by JoAnn Ross
They stared at each other.
Kirby swallowed. “It could also be a problem.”
“Only if we let it.”
He knew that his curt tone had hurt her when her exceptionally expressive face closed, folding like the petals of a moonflower as the pink light of dawn approached. She went over to the mirror, yanking her hair back into that low tail. When she next scooped a handful of coins from the top of the chest of drawers into her trouser pockets, Sebastian noted that her hands were shaking.
She was right, he admitted reluctantly. This could be one Herculean problem.
“I want to have sex with you, Kirby Pendleton,” he told her with a stiff politeness that took every ounce of his self-control. With truth came reason, Sebastian reminded himself of the Logosian mantra. With reason came truth. Once Kirby understood his motivation, she would undoubtedly cease to be so upset. “Very much. But I promised your brother that we would not mate.”
“What?” She spun around and shot him a sharp look. “Mate? What Neanderthal cave did you just crawl out of, Sebastian? And what the hell does Nate have to do with this?”
The anger was radiating off her in waves. Realizing that this was one more instance where he’d gravely miscalculated, he decided against pointing out that Neanderthals had died out thousands of years ago. Instead, Sebastian took a deep breath and tried again.
“I explained that he told me about your husband.”
“Steven is my ex-husband,” Kirby corrected sharply.
“Ex-husband,” he allowed. “I also explained that Nate informed me that your husband, ex-husband,” he amended at her blistering look, “did something that hurt you. And since your brother cares for you very much, he made me promise that I would not permit you to become emotionally involved with me.”
“Not permit me?” Her voice rose high enough to crack the crystalline dome of his home city. “Are you saying that Nate made you promise not to permit me to become emotionally involved with you?”
“Yes.” Relieved to have made his point, Sebastian nodded. “That is precisely what I’m saying.”
She folded her arms beneath those lush breasts. “And I suppose you agreed.” Her tone was as icy as the stream he’d crossed yesterday while stumbling through the whiteout.
“Of course.”
Once again Sebastian found the human feminine mind to be a mystery. He’d explained their situation. So why did she appear to be so furious? She reminded him of one of the smoking, simmering volcanoes on the planet Pelethian, just prior to eruption.
Kirby nodded. “Of course,” she murmured scathingly. “Lucky for you he wasn’t prepared to marry me off. Lord knows how many camels he’d ask for.”
“Camels?”
After explaining that she was referring to a two-humped ruminant quadruped of the genus Camelus, the translator, obviously as confused as Sebastian was by Kirby’s reference, turned frustratingly silent.
“We did not discuss any camels,” he protested.
“You’ve no idea what a relief that is,” she shot back. Cursing under her breath, she marched from the room.
Sebastian followed, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw what she was buckling around her waist.
She followed his startled gaze to the leather holster at her hip. “Haven’t you ever seen a pistol before?”
“Not at such close range.”
The few antique weapons he had been privileged to see had always been locked away in glass cases in government archives that required the highest security clearances. Logosia had emerged from the Resistance Wars determined to remain an unrelentingly peaceful planet.
“And not worn by a woman, either,” she suggested with a sarcasm not unlike that which Rosalyn would occasionally direct his way.
“No.”
“I can imagine that would prove discomfiting.”
“In truth, it does.”
In theory, and put in the larger context of history, Sebastian had always found the primitive weapons used by other, more violent societies undeniably fascinating. Now, forced to accept the danger such a weapon might represent to a woman he already cared for a great deal more than he should, he found it unreasonably terrifying.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She pulled her jacket down from a peg by the door, shrugged into it, and pulled on her tall black boots. “If you’re coming, let’s go.”
Scooping up the jacket Nate had loaned him, Sebastian obediently followed.
13
They drove down the snowy road in silence. Having grown up in a climatically controlled city, Sebastian found the Maine tree-studded countryside a revelation. Within five minutes he had caught sight of innumerable birds, a white snowshoe hare similar to the ones on the planet Polaris, several bushy-tailed squirrels, and a furry flat-tailed animal his memory banks told him was a beaver.
He would have been having a wonderful time were it not for Kirby’s uncharacteristically stony silence. As the dashboard odometer clicked away the distance in tenths of miles, Sebastian grew more and more uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry I kissed you.”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” Kirby didn’t take her eyes from the road, slowing slightly when a red fox suddenly sprinted out of the trees and ran in front of the Jeep, its mahogany coat contrasting brightly with the sparkling white snow.
“All right.”
As the fox disappeared behind the curtain of pine trees on the other side of the road, Sebastian decided that he was going to ask Nate for the secret to what went on inside an Earth woman’s seemingly unfathomable mind. After all, given that he was about to reveal the practical application of antimatter to Kirby’s brother, such exchange of information would only be fair.
“Would it make you even angrier if I told you that I was sorry for apologizing?”
“The reason you don’t have to apologize is because I enjoyed it.” She did not sound at all pleased.
“Oh. I thought, at the time, that you did,” Sebastian allowed. “But if you enjoyed kissing me, why are you so angry?”
“Because I enjoyed it too much.”
