by Nina Bangs
Ally looked thoughtful. “Couldn’t that just be the sound of waves hitting the air holes and caves in the rocks?”
Immersed in his story, the old man ignored her. “It be said the ghosts of Cromwell’s victims haunt the castle. The devil’s own slaughtered them as they slept.”
The old man turned his gaze back to the large space where once the main entrance had stood. He touched the keep’s wall, sliding his fingers over the rough stone, and Brian had a feeling the old man wanted to enter, but couldn’t. That didn’t make sense. He was probably imagining it.
“Donal Byrne escaped, but all others in the castle died.” His voice grew soft. “There was a serving woman in the castle that cursed night. It was only to take the place of her sick husband that she had come from the village to work.”
Brian took a deep breath, trying to dispel his unease. This was simply a story told by an old man.
“Her husband drove his cart to the castle when word came of the massacre, but none would let him in to claim his wife’s body.” The old man turned from the castle and started hobbling down the hill. “His heart failed while he waited by the gate for her body to be dragged out so he could take her home.”
Mesmerized, Brian followed while Ally walked beside him.
The old man stopped when he reached his donkey. “They piled the bodies in the great hall. There are those who say on a moonless night ye can hear Bridget’s body being dragged from the hall. The chill of it will freeze ye as it passes ye by.”
“Thank you for sharing your story.” Ally looked as uneasy as Brian felt. “You never told us your name.”
He nodded. “Eamonn Clancy.” With no other words, he drove away, and they watched until he disappeared from sight.
Ally glanced up at Brian. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Yes.” Both kinds. The ghosts of those who’d died and the tortured ones who lived in his soul. But Ally didn’t need to know about the second kind.
“Why? I’d think the further into the future you traveled, the less people would believe in the supernatural.”
He smiled down at her. “Not true. The more we’ve learned, the greater our belief in possibilities. Take the Old One and me. Once you accept that I’ve traveled through time and the Old One is a shape shifter, then you have to believe in things you can’t explain.”
She sighed. “I guess that makes sense.”
He laid his hand across her shoulders. “We ought to get our soup and sandwiches before the Old One decides to eat our share. She’s never had a delicate appetite.”
Ally refused to be led toward the wagon. “I need to take care of something first. You go inside, and I’ll be there in a minute.”
Brian stopped, puzzled. “I can wait for you.”
She turned an exasperated glance his way. “What I was trying not to say was that I have to use your bathroom.”
He grinned. “I’ll walk you over, show you how everything works.”
“I think I can figure it out all by myself.” Every word was a shard of ice. “I don’t for a minute believe you want to help. You just want to see my reaction.”
Brian nodded. “That too, but—”
“So you don’t feel cheated, I’ll give you my reaction before I see it. Because I won’t see it with you.” She offered him her I-know-how-yourmind-works glare.
“You know, you’re not a whole lot of fun sometimes, babe.”
She ignored him. “Okay, here it is. I’ll open the door. I’ll look inside. I’ll cover my mouth to keep from screaming. I’ll pick my way through the statues of naked cherubs, sunken marble tub, and fountains in the shapes of various erotic body parts. I’ll sit on the john while trying to ignore the paintings of naked women in need of six months at Weight Watchers. Maybe I’ll take a minute to peek at your magazine that tells me what men want and how they look when they get it. I’ll flush, then fight my way back to the door past red velvet drapes and strategically placed hanging plants. When I get outside, I’ll take a huge gulp of fresh Irish air to clear my nasal passages of the scent of sin.” She smiled up at him. “There. You have the whole experience. See you in the wagon.”
“You’re a cruel woman, Ally O’Neill,” he murmured as he watched her walk to the bathroom door and open it. When she’d closed the door behind her, he sauntered over and leaned against the wall. To listen.
Chapter Nine
“What the . . . ?” Ally scanned the room. White. Everything in the room was pure, shiny white.
