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someone out of their own century and expect them to fit in nicely with yours. It doesn’t work that way, Your Grace!”
    Carla screamed with frustration.
    “Perhaps I was wrong to wake you so soon. You seem agitated. Come. You will return to my bedchamber for additional sleep. Then, you may be of a better constitution.” His hand settled around her wrist and he proceeded to tug her from the room, but Carla dug in her heels at the doorway.
    She pulled in several deep, restorative breaths. She needed answers and instincts told her she would get nowhere with fury. “Duke, whatever your name is, what is this destiny you were talking about? And how do you know my destiny?”
    “All in good time. Do you have a name?”
    Suddenly, she was very tired, but beyond the weariness, there was the bone-chilling fear. Fear that the man standing at her side was telling her the truth and she was stuck in another time, a place she did not belong with absolutely no idea how to get home. “Carla. My name is Carla Morgan.”
    Sinclair wrapped his arm around her waist. “Nettie will bring the tea to my bedchamber, Carla Morgan.
    You will rest some more.”
    For once, Carla didn’t argue.

    * * * * *
“It is inexcusable that you have not called your family. Do you realize how long you’ve been gone? Why, your father and I were worried positively sick about you. And what about the family reunion? I insisted that you attend and you chose to get lost in a castle that’s seen better days while some strange man watches you. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you arrived. I can still see him.” Sandra Morgan’s voice was strident with displeasure. “You must call your father at once. He will want to speak with you about this. I can assure you that this is a punishable offense. He will not tolerate your lack of caring for this family.” The droning continued and Carla tried to drown out the sound of her mother’s voice, to turn away, but it was everywhere, surrounding her, thick with its admonishment.
    “Your mother is right. You had us very worried,” Baylor Morgan inserted his disapproval in his usual bored baritone. “I simply cannot overlook your avoidance of your responsibilities. You will be punished for this.”
    “I am a grown woman!” Carla shouted, but no one was listening. Voices mingled with voices to drown out her protests.
    “We were worried, Carla. You should have called. Even if he is a Duke. The man isn’t your family.
    What are you doing there with him? Why don’t you come home?” Jenny stood in front of her, a worried look on her pixie face.
    Carla pleaded with her friend to understand. “It wasn’t my choice. I was reading a book and then…”
    But Jenny walked away, turning her back, ignoring her.
    “No, please, you have to listen to me. I can’t get away. I’m stuck here in the nineteenth century. I can’t leave. Don’t you understand? I can’t leave.”

    * * * * *
Her head tossed fitfully on the pillow and Carla moaned low in her sleep. Her breaths came in short gasps and her skin dampened with her own perspiration. Only the cool cloth touching her forehead offered any relief.
    “You should wake now. It was only a dream.” The quiet, rumbling voice pulled Carla from the edges of the dream and tossed her back into a reality she still didn’t recognize.

    She blinked up at the Duke. He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, his thigh bumping against her hip.
    “I’m still here.”
    He touched her arm to reassure her, but the sensation only brought another wave of unexplainable desire. He smiled and Carla thought she saw a trace of cunning in his eyes. “You’re still here.” She edged her arm away, needing to think clearly.
    “This is real, then?” She felt her lower lip begin to wobble.
    The grin turned wicked and his hand brushed over the dip in her waist. “It is quite real.”
    Carla shifted away from him while her blood warmed to his touch. She had to remain focused…or she