Adrian insisted, as he too wrapped a towel around his middle. On him it barely reached his thighs, but at least she didn't have the distraction of his jutting manhood. Even though she wasn't a virgin, she feared it might still hurt after having seen how big it could get

He was right behind her as she walked down the hall to the main bedroom

"I – I just want to brush my hair," she said once they had entered the room

"I'll do it for you if you like," Adrian suggested

She looked up at him in surprise. "I've never had a man brush my hair before."

He smiled, picked up the hairbrush from the dresser and sat down on the bed. Then pulling Cassandra onto his lap, he proceeded to run the brush through her long tresses. She had to admit it felt really nice, and she leant back against him while he gently untangled her hair

When he was finished, he tossed the brush back onto the dresser and eased her back onto the bed beside him. He leant over her and proceeded to unwrap the towel, her only covering.

Her first reaction was to cover herself, but he must have known she would try that, because he leant further over her, pinning her arms down on either side of her body

As she lay there in the semi-darkness, he bent and kissed her breasts, swirling his tongue around the nipples, till she was squirming with pleasure beneath him. Then slowly he moved lower, kissing the gentle swell of her abdomen, and lower still, till he moved off the bed entirely and knelt down on the rug.

She tried to squeeze her legs together, wondering what on earth he was going to do down there, but he easily nudged them apart, and she felt his hot mouth against the soft skin on the inside of her thigh as he positioned himself between them. Even though it was growing dark outside, the curtains were still open, and enough light illuminated the room for him to be able to see the most intimate part of her

"It's all right, my love," he murmured as she felt his fingers lightly brush over her short blonde curls. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, I think you're really going to like this."

And then his mouth clamped down on her mound, his tongue darting against her woman's place, a place she never knew could send spasms of sheer and utter pleasure shooting up into her abdomen

Cassandra gasped out loud as he tantalized that small sensitive nub, flicking his tongue over it again and again

She felt his fingers slide inside her at the same time as he sucked on her womanly juices, and it felt oh so wonderful.

Her thighs dropped open of their own accord and her hands sought him out, her fingers twisting into his thick hair as the pleasure he was giving her increased, two fold, five fold, ten fold

She heard herself gasping and felt herself shuddering, knowing she must look wonton and wicked writing totally naked on the bed with a man between her legs, but strangely the thought only excited her more. She felt one of his hands slide up her body to cup her breast, and she pressed her own over it

"Oh Adrian," she cried his name. "Oh. Oh. Oh."

And then when she thought she could bear it no more, stars flashed behind her eyes as her body convulsed with exquisite wave after wave of sheer delight. Then it receded, leaving her feeling weak, but so relaxed, she thought she would surely pass out from the exhilaration of it all

She felt Adrian climb back onto the bed beside her, but she was too dazed to move, let alone look at him, until her pulled her into his arms, and kissed her, slowly sweetly, with the taste of her on his lips.

"Now I want you above me like the Goddess you are," he murmured against her ear

Before she had a chance to ask him what he meant, he had rolled her on top of him, and she felt his hot hard shaft against her folds.

Cassandra realized then what he wanted. Everything he'd done this evening had been a revelation to her, a sensual and wondrous discovery, so why should she be surprised that he now wanted her on top of him

As she knelt there, she felt him guide his shaft into her, and pressed her down onto him

"See, perfect fit," he announced, and she looked down at his flushed handsome face, his fiery hair, and strong broad chest.

"Now ride me, Cassandra." He bucked against her, and she knew what she had to do.

She couldn't believe how good it felt to have him inside her, to be able to see the expression on his face as he became lost in his own desire. His hand cupped her breast as she braced herself against his chest with both hands, feeling the hard play of muscles beneath them. All the while he stared up at her with those ever-changing green eyes as he writhed beneath her

"Oh yes. Oh yes," he panted, and shuddered, sending hot fire shooting up inside her. It made her sigh, as another wave of delight coursed through her

Outside the color dropped from the sky as night set in, and Adrian gathered her close, wrapping both his strong muscular arms around her.

"I love you, Cassandra, more than I've ever loved anyone" he whispered tenderly

"And I love you, Adrian from the future," she replied and drifted into a blissful sleep with her head resting against his shoulder

Adrian was woken by a soft feminine hand trailing seductively across his chest, down over his stomach, and back up again to brush over his nipples.

Unable to keep still any longer, he opened his eyes to peer into Cassandra's smiling face. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but the room was swathed in shadows, the moonlight slanting through the window casting a soft glow across their naked bodies

He trapped her exploring hand under his, and guided it down his body to his already aroused cock. Wrapping her fingers around it, he whispered; "Make me come."

She didn't need any further encouragement, stroking him rhythmically with her small soft hand.

Adrian turned his head to kiss her, gently at first, but more urgently as the pleasure of her touch increased

"Should I do it the way you did to me?" she asked in between kisses

"Hmmm?" Adrian wasn't sure what she was suggesting until she broke free of his kiss, to trail her mouth down the side of his jaw, along his neck and over shoulder.

She kissed her way across his chest, all the while working him with her soft deft fingers. She flicked her hot wet tongue over his nipples. Adrian experienced a jolt of electricity that made him gasp out loud. So she did it again and again

He laced his fingers into her long hair, pushing her head away, so she moved lower, kissing his stomach, and lower still, till her mouth replaced her hand

"Oh God," he moaned, when she sucked him hard for the first time. He writhed on the bed as the ecstasy mounted within him. "You're magic, Cassandra. Pure magic."

Suddenly she was gone from him, and he felt a cold gust of air cool his ardor. He blinked to see her above him. Realizing at once what she was about, he rolled her over onto her stomach.

Positioning her on all fours in front of him he came at her from behind. She gasped when he thrust into her, and he took hold of her breast, kneading it

She had sent him over the edge, and he had to finish this before his lost all sense and reason. He knew he wasn't being gentle with her, but he couldn't control the power of his desire.

He thrust into her, hard and fierce, again and again

She shuddered around him, squeezing him tight in her hot wet folds. making him come with such force, he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, drowning in sweet sensation

Feeling her squirm underneath him, Adrian rolled from her and onto his side to face her.

"I'm sorry about that," he murmured. "I don't know what came over me."

She placed a silencing finger against his lips. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He had to be sure

"No Adrian, you didn't. I enjoyed every minute of it."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"So are you, Adrian. So are you."
CHAPETER FOURTEEN

Adrian continued to sleep a lot on his return home, his convalescence still not fully complete, so it surprised Cassandra when on the third day back, he told her that he wanted to ride into the bush on Charlie

"I have this picture in my mind of where some more gold was found, or rather I should say, will be found, in about six months time. I just want to check it out," he told her.

"Can't you wait a few more days, or at least take someone with you, maybe my father or one of my brothers," Cassandra suggested. "You've got a six months head start... And what if you do find it? What will you do then? You could very well change history."

They were sitting in the kitchen eating their breakfast, Adrian's favorite, bacon, eggs and tomato.

"I've thought long and hard about that," he said. "If the fates didn't want me to change history, they wouldn't have sent me back here in the first place, now would they? Besides I might find nothing at all."

"At least wait for one of the others. They said they'd come out today," Cassandra persisted

"I'll be fine. I'll be riding most of the way, nothing too strenuous about that. And I won't do much digging today. I just want to find the site, see it with my own eyes. I know it's not far."

"Where is it?"

He told her where along the river he thought it was, and that it would take him no more than an hour to get there if the track was passable

"I can't dissuade you?" she asked one last time

He adamantly shook his head

"Then at least let me pack you some lunch."

"Thank you. I'm pretty sure I'm meant to do this."

"Men and their hair-brained schemes," Cassandra muttered under her breath as she got up from her seat to clear away the breakfast things

"I heard that." Adrian reached out, grabbed her round the waist, and swung her into his lap. "You might even become rich out of this," he murmured into her ear, before he took the lobe into his mouth

"Stop that," she squirmed against him. "I'm already rich, rich with love for you. That's enough for me."

"So am I." He kissed her neck

"Then why go?"

"Curiosity killed the cat," he admitted

"Well it had better not kill you. As soon as they arrive I'm sending them after you."

"All right, you do that. Now one more kiss and I'll saddle up Charlie. It's been years since I've ridden so it'll probably take me a while to get used to being on a horse again."

"Another reason for you to wait," she persisted

"They'll probably be here by the time I get going at this rate." He kissed her then, fiercely and hungrily, not letting her go till they were both gasping from the sheer force of their passion. But finally she slid from his lap and he got to his feet

Half an hour later she waved him off, trepidation and doubt sitting heavily in her stomach like a fatty meal.

"I should have tried harder to stop him," she muttered to herself. It felt all wrong, but what man wanted to trust in a woman's intuition? Why she was so certain that gold wasn't for him she didn't know, but she felt it so deep in her bones they ached

She stood watching him until he disappeared from sight around a bend in the path, still sitting rather awkwardly upon the horse. When he said it had been a while since he'd ridden, he'd really meant it, but Charlie was placid, and knew and trusted Adrian, so he was unlikely to throw him or do anything else untoward, unless spooked in some way

With a heavy sigh, Cassandra returned inside to finish her chores. She had done the dishes and was making the bed, when she heard a shoe scrape against the floorboards behind her

Surprised that her family hadn't knocked first, she turned abruptly to face them

But it wasn't her father or either of her brothers standing there.

It was Erik Brady.

The sight of him in the doorway of her bedroom made her scream in shock. By the time she'd recovered, he was advancing towards her. He looked different somehow, and it took her a moment to realize why. His hair was messed and his clothes rumpled, as though he might have been sleeping in them, and there was a strange gleam in his eyes that unsettled her

"Wh– what are you doing here?" she stammered. "And haven't you heard of knocking?"

"What's the point in knocking when the door's already open?" he replied, continuing to advance on her, until she was forced to take a step back, where she came up against the bed

"What do you want, Erik?" she asked in a voice she hoped sounded calmer than she felt.

The almost feral look in his eyes was really starting to frighten her. She had never seen him like this, but then how was she to know the real Erik. She'd always thought him a staid calm businessman. But on the night of the Christmas ball, he'd displayed a fit of temper unlike any she had ever seen. And if he really had put the poison into Adrian's drink then she was now in deep trouble

"I want you," he said, leaning into her. "After watching through that window I now know what you are capable of-"

"You've been spying on us?" she gasped in horror, remembering how they rarely closed the curtains because they were so far from town, no one would see them anyhow

"I wanted to know why the hell you prefer that animal O'Shea. Those things he makes you do! It's barbaric! But you enjoy it, don't you? Letting him come at you from behind, sucking on him like a fucking whore!"

Growling, he grabbed hold of her left hand and pressed it against his groin. He was already aroused, but if that was how big he got, then his manhood was as thin and weedy as the rest of him

"Been watching and waiting, knowing he'd leave you alone eventually. And now two men I've paid handsomely are after him while I take what should have been mine, mine!"

"No!" Cassandra protested, trying to pull her hand free, but he shoved her backwards and she ended up sprawled on the bed

"Mine," he repeated, and started hiking up her skirts, all the while rubbing himself against her, groaning and grunting like the animal he kept insisting Adrian to be

Cassandra tried to push him away, but despite his slender stature he was still much stronger than her.

He pressed both her arms down between them, and forced his tongue into her mouth. His breath stank of stale gin. She gagged, almost throwing up in his face. So unlike Adrian, who always smelt so clean and fresh and desireable

She finally managed to turn her head away, gasping for air, but he continued to run his wet mouth and tongue over her cheek, still trying to get past the barrier of her skirts. Cassandra saw the pitcher on the bedside table. If only she could get a hand free she might be able to reach it

Suddenly she realized his fumbling included trying to undo his trousers, and to her horror and disgust, she felt his erect shaft press against the back of her hand, and she had an idea. She managed to twist her hand around, and grabbed hold of him

"Oh yes," he groaned

Cassandra dug her nails in.

He howled, and she managed to get her other arm free

"You'll pay for this!" he roared, grabbing hold of her hair, just as she got hold of the metal jug's handle.

He yanked, hard.

She screamed, seeing stars, just as the jug found its mark, cracking against the back of his head

The sound was almost deafening in the silent room. Cassandra stared at him as his eyes rolled back, and he slid from her onto his knees beside the bed.

For a moment he swayed, before toppling backwards to land in a wholly awkward and undignified position on the floor, his man-root still poking from his trousers, looking so small and shriveled, she would have laughed had she not been so traumatized

Just then her father burst into the room, followed by Brian and Constable Everton.

At the sight of them, Cassandra began to shake, her entire body going cold with shock. "He – he tried to – to rape me," she stammered through chattering teeth

"I can see that," Father intoned icily, staring down at the collapsed man, his face a rictus of repressed rage. He then hefted a kick straight at Erik's exposed genitalia, but Constable Everton shoved him back.

"Don't make this any worse than it already is," the lawman urged

"Is – is he dead?" Cassandra whispered fearfully. She hadn't meant to kill him, merely stop him from attacking her. The thought of him dying at her hands made her tremble even more

When he was sure Father wouldn't attempt to strike Erik again, Everton bent over the comatose man, but he was already starting to stir. The constable unclipped a set of metal handcuffs from his belt and slid them around Erik's wrists. Just as Erik's eyes opened, Everton locked them in place

Erik moaned, "What the hell?" He stared in dazed confusion at his cuffed hands

"You're under arrest, Erik Brady, for the attempted murder of Adrian O'Shea and the attempted rape of Cassandra O'Shea."

"You have no proof," Erik yelled, and then groaned. "Oww, my head."

"More than ample proof of you trying to rape another man's wife," Father yelled.

Then Erik saw that his trousers and underclothes were still undone exposing him in a most undignified fashion. "Cover me up for God's sake. She did this to me." He tired to motion to Cassandra, but his heavy iron cuffs rattled when he tried to raise his hands

"I'm taking you into custody now," Everton announced.

Her brother was still standing behind Father, looking shocked and confused. This was probably too much for him. God, it was more than Cassandra could take, and then she remembered something else Erik had told her

"He - he's sent some men after Adrian. We need to go after them, after him. You said someone was watching Erik," she accused the constable

"Yes I know, but I had to call him off for some other duties. There was trouble at the gold site which required back-up. By the time we got that under control Brady was gone. I'm sorry Mrs O'Shea, but if you could tell me the direction your husband has taken I'll cuff this man to the house outside while I'm gone."

