Heart's Delight

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Heart’s Delight ISBN # 1-4199-0487-6 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Heart’s Delight Copyright© 2006 Margrett Dawson. Edited by Ann Leveille. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: January 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated S-ensuous by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

HEART’S DELIGHT Margrett Dawson

Trademarks Acknowledgment The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: google: Google, Inc. Jaguar: Jaguar Cars Limited The Sopranos: Time Warner Entertainment Thermos: Thermos-Gesellschaft M. B. H.

Heart’s Delight

Chapter One The first indication there was something strange about the mirror was the music. She’d wrestled it home from the antique store the day before her birthday. Her grandfather had ordered it for her just before he died, with instructions for it to be ready on June 20. Sweating with the effort, she extricated the mirror from the rear of the pickup and dragged it into the house, propping it against the empty wall in the living room. She grabbed a glass of water and sank onto the couch to catch her breath. The thing had to weigh a good fifty pounds, and she’d need to put in some wall anchors to hold it. But it looked good. It made the room seem even bigger and reflected the light that struggled through the bushes outside. The glass was obviously old, with a lovely wavy, gray sheen to it. The ornate frame had never been painted, so the patina of the well-aged wood gleamed. She half closed her eyes and imagined it hanging in an Edwardian drawing room, reflecting soft gaslight as elegant ladies danced and flirted to a three-piece orchestra. She could hear the music. She hummed along to an old waltz tune. Her eyes flew open. The music was real. She sat up straighter and put her glass on the side table, listening intently. The tune slowly faded and finished in a jangle of sound. She let out her breath. The ice cream truck. She gave a small laugh. Sometimes when the wind was in the right direction she could hear traffic from the town across the lake. For a moment there, she’d have sworn the sound was coming from the mirror. Living alone must be making her fanciful. There was no time for imaginary music. There were practical things to do, like taking Star into the stable, checking on the other horses, then catching up on some paperwork. She sighed and heaved herself off the couch. Maybe the accounts would show a better balance this month and she could get more help. But first she went to the toolbox that had belonged to her grandfather. At the bottom she found a package of wall screws, neatly labeled. Gramps had been a stickler for neatness and order. It made him seem closer if she kept his tools in good condition. She took hold of a wall plug and picked out the hammer. Eyeing the bare expanse above the cold fireplace, she chose a spot that would be just within her reach if she stood on a stool. She wrestled the mirror up onto the mantel and managed to anchor it. When it was hung at last she flexed her sore biceps. “My goodness,” she said aloud, looking into the 5

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glass. “You’re giving me quite a workout.” A faint movement rippled across the surface. She turned in surprise. The curtain on the opposite wall must have moved in the air from the open window. “Elaine, you dummy,” she muttered to herself, “did you leave it open again?” She tried to remember to close the window when she left the house, because it was at ground level and gave direct access into her living quarters. She had been so used to Gramps always being home she’d grown careless. With three quick steps she reached the window and lifted the curtain to check the latch. It was firmly closed. The draft must have come from elsewhere. “Way to go,” she whispered. She might be fanciful and she might be broke, but at least she wasn’t absentminded. She headed outside, where Star waited for her impatiently at the gate to the paddock. “That hungry?” Elaine said and took the halter to lead the horse into the stable. She leaned her head on the mare’s belly as she brushed her smooth, brown coat. “How’s your baby doing?” she whispered in the mare’s ear. Star snuffled against her face. It took a while to feed and water the other three animals she was boarding. She had six empty stalls and she needed more customers, but there was no way she could take on more alone. As it was, exercising and grooming four horses took all her time. The weeds outside the stable block were growing high, she noticed. Maybe Tom Haynes would come and cut them, if he wasn’t too grand now he was in grade ten. She opened a can of soup for supper and ate it in front of the cold fireplace. The mirror was angled so she could see her head and shoulders and the room behind. She liked the way she looked in the old glass. It softened her features, catching highlights in her dark hair as if a candle glowed beside her. The room it reflected seemed larger, more comfortable than in reality. It created exactly the kind of atmosphere she wanted in her home. One day she’d have lots of beautiful pieces. She worked at her computer for a couple of hours after supper. Around nine o’clock she saved the pages of figures and heaved a sigh, stretching out her shoulders. Things were marginally better than she’d expected, but there still wasn’t enough money to hire permanent help. Like the bank manager had explained, the sensible option was to sell. He’d leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a beady eye. “Let’s face it,” he’d said. “If you sell out to the developers, you’ll make enough to start somewhere else.” “Not enough to keep horses and provide the classes for the children.” He’d shrugged. “Maybe someone else could do that. There are lots of charities in British Columbia that help mentally challenged youngsters.” “Thank you, Mr. Newman.” She’d stood up, clasping her papers to prevent him seeing how her hands were shaking. “I’ll find another way. I’m not selling.”