Talk about unexpected. She paused for thought. She raised her voice. “I know you’re listening, Byrne, and this is too weird.” This wasn’t Brian Byrne. Brian was color: intense, brilliant. Colors that soaked into you and played in your memory long after they were gone. She took a deep breath. When had she learned so much about him, and why did she care?
She focused on the only thing in the room that could possibly be a toilet and ignored the antiseptic quality of the rest of the place. This was not somewhere she would come for a long, sensual soak.
Ally walked over, sat down, and thought longingly about the bushes. She gazed at the phalanx of buttons beside her. Which one would flush, and which would change her into a spider? Taking a deep breath of courage, she pushed one.
A scene materialized on the walls, surrounding her. For a minute, Ally didn’t realize what she was seeing. A strange-looking stadium with thousands of people. Something about those people . . . She blinked. They were all bald. Every single person in the stadium was bald and . . . She peered more closely. They had pictures painted on their heads. If she could only get a close-up she could see . . . Something else caught her attention. They were waving things. At first Ally thought it was the large numeral one that fans waved to indicate the hoped-for position of their team. But it didn’t quite look like . . . Ohmigod, it was a—
Ally hit the button and the scene disappeared. Just in time. Probably the next scene would be the competition. She didn’t want to see that. Yes, you do. Okay, so she did, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t even take a peek at Brian’s workday. Because it would bother you. And that was the biggest shock of all.
Scanning the bathroom, she realized something else was missing. No toilet paper. Oh boy. First she’d find the flush button, then shout for Brian to get the roll they kept in the wagon. Katy could hand it in to her.
She heaved a sigh of defeat. No way would she push another button at random. Time to yell for help. “Where’s the flush button, Byrne?”
“The one at the top.” His shout sounded muffled.
Ally narrowed her gaze on the door. If he was laughing at her . . . She pushed the button and wondered why there wasn’t a flushing sound. Her eyes widened. With a startled yelp, she leaped from the seat with enough forward momentum to carry her to the door. Pulling up her jeans, she tore open the door, then pushed past a laughing Brian.
Ally found her courage halfway to the wagon. She turned to face him. “You will build a new toilet, or I’ll never go in there again.”
He shrugged, but his eyes still glittered with laughter. “It’s the future, sweetheart. In my time, we don’t need water. We vaporize and sanitize everything. Air pulses combined with robotics do the rest. Humans don’t have to do a thing anymore.”
Ally realized her face must be neon red. “No one touches my bottom except me, Byrne. Remember that.”
“Hmm.” He still sounded way too amused.
“Why the white? After what you did to the wagon, I didn’t expect white.”
“Earth’s gotten a lot warmer in 2502. White’s cool. Everything is white.” He stopped and leaned against the side of the wagon. “I like it here. The crisp air, the colors.”
Ally could feel his gaze on her.
“It’s special.” His softly murmured comment incorporated her in its specialness.
Ally clasped her arms across her chest to dispel her shivery reaction to his words. He didn’t mean anything by them. She smiled up at him. “Must be hard to be bad when yo
u’re surrounded by pure-and-chaste white.”
He didn’t smile back. “Earth is perfect. No war, no violence, not even games that might result in injury. There’re regulations for everything. No smoking, no drinking. All discomforts are gone. In your time, scientists learned how to clone allergy-free cats. We don’t even sneeze anymore.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a different story on the outer planets. There it’s every man for himself. Violence, hunger. Earth doesn’t worry too much about them. Maybe in time . . .” He shrugged.
Ally tried to keep it light, afraid if she looked too deeply, she’d care too deeply. And she wasn’t ready for caring on a large scale. “So everyone on Earth lives a saintly life?”
His smile hinted at dark, warm places. “I’m the only sin in town, babe.”
Gimme a double scoop of sex with some hot sin on top. No, she had to modify her thinking. He’d help her with her writing, but he’d made it perfectly clear he wouldn’t make love to her. The only heat would be between the pages.