Still shaking, Cassandra managed to give him the directions

"That's not much to go on," Father muttered. "I think I might go with you Everton, if you don't mind. I'll just go and unhitch one of the horses. Brian, you stay here with your sister and make sure she's all right."

"Yes Father," Brian murmured, as Everton hauled Erik to his feet.

He didn't bother pulling Erik's trousers back up as he marched him out of the room. Through the window Cassandra saw him cuff him to one of the verandah beams

"This - this is totally undignified," Erik cursed

"And so is your behavior. Want to know why there was trouble at the digs, Brady?" Cassandra heard Everton bark at him. "Because they were amassing to march on your bank. Your dealers thought the miners were cheating them by breaking up the nuggets, but it was you trying to make extra profit on the side. You thought they'd blame the Union Bank. Luckily my man kept such a close watch on you and got inside to see what you were doing. That's enough to put you away for a very long time, Brady. And if your men manage to kill O'Shea today, then its life, perhaps even the noose."

Cassandra couldn't believe that Erik had turned out to be such a greedy, selfish and evil man. It made her feel sick to the core

"Oh God," she moaned, suppressing another shudder, and felt her brother's hand against her shoulder. "Please let them find Adrian and bring him back safely."

She turned and buried her face in Brian's shirt, wishing with all her heart that she'd tried harder to stop him from going

Adrian hadn't been on the road long when he realized he was being followed. At first he thought the two men riding some distance behind him were simply taking the same route, but since no one else lived out this way, he soon revised his opinion, and wondered just how he was going to lose them. Not having been in a saddle for such a long time, he doubted his ability to outride them.

Perhaps it would be best to head into the scrub and try to lose them in the bush, but he didn't want to leave Charlie at their mercy either, even though he was certain the horse could find his own way home.

Trying to double-back wasn't an option either. The bush was too dense to try and maneuver the big horse through the prickly foliage without the poor beast ending up scratched and bruised

"I am such an idiot," Adrian muttered out loud, because if they had followed him from the homestead, what's to say they hadn't already harmed Cassandra? But then Brady was after him, not her, so his best bet was to try and lead them as far from home and the prospective gold as possible

What he didn't bank on was that at least one of them would have a gun. As Adrian picked up the pace, so did they, no longer trying to hid the fact they were following him.

As they rode nearer he saw the butt of a rifle in the leading man's hands, and thought they looked familiar. Beneath him Charlie must have sensed his agitation, for the horse turned his trot into a canter

Behind him Adrian heard the hooves of the other horses drumming against the dirt road, growing steadily closer. Adrian had only once ridden at a gallop, and it had scared him more than exhilarating him, but he was going to have to do it now. He dug his heels into Charlie's flanks and slapped the reins,

"Come one boy, show me what you're made of." Knowing him to be more of a draft horse than built for speed, Adrian doubted his ability to keep up the pace for long

Charlie complied, galloping through the bush with Adrian clinging to the reins and saddle for dear life. Having once or twice driven down the highway at almost a hundred over the speed limit felt nothing like this, and Adrian hoped like hell he wasn't going to end up underneath Charlie's hooves instead of above them. Neither did he dare look back for fear of losing his balance, but he could hear their horses. He even heard one of the men shout something, sounding too close for comfort

Then a shot rang out.

For a moment Adrian thought he'd been hit, as something slammed into his shoulder. He almost fell from the horse from the force of it, but managed to cling to Charlie's reins with one hand and the front of the saddle with the other

Turning his head, he saw what had hit him rebound and slap the man with the gun smack across the face.

A tree branch.

It sent the man toppling from his horse, but not before Adrian realized who he was, who they both were, as the other fellow was right behind him

Artie and Mick from Cleary's shop

Did that mean it wasn't Brady who wanted him dead but Cassandra's father?

The thought made Adrian feel nauseous. Maybe they both wanted him dead. Perhaps Brady and Cleary were in this together. If that was the case, what chance did Adrian have of surviving?

Getting better, he realized as the second man's horse ploughed into the back of the first.

Artie was on the ground, the gun having slid down the slope towards the river. Artie's horse squealed in shock, reared, and when he came down, one of his hooves ended up embedded right in the centre of Artie's chest.

Adrian heard the squelch and cracking of bones, and the man howled in agony. He turned his face away in horror. He thought he should do something to help the downed man, but Mick had already jumped clear of his mount.

No, Adrian decided, they wanted to kill me. Let them fend for themselves.

Adrian continued on down the road, feeling dazed and heartsick. He'd never seen anything so gruesome, and after having viewed hundreds of shoot-em-up flicks, he thought he could handle anything

Obviously not in real life.

The desire to prospect for gold left him and all he wanted to do was return to Cassandra, to wrap his arms around her and drown in her tenderness so he could put this awful incident behind him. But if her father really was involved in trying to bump him off, it would probably be best to steer clear of the place for a while. He still had no idea whether Mick would tend to his fallen partner in crime, or come after Adrian

Adrian continued to glance over his shoulder as he trotted Charlie through the bush, but he didn't hear or see anyone.

After a while he came to a fork in the road, the one leading to the river much more overgrown and barely visible through the foliage.

Glancing about, Adrian wondered if he'd ridden far enough to be near the Edmonds site. His flight from Mick and Artie had distracted him. He couldn't believe that something as simple as an overhanging tree branch had ended the pursuit so easily

Conscious that Mick might still follow him, Adrian continued along the better marked track for a about a hundred paces. Then he dismounted and led Charlie into the undergrowth

"Sorry mate," he muttered. "Just trying to mislead them."

It didn't take him long to return to the river-bound trail, but Adrian decided not to remount the horse. His thighs felt stiff from the ride, and his shoulder ached from the impact of the tree branch

They headed down the path, which grew progressively more overgrown the further they went.

After a while, Adrian turned to the horse. "I think I might go the rest of the way on my own," he said out loud. He looped Charlie's bridle over a sturdy tree-branch and tied it back, making sure the animal could access the grass growing on either side of the track

Adrian continued on alone, his daypack slung over his good shoulder. He hiked for a good half an hour, following the line of the river, always keeping it in his sights, but the trail had disappeared, and he had to step over and around boulders, tree roots, saplings and bushes

And then he saw it, just like the picture he had in his mind's eye' three tall gums on the outcrop of land on the other side of the river with a fallen tree lying across the trickling river bed.

He had arrived, beaten Edmonds to the gold that had made him a fortune.

But what was Adrian going to do about it?

Cassandra had been right. If he did find it wouldn't he change history? Maybe that's exactly what he was supposed to do. How on earth had his great great grandfather survived all those assassination attempts anyhow? Perhaps he hadn't. They had only had one child... a child still to be conceived

Unless... Could he have made Cassandra pregnant during one of their incredibly sensual and pleasurable love making sessions over the past three days?

"Oh crap," Adrian muttered out loud. "Wish I knew what the hell I'm meant to do."

He stood on the embankment, gazing over at the three gums, and then down into the water, tricking over and around the rocks on the creek bed, uncertainly gnawing at him

Then he caught sight of something shiny just a few feet away

"Gold!" he gasped. Definitely not an abandoned tin can in this time and place.

Dropping his pack, he took a swig of the water from the flask, before yanking out the panning gear. He'd only brought a small pick and shovel, only half-certain he'd do any digging

Peeling off his shoes and socks, Adrian stepped into the cool water.

The first nugget was easy to remove, almost as though it had been waiting for someone to discover it. Adrian had no problem prying it free with the end of the pick

"What a beauty!" he murmured in awe as he held it up so that it gleamed brilliantly in the sun.

It was almost two centimeters in diameter.

Perfect. Worth a mint now or in the future

The sun gleaming against the gold suddenly blinded him, making everything shimmer eerily before his eyes

Adrian felt a strange kind of weakness overcome him, as though he was going to pass out.

He clung to the nugget for dear life, and then the whole world went black.

After three days of searching, Cassandra knew they weren't going to find Adrian alive and well. She sat at the kitchen table with her mother and sisters beside her, unable to eat or sleep. They had come to the homestead after Everton had hauled Brady and Mick back to town in chains and reported that Adrian O'Shea was missing

She wondered if Mick had lied, and that they really had killed Adrian and hidden his body somewhere in the bush. Even though Artie had died under the hooves of his own horse, thus cutting off their pursuit, she could feel no sympathy for them. Besides, her father was absolutely livid that his own employees had accepted money from Brady to try and end Adrian's life

"Did you go to the site Adrian described?" she demanded on the third evening when her father, brother and two officers once again returned alone

"Yes, we found his pack, and his horse tied to a tree further up. And we found gold," Father said. "He was right, there's gold there, and lots of it."

"I don't care about the damn gold. I just want my husband back," she yelled, tears brimming in her eyes. She should have known that gold would only bring pain

As the days slipped into weeks, Cassandra lost hope of ever seeing her husband again. It was as though Adrian O'Shea had disappeared off the face of the earth. All she could hope for was that he had safely returned to the future where he belonged. Her only consolation was that she was never again burdened with the original Adrian O'Shea.

She preferred to live the rest of her life alone than having him return to bother her, not now that she'd discovered what true love felt like

But Cassandra didn't live her life out alone. Eight months later her son was born, and she knew exactly which Adrian had fathered him. She lavished all her love and attention on her child, making sure he grew up knowing just how special his father had been
Chapter Fifteen

Adrian woke to the sound of Jimmy Barnes belting out Working Class Man on his clock radio. For a moment he lay in the semi-darkness wondering why on earth he should find it odd to be listening to a song he'd already heard at least a hundred times

And then he remembered, and sat bolt upright, instantly awake.

A jab of pain in his left shoulder made him groan out loud as he stared around the familiar bedroom. He'd been sprawled in the middle of the queen-sized bed, still fully clothed, except for shoes and socks. His feet were bare. And he had something in his right hand, clinging to it so hard it had dug painfully into his palm

Slowly he uncurled his fist, and stared down at the gleaming object - the nugget of gold he'd found in the river at the Edmonds site.

Adrian collapsed back against the pillows behind him with a groan and squeezed his eyes shut.

Maybe I'll find myself back by the creek if I don't peek, he thought inanely. Hardly likely with Jimmy screeching in the background, Working Class Man was starting to majorly piss him off, so he reached out and swatted the thing into silence

Outside his window he heard the distant rumble of traffic, the muffled thumps and bumps as the other residents in the building got ready for work

Adrian moaned in abject misery as realization hit him. He was back in his own time, a place he really didn't want to be

After finally succumbing to the sheer bliss of Cassandra's warm and inviting arms, her beautiful soft body, and her tender heart, all Adrian wanted was to have her right here beside him

But of course his bed remained empty.

Occasionally Katrina had stayed the night, but she didn't like his noisy building. If Adrian wanted to drown the noise out he just pumped up the volume of his stereo, but she couldn't go to sleep unless it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop

Adrian realized he hadn't thought about Katrina, or Mark, for that matter, in weeks. And now it seemed he would have to face them, and the unholy mess his life had become

"Should have known it wasn't meant to last," he muttered unhappily to himself. "Should have known that happiness had a use-by-date."

If Adrian thought he'd been depressed when he first arrived in the past, he now felt almost suicidal. How can I live the rest of my life without her? he asked himself. Why send me back there to find love only to tear me away again?

Of course no answer came. He'd obviously done something to stuff it up, that no doubt being the piece of gold he still held in his hand

Adrian suddenly felt like hurling it across the room, but instead he placed it on the bedside table. Just as he drew his hand away, the phone sitting there buzzed into life, a noise that made Adrian look at the device in confusion, before he picked it up and reluctantly brought it to his ear

"Are you up?" It was his father's voice, and Adrian was suddenly so glad to hear it, he felt tears prick his eyes. Here was someone he really had missed

"Hi Dad," he mumbled into the mouthpiece, dashing the annoying wetness away. Since when had he become such a sentimental fool?

"You overslept again, didn't you? Well, you'd better be ready by the time I get there, which will be..." Adrian heard rustling. "In about ten minutes. Today's the day we clinch the big one, son, the deal that's going to put O'Shea's Building Enterprises on the map."

"Um Dad..." Adrian hated sounding like a dolt, but he must have missed something while he'd been in the past, because hadn't his father retired months ago to take care of his mother?

"How's Mum?" he asked

"She's fine of course. Organizing another show after the blazing success of the last one. We'll have her on the art radar before we know it. Those galleries are really starting to take notice now, and with us clinching the Ocean Oasis Resort, we'll be able to retire in luxury."

Suddenly the line went dead, and Adrian shook his head in confusion.

What on earth was his father going on about? Adrian had never even heard of Ocean Oasis, and wasn't his mother now too depressed for a trip to the shops let alone organize an art exhibition? Perhaps she'd decided to take the anti-depressants after all, the only reason Adrian could think of as to why she was now in such a good mood

Guess I'll find out soon enough what's going on, he thought as he climbed rather slowly and painfully out of bed. It wasn't until he peeled his shirt off that he saw how bruised and torn his shoulder was. He really should put something on it, but if his father was due to arrive within ten minutes, he'd better get into the shower pronto. He smelt like a god-dammed horse

As he stripped and stepped into the cubicle, he thought about Charlie, still tied up in the middle of the bush. What's going to happen to him now? What about Cassandra? Would she get her other husband back again now that Adrian had returned to the future?

If it hadn't been for the nugget of gold sitting on his bedside table, and the dirty, muddy clothes he'd woken up in, he would have thought it had all been an incredibly realistic dream, a dream that left him feeling bereft, lost and achingly alone

Adrian was toweling himself dry when the downstairs intercom buzzed. His father was here already, and he still didn't have a stitch of clothing on. He went to release the door mechanism to allow his father access to the building before heading back into his bedroom to quickly slip on some clothes,

He'd gone as far as some underwear when his father appeared in the doorway. Ian O'Shea looked fit and healthy, and he was wearing a suit. Adrian had never seen him in anything this formal as far as he could remember

"You're still not dressed!" Ian exclaimed. "Where the heck were you last night to end up with a bruise like that on your shoulder? And for God's sake go and shave. You look like you've been out bush-bashing in that great big four by four of yours again."

I've been bush-bashing all right, Adrian thought wryly, but on something with four legs not four wheels.

As he headed down the hall to his bathroom, he couldn't help wondering why his father was acting so strangely.