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She shut down the computer. Picking up her glass of water, she pushed back from the desk and stood by the window. The shadows had lengthened and a soft breeze stirred the tall trees around the paddock. She loved this place, she loved what she did. There had to be a way to save it all. As if drawn by a magnet, she moved back to the mantel and gazed into the mirror, lost in her thoughts. There. The curtain must have moved again because there was a shimmering in the glass just as before. She glanced behind her. Nothing stirred. She returned her attention to the mirror and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. At first it was like gazing into a dark pool where half-seen creatures moved lazily. Slowly, shapes appeared in the depths, moving and coalescing as they became clearer, until she was staring through a window into an old-fashioned drawing room filled with stuffed furniture and small tables. A piano stood in one corner, and a large green plant occupied a space by the door, its broad leaves gleaming in the soft light. Gas mantles burned on two of the walls and more illumination seemed to come from somewhere else in the room. This was not a reflection of her disordered living room. She stepped up to the glass to peer into it. It was like looking at an old photograph. There was no sound, only the faint flickering of the light. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before, but strangely, she was not frightened by what she saw. The room she watched was calm and peaceful. It looked well used and comfortable, as if waiting for people to return to it. She squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them again, the room was gone. There was her computer over in the corner, her glass of water on the side table, a set of reins that needed repair thrown over the back of a chair. All trace of the mysterious room had vanished. She’d imagined the mirror as coming from an old house and that’s what her tired brain had served up to her. She was stressed and worried and she’d never lacked imagination. For weeks her mother had believed she had a best friend called Mary Belle, until she heard Mary Belle lived in a hollow in the rock garden. After that, Elaine had learned to keep her imaginary friends and exploits to herself. Nonetheless, she paused before the wooden frame before she went to bed. “Good night,” she whispered.

***** The next morning the mirror reflected nothing but her own face and her own living room. She called Tom Haynes about the yard work and thankfully he agreed to come if she could pick him up. As she drove to Tom’s house she passed Blackie’s Antique Shoppe and pulled in on a whim.

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Joe was crouched over, sorting through a box of blackened silver. He glanced up as she entered the shop. “Joe” she said, “what do you know about that mirror I picked up yesterday?” Joe looked at her warily. “What’s the matter with it?” “Nothing, nothing at all. I was just wondering if you had any background on it.” She fished in her mind for a word. “Provenance, don’t they call it?” Joe snorted with laughter and clambered to his feet. “It was in a pile of old junk that I took out of the Masterton House in Victoria before they pulled it down. All built over now with a shopping mall. Since the mirror was in one piece, I cleaned it up and put it up for sale.” “So you’ve no idea where it might have come from originally?” “Nope.” “It couldn’t have come from a funhouse, could it? You know, a place with trick mirrors?” Joe looked annoyed. “Look, Ellie, I told you I got it myself when they tore down the house. If you don’t believe me—” “I do, I do,” she said hastily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.” She turned to leave, then thought of something else. “Do you still have any of the rest of the things from the Masterton House?” Joe shook his head. “Not much…wait.” He headed for the back of the store. “Just this old photograph.” He blew the dust from a black frame and handed her a faded picture. Elaine rubbed the glass with her sleeve. It showed a room with a large green plant and furniture just like she’d seen in the mirror. She stared at it, searching her mind for the details of the room she’d observed last night. She couldn’t possibly have imagined this very room. But she had. It was the same in every detail, except for the fact this one had people in it. She’d imagined the room as waiting for its occupants and here they were, in a family grouping, all in shades of sepia. On the couch, facing the camera, sat a woman in long skirts. Her arm lay protectively ‘round the shoulders of a boy and a young girl was at her side. Just behind her, a tall man with a walrus mustache stared solemnly straight ahead. “How much?” Elaine asked. Joe looked surprised. “The frame’s still good—” he began. “I’ll give you five.” He opened his mouth as if to bargain, then smiled. “Done. Shall I wrap it?” “No, don’t bother. It’s fine the way it is.” She fished out a five-dollar bill. “Did you ever see anything strange in the mirror?” “What kind of strange?”