Something about his determination bothered her. She was a competitive person. He teased her with his sensuality, but then said hands off. What would it take to make him forget about his almighty contract and go for the gold? Thought provoking question. Might be worth investigating.
One thing she had to know before they went into the wagon: “I pushed the wrong button in there, and a scene flashed on the walls. I saw a stadium, and people were waving oversized . . .”
“Penises?” He frowned. “Oversized? What made you think they were oversized?”
She blinked.
He grinned.
Damn, she’d forgotten her question. She scrambled into the wagon before he could expand upon oversized penises.
Katy met her with hands on hips and nagging ready. “Took you long enough. I had to put the sandwich stuff away, and the soup’s cold.”
Ally looked at the Old One, who sat on a chair beside Katy. She wore the same expression as Katy, in a whiskery kind of way. “Don’t tell me you’re making the Old One into your clone.”
Katy and the Old One exchanged meaningful glances. “Females of a certain age have a better understanding of things. It’s all about experience.” She walked toward the door, the Old One by her side. “Think I’ll try out Brian’s fancy new bathroom. The Old One can show me the ropes.”
Ally didn’t comment as she retrieved the ham and cheese from the fridge, then made herself a sandwich. Maybe she should warn Katy, but Katy loved surprises. Wouldn’t want to spoil her first experience with a space-age toilet. She’d just started to heat up the soup when Brian entered the wagon. He looked fresh, and she surmised he’d used his bathroom to clean up.
“Your great-aunt just went into the bathroom. I told her to use the top button, but I have a feeling she’ll be in there a while pushing them all.” Sitting on the plush red velvet bench seat, he watched her work.
“How about a sandwich and some soup?” When he nodded, she made an extra sandwich, put it on a paper plate, and handed it to him.
His fingers slid over hers and remained there as he took the plate. She started to smile. Present and future connected by a ham sandwich. Was that deep, or what? Her smile faded as the heat of his hand seeped into her, made her consider the connection she’d feel if the rest of his body covered her.
“Thank you.” His voice indicated a level of appreciation that seemed too intense for a mere sandwich.
“It was nothing.” She felt like fidgeting under his intense stare.
“Sure it was.” He looked away, and she felt a sense of release. “No one ever made me a hamand-cheese sandwich before.”
She smiled. “Probably because no one eats ham-and-cheese sandwiches in 2502.”
He glanced back at her, but he didn’t return her smile. “That, too. But I meant that people do things for me because I pay them to. We’re not talking random acts of kindness here.”
She sat down next to him, but didn’t bite into her sandwich as she thought about what he’d said. “You can’t tell me there aren’t thousands of women who’d do things for you free of charge if you gave them a chance.” The thought made her frown.
Brian shook his head. “Women would always expect to be paid, either with my body or my wealth.”
Now Ally was really looking at him. “For someone who’s king of the universe, you don’t have a high level of self-esteem.”
He shrugged. “Just being realistic. Everyone wants something.” His smile returned. “Except you. You had no ulterior motive with that sandwich.”
Wouldn’t count on it. She didn’t want to dwell on that last thought. Time to get serious about research for Mavis’s idea of the perfect night of single bliss. “Katy’s gone for a little while. Maybe we should talk about the book.”
“Right. The book.” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed while he thought. Beside him, Ally did the same. He noted the small gulping sound as she swallowed. Brian smiled. The old ham and cheese wasn’t going down too easily. She was nervous. Good. Because he was working in virgin territory himself. He knew the two-minute drill, but that wasn’t what Ally wanted. “So what we’re looking for is the perfect night of sex.”
She nodded. “This has to be New York Times spectacular. It has to be erotically perfect, but still something the reading public can believe I actually experienced.”
“Hey, no pressure.” This “experience” would obviously have to last more than two minutes. Well, hell. “You know there is no ‘perfect’ sexual experience.”
Ally frowned. “Of course there is, and I’m going to write about it.” She bit her lip in concentration as she stared at him. “If you don’t know what the perfect sexual experience is, then who does?”