There was something different about his living room too, but it took him a moment to realize what was amiss

Instead of the small TV he'd picked up cheaply at a sale, he saw an enormous plasma screen, and a sound system to die for. That certainly hadn't been there the last time he'd looked. Adrian was tempted to go over and turn it on, but his father was obviously impatient to get away, so he went to the bathroom and shaved. Using his Philips triple action felt strange to him after all those weeks of living dangerously with a blade sharp enough to slit his throat

When he returned to the bedroom, Ian had laid out a white shirt, tie and suit pants across the bed, clothes Adrian had never seen before. Looks like we're off to something hugely important, Adrian thought, as he picked up the shirt and shouldered it on

They headed downstairs a few minutes later, but Ian clicked his remote to a brand new top of the range Ford Falcon instead of the ten year old Commadore

"You'd better just come with me," Ian said as walked around to the driver's side. "I'll drive you back tonight or you can catch the train."

"You know I hate the trains, Dad," Adrian protested as he got into the passenger's seat and slipped on his seatbelt

"Well, then you should have been up and on your way half an hour ago. This meeting is too important to mess up."

"What about Mark?" Adrian asked

Ian slanted him a strange look as he started the ignition. "What's wrong with you this morning? Mark and Kat are on their honeymoon. Won't be back till week after next. And since when has he been interested in the family business?"

If he'd been interested in the family business he wouldn't have gambled half of it away, Adrian had to concur. And he'd married Katrina while Adrian had been in the past. How convenient, he thought bitterly. Except then he saw the date on Ian's mobile phone, sitting in the hand's free kit between them

Adrian was certain he'd been dragged into the past on the twenty-seventh of November, and it was now the twenty-eighth of that month, so he had returned the same night he'd left. How then had Mark and Karina ended up married so quickly?

Things were not adding up, so Adrian decided to just sit back in the comfortable seat and let his new life unfold. He was certain he'd discover soon enough what his father was on about.

Adrian had always thought Ian too young to retire anyhow. He was only fifty-five, but looked no more than forty-five with his jet black hair, olive complexion and lean, almost six foot tall frame. Perhaps he'd found his mother a temporary carer while he set up whatever deal was going down today

They headed right into the centre of the city, the early morning traffic snarls making Ian curse under his breath

"I hate this intersection. It was the one where your mother wrote off her three week old BMW," Ian muttered

"What?" Adrian gasped

"I know it sounds like I'm making light of it now, but if it hadn't been for the air bag the rotten P-Plater that side-swiped her could have gotten her killed."

"Or turned her into a paraplegic," Adrian added

"Don't even think such a thing, son. I don't know how any of us would have coped if something like that had happened to her."

"Not very well," Adrian muttered under his breath, as he sat and fidgeted with his tie, slowly becoming aware that while he'd been in the past, his life and that of his family had undergone a radical about face

Ian finally drove the car into the underground parking lot of a modern twenty-something story concrete and glass monstrosity. He held out some kind of pass to the attendant that stepped out of his box to greet them

"Good morning Mr O'Shea," the young Indian man intoned in his heavily accented voice

"Good morning, Ravi," Ian replied politely, before he continued on to what was obviously a private parking area and backed the car into a spot right down the end

They both got out, and Adrian followed his father to the lifts where Ian pressed the button to the top floor. It looked like Ocean Oasis was something pretty damned spectacular if they could afford real estate on the top of a CBD sky-scarper.

Other people entered the lift on the ground floor, more business men and women, ready to take on the corporate world. After the much simpler life Adrian had been leading the past few weeks, they looked like aliens to him, and he was beginning to wonder just which world he preferred to live in. To all intents and purposes, Adrian had grown used to the 1850s. Now he wondered if he'd ever readjust to his life in 2010, particularly now that he'd lost Cassandra

In order to keep the painful ache in his heart at bay, Adrian concentrated on watching the people get off the lift as it stopped at various floors. Finally they were the only ones left, no one else destined for the oasis on the top floor

The lift doors parted, and Ian strode purposefully into a foyer of chrome and glass. Through distant windows Adrian could see the iconic coat hanger Harbor Bridge, and the white sails of the Opera House. But what amazed him most of all was that this wasn't the head office of Ocean Oasis but that of O'Shea's Building Enterprises, the company logo clearly displayed in gold on the wall behind a massive reception counter. A pretty receptionist with blonde bobbed hair sat behind it talking on the phone. Several comfortable looking leather lounges sat grouped around a glass coffee table in the waiting area off to one side

Adrian didn't realize he'd stopped dead in his tracks until Ian turned to give him a rather annoyed glare

"We have a lot to prepare before they get here, so will you hurry up?" he urged

Adrian felt like a lost puppy as he trailed after his father through the office, being greeted by various staff already at their desks, people Adrian had never met in his life. What the heck had been going on here while he'd been in the past? None of it made any sense

Finally Ian entered the sanctity of a large plush office. He slipped into the high-backed office chair and then glanced up at Adrian. "Will you go to your office and bring in your laptop. We'll go over the figures one last time, and then I'll get Stephanie to set the boardroom up."

Adrian turned around and left Ian's office, seeing it had his name and position clearly marked on the door. So logically there should be a similar door nearby with his name and position on it. He passed a desk at which an immaculate, auburn haired, middle-aged woman was now turning on the computer

"Good morning, Adrian," she greeted him politely

"Good morning," he replied. Now mind telling me where the heck my office is, but he didn't need to add that bit as he'd already found it, right next to his father's. It was just as spacious, and appointed with modern comfortable furniture and all the latest hi-tech gadgetry, complete with views across the harbor.

He realized he more or less held the same position he had when they'd just been a small contracting firm. Now they obviously dealt with much bigger fish, just how big he discovered as soon as he turned on his laptop and clicked on the Ocean Oasis link on the desktop.

There he saw a blueprint for a resort the size of a small city. It included a shopping precinct, a movie complex, dozens of swimming pools, beach front accommodation, and an entertainment arcade. However it wouldn't to be in Australia, but in Indonesia. Did that mean travelling there to oversee its construction? Adrian wondered

He ambled back to his father's office studying the file, wondering how they were going to pull this one off, and at the same time trying to work out what on earth he'd done in the past to alter his current reality to such an extent that he was now a senior partner of a multi-million dollar company which his brother had nothing to do with

The slender, auburn-haired woman followed Adrian into his father's office carrying a tray containing two steaming cups of coffee and a plate of raisin toast triangles. Since Adrian hadn't had the opportunity to eat breakfast, he appreciated the gesture

"Trying to fatten us up for the slaughter, eh Stephanie?" Ian remarked, waving his hand over the toast

"A cup of coffee isn't enough to start the day," she replied with a smile. "And for what it's worth, I think you'll win the tender hands down."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence, Steph. Let us know when they arrive."

Once she'd left the room, he turned to Adrian, and said; "How does she always know when I haven't had any breakfast? I swear she's a mind-reader."

I wouldn't mind one of those right about now, Adrian thought, because he had no idea how or why everything had changed so dramatically during his absence

"Well, Adrian, if we win the Indonesian deal, you can buy that house at Point Piper you saw the other day, and I can retire so your mother and I can relax at the Ocean Oasis, or any other resort that takes our fancy. You'll have the business all to yourself at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. Every woman is going to want a piece of you. Being shy won't be a problem for you anymore."

Adrian had never thought of himself as shy, reticent yes, quiet, certainly, but then he was very quickly beginning to realize he'd walked into another version of his life which he obviously hadn't lived. He raked a hand through his hair. This was just getting weirder and more annoying by the minute

"Go on, have a piece of toast. You look like you need it. Wherever you were last night seems to have really shaken you up. How about I do most of the talking this morning, eh?" Ian suggested

Adrian nodded. "That would be a really good idea, I think." Particularly since I have no idea what the hell is going down here, other than mega bucks

Ian gave him a playful punch on the arm across the desk. "They don't call you Adrian O'Shy for nothing, do they?"

Adrian would really have loved to know who 'they' were. "I was in Bathurst actually," he said at last, just before he bit into a slice of toast

"What on earth were you doing there? No car-racing going on there at this time of the year that I know of."

"Travelling down memory lane."

"Is the old place still standing or have they already knocked it down?" Ian asked, taking a sip of his coffee

'I don't know. I didn't get that far," Adrian replied, glancing away, knowing he'd have to go and find out for himself since so much else about his life appeared to have irrevocably changed

"I wish you'd stop going back there, Adrian." The concern in Ian's tone made him glance back up to meet the grave expression on his father's face. "It only makes you sad, and you know how you get when you're down. We all have fond memories of the place, but time marches on for all of us. Promise me you won't go back. I don't want to see you close down again, particularly if we get the Ocean Oasis off the ground."

Did he really think he was such a sook? Adrian wondered, but then how was he to know what kind of person he'd become in this particular time frame

Adrian sighed. He was really starting to get tired of stepping into other people's shoes. Why couldn't he just go back to who he was?

Because that Adrian obviously no longer existed.

By falling in love with Cassandra, and digging up the nugget of gold, Adrian had changed not only his own future, but that of all those around him, his father, his mother and even his brother. Weather it was for the better, he still couldn't ascertain. Financially they seemed a hell of a lot better off, but Adrian wasn't at all sure he liked the man he'd become

He desperately longed to find some quiet corner to think and sort through it all, but Stephanie stuck her head around the door to announce that the Indonesians had arrived. It seemed he was about to organize a deal worth millions, which he had no real knowledge of and even less interest in

On leaden feet he followed his father from the office, once again going through the motions of someone else's life
Chapter Sixteen

Sandy Cleary stepped into the foyer of the big city building and walked up to the information board. She became aware of clutching the handle of her satchel so hard her arm ached. Swapping it to her other hand, she stretched out her fingers and tried to relax her tense shoulders

After spending months trying to decipher the tight, faded, old-fashioned cursive script and typing it into her computer, and many weeks to confirm that the man actually existed, she now hesitated to prove it

She stood in front of the information board not really seeing it, her mind still grappling with the knowledge she carried in her beg. It contained the old pages, her typed up manuscripts, and the device her great great aunt had saved in the old wooden box for over one hundred and fifty years

Anyone could have placed it there, Sandy reasoned to herself. Her great great aunt could have made the entire story up. It read just like a romance novel from a bygone era. But there was no way a woman long dead could have possibly known about computers, cars, and mobile phones that contained photos of holiday resorts

Sandy's grandmother had brought the old box with her when they moved to Sydney during the Great Depression. She told Sandy she hadn't tried to decipher it, but gave it to Sandy when she turned eighteen because of her interest in the olden days.

For a long time Sandy hadn't done anything with it either, studying hard at university to obtain her qualifications as a nurse, and then working long hours to gain the experience she needed to advance into the field of her choice; obstetrics and childbirth.

But an accident at work had led to six months leave to heal not only her injured back, but also her troubled mind, after several newborns had died within weeks of one another. Babies weren't meant to die in this day and age, but as Sandy began to look into the past, she realized just how common it had been, and it helped with her grief over seeing someone so young leave this earth before they had even had a chance to experience it

As soon as she began to read her great great aunt's story, Sandy became engrossed in the tale, and wondered why she'd left it so long.

Of course she'd known about the gold the two families had found, gold which had brought them prosperity and a good life well into the early twentieth century.

The Great Depression however had ended all that for the Clearys, and they had to start all over again, moving to Sydney in search of work

The O'Sheas however, had gone from strength to strength, the Great Depression a mere dent in their building business.

Sandy hadn't known anything about the O'Sheas until she began her research, the only link being her great great aunt who had married Adrian O'Shea, a man who mysteriously vanished on the day he discovered the gold in the river that ran past his home

What Sandy learnt from Cassandra Cleary's notes, however, totally floored her. If what she said was true, she'd known two Adrian O'Sheas, who looked so alike few people had been able to tell them apart. According to Cassandra one of them had come from the future, carrying a wallet containing strange money with a new queen on it, a mobile phone and an iPod in his pocket. Sandy had the iPod in her shoulder bag, now a bit worse for wear, but it looked exactly the same as ones she saw people listening to on the train every day.

She hadn't dared charge the thing to find out if it still worked, afraid it might blow something up. She wasn't rich enough to go out and buy another computer, not like this incredibly wealthy man she had come to see

No, I'm not, Sandy thought, turning away from the information board. I must have rocks in my head if I think this guy is going to be the same person my great great aunt wrote about in her book.

She made him up. She had to have. Men like that don't exist in real life.

Then what of the iPod and the phone? What about all the other things Cassandra had known about the future, such as Queen Elizabeth being on the throne instead of Queen Victoria? She could only have gained that knowledge from having seen present-day currency.

Sandy couldn't go ahead and try to get the book published, even using fictitious names, if this man really had travelled back in time. She had to run it by him first, find out if any of it was true

He'll just think I'm nuts. There is no such thing as time travel, she told herself, as she slowly began to walk back across the wide tiled foyer.

People came and went around her, business people in suits, shiny high heels and immaculate hair-dos. Sandy in her long tie-dyed gypsy skirt, plain black top and long wavy blonde hair just didn't fit in. But to wear a short pencil-skirt and a power-suit felt all wrong to her. She was used to comfortable nurse's shoes, so the low-heeled black gladiator sandals were her only concession to the current fashion. A touch of lipstick, a pair of small hooped earrings and a silver chain with a Celtic cross dangling from it completed the ensemble

Her great great aunt had described a tall, handsome man with gorgeous green eyes and a mass of unruly red-gold hair, so much so that Sandy had become intrigued enough to want to find out if the image Cassandra had portrayed was real. She longed to see with her own eyes if he was as beautiful as the man she'd conjured up in her imagination

She'd even started dreaming about him, knowing full well it was because she'd been spending so much time on her own with only Cassandra's old book for company. Had she been at work, she wouldn't have had time to daydream about a time-travelling hunk who fell in love with his own great great grandmother. The entire notion was insane

Go home, Sandy, before you make a complete and utter goose out of yourself

People chatting loudly in another language behind her brought her back to reality, and she realized she was partially blocking the exit. She stepped aside to allow a group of dark-skinned men in business suits past. They were laughing and smiling, looking awfully pleased about something. One of them gave her the once over, no doubt because of her fair hair and bohemian attire. For some reason blonde woman fascinated men of darker races. He smiled at her and she quickly turned away

Sandy hadn't had much luck with men, and neither had her sisters or any of her friends. It seemed that forming a decent relationship was too much to ask in this day and age. She'd been on plenty of dates over the years, even gone steady for a few months, but as soon as they got to know one another well enough, things very quickly deteriorated because they wanted such markedly different things from a relationship

And then there was great great aunt Cassandra who'd found the perfect man, only to have him vanish into thin air, leaving her pregnant to raise her son on her own. She'd assumed he had returned to the future, but why then hadn't her original husband come back? If it hadn't been for her knowledge of the future, Sandy would have thought it all a construct of a lonely woman's mind

The only way to find out is to catch that lift up to the top floor and talk to him

Sandy retraced her steps and stood in front of the lift bank. She jabbed the button and waited. A lift opened and people stepped out, but Sandy remained rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Another lift opened, stood there empty for a moment and closed again.