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“Just—shapes.” Joe stuffed the money in his pocket and turned back to his silverware. “That old glass distorts.” “Right, that must be what it is.”

***** Elaine picked up Tom and drove home. Her first impulse was to run inside and wait for the mystery room to reappear so as to compare it with the picture, but she made herself complete all the chores first. Of course it all took longer because she was working alone and she was still busy in the afternoon when her friend, Maggie, brought the children from the summer camp for their lessons. Partway through the session, when the children were sitting on the grass sipping from juice boxes, Elaine took Maggie’s arm. “Two minutes,” she said. “I need you to look at something.” She called to Tom, still hacking away at weeds, “Take a break, Tom, and watch the kids for two minutes, will you?” Thankfully, Tom put down his tools and went to sit with the children under the shade tree. Elaine dragged Maggie into the living room. “There,” she said. “There’s the old mirror Gramps ordered for me for my birthday.” Maggie made a face, pushing out her lower lip. “Hmm. Not bad.” “Not bad? It’s great. I love it. But look into it.” Her friend peered closer and pushed back a tendril of hair. “It distorts a bit.” “What do you see?” “My hair needs a trim. Do you think I should get it cut? There’s a smudge on my nose—” “No, no. Do you see my living room?” Maggie turned her eyes to Elaine. “Of course I see your living room, what do you expect me to see?” “Nothing. It’s nothing.” She sighed. “You have time for a cold drink, don’t you?” Maggie shrugged and followed her into the kitchen, still talking about the mirror. “Not my taste of course,” she said. “But I know you like that ornate, clunky stuff. Here, I brought you some really useful presents.” She held out two small packages. Elaine held the gift boxes in her palm with a premonition of what they contained. She forced a grateful smile for her friend. “Pretty wrapping. Thanks, Mags. What are they?” Maggie grinned. “Open them and find out. Happy birthday.” Elaine tore off the paper and ribbon and opened one of the boxes. Two metal objects the size and shape of ping-pong balls lay snugly cushioned in red silk. “Dare I ask?” She lifted the objects by the silk cord that joined them. 9

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“Pleasure balls.” Maggie sat on a kitchen chair, closed her eyes and stretched her arms behind her head. “Just insert them and enjoy.” “Excuse me?” Maggie opened one eye and grinned. “You slip them in, and as you walk around all day…” She rubbed her palms together. “Heavenly feelings, just where you need them. Magic.” Elaine put the box down on the table. The little metal balls chimed together on a musical note. “And you chime like a bell?” Maggie sat up, planting her boots on the floor. “No. Inside there, it’s all soft and very wet, believe me. Only you can feel them. Then when you get home, you can take them out, if you can bear it, and use something else. Like the Benwa balls in the other box. They’re smaller so you can actually do it with them in if you want.” Something else. Upstairs there was a whole drawer full of unused toys Maggie had insisted would make her loneliness more bearable. As if anything could ever replace flesh and blood. Elaine shook her head. “I don’t think so, Mags. It’s kind of you and all that, but not for me.” She picked up the boxes again and held them out to her friend. “You take them.” Maggie shoved back her mop of hair and stood, shaking her head. “Nope. Got my own set. And well used they are.” She gave Elaine a wink. “Got the pleasure balls in right now.” She wiggled her hips in her snug jeans. “Hot date with Jake tonight. He loves it when I prepare the ground, so to speak.” Despite herself, Elaine felt a little trickle of moisture between her legs at the thought. She swallowed. Maggie pushed her friend’s hand away. “You keep them with the other stuff.” She sipped the lemonade Elaine had put on the table. “No telling what could happen in the second part of the year, is there?” She nodded toward the empty fireplace. “I must say I envy you the open fire for the cold months. Makes you think of what you could do on a soft rug.” She took three steps to the door. “Better get back to the kids.” At five Elaine hugged the children goodbye. “Did you have fun?” she asked Jessica with the curly red hair and the button nose. “You bet,” said the five year old. She ran to fling her arms ‘round Star’s neck and the horse bent obligingly. Maggie stood with the small group of kids around her. “Time to go, guys,” she called. “I’ll give you a ride, Tom, if you’re ready.” The boy picked up his backpack. Maggie gave Elaine a hug. “Thanks again,” she said. “It means such a lot to them and it’s so good for them.” 10