He shrugged. “I give great orgasms, but I don’t spend any extended time on foreplay. Just guessing here, but I think your reading public will be looking for the complete package. And everyone has a different idea of what makes for perfect sex.”
“Really?” She looked like the thought had never occurred to her.
Leaning over, Brian closed his lips on her earlobe, then gently nipped it.
Her sudden intake of breath encouraged further experimentation. He blew into her ear, and she jerked away.
He straightened and smiled at her. “You like the nipping but not the blowing. The blowing excites some women.” He shrugged. “Different women find different things erotic.”
She still looked uncertain. “What about men? Not in your time, but mine. Do they find different things erotic?”
“Grass growing is erotic to men in your time, babe.” Hey, he was excited sitting here eating a ham-and-cheese sandwich.
She tightened her lips and straightened her spine. Every tasty inch of her said she’d come to a decision. “Okay, I can deal with this. I’ll have to put every possible erotic detail into this book so no one feels left out.”
“You’ll run out of consulting time, sweetheart. I have three weeks. You’ll need a lifetime.”
Ally widened her eyes. “I don’t believe that. Bodies have a limited number of parts.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “I’ll have to figure out a way to keep readers engaged so they’ll finish the book. It can’t read like a how-to manual. It’ll have to have emotion. Heart.”
Brian didn’t know about the heart part. He’d done just fine without all the emotional stuff. But then, what did he know about women in this time? He was a quick learner, though. It might be fun finding out. From Ally.
“It’s not just about body parts.” Did he say that? His whole adult life had been dedicated to the premise that it was all about body parts. During competition, nothing else mattered. So why did he think it would be different with Ally? And this was about Ally. When he discussed her book, he’d be picturing her, not a faceless reading public. “It’s about what comes before. The preparation.” What would come before? He’d never had to seduce a woman with fantasies, with any senses beyond touch. What would a woman in this time expect fro
m him? He’d have to think about this.
A line of concentration formed between Ally’s eyes. “You’re right. We need preparation. Okay, so we have the usual foreplay, and there’s always some generic sex talk. But we have to come up with something that goes beyond the same-oldsame-old.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “Do you need any preparation?”
At the beginning of his career he’d needed nothing but the sight of a woman. Lately? He’d had to resort to fantasies. Interesting sidebar. He sure didn’t need any fantasy with Ally.
Brian shook his head. “I’m a hot talent, babe. But believe me, the rest of the world needs preparation.” He waited expectantly for her reaction.
“Hot talent? Try huge ego. I don’t know what kind of women you have in your time, but women in 2002 are tougher. It takes more than two minutes to satisfy us.” She almost vibrated with outrage.
Brian shifted his gaze to her breasts, waited hopefully for some outraged heaving. Too bad. No heaving, just vibrating. “Sure sounds like a challenge to me. Are you including yourself in the collective ‘us’?”
Caution crept into her eyes. “No. Well, maybe.” Her expression cleared. “Why am I arguing with you? This isn’t about life in your time. It’s about one fictitious night in the life of a woman from 2002. So use your imagination. What do you think would happen first? Run some ideas past me, then I’ll choose one I like and enlarge on it.”
Tough. Since he had no point of reference, he’d go with what would make sense in his time. “I’ll leave the initial small talk to you. Small talk isn’t a high-level skill with me.” He closed his eyes, concentrating. With his eyes still closed, he could feel Ally’s gaze moving over him: warm, hungry. And he allowed himself a moment of complete truthfulness.
He wanted to have sex with Ally O’Neill, but he wanted it to last a lot longer than two minutes. And for once in his life, he wanted to explore all his senses, steep himself in the full spectrum of sexual enjoyment. Without a scoreboard in sight.
Brian opened his eyes, and she shifted her gaze from him. He wouldn’t do it, because nothing had really changed. He was still going home in a few weeks. But maybe he’d come back each year during the off-season. Something about this time felt more like home to him than 2502 did.