When someone jostled her from behind, Sandy finally stepped into the lift that opened directly in front of her

The other person, a young man in a business suit, naturally, jabbed his finger against number six.

"Which one would you like?" he asked her politely

She glanced up at him. He gave her a wink and a small smile.

"Ah... number twenty-six," she murmured

"Going all the way, eh?" he remarked, thumbing the top button. "That's them building tycoons, isn't it?"

Sandy nodded. He must be thinking what the heck would a nurse in a gypsy skirt want with a building company? But he said no more, and got off the lift at his floor, an accountancy firm from what she saw of the logo though the closing doors

She had the lift to herself for the rest of the ascent, and swallowed nervously. I should have talked to someone about this, my grandmother at the very least, since she gave me the manuscript in the first place. She would have wanted to come with me, and I wouldn't have to do this on my own

Sandy's grandmother had only ever seen great aunt Cassandra a few times as a very old lady, so no one could tell Sandy what Cassandra had looked like as a young woman. There were no pictures and she hadn't described herself in her manuscript. But she had become a virtual legend, a champion for unwed mothers, whom she gave board and lodgings in her home until they could find work or other means of support. With the wealth of gold her father and brothers found in the river, she could afford to be magnanimous. Her son finally went on to start the business that put O'Shea's Building Enterprises on the map

The lift doors parted, revealing a large expanse of carpet, leading to a long reception counter, with the company logo embossed in gold on the wall behind it. Yep, just what she'd thought, Rich, influential, and I'm going straight back down again in this lift, she decided, as a woman approached her. The lift doors started closing, but the woman pressed the button so they reopened

"Are you getting out?" she asked Sandy, another immaculately groomed woman with a power suit, pencil skirt and heels

Sandy nodded and stepped out of her way and out of the lift. The other woman got in without giving Sandy a second glance and the door closed behind her. Sandy turned, contemplating pressing the button again to catch the next lift back down, but the receptionist had seen her.

"Can I help you?" she asked, peering at her from over the top of her mini-fortress. She had a sleek styled blonde bob and a white toothpaste smile. It made Sandy wonder how on earth anyone could get their hair that smooth without two hours at the hairdressers. This woman could probably afford to go every single day

Oh well, I'm here now, she thought. "I'd like to speak to Adrian O'Shea if he's available, please," she said politely

"Have you got an appointment?" the woman asked

"No, I haven't, but I won't take up much of his time."

"Well, the conference just finished, so I'll see if he's free. Who may I say is here?"

"Cassandra Cleary, but everyone just calls me Sandy."

"And your business?" she continued, picking up the phone

She would have to ask that, Sandy thought irritably. "Ah, I'd rather not say. It's kind of personal."

That elicited a reaction. The woman's eyes widened as she stared up at Sandy, but then she looked back down, and punched some numbers into the phone. "Why don't you take a seat Ms Cleary?"

Sandy wondered what on earth she'd said to elicit that kind of reaction. Maybe she thinks I'm a gold digger looking for a rich husband. As if! That was the last thing on Sandy's mind. Besides, their respective families had already done all the gold digging

"There's a young woman here to see you. She says her name is Sandy... Clancy I think it was."

Sandy scowled. She was obviously that insignificant on their mega-buck radar the receptionist couldn't even be bothered getting her surname right.

"You're in luck Ms Clancy. He said he'd be out in a few minutes."

"It's Cleary, actually," Sandy felt compelled to correct her, still not moving to take a seat. She felt too agitated to sit, but she set her satchel down beside one of the leather arm chairs.

"I'm sorry, Ms Cleary," the woman apologized

I just bet you are, Sandy thought, but didn't let it bother her. She would do what she'd come for, show him the old papers, and ask him if it was all right to approach a publisher with her version. Since she had everything backed up on her computer, she was prepared to leave them with him for his perusal. If he said no, that was all right with her too. She'd done what she'd set out to do. In two weeks she'd return to work as though nothing had happened

Sandy was peering down at a leafy, well cared for pot plant when she felt the air shift behind her.

Before she even had a chance to turn, a deep male voice spoke from behind her; "You asked the see me?" She swore she could feel his warm breath against her neck

Slowly she turned, and since she was only five foot four, she was confronted with a dark tie and crisp white shirt. She shifted her gaze upwards to his face, and felt her entire body go weak with recognition

He looked exactly how she'd imagined him. Wavy red-gold hair, a well-proportioned, masculine face, a wide passionate mouth, and fathomless green eyes that stared back at her in utter amazement. It seemed he was just as stunned by her as she was by him

"What did you say your name was?" he asked after a long tense moment

"Your receptionist got it wrong, My name is Sandy Cleary, well actually it's Cassandra after my great great aunt, who married your great great grandfather. So it would seem we're related, distantly I know, but my grandmother found this –"

He held up a hand, "Stop right there. Do you mind if we go somewhere else to discuss this?"

"Not at all," Sandy replied truthfully. Even if she got no more than ten minutes to stare into this guy's mesmerizing eyes, she'd die happy. Well, maybe that was pushing it a bit, but she'd come up here expecting to find it had all been a silly pipe dream, but he obviously knew exactly who and what she was talking about

He turned to the receptionist to tell her he'd be going out for a while.

Sandy picked up her bag and went to stand by the lifts to wait for him. He was tall with wide shoulders, so she knew he'd have a strong, muscular body underneath that immaculate suit of his. It reminded her of the part of the story where Cassandra had gotten him to dress up for the ball and how he'd protested so cutely about it, if it had really happened

He joined her and pressed the lift button. One arrived almost at once and they stepped inside. The space seemed so much more confined with his tall, imposing presence beside her. He didn't say another word to her all the way back down to the ground floor. It wasn't until they were half-way across the foyer that he turned to her

"There's a café a few doors down. Would you like something to eat and drink? We can discuss the matter there."

He even sounded old-fashioned, she thought. "Yes, that would be nice," she agreed

Since it was past morning tea time and the lunch crown hadn't hit the city streets yet, the café was virtually deserted.

Adrian found a quiet table down the back where he held out a chair for her. Taking the seat, Sandy sat and placed her satchel onto the carpet beside her. He accepted two menus from a hovering waitress as he took the seat opposite. Then he handed one of them to her. Sandy's mouth almost dropped open when she saw the prices

"Isn't this a bit expensive?" she murmured, wondering if she should just ask for a glass of water, particularly since she wasn't hungry anyway

"Apparently I can afford it," Adrian replied. "So order whatever your heart desires."

"Apparently?" she queried

"Never mind. I'll have a cappuccino and a slice of the banana bread, thanks," he told the waitress

"I'll just have a cappuccino," Sandy said

"Are you sure?" Adrian asked

"Yes, I'm sure," she replied and handed the waitress her menu

Once she had gone to attend to their orders, Adrian leant forward and said; "You look just like her, you know."

"Who?"

"Your great great aunt, Cassandra," he replied, sitting back again in his seat,

"Oh! Really? How do you know that?" she asked, knowing there could be one reason and one reason only. She saw him hesitate, as he realized just what he'd admitted to

"Tell me why you came," he asked

Damn, she thought. He wasn't going fall for it quite so easily, after all. She turned to open her satchel, pulling various folders out and placing them onto the table between them

"The Tomorrow Man," Adrian read out loud, on seeing the title of her version through the plastic cover

"Let me explain," she said. "Many years ago my grandmother found this in the attic of our house in Bathurst." She fingered the much sturdier folder containing the old papers. "I don't think anyone ever bothered to read it except me."

"May I?" he asked, sliding his hand forward to take hold of the other end. In doing so his long fingers brushed against hers, sending an electric current of awareness all the way up her arm.

She snatched her hand away, feeling heat rush to her face. "Of course."

She watched him open it and begin reading the small, neat handwriting. He squinted a few times, trying to make words out.

"I managed to interpret most of it. You might find it easier to read this version." She withdrew another folder

"No, just let me have a look at this," he replied, carefully turning the yellowed page over. When Sandy remembered how Cassandra had described those long tapered fingers caressing her, she felt her cheeks burn, wondering if she'd had any idea that her ancestors would one day read all about her loving future man

Sandy sat back to study him. With his head bowed over the papers, the longer hair at the front flopped attractively against his high forehead. Was it any wonder Cassandra had fallen hopelessly in love with him? She thought she saw his hand tremble as he turned another page

Just then the waitress returned with their cups of coffee, rattling in their saucers. Adrian held up a hand to prevent her from putting them down. He closed the old leather bound book, and then motioned for the waitress to set the cups down.

"May I borrow this?" he asked, as he moved it to his side of the table

"That was always my intention, since she was more closely related to you than she was to me," Sandy replied. "Do you want to take the typed copy as well?"

"Yes, thank you."

Sandy slid it across the table to him, feeling a little bereft by its loss

"So what is Tomorrow Man?" he asked, eying the third folder still sitting in front of her

"Um... that's my interpretation. The version I want to try and get published."

His hand immediately went out and he scooped it up. "I think I'd better take a look at this too." He peered inside. "You'll have to change the names for one. I'm not having my name bandied about within the pages of some corny romance novel."

Sandy instantly saw red, and it wasn't the colour of his hair. Why was it that men always looked down on women's fiction? "It's not corny," she snapped back. "And I fully intend changing the names. I just wanted to run it by you first."

He looked suitably chastened. "I appreciate that. I just never thought she'd write it all down."

"So it is true then?"

"Is what true?"

"Her story."

"I'll have to read it first, won't I?"

He was doing it again, refusing to admit to anything, but she supposed she couldn't really blame him. He probably thought people would consider him mad if he admitted to having travelled back in time, particularly if he was as wealthy as he looked

Sandy turned to rummage around in her bag. Finally she found what she was looking for, rolled up inside a top-sealing plastic bag.

"This was found with the old papers." She lay it down in the centre of the table

Adrian's gorgeous green eyes widened, and she knew she had him. He picked it up to cup in the palm of his hand. "Somehow I don't think it works anymore."

"It's yours isn't it?"

He nodded

"And you threw your mobile phone in the river, didn't you?"

Suddenly he smiled, and it took her breath away. The sparkle in his eyes made them look like twin pools of liquid gold.

"She had better not have written anything intimate in there," he muttered

"Well, she did, but it won't be going into my version. I made something else up. Used my imagination."

He eyed her curiously. "Not from your own experience then?"

This time she knew her face had turned bright red from the heat she felt rushing to her cheeks, and she looked down to study the chocolate sprinkles on the top of her coffee.

How could she admit that at twenty-six she'd never let a man go all the way, simply because none had ever meant enough to her to want to share something that intimate. All her friends thought she was asking too much, but Sandy would rather die a virgin than have sex simply for the sake of it

"How about you leave these with me, and I'll call you when I've finished reading them," Adrian suggested. "Then we can get together to discuss what we're going to do about it. How does that sound?"

Sandy nodded. "Okay."

"Now, why don't you drink your coffee before it gets cold."
Chapter Seventeen

Adrian returned to O'Shea's Building Enterprises armed with three heavy folders. As soon as he walked into the office, people began asking him about the pretty blonde woman who'd come to see him

"None of your business," he retorted, heading straight for the sanctuary of his office.

Before he got there his way was barred by Ian's wiry body. "Everyone's been going on about you taking off without a word with some cute blonde chick. Mind enlightening me?"

"Why the heck is this such a big deal?" Adrian demanded

"Because until now you've never so much as said boo to a woman outside of the business environment, let alone gone off with one for a private chat."

"Well that's about to change, since I plan on seeing a whole lot more of her from now on," Adrian asserted, and realized he didn't just have Ian's attention, but half the office as well. Stephanie, for one, was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Now he understood why his father had called him shy. In this lifetime he obviously had some serious personal issues. So maybe he shouldn't have made the quip about Sandy, but the way she'd looked at him the entire time they'd been together in the coffee shop had given as clear a signal as anything that she was just as interested in getting to know him as he was in her.

Something about his story had reeled her in, and Adrian couldn't wait to start reading it. She'd done something to him too, and not just because she looked so much like Cassandra. She also had Cassandra's character. Sandy was a warm and caring person, exactly the kind of woman Adrian was looking for. So if he couldn't have Cassandra, perhaps he'd been sent back to this version of life so he could meet Sandy. Adrian sincerely hoped so, because it would make the pain of it all a whole lot easier to bear

In his other life Cassandra had written children's stories, not her own life-story, leaving it for just the right person to find; Sandy, someone who would understand what it all meant. She had even returned his iPod to him. She could just as easily have gone ahead with her publication, but Adrian already knew her better than that

"Look, we finalized the big one, Dad, Unless there's anything else anyone wants me to do today, I'm going home," he announced

"No, you can go home if you like, but you'll have to catch the train since I'm not ready to leave yet."

"I don't care," Adrian replied. It meant he could begin reading on the way home

It was almost midnight when he finally finished Sandy's version of events, probably too late to ring her about it, but Adrian couldn't wait to discuss it with her. He had to talk to her now, this minute

He found her number and dialed it. She answered on the second ring, not sounding the least bit like he'd woken her

"I've finished reading everything, and I want to talk to you about it," he said without preamble

"Now?" she gasped

"Well..." he began

'All right. I don't need to get up early. I'll give you my address."

"Do you trust a strange man in your house in the wee hours of the morning?" he asked

"If you're anything like the Adrian in Cassandra's book, then I think you're trustworthy."

"Do you think I'm that man?"

"I know you're that man. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew." Even through the phone line he could hear the sincerity in her sweet voice. It sent a warm jolt of happiness coursing through his veins

"And I think you have more of Cassandra in you than your pretty face," he told her truthfully

"I could really identify with her which is why her story means so much to me. I'll just give you my address."

Adrian jotted it down. Luckily she didn't live too far away.

"I'll be there soon," he promised, and hung up.