“Enjoyment is a bad thing?” Rosalyn’s studies had indicated that, for the most part, humans sought enjoyment of all aspects of their lives. Mates, children, home life, work, and sex. The last one proved how different their species were. If merely kissing could cause such disorientation, he could not imagine what full-penetration physical sexual intercourse would be like.
“I’m referring to the chauvinistic way you and Nate talked about me as if I were some precious piece of porcelain that had to be handled properly for fear of breaking.”
Sebastian considered that. “He was only trying to protect you, Kirby. I would do the same for my sister.”
She slanted him a sideways glance. He thought, or hoped, that he felt a slight thaw in the chill. “You have a sister?”
“Yes.”
“What does she do? For a living?”
“She’s a xenoanthropologist.”
“A what?”
Belatedly realizing that this society did not yet have a need for people who studied alien cultures found on other planets and galaxies, he said, “It’s a type of anthropologist.”
“Oh.” Kirby nodded. “Sounds as if she’s pretty smart.”
“Oh, yes. She’s quite extraordinary.”
“For a woman?” she asked.
“I didn’t say that,” he reminded her mildly. “Actually, Rosalyn is one of the most intelligent persons—male or female—that I’ve ever known.”
“Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Kirby decided. “Is she younger or older than you?”
“Younger. By two years. Coincidentally, she’s the same age as you.”
“So, although she’s one of the most intelligent persons, male or female”—she threw his words back at him—“you’ve ever known, you still feel the need to protect her.”
“Of course.”
“Because she’s a woman.”
“T
hat’s right.” He was becoming uncomfortable. The back of his neck was getting itchy, but unwilling to show weakness, he resisted scratching it. This conversation was more than a little familiar. It was one he’d had with Rosalyn on too many occasions.
“What if she were your younger brother?” Kirby asked.
“She’s my only sibling,” Sebastian said. “Since she’s my sister, I could not have a brother,” he pointed out with perfect logic.
Kirby’s frustrated sigh ruffled the coppery fringe on her forehead. “Let’s try a hypothetical,” she suggested. “As a scientist, I’m sure you understand how hypothesis works.”
He thought he detected sarcasm in her tone but decided not to mention it because she was so obviously irritated. It would also be highly unwise to get her more emotional while she was operating the vehicle. “Of course.”
“Fine.” Kirby nodded. “So, let’s say—hypothetically speaking—that Rosalyn is now Robert, your younger brother.”
“All right. Hypothetically speaking.”
“And Robert met a woman he found attractive. A woman who found him equally appealing. Are you with me so far?”
“Absolutely.”
“Would you feel the need to go to this woman and warn her to stay away from Robert? In order to protect him?”
“Of course not.”
“Because he’s a man.”
“Yes.”
Kirby was undeniably charming. And, knowing she’d been an attorney, Sebastian allowed that she was also intelligent. So why couldn’t she see the simple logic of his reasoning?
“I give up.” Obviously frustrated, Kirby threw both hands in the air, causing the Jeep, which had just hit a patch of ice, to veer dangerously toward the edge of the road.
“Damn.” Grabbing hold of the steering wheel, she deftly maneuvered the Jeep back into the middle of the packed snow with a skill that Sebastian couldn’t help but admire.
“That was very good,” he said, hoping to deflate her anger.
“I had excellent professional precision driver’s training.”
She turned a corner, and suddenly a building that had been hidden away in a grove of pine trees came into view. It crossed Sebastian’s mind that if he hadn’t known the laboratory was here, he never would have found it.
“Well, here we are,” she said. “Safe and sound.”
Sound, perhaps. But far from safe. Because he and Kirby Pendleton were rapidly approaching something that could prove inordinately perilous.
“Thank you. I appreciate your driving me here.”
She shrugged. “There wasn’t room for three on Nate’s snowmobile. And although you make me want to throw things at your chauvinistic head, Sebastian, I’d rather put up with your frustrating, maddening company than Whitney’s smug superiority.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“I suppose it is.” The smile he was rapidly becoming addicted to bloomed on her lips and in her eyes.
“In that case…”
Leaning toward her, he touched her face. Not seductively, not soothingly, but with a masculine possessiveness that he half expected to anger her all over again but, for some reason he couldn’t comprehend, didn’t.
“I enjoy your company, too, Kirby. Very much, as a matter of fact.”
“Thank you.”
Knowing he was playing with fire, he brushed the pad of his thumb against her mouth. “Your brother’s going to wonder where I am.”
“Nate’s an intelligent man. He’ll figure it out.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Although it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, Sebastian backed away, literally and emotionally from what was quickly becoming a highly illogical, extremely volatile situation.
Her lips curved in a reassuring, seemingly amused smile. Her pique, Sebastian noted, was like a shooting star—a quick, hot flare before disintegrating.
“I’m twenty-nine years old, Sebastian,” she told him. “And as much as Nate might dearly like to think otherwise, what I do or whom I do it with is none of my brother’s business. Meanwhile, have a good day in the brain factory. I’ll try to run down your stuff and discover what happened to you. See you later.”
