3
Waking up to birdsong in one’s ears was normally a pleasant experience, but this bird sounded like a harpy. Its rhythmic squawking grew louder with every passing moment until Liam felt like it was screeching from inside his skull. He cracked open one eye and stared at the flashing electronic clock on the table next to him. Not pausing to wonder how he knew exactly what it was, he slapped the alarm off and rolled onto his back with a groan.
A familiar floral scent enveloped him. Liam rubbed his face and slowly opened his eyes. The ceiling above him was pristine, white and perfectly smooth, like the surface of a frozen pond on a winter day. He shifted on the plush mattress, recognizing at once that it was nothing like any bed he’d ever slept in before. The robin’s-egg blue sheets were soft, and the warm body beside him, softer. He squinted at the woman’s lush black hair fanned out on the pillow, taking in the delicate slope of her bare shoulder and the supple curve of her hip under the sheets.
His mouth curved in appreciation. Sure, he’d been thrust into the future with a ridiculous task, and he was in danger of suffering the eternal fires of hell if he didn’t succeed, but he had to give the angels some credit. Waking up with a lovely woman in his bed was a damned fine way to begin. Maybe they were giving him some encouragement. Maybe they just wanted him to embrace this new life with passion and enthusiasm.
Rising to his elbow, he peered at her sleeping face, instantly recognizing the woman as his on-again, off-again mistress from his former life. Margaret Brady wasn’t the type of woman a man could easily forget. She’d been beautiful back then, and clearly her reincarnated self hadn’t changed. He wondered if she still had that same come-hither smile, or those skillful hands, or—more importantly—if she was married in this life, too. The memory of Margaret’s cold, calculating husband was like a bucket of ice water over his head.
Liam rubbed a hand over his throat, confused and somewhat frustrated at finding himself in bed with Margaret. Was it some kind of joke, then? Were the angels watching him, laughing from up above in their mist-filled room? He sat up and took in his surroundings.
The plush furniture and lustrous fabric were distinctly feminine, with soft colors and ruffled cushions making it clear to Liam he was in Margaret’s bedroom. In the past, she’d loved flowers and plants, and she’d been renowned for her beautiful gardens. It seemed her love of nature was still strong. There were floral paintings on the walls, and the cushioned chairs near the windows were covered in a leafy vine pattern. One of the side tables held a huge crystal vase filled with blooms. A framed photograph on the wall caught Liam’s attention. It showed Margaret as a bride in a white lacy gown, standing beside a smiling, older man Liam recognized. It was her same husband from the past, only this man in the picture seemed more relaxed and happy.
“Liam,” Margaret’s sleepy voice murmured. “What time is it?”
He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. Strange how he knew about things like digital clocks and photographs. The angels had said they’d give him some knowledge of this century. “Eight thirty.” He leaned against the padded headboard.
Margaret’s throaty sigh and soft hand on his shoulder made his body stir. Even after all that had happened, he wasn’t immune to her charms. Although he was in love with the sweet Cora, Margaret Brady was a veritable siren, and he was a man, after all. A man who’d spent several lifetimes without the finer pleasures so tantalizingly displayed in front of him.
“Come back to sleep, early bird. Since I don’t have to work today, I plan to waste my entire morning in bed.” She rolled over and rose on her elbows, revealing the soft swell of her breasts. “With you.”
Liam cocked his head in surprise. In the past, Margaret had been a wealthy, married woman. She’d never had to work a day in her life. “Where do you work?”
She peered up at him from beneath dark lashes, her wide gray eyes sparkling with humor. Her lush, full lips slowly curved up at the corners.
Well, that answered that. Liam swallowed hard. She still had the come-hither smile.
“You know where I work, silly.” Margaret reached out and gave him a playful shove.
“Aye, I do.” Liam scooted down and draped an arm over her. “But let’s pretend I don’t. Tell me the story of how we met.”
Margaret stifled a yawn and laid her head on his shoulder, running a manicured hand over his broad chest. “Once upon a time, there was a drop-dead gorgeous, total hottie.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Margaret lifted a delicate brow. “Who says I was talking about you?”
Liam gave her a sudden, tight squeeze and she laughed.
“As I was saying,” Margaret continued. “Once upon a time there was this total hottie who worked as a botany professor at Providence Falls University.”
“Ah, that would be your job,” Liam said with a nod. “You’re the botany teacher. You’ve always loved plants and flowers, so it makes sense.”
Margaret lifted her head. “Will you stop interrupting? I thought you wanted the story.”
“I do.” Liam took the quilt and drew it over them. “Go on.”
“So, this hot botany professor had to go to a business conference in Raleigh for a few days. One evening while she was at a bar, she met a tall, dark—”
“Incredibly fit and handsome—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Annoying man. This tall, dark and annoying man was named Liam O’Connor. At first, all he did was send her hot, smoldering looks from across the room. Then he sent her a drink, and finally, he walked over and tossed her the old ‘Do you come here often?’ pickup line. She was not impressed.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Liar.”
“She wasn’t,” Margaret insisted, laughing. “He was a shameless flirt. But they got to talking, and over the next few hours, he unleashed his avalanche of charm. She found out he was planning on moving to Providence Falls, too, which was an intriguing coincidence. So, before the poor botany professor had a chance to order a third vodka tonic, he was taking her by the hand and leading her out the door.”
Liam raised a brow. “And then?”