A few minutes later he was standing in front of his open garage door, but instead of his battered old utility parked inside, he saw a gleaming silver Mercedes sports car

"How the heck can this guy be so shy?" he asked himself. "With a car like this, surely he'd have girls eating out of the palm of his hand. And what happened to the four-wheel drive Dad was going on about this morning?"

He probably owned both of them. Why wouldn't he if he was meant to be rich as sin? But Adrian didn't want money, wealth, and all the trappings that went with it. He just wanted Cassandra, or Sandy. Suppressing a heated shiver of anticipation, he wondered if she'd let him call her by her full name

There appeared to be at least three car keys attached to the key-ring he'd found on the hook near the front door. Obviously the one marked with the Mercedes logo was the one he'd be using tonight, but he noticed one for a Range Rover and a Ford, quite possibly a spare for his father's Falcon

Well this is going to be fun, Adrian mused as he eased himself into the low leather seat because his shoulder still troubled him.

He couldn't believe it had only been a day since he'd found the gold nugget. If things turned out as planned with Sandy, he'd consider it his good luck nugget, and have it put on a chain to wear around his neck. But first he'd take this snazzy new car for a spin

Adrian turned on the ignition, tuned into a radio station playing his kind of music, and backed the sports car out of the garage. Once he was on the main road, he tested its capabilities, arriving at the address Sandy had given him in next to no time

Bundling up the three manuscripts under his arm, he locked the car and headed up to the small semi-detached house. It looked old enough to have been around in the gold rush days, making him realize that Sandy definitely had a nostalgic steak by choosing to live in this quaint old home

She didn't live there alone though, because another woman answered the door, introducing herself as Sandy's flat-mate, Kiera

"All right, you can go to bed now that you've sated your curiosity," Sandy told the tall willowy brunette as she appeared behind her in to corridor. She was still wearing her long skirt and black top, but her small feet were bare

She looked so much like Cassandra in the dim light it made Adrian's heart contract with longing.

During the day, he'd seen the differences. Sandy's hair was darker, less curly, her eyes larger, her mouth fuller. She was also slightly taller, but it was uncanny how after so many generations another person could come along who looked so much like their ancestor.

Surely it had to mean they were meant to get together

"Okay. Okay. I'm going. I'm going," Kiera laughed, heading down the hall and disappearing into one of the rooms

"She's a fellow nurse, and a good friend, but right now I wish she'd go to bed because she has a six am start, and she'd going to wake up and tear the place apart because she a) can't find anything, and b) she feels like shit," Sandy explained, as Adrian followed her down the corridor and was shown into a small living room

"So you're a nurse. I never thought to ask what you did for a living," he replied, as she swept some magazines off the lounge so he could sit down. "Do you like your job?"

"Yes I love it. My family seemed to know from when I was very young that's what I'd be once I grew up. I tried to fight it for a while, but it must be in the blood. My mother was a nurse and my grandmother before me... Would you like a drink? Coffee since it's so late."

Adrian shook his head, placing all the folders onto the coffee table in front of him

Sandy sat down on the other end of the lounge. "I can't believe you've finished it already," she remarked,

"I'm a bit of a speed reader, but I certainly didn't skip the important bits. Did you really have to put that love scene in there though? It didn't happen like that at all."

She wasn't looking at him when she said; "Then how did it happen? If you enlighten me I might be able to rewrite it."

Adrian leant towards her and said; "I could always show you how it went."

She looked up briefly, shifted in her seat, and let her gaze drop away again. "Um... well... that might not be – "

"Maybe later when we know each other better, eh?" he said, letting her of the hook

"Oh, you're a rat," she cried, picking up a magazine to swat him with it

"I do want to get to know you better though," he continued. "There's a connection between us, going back a long long way, and I don't think we should ignore it."

She stared back at him wide eyed, licked her lips and swallowed. "You're probably right, but I'm a very private person."

"If you don't go out with him at least once, I'll make sure you get every graveyard shift from here till doomsday," Kiera said from outside the doorway

"Hey, quit snooping," Sandy yelled

"Sorry, I was just on my way to the bathroom. I'm going now," Kiera called from further down the corridor

"That's nothing compared to what I copped when I got back from coffee with you this morning," Adrian told her

"I would have thought a rich, good-looking guy like you would have girlfriends coming out of the woodwork."

Adrian felt just a hint of the shyness they were all accusing him of when he said; "This is not the life I left when I travelled back in time. In my previous reality I was virtually bankrupt, thanks to my brother, who also pinched my fience."

"Really?"

He thought he saw sympathy cross her face. "My mother became a paraplegic from a car accident, and my father gave up his share of the business to look after her... But I believe this changed everything." Adrian stuck his hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out the gold nugget for her to see.

He cupped it in the palm of his hand. "In her story Cassandra wrote that she thought I wasn't meant to find any gold, but in my past, she never wrote that story. She wrote children's books. I don't suppose you found any of those?"

She shook her head, her eyes still riveted on the gleaming nugget sitting in the palm of his hand

"Obviously I changed history because a man called Edmonds was supposed to find the gold. I knew when it was meant to happen and charged in there ahead of him, almost getting myself killed in the process. So it seems the gold went to our families instead of Edmonds."

He turned the nugget over and over in his fingers, studying its various facets

"Can I hold it?" she asked suddenly

"On one condition."

Sandy raised her brows. "What's that?"

"You let me kiss you."

She extended her hand and smiled, so Adrian placed the nugget into her palm with one hand, and curled her fingers around it with his other. Still holding her warm, soft hand in his, he leant towards her and touched his lips to hers.

It felt exactly like kissing Cassandra, warm, sensual, and totally intoxicating

She shifted closer and brought her other hand up to rest against his shoulder, making him realize that she wanted this kiss as much as he did

With a deep sigh, Adrian deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue between her soft, warm lips. She met it with her own, and he kissed her so deeply he thought he'd melt into her, drown in her, as the fire of desire raced like wildfire through his body

But then she drew away, leaving him feeling bereft and breathless

"It's just like she described it. You're just like she described it," she murmured in awe

"Let me into your life, Sandy," he urged

She experienced a moment of unease, and said; "You're not just saying that because I look so much like her, are you?"

He leant his forehead against hers. "I know I will never see her again, but I also know you want to get to know me better."

"You're right Adrian, I do," she admitted, touching the side of his face.

Then she leant forward to kiss him again. "And you can call me Cassandra."

"Cassandra," he whispered tenderly against her lips. "My beautiful Cassandra."

THE END
Author's Note

There were two main gold mining sites near Bathurst during the gold rush of the 1850s, Sofala and Hill End. Both became thriving towns for the duration of the gold rush, but quickly deteriorated into virtual ghost towns afterwards.

The Edmonds site and the O'Shea property are entirely fictitious, but small specks of gold can still be found in the river. Sofala and Hill End are now historical sites frequented by tourists
If you enjoyed this book by Emma Daniels, you might also enjoy "Lord of my Dreams", another time travel romance

When Drew Regent goes to the gallows in 1509 the Gods hand his soul to a denizen named Demeana, with the condition that every 100 years he be returned to Earth for one month to redeem himself by finding love. But after five hundred years at Demeana's mercy his memory is as scarred as his body.

So when Demeana drops him in the path of Caitlin and Maddie's car in the year 2009, all three of them are in for more than anyone bargained for.

On the night Caitlin O'Keefe meets Drew she begins dreaming about a woman called Catherine Byron, whose parents are negotiating her marriage to the eldest son of the cruel Lord Regent in Tudor England. Little does she know that Demeana had sent a Dream Catcher to bring her Caitlin's dreams, firmly believing that when Caitlin discovers how Catherine died, Drew will fail yet again, and Demeana will be able to destroy him at last

Recovering from an abusive relationship, the last thing Caitlin wants is to get involved with another man, but she can't help being drawn to Drew, whose whole future existence is now in her hands.
Prologue

The demon stood in the middle of her dimly lit cavern, slowly licking blood from her dagger. When she didn't move, she looked just like a mortal woman, an exceptionally beautiful woman, with shimmering silver-blonde tresses reaching all the way to her waist, a perfectly curved body and neat, feminine features. But as soon as she started moving, her true form shifted beneath the illusion; green scales, long black talons, a beaky wrinkled snout, and fathomless black eyes that gleamed with unnatural hunger

She loved to torment her victims with her stunning human visage, standing seductively before them with large firm breasts, a slender waist, shapely hips and endlessly long legs. And it was so easy to do, because they were gifts from Femilla, the Goddess of Womankind.

They were all men who at the time of their deaths the Gods had judged and found guilty of grossly mistreating women. Femilla sent Demeana rapists, wife bashers, and child molesters, sick twisted individuals who fully deserved every cruel and degrading punishment that Demeana dished out

There were so many crimes, and so many ways to see out eternity. Few humans ever went to the one true God to become an Angel. Most ended up somewhere in between, where their afterworlds were as mixed with pleasure and pain as their mortal lives had been

But Demeana's victims suffered more than most. Only Satan could exact greater punishment, and one had to be truly evil to end up in his bottomless pit of despair. At least Femilla sometimes allowed Demeana's victims back into the mortal realm for a chance at redemption.

This was what was about to happen to the naked man chained to the wall before her.

Even filthy and covered in cuts from her sharp shiny dagger, he was an impressive specimen, all lean sinew and muscle, his human existence having ended in the prime of his life. For some reason the majority of the men sent to her were old, ugly and so nauseatingly weak, they would scream and beg for mercy before she'd even made the first cut

But not this one.

In all the centuries she'd been punishing him, he had never begged for mercy, never cried. Oh, she saw the pain etched in his features and his haunted blue eyes, when she could get him to look at her that was. He wasn't immune, but he seemed to possess an incredible inner strength to be able to keep it all to himself.

Actually, he was starting to bore her, but still she persisted, hoping that one day he'd cry and beg like all the others. He'd lasted longer than most too, probably because she tended to leave him alone to languish in his putrid dark cell most of the time. But she'd decided to have one last play with him before Femilla arrived to send him back to earth

Demeana didn't know why the Goddess bothered. He always returned at the end of his month, once again having failed in his task to... what was it...? oh yes, to fall in love and have that love returned.

In all her millennia of existence Demeana didn't know of one single soul who'd earned that kind of penance. Apart from the fact so few of the dammed were let out at all, should they be returned to earth, they were required to serve women unquestioningly, to show kindness they never had in their mortal lives, to look but not touch. Most erred within the first few hours of their release. And not one had ever been granted their freedom

How many times had she cut him, whipped him, killed him, and brought him back to life? She really could not recall. But still he lingered, his soul struggling to exist within a body that had been broken more times than she cared to count. And his soul would be tastier than most, having clung to life for so long within his mutilated body. Oh, to be able to take him now before her Goddess arrived to return him to the mortal realm. To get one up on the Gods was rare and immensely satisfying. So with one hand, she lifted his chin, her touch almost tender as she leant in close, and with the other plunged her blade deep into his gut

She felt him strain against his bonds, and suck in his breath against the pain. But still he refused to open his eyes, to acknowledge her in any way through the matted tangle of long hair she thought might have once been blonde

Demeana yanked the blade out with a sickening squelch, and he slumped against his bonds.

She slapped him hard across the face. "You're going to have to give up one day, sweetheart," she snarled at him

"But not today," he gritted out, as the blood poured from the gaping wound in his stomach

A reaction at last, she thought with grim satisfaction. But just as she was about the stick the knife in again, a blinding flash of light pulsed through the dim, dank cavern, momentarily blinding her and her bleeding victim

"Oh Demeana, what a mess," a familiar and beautiful voice echoed about them.

Demeana turned to see her Goddess standing behind her. With great reluctance she bowed low, sliding the still bloody knife into the folds of a black robe she conjured about her shoulders. "Your Holiness. I welcome you," she said blandly

Femilla was by far the most beautiful of the Gods. Her bright red hair flowed in shimmering waves about her fair shoulders. She had perfect features and the most loving ocean-green eyes imaginable.

She made Demeana want to puke.

Femilla wore a strapless white gown that shimmered about her voluptuous body. Unlike Demeana who preferred to wear the image that turned men on, Femilla embodied motherliness, all lush curves and tender-heartedness. She was always sweet smiles, except when she dammed those she sent to Demeana. Then a deep sadness furrowed her fair brow and clouded her beautiful eyes

"Unchain him. Clean him up," Femilla commanded. "His hundred years is up."

Demeana did as ordered. She pointed a long black talon at the right cuff around the man's wrist, and it sprung open with a loud clunk. His bloodied arm dropped to his side. She undid the other cuff, thus freeing his other arm. Once she'd released those around his chaffed ankles, he dropped to the ground, crouching on all fours like the pathetic creature he was

Demeana's idea of cleaning him was getting another of her battered slaves to douse him with a bucket of cold water

"Heal his wounds," Femilla ordered from beside her. "We can't have him returning to Earth looking like that."

Demeana did the bare minimum to undo her handiwork. She waved her fingers over him, and all her most recent cuts and abrasions vanished, but one bucket of cold water wasn't anywhere near enough to erase a hundred years of grime

He was still dirty, bruised and scarred

Femilla stepped up to the man, gripped hold of his tangled hair, lifting his head towards her, revealing a hard, grim face as filthy as the rest of him.

"You have one month to redeem yourself," she reminded him. "Fail again and you'll be returned here, and by the look of you, you won't make it through the next hundred years of internment. You will die here and Demeana will feast on your pathetic soul." She turned to Demeana. "Now send him on his way and bring in the next one."

Demeana waved her clawed hands over the hunched man, and he vanished from the cold cavern floor
Chapter One

Even though the pain was gone, he still felt stiff, confused and cold, the reason for which became obvious almost immediately.

He found himself sprawled on a craggy surface much like rock, and his breath misted in front of his face when he exhaled. It was probably close to zero degrees but had they bothered giving him any clothes? No! It wasn't in the nature of Demons or Gods to be generous, not unless one had earned it, and it was obvious he'd earned nothing of the sort

What he'd done to deserve his centuries of penance he had long since forgotten. He vaguely recalled his first death, a noose around his throat, tightening until he couldn't breathe and his neck snapped. A punishment, he knew, was only meted out to those guilty of the most heinous of crimes.

