Just in Time: Portals of Time (18 page)

“Man, I don’t like hearing that,” Luke told her. And neither would Dorian.

“NOTHING?” JESS ASKED
incredulously. ”There was
nothing
on his computer?”

Dorian watched Jess and Helen deflate before her eyes. Their shoulders sagged and they seemed to just…droop from where they sat close on the couch in the family room. Everyone had been hoping to receive good news when Celeste, Alisha and Luke returned from their latest pursuit of Craig Krueger.

Perched on a chair, Celeste said gently, “Nothing about you, Jess.”

“Do we have the wrong man?” Helen asked.

“I don’t think so. Celeste read him and believes we’re on the right track.” Luke’s face was somber and he was pacing, which only made everyone else edgier.

Pointing to her handheld computeller, Helen asked, “Are you sure there’s nothing on that thing about Krueger?”

“We told you before, Helen, no. I seek your forgiveness.”

“I’m not ready to give up,” Celeste put in.

“You’re
not
going to be alone with that man again.” Alisha surprised them all with the statement. “What I
did
find on his drive hard was enough to keep you away from him.”

Jess angled his head. “What did you find?”

“Pornography. From what I understand, this type of thing is common in your time period. But his was of the sadistic- masochistic kind. I’m not letting Celeste near him.”

“I can handle myself.”

Dorian and Alisha, who’d been studying the notes she’d taken, said simultaneously, “No, you can’t.”

Celeste rolled her eyes. She was the best of all three of them at affecting some of the gestures of the time. “He’s plotting to murder Jess. I feel it.”

Turning her face into her husband’s shoulder, Helen whimpered.

“I seek your forgiveness, Helen, but things have to be said aloud. Besides, now that we know Krueger’s proclivities, we can use them against him if need be.”

“Oh, yeah, like we’re going to let you dress up as a dominatrix.” Luke’s voice was full of sarcasm, but it was easy to see his tone disguised worry.

Three blank faces. Then,

“What is that?”

“A what?”

“Oh, dear Nord.”

While Helen explained the term, Luke shook his head. “Since we didn’t get anywhere tonight, I’m going to arrange for the private security firm I’ve been in contact with to implement protection permanently. I asked Dick Anderson to stand by.” He pulled out his phone. “Because we know that the…attempt will happen in a few weeks, a team will be in front and back of the house 24/7 until this is over.”

Dorian felt heat rise inside her. “What do you think you’re doing? I can protect Jess when I’m here. We can use Anderson when I’m not.”

“We’re all exhausted,” Luke explained impatiently. “We need time to regroup. Plan. We’ll be distracted with getting to Krueger, so I’m calling in reinforcements.”

Dorian raised her chin. “Why is this your decision?”

“Because I know best.”

“I object.”

“You can object all you want, doll, but it’s
a fait accompli.”

“Whatever the hellor that means,” she snapped. How could this man incense her so easily? She hated that.

Jess stood and crossed to her. “Dorian, I appreciate all you’re doing, but Luke’s right. We’re tired, we’re disappointed. It won’t hurt to have the house staked out for a while. Especially since we know when…it’s going to happen.”

His plea soothed her some toward
him
, but she was still angry at Luke’s autocracy.

A small voice in her head told her she was manufacturing the ire against him because the more they were together, the more they agreed, the closer she felt to him.

“One security man will accompany you and Dorian to work,” Luke pronounced as he held up the phone. Someone else will watch over Helen, too, when I’m running down leads. Who knows what these people will do? So I’m getting coverage for all of you.”

Dorian stopped protesting. And Luke punched in the buttons.

Anderson must have answered on the other end, because Luke said, “Hey, buddy. I’m gonna need you tonight…Oh, great. See you shortly.”

Jess asked, “Are they coming?”

“Yeah, Dick’s with one of them now. Both of them are coming. He’d freed up his schedule and was waiting to hear from me.”

“Wasn’t he a cop with you a while ago?” Jess asked.

“Yeah, we got in some tight spots. I bailed him out a couple of times.”

The trouble probably had to do with women. And sex. The notion caused Dorian further pique.

