Tearing her gaze from his, she peered at her computer and bit her bottom lip. “We might have something.”
Kendar strode to her side, placed his arm over her shoulder and watched the spinning symbols on the computer align themselves, separate and realign, as if he understood the computer’s processes. But his viewing the data was simply an excuse to touch Sara, and as he breathed in her scent, a longing for more time with her washed over him.
Sara pressed buttons, giving several directions and the computer kept altering the pictographs. She pressed a button and the markings decreased in size. But now under them was a translation of the alien message in English.
Stars! Sara had done it. She’d figured out how to read the alien language. Kendar was overwhelmed with pride for her and had to force himself to focus as she read aloud, “Warning. Only one being may utilize the portal at a time. Allow twenty,” she paused and the computer displayed a series of symbols that meant it couldn’t decipher the word, “Allow twenty of these things between cycles.”
“How long is a cycle?” Terry asked.
Sara shrugged. “Perhaps once the computer translates the rest of the pictographs we’ll have a better idea.” Leaning forward, she studied her screen, her eyes bright and determined. “This is good.” Next to the pictographs, simple words were written. Up. Down. Turn. And then a seemingly endless series of numbers. “My sleeping pod seems to have been placed directly on a platform for the time portal.”
“Do you see a way to turn off the machine?” Kendar asked.
She shook her head. “Those are likely scientific calculations. I may have to…” She reconfigured her computer. “If those numbers match any formulas known to human science, we might soon have our directions.”
“Surely it won’t be that simple?” Kendar frowned and held her tighter.
“It might be. And we needn’t understand how the time machine works to shut it down or use it. Imagine a flashlight. A child can follow simple directions to turn on a light without having any comprehension of electricity.”
“So if the directions are complete, you can send me to the future?” Terry asked, her tone pleading, her skin a sickly bluish white.
Sara sighed. “Right now, all I know is that the dial there,” she pointed, “seems to correspond to years. And it’s set on three hundred.”
“You’re sure?” Kendar asked, hearing the uncertainty in Sara’s tone.
“The computer estimates the probability of a correct translation at seventy-two percent.” She shrugged and glanced at Kendar. “And it makes sense.”
“I like those odds better than the ones if I stay here,” Terry muttered. She shoved out of her chair and staggered toward Sara and Kendar. Before Kendar realized what Terry intended, she’d climbed onto the portal, the spot where he’d arrived next to Sara. “So where’s the switch that sends me to the future?”
Sara shrugged. “That part seems to be missing.”
The machinery hummed.
And then Terry disappeared.
One minute Kendar had been watching her, the next she’d vanished.
Sara hadn’t looked up from her screen. “Terry, please. I know you’re sick, but you must try to be patient.”
Kendar found his voice. “Terry’s gone.”
“What?” Sara glanced around the room, her eyes puzzled. “Where did she go?”
“I suspect she went exactly where she wanted to go—to the future.”
HORRIFIED THAT SHE had failed to balance the time continuum, Sara fought to hold back tears. She knew of military scientists who’d created weapons, engineers whose experiments had gone awry, but as an archeologist, she dealt with civilizations that had been dead for tens of thousands of years. She’d never expected to be directly responsible for the life of a human, let alone the future of all females on Mars. Since Terry had taken Kendar’s place in the future, time hadn’t been balanced, but Sara hoped that Terry at least had gotten what she’d wanted. Hopefully, she was now cured and the sole female in a world of men.
Kendar, normally so sensitive, understood Sara was upset. Concern darkened his violet eyes, but she also read confusion in his expression. Nevertheless, he took her into his arms and lent her what comfort he could. Gathering her against his giant chest, one hand rubbing her back, he murmured soothingly. “There was nothing you could have done to stop Terry. Whatever happens, it’s not your fault.”
Sara allowed his tone to calm her. She’d responded emotionally, not intellectually. And she might have to live with never knowing what had happened. She flicked on her communicator, listened to the news, but no immediate change in the status of women’s health was being reported. However, a few spacers were claiming the Martian clocks had gone awry. Still distressed, she turned off the news and remained in Kendar’s arms.
“Now what?” he whispered.
“Even if I knew how to turn off the machine, I fear it might make things worse. All we can do is wait.”
“We wait?”
“Maybe tomorrow all the sick women will be well.” She tried to remain upbeat. “Or perhaps, no one else will fall sick. Or maybe the rate of decline will flatten.”
Kendar’s eyes oozed sympathy and determination. “Maybe you should send me, too.”
She shook her head. “I won’t compound one mistake by making another. Sending both you and Terry could make the balance more lopsided than it already is. We need to wait, see if her departure changes the sickness here.”
A smile played over his face and brightened his eyes. “You’re sure you’re not simply making excuses to keep me around?”
“I don’t want to lose you,” she admitted. “However, I also have no idea how long the machine takes to recycle.”
“We also need a break. We can’t go nonstop or we won’t think straight. As much as we need to find out how to turn off the machine and put time back in balance, we have to pace ourselves. Exhausted people make dumb mistakes.”
“You’re right.”