His name? He'd tried so hard to hold onto that, but even it had slipped from his consciousness after five hundred years of torment. He'd been called a lot of things in that time, not many of them nice

Returning to life always left him feeling like this, weak, nauseous and disoriented. But right now the cold bothered him the most. Trust them to return him to a place on the threshold of winter with nothing to wear

He tried to get up off the cold, rugged surface so he could at least look around and get his bearings, but his head spun sickeningly as soon as he attempted to lift it from the ground. He collapsed again, and felt the rough, cold surface scrape against his bruised and battered skin. He knew it probably looked as bad as it felt, but he had no desire to gaze down upon the demon's handiwork. His stomach still ached from her most recent stabbing

Night was fast approaching, the last of the sun's rays dipping over the horizon, leaving lovely shades of red and gold in its wake

Oh, to see the sunset again, he thought in wonder, the cold momentarily forgotten. He lay there watching the vibrant colors slowly fade from the sky. But when he started to shiver, he decided to try and get up again.

The man finally managed to sit up, but his head still spun and his teeth chattered. It was now almost completely dark, but he could still see enough to make out that he was sitting in the middle of a long black strip with white lines running down the middle of it

He deduced it was probably a road, cutting though rolling hills dotted with trees, not a single house in sight. This would make finding something to wear that much more difficult

The last time they had released him had been 1909, but he recalled so little of it now. All those years of torture had addled his mind, and he was sure he wasn't completely sane any more. He certainly hadn't achieved the goal they had set him back in 1509.

Find love they said.

What was love?

Oh, he knew in theory what it was, but if he'd ever felt anything like it, he'd long since forgotten, along with so much of his former mortal life that had so brutally ended in 1509 at the end of a rope. But he did know that the longer he spent back on earth, the more memories returned from his previous visits, so perhaps that would help him sort out what he had to do, unless of course, he froze to death first

He wrapped his arms around his shivering body and drew his knees up to his chest in a vain attempt to retain some of his quickly evaporating body heat.

In the distance he saw a light twinkling, and wondered if it could be a homestead, and how on earth he was going to make it that far, the state he was in

As he continued to watch the light, it grow brighter and clearer. It was coming his way, he realized, so perhaps it was a carriage with a lantern on board, or one of those new fangled automobiles he now recalled seeing in 1909. That had been his mistake last time; he'd spent so much time marveling at and studying all the new inventions that he'd forgotten why he was there in the first place

Now it was probably 2009. What new inventions had they come up with over the last hundred years? he wondered, as the light grew ever brighter

As it neared, it divided into two lights. Yes it was definitely coming towards him, and he could hear it making a kind of humming noise, not like the noisy put put of the horseless carriages of a hundred years ago

He had to shield his eyes to the ever increasing brightness, and suddenly a God-awful screech rent the air, as the conveyance came to a halt several feet away

Caitlin O'Keefe was leaning between the two front seats, trying to reach her jacket lying across the back seat when her friend, Maddie Marshall, swore poisonously and planted her foot on the brake, making the car swerve and screech across the road till it come to a shuddering halt

The impromptu stop jerked Caitlin back into her seat with a painful wrench across her shoulders.

"What? Another dumb roo?" she asked in exasperation. Reaching round, she massaged the sore spot behind her shoulder blade

"No, Cait. Will you look at that?" Maddie pointed a shaking finger at the windscreen. "Tell me I'm not seeing things."

Caitlin looked first at her friend, and then followed her pointing finger tipped with a hot pink nail, her own eyes widening in amazement at the sight of a totally naked man in the middle of the road. Luckily, with the way he was sitting, they weren't confronted with his private parts. "Aw hell! It must be close to zero out there. What on earth is the guy thinking?"

"Um, I don't think he's been doing much thinking. What do you reckon we should do? I'm all for driving around him and getting the hell out of here. Nude men on deserted country roads spell trouble as far as I'm concerned."

Staring like a stunned rabbit into the glare of the headlights of Maddie's car, the naked man made no move to get out of their way

"Maybe's he's hurt," Caitlin mused, the only reason she could think of as to why he was there in the first place. Perhaps someone had thrown him out of their car, since she couldn't see any other vehicles in the vicinity, but it was now so dark on either side of the road, he could have driven off the shoulder down into the ditch. However, that still didn't explain his state of undress.

She glanced at her friend. Madeline was a slender willowy blonde in her early thirties. Caitlin on the other hand was short and prone to plumpness, something she suffered from now. She'd never worn size fourteen clothes in her life, but she'd had to buy a whole new wardrobe before coming to stay with Maddie at her folks' place in the country

Caitlin and Maddie had been friends since university where they had both studied teaching, but neither of them worked in that field now. Maddie had moved into IT and Caitlin was in between jobs, trying to decide what to do next

Maddie was getting married in a few months, and Caitlin was to be her maid of honor, again. This was Maddie's second marriage, and probably sixth serious relationship.

Caitlin on the other hand had only been in love once, and hurt so badly, she didn't want to even look at another man, let alone go out with one.

Except now she was definitely looking at one in all his naked glory. From what she could see of him, he appeared to be pretty well built, with strong muscular arms, wide shoulders and long sinewy legs. There seemed to be something wrong with his skin though, perhaps a rash, or burns, she couldn't be sure from this distance, and didn't fancy getting any closer to find out

"Do you want to go and see if he's hurt?" Maddie asked

Caitlin had never been one to let an injured person or animal lie, but that was before she'd been used and abused by Jason Drake. Hurt animals were one thing, naked men on deserted highways something else entirely

"No, do you?" she retorted. "You're the one who said to keep driving. Maybe someone else will come along and help him." She glanced up and down the road, but couldn't see a light anywhere, which wasn't unusual along this particular stretch. It didn't really go anywhere except to a dead end past Maddie's folks' hobby farm. It had once been a dairy, but since the drought the Marshalls had sold off the cattle, making ends meet through their pensions and what Maddie's brother, Hugh, brought in as a retailer in town. Maddie's parents were currently away on a well earned holiday up the north coast.

"Maybe if we get out together," Maddie suggested. "I've got my umbrella in my side door. That should cause a bit of a dent if he tries anything. What about you?"

"Damn, I left my cricket bat in my other pants... Keys," Caitlin decided at last. "I could poke him in the eyes with my keys if need be." She reached over the back and grabbed her jacket. She slipped it on, rummaged around in her bag, and stuck the keys into her pocket

"All right, are we armed and dangerous?" Maddie asked, thumping her umbrella against her palm

"As armed and dangerous as we'll ever be. Opening my door now," Caitlin said. As soon as she had it ajar, cold winter air wafted inside.

"Maybe one of us should grab the picnic blanket from the boot to cover him with. The guy must be freezing, unless of course he's too drunk or stoned to notice," Maddie remarked.

"Are winter night's always this cold in the mountains?" Caitlin asked with a shiver

"Yep. Wait until dawn. Frost to scrape off the windscreen and all." Maddie hit the boot release and then opened her door.

They both got out of the car

"Why didn't you warn me? We could have gone north with your folks." Caitlin's teeth were already chattering

"With what? I for one am saving every penny for the wedding, and you're probably not going back to work till next year. Besides, the homestead is centrally heated, and the days are still quiet pleasant. Don't forget the spa and the sun deck."

Maddie went around to the back of the car and rummaged around in the boot. She held up the picnic blanket. "Somehow I don't think this is going to be enough to cover him."

"You don't have anything of Hugh's in the car?"

"Why would I? It's my car, not his."

"All right. Let's get this over and done with," Caitlin muttered, her breath misting in front of her face

Maddie slammed the boot closed, and joined Caitlin

The two women walked side by side away from the car, Maddie holding the blanket in one hand and the umbrella in the other. Caitlin pulled her keys out of her parka pocket and stuck the car key, the longest and most deadly looking, between her fingers.

She had left her old bomb at home, knowing it probably wouldn't have handled the trip west. Maddie's parents had left one of their cars behind, which her friend said she could use if she wanted to go into town or do any sight seeing on her own. Caitlin wasn't sure how she was going to spend the next two weeks; she was merely glad that all her heartache was over at last

Her boyfriend had gone to prison for raping a teenage girl, one of his many crimes against women. He'd psychologically abused Caitlin in the two years they'd been together. Maddie had tried to get her out of the relationship several times, but Jason had always pleaded for her to take him back, telling her he'd changed, that he'd treat her right from now on. Of course his promises never lasted. Within weeks he'd been back to his abusive manipulative self

That poor teenage girl had in effect saved Caitlin from Jason. Even though their relationship had ended more than twelve months ago, the court case only took place three weeks ago. It had brought all the pain and trauma back, so that Caitlin almost felt as though she was right back where she'd started.

The evil glares he'd aimed at her across the court room had been enough to chill her to the core. As far as she was concerned, he deserved everything he got in prison

The two women stopped a few feet away from the naked man, both aware of him watching them through an untidy curtain of long hair that obscured most of his face. They glanced at one another. Now what? their eyes asked

"Give him the blanket," Caitlin suggested.

She could tell Maddie didn't want to leave her side, so she threw the blanked towards him. It fell onto the ground beside him, and he reached out and picked it up. Caitlin could see his hands trembling as he awkwardly dragged it over his shivering shoulders

"Are you hurt?" she finally asked

Pulling the blanket together, the man hunched further into himself

"Maybe he doesn't speak English," Maddie muttered, as he peered back up at them. "English? Do you speak English?"

Caitlin thought she detected a faint nod of his head, but by this time she was getting annoyed, not only by the cold, but by the entire situation. They should have been almost at the farm by now, not standing the middle of the road dealing with some lunatic in the nude.

"Well, say something then," Caitlin snapped. "What the Hell are you doing out here in the cold and the middle of nowhere with nothing to wear?"

"Demeana... left me... here," he said haltingly in a deep raspy voice

"What?" Caitlin gasped

Who?" Maddie asked. "Is she your girlfriend? Some sense of humor she's got."

The man obviously had nothing to say to that

"How long would it take for the police to get here?" Caitlin asked, rummaging around in her jeans pocket for her mobile phone

"Too bloody long," Maddie muttered. "I don't know if your phone's going to work out here. Mine never does."

Caitlin flipped it open and held it out into the headlights. "Oh great!" she muttered. "Two bars. Yep, mine's not going to connect either. So what are we going to do about him?" she motioned to the man

"Help me up... please?" he said in that same hoarse voice, as though he had a sore throat. "Always hard... after so long... in her chains."

"This Demeana of yours sounds like one really charming lady?" Maddie remarked dryly

"She's no lady... She's a demon," he ground out

"I'd be dropping her like a ton of bricks, if I were you, pal," Maddie asserted

"Maybe he's right into that kinky stuff," Caitlin said. "I mean she dropped him off here in the buff. God knows what they were doing before that. I'm out of here, Mads. I'm scared."

"Don't... be afraid. I... will not hurt you," the man rasped. He extended a trembling hand towards them. "Please?"

Caitlin doubted she had ever heard Jason say the word 'please,' which was probably why she felt a wave of sympathy wash thought her at the tone of this man's beseeching, rusty sounding voice

"If you promise you're not going to try anything, we'll help you up. We might even drive you to the police station,' Maddie said

"No police," he objected, dropping his arm. He tucked it back under the blanket

Caitlin and Maddie exchanged glances

"Why not?" Caitlin demanded, fingering her keys. They glistened against the headlights, and she saw the man cringe even further into himself. From his angle it might have looked like a small blade

"Yeah, I have a knife here, so if you try anything, you'll regret it," she said with bravado she didn't feel

"No... no... more cuts."

The way he pleaded with her swamped Caitlin with even more sympathy. She knew without a doubt that someone must have taken a knife to him at some stage. He looked like he'd been to hell and back again, haunted beyond endurance, his mouth trembling from a mixture of cold and dread. She felt almost guilty for threatening him with her car key. As if he'd try anything, shivering with cold, apparently unable to even get up without their help

Caitlin stuck the set of keys back into her pocket. "All right, lets get him up," she said to her friend

"Well, if you're sure," Maddie hedged

"He said he wouldn't hurt us," Caitlin asserted

"And look where it got you last time a man said that to you," Maddie muttered, but Caitlin was already standing beside him. "Still the same old softie you always were." But she followed Caitlin's lead, and went to take hold of his other arm. The blanket slipped as they tugged and he tried to get his feet under him

"Man, he weighs half a bloody ton," Maddie swore, as they struggled and he swayed, but eventually they had him on his feet.

Caitlin tried to move the blanket over him so that she wouldn't accidentally get an eyeful of his privates. Maddie had been right; it wasn't nearly enough to cover him. So she made sure she averted her gaze instead. He was almost a head taller than her, and even her willowy friend seemed short in comparison. He didn't smell particularly clean either, like he'd been crawling around in the bush for hours before they'd come along

When he tried to take a step, his legs buckled under him, and it took the combined effort of both women to keep him on his feet

"Are you sure you're not drunk?" Maddie asked

The man slowly shook his tousled head.

"I can't smell any alcohol on him, and I should know since Jason swam in the stuff," Caitlin asserted. "He just smells dirty."

"Well I don't really want him messing up the back of my car."

"I don't think we have any choice. We can't leave him here to get frostbite and hypothermia while we wait for another car to come along. We could put the blanket under him, and I'll see if one of my jumpers will fit him. We might even get him into my track pants."

"That I'd like to see," Maddie snorted

"I've put on weight lately in case you haven't noticed and had to buy some bigger clothes."

"I always did think you were too thin."

"According to the media no woman can ever be too thin," Caitlin muttered. "Do you think you can try to take another step now?" she asked the man who was still leaning heavily against her

He gave a single nod, and this time managed to walk slowly, but unsteadily to the car with their support

Maddie opened the back door, and then went to unlock the boot so that Caitlin could go through her travel bag

"Reckon you'll be all right here for a moment. Just lean against the car for support if you need to," Caitlin suggested

He nodded again. Not a man of many words, she mused absently, as she left his side to join Maddie at the back of the car

Maddie leant towards her and whispered. "Did you see his equipment?"

"His what?"

Maddie rolled her eyes.

Realizing what her friend was referring to, she said; "No, I was trying not to."

"Prude! He's pretty well hung, I can tell you."

"Hey, you're getting married in two months. What's Eric going to say when he finds out you've been eying off other bloke's what-nots?"

"I'm still allowed to look, aren't I?"

"Look, but don't touch. He's filthy."

"And you want him in your pants?" Maddie giggled as Caitlin pulled out a pair of black track pants

"Oh hardy har har. I'll probably have to throw these out afterwards. Luckily they were on sale." She also withdrew a large sleep-shirt with a cute teddy on it and a smock type jumper, since the flowing layered look was in

"You're going to put him in a teddy nightie?" Maddie laughed

"Well, it's the only thing that looks big enough. You'd better lend me one of yours when we get there, as that's only one of two I bought along."