“Megadamn you, Luke.” With that, she turned and headed for the stairs that led to the lower floor. She rarely reacted with anger, but this man had been unsettling her, arousing her and brushing off her opinions for too long. She simply couldn’t be in his company any longer tonight.

“WOMEN!” LUKE THOUGHT
as he drove his SUV back to his place in lower Brooklyn instead of staying at Jess’s. He was afraid what he’d do if he was there in the same house with Dorian.

“So, she’s pissed. Who cares? At least they’re all safe.
She’s
safe.” Though he’d kept it to himself, for a while now, he’d been obsessing about the danger all three women had put themselves in. Especially Dorian, who dove in front of a moving car to save Jess. Now, that thought was intolerable. Probably one of Luke’s best traits was that he never kidded himself and he knew what he was feeling.

When he swerved into the other lane, he realized he was preoccupied, so he waited until he could pull into a rest area. Shutting off the engine, he slid down the windows, letting the cool night air soothe him. He lay his head back against the seat.

Fuck, this was a mess. The slicing fear that Jess’s death was to occur sometime in the next few weeks combined with what he’d come to feel for Dorian was haunting him. He wasn’t thinking clearly and he bet she wasn’t, either. So he’d put in place Plan B. They needed help from Anderson, no matter how mad she got. He’d been right, damn it.
Mega
damn it.

A sudden fatigue swept over him and he wasn’t surprised. His sleeping had been interrupted by fear for Jess and desire for Dorian. Raising the windows and locking the doors, he closed his eyes just for a few minutes…

Dorian approached him. She was wearing a short see-through nightgown. Beneath it were generous breasts, a nipped-in waist and curvy hips. When she came up to the bed, he got instantly hard. He reached for her…

The blast of a horn from the road had him bolting up in the car. His chest hit the steering wheel with a thump.

Luke looked around, trying to get his bearings. When he realized where he was and that he’d been dreaming about her, he started the engine and spat out, “Fuck this!”

THOUGH IT WAS
late, and her neck was cramping, Dorian stared at the history chips on the computeller and sighed. Like Alisha, she could find nothing about the exact date of Jess’s death.

She wished she could travel several weeks ahead in time and search this period’s Internet to find out the method, date and time of it. Alisha would never allow that even if they could find a portal through the computeller to match the current date. Still, she might talk to her friend and see what they could determine.

Exhausted, she rose from the desk and turned on the video box. Though she’d never
vagued out
(their term) in front of it, she dropped down on the couch and searched the channels. Her eye caught on something that interested her. A
Star Trek
movie. She recognized it because Celeste had been remarking—maybe a little too much—how Alex Lansing resembled the captain of the ship.

Dorian watched their portrayal of the future with interest. Huh, they had something like a Multimed unit, which they used to fix inner organs, tendons and muscles. Then the plot turned to time travel. The spaceship jettisoned back in time by breaking the speed barrier—which had been proved to be impossible by her time period. What the hellor? They traveled in time to today to retrieve whales and bring them to the present so they could communicate with a threatening alien probe?

Dorian thought about the possibility of life on other planets. By 2200, communication with extraterrestrial species had been attempted, and then the pollution got so bad, any kind of space travel or interest in it became irrelevant.

As she watched the characters arrive and be weakened by the jump to the present, she said, “You got that right.” Since she was talking to them, she added, “But you really shouldn’t go back in time. You might meet a brown-eyed devil who throws your hormones into havoc.”

When even a video reminded her of Luke, Dorian turned off the box and stood abruptly. She refused to dwell on Lucas Cromwell. Instead, she strode to the bathing room and decided on a hot shower. She and Celeste had used water for this purpose sparingly, still conscious of how these people squandered their natural resources. But tonight, she was lured into being showered in the precious commodity.

As soon as the spray hit her head, she immediately calmed. Taking a dollop of what Helen called shampoo, Dorian lathered her hair. For some reason, all of their hair had grown about a half inch per week. Alisha trimmed hers but Dorian and Celeste decided to let theirs grow longer to see what it looked like.