“Later,” Sebastian agreed. If he found being alone with Kirby distracting, he was appalled at his reluctance to leave her. “Despite what I promised your brother, I still want you.”
The Ancient Ones were wrong. Truth wasn’t always synonymous with reason. At least not when it came to his feelings for Kirby Pendleton.
“I know.”
“I’ve also discovered, against all logical reason, that I need you. And such need terrifies me.”
Her gaze softened and she touched a hand to his cheek to soothe. “I know that, too.”
“I rather thought you did,” Sebastian agreed. “Since we inexplicably seem to share the same thoughts quite often.” His eyes remained on hers as he resisted the urge to draw her close for another taste. “You were correct about it being a problem.”
“I’m not about to try to deny that.”
“But we will deal with it.”
She nodded, her heart once again shining in her expressive eyes. “Yes.”
It was only after he was walking toward the door of the laboratory that Sebastian realized that it was possible that, rather than assisting him in resisting their shared attraction, she’d just agreed to make love with him.
Which, after he’d specifically promised her brother not to, would not only be unethical and illogical, it would be insane. Yet more evidence that his brain had somehow been damaged between Logosia and Rum Runner Island, Maine.
Nathaniel Pendleton held the key to Sebastian’s very survival. Without his assistance in correcting the time sequence, Sebastian could very well arrive home during the wrong time. Even before the Ancient Ones had arrived with their superior intellect and laws and reason, and civilized what had once been an inhospitable, primitive, warlike planet.
And that would be suicide.
So what was it about Kirby that had Sebastian willing to risk exactly that?
Like all scientists, he had always enjoyed solving problems. Even as a boy, he’d enjoyed puzzles, the more complicated the better. He enjoyed dissecting a problem, pulling it apart piece by piece, until finally, after meticulous study, he would have the answer.
He knew that, with due diligence and Kirby’s brother’s help, he would solve the puzzle of time and distance and return safely to his planet.
Unfortunately, the answer to his more personal dilemma, Sebastian suspected, could not be solved by logic or scientific method. As horrified as he was to realize that he was behaving more like a human than a proper Logosian, he couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed anything more than he’d enjoyed kissing Kirby.
A problem the Earthling female might be, Sebastian acknowledged honestly. But she was also the most delectable, enticing, delightful problem he’d ever encountered.
* * *
The laboratory was, unsurprisingly, tightly secured. Sebastian stood in front of the all-seeing eye of the video camera and was about to press the button to the intercom when the front door suddenly slid open.
“Well, hello,” Whitney greeted him. “I was wondering when you’d show up.” She glanced over Sebastian’s shoulder. “I suppose Kirby’s on her way to work.”
“Yes.” Once again Sebastian found himself uncomfortable with the polite small talk that seemed to be the custom on this planet. “To her police station.”
“For the life of me, I can’t imagine why any woman would want to be a police officer,” Whitney said.
“Nor can I,” Sebastian responded.
Whitney rewarded him with a slow, distinctly feminine smile that had Sebastian wondering if perhaps Nate hadn’t claimed this woman, after all.
“I mean, it’s such an unfeminine occupation,” she said. “Don’t you think?”
In all truth, he did. But there was a predatory glint in her dark eyes that had him fee
ling decidedly uncomfortable. That and the way this woman made Kirby feel inferior had Sebastian avoiding a direct answer.
“I think Kirby is the most feminine woman I’ve ever met.” He’d never, in all his thirty-one years, uttered a more truthful statement.
“Well.” Her smile turned chilly. Frost tinged her eyes. “You can’t blame a girl for trying, now, can you?”
“No. You cannot.”
She gave him a curious look tinged with renewed humor. “You’re a strange one, Sebastian. But then again, aren’t we all?”
She pulled on a pair of thick black gloves. “I’m going for a walk,” she divulged. “A brisk stroll through the woods always clears my head when I’m stumped. Go on in,” she said. “The receptionist at the front desk will page Nate for you and take care of getting you a proper ID.”
That said, she left the building, walking away without a backward glance. Sebastian watched for a moment, wondering why the smooth movement of her hips did not affect him in the way Kirby’s did.
Then, deciding to dwell on that question later, he entered the building and discovered that apparently everyone in this time brought trees indoors. Unlike Kirby’s, this was made of metal, set on top of a table. An ancient motherboard served as a base to the tree decorated with spare computer parts, including letters cut from keyboards put together to spell out holiday words, and what he recognized from Logosia’s famed technological museum as shiny DVDs and Game Boys.
Less than a minute after giving his name to the receptionist, Nate appeared and took him into a small room, where Sebastian once again had his photo taken, his eye and hand scanned.
“The palm’s better for security,” Nate said, which Sebastian already knew. “But we’re still using the eye scanner just in case someone gets their hands cut off and bad guys try to use the disembodied hands to get in.”
“That is an unnecessary precaution, given that the reflection method of illuminating the palm with an infrared ray captures the light given off by the region after diffusion through the palm,” Sebastian argued. “The vein pattern is then used to authenticate the individual. However, the sensor can only recognize the pattern if the deoxidized hemoglobin is actively flowing within the veins. So, an amputated hand would not work.”