"Don't worry. Mum's about your size. She won't mind. He can have a wash and get changed at the homestead."

"So we're taking him with us?" Caitlin asked with raised brows

"Yes, unless you want to drive all the way back to town. We're closer to my folks place, and he doesn't even seem to be able to put one foot in front of the other. What harm could he be?"

"Which begs the question, what on earth is wrong with him? He looks as strong as an ox."

Caitlin returned to the man who had leant his elbows against the roof, pillowing his head on his forearms

"Here you go. Put these on. They should keep you warm until we get there. Maddie has decided to take you with us back to her folks homestead. Her brother or father should have some clothes that will fit you better when we get there," she explained

He lifted his tousled head. "Thank you," he said, as she handed him the track pants. Once again she averted her eyes as he tried to put them on, but he appeared to be having some difficulty. "Can you help me?"

Caitlin looked down and saw that he had a foot through one of the legs, but was still too unsteady to get his other foot through the corresponding leg

Since Maddie was now climbing into the car, no doubt in a hurry to get out of the cold, it was left up to Caitlin to help the stranger dress himself

"Oh brother," she muttered under her breath. How do I do this without getting an eye-full of his equipment? What corny romance novel did Maddie get that out of anyhow? she thought with wry amusement.

"Are you sure you can't do this yourself?" she asked in exasperation

"I can see what's bothering you." Despite the cold he pulled the blanket from his shoulders and secured it clumsily around his chest so that it covered him to the middle of his thighs. It was pretty gloomy here out of the headlight's glare, so she doubted she'd have gotten a really good look anyway, but she appreciated his belated show of modesty

Caitlin bent down and he lifted his foot so she could slip the other leg of the pants on. She gasped in horror when she caught sight of all the scarring about his ankle. What on earth could have caused that? she wondered, as she pulled the pants up to his knees, careful not to touch him in any way.

When she got them to the bottom of the blanket she stepped back "I'm sure you can do the rest now."

When he had the pants pulled all the way up she handed him the nightshirt. He didn't even blink an eye when he unfolded it. Perhaps he hadn't noticed the teddy, or was too cold to care. As he let the blanket slip, Caitlin caught it off him, and laid it across the back seat like Maddie had suggested

When she glanced back at him, she saw him struggling with the top. Once again she had to help him. She took it from him and held it so he could more easily get his arms though the sleeves, which was when she saw similar scarring on his shoulders

"My God!" she gasped, and pulled the shirt away from him, leaning around him to look at his back.

What she saw horrified her. Despite the grime that appeared to coat him like a second skin, he was covered in long scars and scabs that criss-crossed his back over and over again. The man looked like he'd been whipped or cut many many times. She suspected they'd look a whole lot worse once he'd had a wash

"Who did this to you?" she asked in a horrified whisper

"Demeana," he said simply, yanking the shirt from her. It made him stumble as he was still weak and disoriented, so Caitlin reached out to try and steady him, grabbing hold of his wrist, which she noticed was just as chaffed raw as his ankles. Rough scars and scabs felt like a crinkled piece of sandpaper beneath her palm. Quickly she let his arm go, suspecting touching him there probably hurt

"What kind of a sick woman is she? She should be reported for this. It you don't do it, I will."

Had she kept him chained up in a cellar, or something? What else could explain such a well build man ending up in such a state? They didn't look like new cuts either. More like months' worth. Not even Jason deserved such treatment, she thought. Well maybe just a little

The man merely shook his head at her, before it disappeared inside the shirt. As he yanked it down over his chest, Caitlin saw more scars, and even a deep gash on his stomach, before he started tucking it into the waistband of the track pants.

Finally she handed him the yellow jumper. Once again he required help to get it on because he seemed to get lost inside it until she pulled it over his head

"All right. Why don't you get into the car now," she said, motioning to the back seat.

The whole vehicle seemed to rock when he collapsed inside. When he didn't reach for the handle to pull the door closed, she did it for him. Geez, what did your last slave die of, she thought grumpily. I give you my clothes to wear. I even help you dress, and you can't even... but then she decided to cut him some slack. He was probably still feeling unwell, considering he'd hardly been able to walk a straight line, so she got back into the front seat as Maddie started the ignition

"And thanks for your help," Caitlin shot at her. "You were the one happy to look before. Why couldn't you have helped him dress?"

"You seemed to be doing just fine on your own. Besides, I'm getting married, remember?" she reminded her as she put the car into gear
Chapter Two

To finally be warm again was sheer, unadulterated bliss. After sleeping on a rocky cavern floor for as long as he could remember, feeling a comfortable surface underneath him was heaven. He leant his head back against the soft seat and sighed deeply with relief as the heat thawed his frozen toes.

This automobile, or car as the women called it, was nothing like those of a hundred years ago. Apart from the fact it had its own heat source, it moved so fast. It amazed him that it could shoot such powerful beams of light out into the darkness so they could see where they were going. And what were all those tiny glowing dials around the steering-wheel for? The blonde woman seemed to maneuver it with such ease. He felt hardly any bumps at all as they sped through the night

It made him wonder how the biplane had fared after the Wright brothers' first attempt at flight. Yes, it was all coming back to him now. They had invented electricity to light their homes, and wireless transmissions so one could communicate over great distances.

The red-haired woman turning in her seat to glance at him drew his attention from his muddled musings. "Maybe we should introduce ourselves. I'm Caitlin, and this is my friend Maddie. And you are?"

He searched his mind, but his name remained buried beneath centuries of abuse. "I cannot recall... I do not know," he said at last, with a small, uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders

Caitlin glanced at her friend. "Do you think that's his problem? He's lost his memory?"

"He remembered his charming friend Demeana's name," Maddie reminded her. "So how could he have forgotten his own?"

"Maybe she beat it out of him. He's been really badly cut up."

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked

"When I was helping him dress, I noticed a lot of scars from some pretty vicious cuts on his shoulders and back."

"Oh man, what have we gotten ourselves into here," Maddie muttered

"I will not hurt you," he said quietly, still finding it difficult to speak after so many years of silence. When he first returned to the darkness after his month of freedom he would entertain himself with songs, poems and stories he'd heard whilst back in the world, but after a while even that became too much of an effort, and he just tried to sleep as much as possible in between Demeana's torture sessions.

"I know what it is to suffer pain, and would never inflict it upon another." But maybe you did, a snide little voice taunted inside his head. Perhaps that was why he'd ended up at Demeana's mercy in the first place, because he'd been such a vicious and vile barbarian in his mortal life he deserved everything he got. But I'd never do it now, he told himself. These women went out of their way to help me, he thought, even though it was obvious I frightened them with my nakedness and my dirtiness. So I must find some way to repay them for their kindness

"You'd better not," Maddie reminded him. "Caitlin here has had enough of abusive men to last a lifetime, and my brother's not exactly a push over. His name's Hugh, by the way. He'll be there waiting for us."

"Well, we have to call you something. Come on think. Are you sure you can't come up with a name?" Caitlin asked in a rather exasperated voice

Her tone shifted something in his mind, an echo of a woman's voice calling out a man's name. But as he tried to grasp hold of it, it wafted back into the ether of his subconscious. Or was he clutching at straws simply because he wanted to remember something of who he'd once been. Did it even matter after five hundred years?

Sadly he shook his head. "I thought I had something, but... 'tis gone."

"What was it? Maybe it's something we could work with," Caitlin suggested. "You know, three heads are better than one."

"Too faint to hear... It sounded like Du... No it's no good," he said with a sigh

"Maybe it's something that rhymes with Du," Maddie suggested. "Like Hugh, my brother's name."

"No it's not Hugh," he replied

"Thank goodness for that, one is bad enough," Maddie said with a giggle

"Come on, Hugh's all right... Or perhaps it starts with D. Duncan, Douglas." Caitlin suggested to which he merely shook his head. "All right what else rhymes with Du? I know, Drew, short for Andrew. If that doesn't ring any bells I'll call you Drew anyway. He looks like a Drew, don't you think, Mads?"

"Drew Regent!" He almost screamed out the words, and grabbed handfuls of his matted hair as memories avalanched his mind.

Lord Regent, the Earl of Eastwood, had had two sons, Andrew and Stephen. He'd been the elder, but from what he could recall, it hadn't done him much good. All he could remember doing was slaving his guts out to keep the old castle from falling to the ground, doing the earl's duties about the district because his father had become too feeble to do it himself, working to pay off his brother's debts as he squandered the family fortune in gaming houses and bordellos

Jealousy gnawed at his insides at the thought of his brother. Stephen had lived the good life, coming and going as he pleased. Perhaps he'd killed his selfish younger brother in the end, for Drew could think of no other reason for his death at the end of a rope. Hadn't nobility received the executioners axe rather than the gallows? What on earth had he done wrong, the son of a nobleman, to come to such a miserable end?

"That's your name? Drew Regent?" Maddie asked, jerking him back to the present

He nodded, suddenly feeling his mouth form into a smile, something else he hadn't done in a century, which was probably why it felt so alien. But he enjoyed the sensation, so he continued to grin long after his relief at finally remembering who he was had abated

"If I look like my name, then you look like yours," he said at last to Caitlin

"What's that supposed to mean?" she retorted

"Caitlin, Irish for Catherine," he said. "That lovely red hair, clear alabaster skin, and perfect ruby lips."

"I do believe the man's flirting with you, Cait," Maddie teased

Caitlin swatted her, but she'd never heard herself described in such a way before, and it did send a small thrill of pleasure through her. If he wasn't quite so dirty, or mad, she might even begin to like him. He had a deep, husky voice, with a precise British accent she found pleasing to the ear. He also had a strong muscular build. As for his face, she'd bet that was handsome too, once he brushed all that matted, filthy hair out of his eyes

"And a quick Irish temper to go with it," he added, which made her decide to retract her pervious thought, even though she knew it was true

"Yep, I can vouch for that. I've met the sharp end of that temper of hers," Maddie agreed, so Caitlin swatted her again. Maddie merely laughed

"So tell me, Caitlin, what's a Drew meant to look like?" Drew asked

"Other than dirty, disheveled and undressed," Maddie suggested with a wink at Caitlin

"Oh I don't know. Proud, noble, patient..." she said, glancing around at him again

"Tell him he's handsome. I'm sure that's what he wants to hear," Maddie said

"Maybe once he's had a bath or three," Caitlin retorted, annoyed that Maddie had picked up on her thoughts and put voice to them

"I am not like this through choice, I can assure you," Drew asserted

"He speaks like a toffee nosed Pom. Have you noticed that? He probably came out here on one of those working holiday visas, or something," Maddie said

"What's a Pom?" Drew asked

"You," Maddie retorted. "You know from mother England."

"You mean I'm no longer in England?"

Maddie slapped a hand against her thigh, and Caitlin muttered; "Oh brother."

"Then where am I?" he asked in all honesty. Every other time he'd been returned to his homeland. Why not this time?

"You're in Australia. New South Wales to be exact, about thirty kilometers west of Lithgow," Maddie said

"Just what was the last thing you remember?" Caitlin asked him

Drew shook his head, and frowned. "You really would not want to know that." Australia he mused. One of the colonies, he thought, if his perusal of a map of the world a hundred years ago was correct

"Why, did it involve something kinky with whips and chains?" Maddie suggested with a snigger

The vicious look he cast her didn't go unnoticed by either woman, and they fell silent, the two of them hurriedly returning their attention to the front of the car.

Caitlin suspected her friend's comment wasn't far off the mark, which was why he didn't find it the slightest bit amusing. Maddie really should have known better after what Caitlin had told her about his abrasions, but sometimes Maddie wasn't the most tactful person in the world

"Here we are. Home sweet home," Maddie announced, as she turned the car into a drive marked with two white fence posts and a matching letterbox to one side.

They wound their way around a grassy slope to a large single story wooden house fronted with a long verandah also painted white. Lights blazed both inside and out, and another car was parked underneath an awning beside the house. Maddie drove her car in beside it

"It's a beautiful old house," Caitlin remarked. "And I bet the view is just lovely from the verandah during the day."

"See, I told you you'd like it here," Maddie said. As she opened her door, she turned to Drew. "Why don't you wait here? I'll go inside and get Hugh to find you a pair of slippers or something. I'll also get him to bring in your bag, Cait."

"It's got wheels on it," Caitlin replied. "No big deal."

"If he's strong enough to win fencing tournaments, he can get off his butt to do that."

"I could carry if for you," Drew offered politely

"From the trouble you were having just getting to the car, somehow I doubt it," Maddie retorted

"I feel a lot better now," he asserted

"That's good to hear, but I'll get Hughie," she insisted

Caitlin also got out of the car, but Drew remained where he was, determined to keep warm as long as the heat remained in the vehicle. Besides, he wasn't sure how to open the door. He glanced over and saw a handle, but couldn't see how it worked. Then he looked out of the window to watch Caitlin walk towards the house.

He hadn't really paid much attention to their attire before, too cold and confused to notice very much at all, but now he wondered why both of them were wearing trousers. He knew fashions had changed dramatically over the past five hundred years, but woman had always worn dresses as far as he could recall. Was it just these two, or did all women now wear pants? he wondered, thinking it a crying shame if the latter was the case. But then, the way Caitlin's soft curvy hips and shapely bottom swayed as she walked, made him revise his opinion. In fact, the manly attire seemed to emphasize her womanliness, rather than detract from it, arousing something else that had lain dormant for a hundred years

The sound of voices drew his attention to the house. Maddie was heading back towards Caitlin, now accompanied by a tall, rangy young man wearing a beanie, and what looked like sheepskin boots. All three of them returned to the car, and Maddie pulled open the back door

"Must have left the childproof locks on after ferrying Jenny's kids around last week," she said. "Here you go. Hope they fit." She handed Drew a pair of soft fur-lined slippers. "This is my brother Hugh. Hugh meet Drew. Drew's a friend of Caitlin's from the UK."

"How's it going mate?" Hugh greeted him. "My sister said you had a bad run in with some thieves. A real bugger that. Hope it doesn't spoil your first impression of the land down under. Us Aussies are usually an easy going laid back bunch."

Since Drew could only understand about half of what Hugh said, he merely nodded and proceeded to put on the slippers.