The soap felt luxurious. Its lavender scent filled the small space. Her scalp breathed. Suddenly she wondered what it would feel like to have her head massaged by someone. By Luke. His hands would be gentle, despite the hardening of them in spots. They would knead and press and bring forth sensations that would be paradoxically calming and arousing at the same time. Eventually, she rinsed.

Using the soap bar, which smelled like the shampoo, she began to wash her skin. She caressed her breasts. Suddenly, again, she was bombarded by the memory of having Luke’s hands there, massaging her. It had felt so wonderful, so much more than she’d ever experienced in joining with another man. An awareness of that sensation bathed her as much as the water.

Without her conscious intent, her hands slipped lower over sensitized skin. She felt her ribs, her stomach—flat and taut—which would contract at Luke’s touch. Her hands went lower. Luke would cover her here and press. Make small circles, first gently, then with increasing need. His breath would speed up like hers, and his body would tighten.

Megadamn, what was she doing? She’d made her need of release even greater. She could do it herself right here, of course, or use her vagino—each brought one with them—but tonight, that whole method of satisfaction was unappealing.

She shut off the water, left the shower space and picked up a towel. She missed the drying tube, and—oh, hellor—the abrasion of real cotton on her skin was stimulating. As if she needed more. Maybe she’d take care of this problem herself, after all. Wrapping the towel around her, she left the bathing room and entered the sleeping room to use the device.

And stopped short. “Oh!”

Slouched in the chair next to her sleeping conformer was Luke Cromwell, all masculine grace and arrogance, the latter proved true by his sensual perusal. He took his time; each area of her body he scanned reacted to his gaze…her mouth, her breasts, lower, and lower. After he finished, he said silkily, “Come here, Dorian.” He arched a brow and megadamn, if that wasn’t sexy. “And lose the towel.”

LUKE THOUGHT HE
might swallow his tongue when she came out of the bathroom like some starlet in a grade B science-fiction movie, which wasn’t a bad comparison, given their situation. The dim lamp from the corner of the room bathed her in an ethereal glow, outlined every supple curve he’d only imagined she had. Those thoughts—and a freaking erotic dream that would drive any healthy man crazy—had brought him here like some caveman, come to claim his woman.

She’d stilled at his command, and his gaze took her in. Could she be any more alluring, her skin still damp from the shower, her hair slicked back off her face, her features sharp and beautiful? For an eternity, she watched him, as if deciding… Ah, now she walked toward him, her head held high, her lips parted, her eyes glowing. She stopped in front of him, looked down, as he was still seated. He swallowed hard at the raw desire in her eyes that had him reaching for the towel. His big hand looked very male against her skin as he unknotted the white terrycloth. It slid down her body as it fell to the floor.

His intake of breath was instantaneous, and his hands went to her waist. He leaned forward and kissed her ribcage. Her fingers slid into his hair, threading though it, massaging his scalp. Moaning, he drew back, said, “Straddle my lap,” and tugged her close. The chair was wide, thank God, and she maneuvered herself onto him. The sensation of having her in his lap, while she was naked and he was fully clothed, made his body buck.

Her eyes widened. “Oh!”

He growled. Nuzzled his nose between her breasts, licked her there. She smelled of soap, but Dorian had a scent of her own, too, all foreign and exotic, and his mind tripped with the fantasy of a king and a harem girl, who belonged to him.

She kissed his head and he moved his mouth to her breast. Most of the time, she kept these bound with cloth, except for that night in the dressy dress when she’d worn a bra. Now, unfettered, her breasts were plump and womanly. He took a nipple into his mouth, tugged on it with his teeth, and she jolted. “Oh, Nord. That feels so good.”

He stopped. Looked up. “Don’t you…in the future?”

“Yes, but sex then is more scripted, more clinical. Don’t stop.”

Grinning—he’d be damned if he wouldn’t be special—he treated the other breast to the same attention. Then, he pushed her away again. “Here,” he said. “Sit on my lap. Swivel around so both of your legs face one way.” He helped her maneuver. “Now part them.”

“What…? Luke, what are we doing?”

“Lie back on my arm. Spread your legs.”

“Why?”

“Jesus Christ, you don’t know what I’m going to do, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re in for a treat, baby.”