There was nothing more for her to do at this moment. All her life she’d kept her heart in check, afraid to get too close for fear of losing those she loved. But knowing she might die in a few days changed her outlook, made her bolder, more willing to reach out and take what she wanted. This might be her last chance, and instinctively she knew she’d been waiting for this man. For Kendar. Placing her hands on each side of his jaw, she watched his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. “And while we wait, I see no reason why we can’t…enjoy ourselves.”
“Sara.” He groaned, slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with a passion that sizzled straight to her toes.
Sara didn’t know if the trying day, the uncertainty of the future, or the drugs that might still be in her system caused every nerve ending in her body to sing greedily for his touch. And at the moment, she didn’t care about reason. She knew that Kendar caused her to feel sexier than she’d ever felt, more alive, more certain of her own sensuality. She didn’t know how or why, but she liked the way he made her feel about herself. Period. End of story.
She needn’t rationalize her need for this man. Wanting him was enough. And she wanted with a blazing, brazen boldness that had her taking off his shirt, slipping off his trousers, leaving him naked and proud and waiting, as if he understood exactly how much she ached to take control of at least one part of her life. And she appreciated that he was confident enough to allow her to do what she wished. That inner certainty and self-assurance was as attractive to her as his violet eyes and the way he’d helped her all day as a true partner.
Oh, yeah. She wanted his bod, but that was because she now knew he had a generous heart and a wise soul. She’d never understood how some very intelligent women seemed to go gaga over a man and lose their center, but she understood now. Kendar made her feel things she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling. Trust. Companionship. Lust. Love?
Her mind shied away from the big L-word. She didn’t need a label, not when he was standing before her, allo
wing her to smooth her palms over his shoulders and chest. Not after she plucked at his nipples and his Adam’s apple hitched. Not when she leaned forward to wrap her arms around him, placing her mouth even with his nipples and her palms over his tight butt.
“Damn, you feel good,” she murmured. Tilting her head back, she looked him straight in the eyes, pleased when he held her gaze with a direct I-want-you look.
“I like you, too.” He brushed his pelvis against hers. “All of me likes you.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Her fingers scampered lightly over where he was hard, teased where he was soft. “But I still remember what you told me.”
“Huh?”
“That anticipation increases desire.”
His voice deepened with need. “Darling, I have been waiting for you my entire adult life. I just didn’t know it—until now.”
His words sped her pulse and she kept her hands roaming, stroking, caressing. As much as she wanted him, no way was she going near that damn pallet from where Terry had disappeared. However, the chair should be safe. And interesting. Shaking a stray lock of hair from her eyes and grabbing his hand, she led him to the chair. “Please sit.”
“Okay.” He did as she asked and patted his thigh. “Join me.”
“Not yet.” First, she dimmed the lights and set her communicator to emit an upbeat tune. And then she let her hips sway.
His gaze followed her as if glued and his hands clenched the arms of the chair, holding him in place. “What are you doing?”
“Taking off my clothes.”
“I wanted to do that.” He sounded like a kid who didn’t get to unwrap his own birthday gift, but his eyes glinted with fire and his lips curved upward.
She didn’t say he could undress her next time. They might not have a next time. She shoved the thought aside. She would think only about now. Only about making this the most memorable experience of his life.
She raised her hand to the top button on her blouse. “You get to watch.”
“And touch?” he added, his voice tight, hopeful.
She swayed closer. “Maybe.”
He reached for her and she stepped back, taunting him with a grin and an enticing shimmy. “And maybe not.”
If he was about to complain, the words died on his lips as she unfastened three more buttons and allowed her shirt to drift open until he could see the curves of her breasts over the lace of her bra. She held up a finger, licked it, then slowly teased her breasts until her nipples hardened beneath the lace. She’d never done anything so sensual and her heart sped, her hips gyrated. Judging from the fire in Kendar’s gaze, he was mesmerized.
Good.
Time to mix things up. She shrugged out of her shirt. Turned and removed her bra. When she spun back to face him, her hands covered her bare breasts and she could tell he was practically panting to see more of her. He leaned forward, his head angled intently, his expression fervent, his lips parted. So she made him wait, stepped right in front of him, and without missing a beat of music, she lowered her hands, letting her breasts sway just inches from his mouth.
The moment he tried to capture her between his lips, she dropped to her knees and took his straining erection deep into her mouth. He tasted like pure male heat. Her action must have stunned him because his thighs and calves tightened. He clenched the arm of the chair so hard she wondered if it would break. And his groan of pleasure urged her on.
She nipped and kissed and sucked, teasing and taunting him as he’d done to her. Loving the power of keeping him exactly where she wanted him, aching to bring him literally to his knees with need, she played his body like a musical instrument, strumming a sensual rhythm with her fingers. And when she suspected he couldn’t stand another moment, she stopped and regained her feet. He blinked, as if coming out of a daze. Loving his crazed-to-have-her look, yet determined to make him wait a little longer, she gave him a few moments to recover.