"Perfect fit," he said. They felt soft and fluffy against his bare skin, another small pleasure to relish and remember

"We must be the same size then, so no problem with borrowing my gear till you get yours back, or lodge an insurance claim and buy new stuff. Actually it'd probably be quicker to get your folks to ship out some more stuff."

"Yeah right Hugh. Always got a solution to every problem, haven't you?" Maddie said, patting him affectionately on the back. "Now make yourself useful by getting Caitlin's bag out of the boot and taking it into Mum and Dad's room. I've decided Drew can have the guest room tonight."

Hugh gave his sister a salute before heading for the back of the car to do her bidding

Drew slid across the seat and placed his slippered feet onto the ground. This time he had no trouble standing up. His head didn't swim, and neither did he fell giddy when he took a tentative step

"Yes, you must be feeling better," Caitlin said, as he fell into step with them.

A small yapping dog, covered in white fur greeted them at the screen door

"This is Fang, Mum's ferocious hound," Maddie introduced the animal, now barking hysterically, virtually trying to claw it's way through the door

"Fang?" Caitlin queried with a raised brow

"Three guesses for who named him that," Maddie remarked

"Hugh," Drew suggested

"You win" Maddie said as she opened the screen door.

The bathmat on legs jumped up at her excitedly, still barking insanely

"You obviously haven't fed Fang yet, have you, Hugh?"

"Er no, I'll go and do it after dropping Caitlin's bag off."

"No, you go and find Drew some clothes, pajamas, underwear etc. My nose is telling me he's in desperate need of a shower. I'll feed Fang. You follow Hugh to Mum and Dad's room Cait, so you know where it is. This place has been turned into a bit of a rabbit warren with all the extensions over the years."

The inside of the house was alive with lights and almost as warm as the car had been. Drew could feel heat wafting from vents above their heads. How it was done he had no idea, but he suspected the electricity which powered the lights probably had something to do with it

After a brief tour of the 'rabbit warren,' Drew was shown to the bathroom, another brightly lit chamber with gleaming white tiles and a huge triangular shaped bath that Maddie called a spa. She went over and turned on two taps simultaneously to fill the tub

"Just make sure the water goes past the nozzles, otherwise you'll end up flooding the place," she said, motioning to several round holes about half way down the tub.

"Here's a towel for you on the rail. Hugh will bring in a change of clothes for you. There should be some bubble bath around here somewhere." She picked up a bottle sitting on the side of the bath. As she squirted some into the rapidly filling tub the little dog continued to yap hysterically at her feet.

"All right. All right. I'm getting to you Fang." She swept out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her, the dog still circling her heels

Left on his own Drew stood and watched the steaming water rise and the bubbles foam. Hot and cold running water at the turn of a tap! How absolutely decadent!

He could hardly wait, but first he had to figure out how to turn those taps off again, since the water had virtually reached the little holes. He turned the first one, only succeeding in making the water flow faster. Not a good sign, he thought, withdrawing his hand. Then he reached for the other one and turned it in the opposite direction, finding that it lessened the flow considerably. Perhaps that was what he had to do with the other one, he decided

It worked. The water stopped running

A rap on the door compelled him to turn around to peer through the steam

"Hugh here. I've got some clothes for you, mate. Can I come in?"

"Of course," Drew replied

Hugh entered the room and placed a bundle of attire onto the bench top under the mirror. "Pajamas and a dressing gown for tonight, and some underwear if you're the type to wear it to bed. Who knows with you Poms? I'll be leaving early in the morning to go to work, so feel free to go through my wardrobe when you want something to wear tomorrow."

"Thank you, Hugh. I appreciate it," Drew said truthfully. This family had been more than hospitable to a stranger they knew nothing about

"No worries mate. Enjoy your bath. That thing always puts me to sleep." He motioned to the spa. "You know how to turn it on?"

"No."

"Just press the green button there. Almost as good as a massage. Oh, here's the shampoo I use." He scooped up a bottle standing on a shelf inside a white tiled cubicle Drew hadn't noticed until now, and handed it to him. "Conditioner and shampoo in one. Can't stand the stuff my mum and sister use. Always ends up making me look with like a Muppet."

Since Hugh was still wearing his beanie, Drew had no idea what the man's hair looked like, or what a Muppet was, but at least he now knew what the shampoo was for, even if he still didn't know how to use it. He was starting to think the best thing would be to cut the entire mess off when Hugh told him where he could find a comb, brush and shaver. He pulled open the top drawer of the cupboard under the mirror. It also appeared to have taps and a basin, obviously for washing ones hands

Hugh left the room, closing the door behind him, and Drew proceeded to remove the clothes Caitlin had lent him and climbed into the bath. He sank down into the warm sudsy waster with a long sigh.

After all that pain, all the torture, Drew couldn't think of anything more pleasurable at this point in time, and laid his head back against the edge of the bath to finally let his mind relax along with his body.

He knew he only had one month, but he'd enjoy every single pleasure, every new discovery, every moment no matter how fleeting, because he very much doubted he would fulfill the insurmountable task the Gods had set him. He'd failed five times before, once in his human life and four more thereafter.

How did one find love within four short weeks anyhow? Oh, sure they had dropped him in the path of two lovely ladies, but these modern women who dressed like men didn't strike Drew as the type to fall in love easily.

In 1909 he'd sampled the pleasures of the flesh, as he had every time before. He remembered that now. Finding enough work to earn the money to frequent the whorehouses that seemed a constant in every time period had never been much of a problem, but whores did not fall in love. They didn't seek it, or even want it from their customers.

Other women had crossed his path. Maids, waitresses, ladies who worked in shops, but tarrying long enough to strike up a conversation, let alone a courtship had remained as elusive as the wind

So now, here he was in a house with two beautiful women. He knew he should make the most of it, but Drew was tired, so very tired of his eternal and pathetic existence. Neither did he know how to go about it, since customs and morals had changed so much over the centuries. He strongly suspected he'd never been particularly adept at dealing with the fairer sex. But the thought that he might have been as brutal towards woman as the rest of the dammed in Demeana's domain made him cringe inwardly in self-disgust.

The Goddess hadn't been far wrong with her observation. He'd been close, so close, to giving in and letting Demeana end it all. The only thing which had kept him going was knowing his hundred years were almost at an end, that he had one more chance to see the world and all its wonders

Should he through some miracle manage to fulfill his goal, what then?

Would the Gods let him live out this life they had given him, or would they merely end his suffering and let his soul die, or send him on to the next plane? Did he even want that? He knew he should have asked, but Drew hadn't wanted to give Demeana the satisfaction of even acknowledging her. He knew she hated it when he ignored her. It was the only sliver of control he had in her domain, control he knew he'd almost reached the end of

With a sigh, Drew picked up the shampoo bottle and unscrewed the lid. It was made from a rather soft malleable substance, not glass at all. He tipped it to see what would emerge, thick creamy goop that pooled into the centre of his palm. He supposed he now applied it to his hair. Reading the back of the bottle, he realized he would have to rinse it out again afterwards. Like soap, he supposed

As he massaged the shampoo into his scalp, a whole manner of grime came free. Maybe he could get a comb through the matted mess after all, he thought, as he dunked his head under the water to rinse it off

This completed, he decided to press the button Hugh had mentioned to turn on the spa. He was curious about the massage. A loud rumble seemed to emerge from all around him, startling him, and then he felt warm jets of water assail him from various points around the tub.

As he settled back down, Drew found it a really quite tantalizing, like tiny fingers drumming against his aching muscles. But after a few minutes of this, the scabs and scars about his body began to protest from all the stimulation, and he knew he had to turn the device off

Realizing he'd probably tarried long enough in the bath, Drew reluctantly climbed out, feeling the dragging weight from having been submerged too long. He picked up the towel Hugh had left for him, and dried himself with it

Then he turned his attention to the clothes. Underwear turned out to be a singlet and a small pair of pants made from stretchy material. He slipped them on, surprised at how well they fitted. Then he pulled on the singlet, followed by the top that buttoned up down the front, and finally the pants which had some kind of stretchy band around the waist. How convenient, he thought

Unfortunately the massage spa had made his damaged skin extra sensitive, and the clothing chafed against his healing welts, but he'd put up with worse, much worse, so he turned his attention to combing his knotted hair, knowing this was going to take some doing

But he persisted, even though it frustrated him. Finally he managed to get most of it untangled, and then turned his attention to the razor. The small white object hardly looked strong enough to shave anything, but luckily Drew never had been able to grow much of a beard. Perhaps it had something to do with his fair coloring, for his brother, who'd been darker, had been much hairier just about everywhere

His brother had had everything Drew didn't; his father's approval, freedom to do as he pleased, and servants catering to his every whim

The sudden knocking on the door startled him out of his bout of resentment, something Drew was suddenly grateful for. Fancy getting worked up over someone who had been dead for centuries

"How are you going in there? Dinner is almost done," Maddie called out

"Coming," he called back, deciding the shave could wait

Drew found his way to the kitchen easily enough. He merely had to follow his nose. The two women were setting down trays and bowls that emitted a whole manner of tantalizing aromas. Drew felt his stomach contract, as he realized just how hungry he was. The existence they had kept him in meant he never seemed to require sustenance, but now that he was back in human form, the years of starvation made him feel almost nauseous

"Hey, he scrubs up quite nicely, don't you think?" Maddie remarked, looking Drew up and down as she placed another bowl onto the table

Caitlin turned around from the sink to regard him, and almost did a double-take.

As it dried, Drew's blonde hair was forming itself into soft silken waves about his broad shoulders. Even though he hadn't shaved, the fair beard suited him, following the line of his sharply angled jaw. His nose was long and straight, and his wide, full-lipped mouth softly curved in a faint bemused smile. His deep blue eyes returned her regard with a warm twinkle.

Whatever that witch had done to his body, she'd left his face well and truly alone, a face so handsome, even Caitlin, who'd sworn off men for the foreseeable future, couldn't help feeling a sharp jolt of desire rock through her. And the way he was looking at her, as though he genuinely found her attractive, aided the intensity of her reaction, a reaction she really didn't want, on account of all the heartache it had caused her in the past

Jason had been handsome too, but in a dark and dangerous way, making her wonder what she'd ever seen in him in the first place. Oh, he'd pursued her relentlessly, not giving up until he had her where he wanted her, relying on him for virtually everything. It had all been about power, not love, something she hadn't seen until it was almost too late

Before she allowed her thoughts to carry her any further down that dark road, she returned her attention to rinsing the pasta

"Go on, take a seat," Maddie said to Drew as he stood in the middle of the floor drowning in the wonderful food smells.

What would they say if he told them he hadn't eaten a thing in a hundred years? Never believe him of course. Glancing down at the eating utensils, he wondered if he could even remember how to use them

Drew gnawed on his lower lip as he sat down in the seat Maddie had indicated. While they weren't looking he picked up the knife and fork, testing the feel of them in his hands. Yes, he was sure he could do this without too much embarrassment

Maddie called Hugh to the table a few minutes later. He took the seat beside Drew, and the two women sat down opposite. It gave Drew the opportunity to study Caitlin. For some reason he felt himself drawn to her more than Maddie. Caitlin wasn't classically beautiful, but her delicate features, her kissable red lips, and soft womanly body did more for him than the willowy blonde beside her.

He felt it again, the heat pooling in his groin, making him grow hard in an instant. Drew quickly returned his attention to his meal, feeling rather embarrassed and even a little ashamed of himself. This wasn't the way to act in front of a woman he'd only just met, particularly one who had been mistreated by men in the past.

Drew wouldn't hazard a guess Demeana had sent him sprawling in their path on purpose to make his task that much more difficult. He'd seen her devour her victim's souls. It was worse than any dagger cut, whip or burn, and she could drag it out for hours if she chose to. What came after he could only guess at, but he was certain it wouldn't result in a peaceful end

Realizing where he'd let his thoughts take him, Drew focused his attention on the meal, which tasted as delicious as it looked. He polished off everything on his plate, and was still left wanting more

Maddie brought out dessert. Chocolate Mousse she called it. Drew doubted he'd eaten anything this wonderful in his entire existence. It just melted in his mouth, making him want to go on savoring it forever

"God, you look like you're having an orgasm," Hugh laughed at him

"A what?" Drew asked, licking chocolate from his spoon

Hugh frowned, casting his sister a quizzical glance. "Do they have a different name for it in the UK? Like the Yanks call taps faucets, and nappies diapers."

Drew shrugged. "I just haven't eaten anything this wonderful in... a long time," he said simply, deciding it best if he stopped being so obvious about his enjoyment of the food

Caitlin had already finished her mousse, knowing full well she shouldn't have eaten it, as it was bound to find its way to her hips overnight.

She sat back, regarding the handsome stranger, wondering about his odd remarks and his almost orgasmic responses to chocolate. Yes, Hugh had used the correct word, but why on earth had Drew acted as though he didn't even know what it meant? The man might look like the answer to every woman's dream, with that sexy long blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and stunning face, but he was a strange one, no doubt troubled from the pain of all those scars. She'd caught a glimpse of the look in his eyes as he'd stared moodily down at his plate. It looked like he was remembering some torment she could only guess at. If she thought Jason had treated her badly, this Demeana had clearly been even more vicious; making Caitlin wonder if he'd only now made his escape, and if they'd soon have some knife-wielding psycho woman pounding on their front door

After dinner, Maddie got up and ordered Hugh to do the washing up, to which he groaned out load

"I shall assist you," Drew offered

"Thanks mate. That'll get it done double quick, and then I can get back to my game. Have you ever played Demon Slayer?"

Drew shook his head, a deep frown marring his brow. "But I can think of at least one demon I would like to slay."

"I'll show you my sword collection too."

"Well, that ought to keep them both amused for the rest of the evening," Maddie said as she walked out of the kitchen. "Come and watch a movie with me Cait. I've hired out a couple of chick-flicks, so that should keep the guys away from the TV for a while."
About the author

Emma Daniels lives in Sydney Australia, with her husband and two young children.

Emma wrote her first romance novel when she was sixteen, typing it up on an old manual typewriter. She hasn't stopped writing since.

She is also a jewellery designer, selling do-it-yourself project kits as well as original hand crafted jewellery.

She loves reading romance and fantasy novels.

Emma can be contacted on email address; emmadaniels@tpg.com.au
Other titles by Emma Daniels also available

The Prisoner Within

Heartbreak Highway

Ocean of Fire

The Indian Rose

The Crystal Rose

The Dreamspell

Lord of my Dreams

Giving up the Ghost

Entwined

Ghost of a Chance

Judging Jayden