And then she unfastened the button of her pants, unzipped and let them drop. She stepped out of them and danced for him, and all that separated them was three steps, his determination to stay put and a triangle of lace. As she danced, her feet moving faster, her hips swiveling to the music, her temperature rose, higher, hotter.
His grip tightened on the chair, until the knuckles changed from bronze to white. Oh, yes. He wanted her, all right. Seeing him fight to keep his desire in check made her determined to see exactly how much he could endure. Exactly how hot could she fire his senses?
“You look…incredible.” His voice was hoarse, husky, hard with need.
“Mmm. I can look better.”
She eyed the water leftover from making tea, grabbed the pot, raised it over her head, tipped back her neck and poured, letting the now cool liquid sluice over her heated skin. Water droplets clung to her face, her neck, her breasts and Kendar’s every appendage tightened, showing his appreciation. He took in all of her with a voracious gaze, and she arched her back, the water glistening on her flesh. When his gaze dropped to the dark, damp triangle of lace, moisture pooled between her thighs.
“Come here,” he demanded, his tone needy.
“Soon.”
She danced for him as if this was the only time they would ever have, as if she could brand his memory and his need for her into her brain. And when her breath came fast and furious, when her own craving for him demanded that she go to him, she forced her steps to be slow and sure.
As she closed the distance between them, she saw the strain in his eyes, the effort it cost him to wait. Licking her bottom lip, she tossed her wet hair over her shoulder, hooked her thumbs into her panties and yanked them off in one sensual move.
“Stars, you’re beautiful.”
“Like you have seen a lot of naked women to compare me to,” she teased, but he must have realized that although she said the words in jest, there was genuine concern there, too. She was the only woman he’d ever seen naked. He couldn’t know how he’d react to anyone else. But, she knew she’d never felt this way about any man.
Letting go of the chair, he tugged her forward until she straddled his knees. “Sara, you’re special. I want you. Only you.”
He seemed sincere, but he was a man. He was primed to make love. He’d say anything at all to have her. And even knowing that, she wanted him, ached for him.
She began to inch forward, lowering her hips to take him inside her. Gently, he clasped her bottom, she thought to guide her over him, but he sat her on his lap, slipped his hand between her parted thighs and found her center, moist and ready. His clever fingers seemed to know exactly what she liked and she closed her eyes as he caressed her and the friction consumed her. She pumped her hips, wanting faster, harder, more.
“We need to talk,” he said, though his hand never stopped stroking.
Her eyes popped open. “Now. You want to talk now?”
“Yes.” He brushed her nether lips with his fingers, teasing and taunting.
She gritted her teeth, forced herself to concentrate as if he wasn’t fondling her with sensual intimacy. “What?”
“You’re special to me. Not because you’re the first woman I’ve seen or made love with, but because you’re the first to touch my heart.”
“You can’t know that,” she protested, finding it so very difficult to talk while he caressed her.
“Sure I do.” He locked gazes with her, his finger slipping into her, then sliding slowly in and out. “I know that I want to know you better. I know that no matter how much I learn about you, I’ll still want to know more. And no matter happens, there’s a place inside me that will always belong only to you.”
God, how could his talk be so sweet while his fingers were so wicked? He had her head spinning, her blood singing. And she understood that he believed what he was saying. For now, that was so much more than she’d ever thought she’d have that joy swelled within her.
She locked gazes with him, wondering if the tenderness in her heart showed on her face. “I need you.”<
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“I’m glad.”
“Damn it. I need more of you inside me.”
“I’m not a play toy, Sara.” He sounded hurt, but his thumb kept doing marvelously imaginative things to her and her breasts ached so much for his touch that when he finally took her into his mouth, she had to…she had to…. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
She was so close.
And then he trailed his fingers upward to her breasts. His tone soft, he said, “I love you, Sara.”
“What!”
“I love you.”
He couldn’t love her. They’d only known one another a day. But the way she felt right now wasn’t exactly the time to be thinking. He’d kindled every cell of her body into a wildfire and he was having this impossibly sincere conversation. But she couldn’t talk. Her mouth had no moisture. Her lungs were starved for air.
“Please, Kendar.” She lifted her hips, attempting to take him inside her. “We can talk later.”
“Okay,” he agreed but then he pushed her bottom back onto his knees, captured her breasts in his hands, his words soft and sexy, holding her somewhere between bliss and outrage. “Tell me you feel the same way I do.”
“I…can’t.”
“Ah sweet Sara. I want more from you.” He nuzzled her neck with his lips, blowing a waft of cool air below her ear. She leaned into him, tried to kiss him, but couldn’t quite reach his mouth.
She frowned at him, confused. From his physical state, there could be no doubting that he wanted her. Apparently, he wanted more from her emotionally than she was willing to give. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “You didn’t mind casual sex yesterday.”
“I’m smarter today.”
“Or more stupid.” Furious with him for making her hot enough to shatter and then asking her to face issues better left alone, she yanked away from him, spun on her heel and bent to pick up her clothes. His hand snagged her waist and he yanked her against him so that her back was to his chest. His hands closed over her breasts, cupping her.
The Hope Chest Page 23