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“I hope so.” “Of course. I can see their coordination and their confidence improve every time.” She ushered the children into a blue minivan, checked their seat belts and swung into the driver’s seat as Tom climbed into the passenger side. “See you.” She pulled away with a wave. “Call me,” Elaine yelled. “Will do.” Elaine stood for a moment watching the van disappear into the trees. So no one else could see what she saw in the mirror. Whatever it was, it was just for her. After Maggie had left, Elaine’s thoughts were constantly on the mirror. She rushed through all the thousand and one tasks that must be attended to in caring for animals, anxious to see what the mirror would reveal next. It had started gently with her, letting her hear some faint music, then showing her the empty room. As soon as the horses were settled she sat on the couch, willing the mirror to perform its magic. It was the solstice. It was her birthday. The moon was nearly full. Surely one of these circumstances would help? Her wish was granted. The shadows gathered in her room and light began to glow behind the mirror until the scene through the glass was completely illuminated. On the other side she could see the back of a clock with a winding key and a pair of candlesticks. She pinched her arm. She was definitely awake. This wasn’t a dream. As she watched, a door opened a maid scurried in and ducked below the mirror. Elaine assumed she was sweeping the hearth. Then the girl stretched up beside the mirror and the light increased. Extra gas fixtures had to be on either side of the glass. Elaine stared, fascinated, scarcely daring to breathe as the first girl left and another maid, dressed in a crisp uniform, returned to set a tray of cups and an ornate teapot on a table. Barely a minute later, the family arrived. They entered the room together, talking softly, and sat for a while, chatting and listening while a young woman, presumably the daughter, took her place at the piano and began to play. The same faint melody that Elaine had thought came from the ice cream truck tinkled into the silence. Had she heard the afternoon practice session? The mother sewed, and the younger boy sprawled on the rug with a toy. The man smoked a cigar and read a newspaper, occasionally lifting his head to make a comment. It was clear that the family she saw through the glass was the same one as in the old photograph. The children were younger in the mirror and the woman had no gray in her hair. The man had to undo the buttons of his waistcoat over a small, round belly, but they were the same people. Were they Mastertons? Who could give her information about the family and their lovely house that was gone, replaced by a shopping mall? It was like watching an episode of Upstairs, Downstairs, but without the sound. Try as she might, Elaine could not make out the words or the clear notes of the music. A low

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murmur was her only clue when someone spoke, and a faint, harmonious tinkle accompanied the pianist. She no longer felt amazement and awe at the fact that she could see through the mirror to this dream world. From being content to observe, to absorb the details the mirror allowed her to see, she now longed to speak to them, to ask them more about their lives. As the daughter finished a piece of music the father stood, letting his newspaper drop in a heap beside him. He pulled out a watch and glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Where the dickens is he tonight?” he barked. For the first time, the words were clear and Elaine started at the sound. The woman gave an audible sigh and laid her sewing in her lap. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon, dear.” The fair-haired boy sprang to his feet. “I can hear him. Here comes Uncle Quinn now.” He danced over to the door, arriving just as it flew open and a younger man appeared. He was tall and slim and most elegantly dressed. Even Elaine could see the difference in the quality of his clothes compared to those of the man of the house. He caught the boy in mid-run and swung him off his feet. “Hallo there, young Edward,” he said. “Just off to bed are you?” He tickled the child under the ribs and the boy squealed in delight. “No, no, just one story,” he pleaded. Quinn tucked Edward under one arm and turned to the adults. “Evening, Margaret, Walter.” The man cleared his throat and stuck his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. Quinn deposited Edward back on the rug and took a seat next to the woman. “You’ll be pleased to know,” he said, “that I have had serious talks with some very interesting business acquaintances at the Cariboo Gold Company. I’ll have good news in a few days.” His voice carried the clipped consonants and long vowels of the British upper classes, softened by a pleasant burr. “Quinn,” the woman said, a troubled frown on her face, “are you sure, dear? Will the money be safe? It’s all you have.” “Safe as houses, don’t you fret.” He patted her hand and leaned back, stretching out splendid legs in well-cut boots, and accepted a cup of tea. “But first, this young man demanded a story. What shall it be today, young master Edward?” The boy sat cross-legged on the rug and considered. “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,” he announced. “Ah, an excellent choice. One of my favorites from Mister Verne.” He took a book from a shelf, sat forward and began to tell the story, never glancing at the pages open on his lap.

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The group listened with rapt attention. Even Walter sat down again and left his newspaper where it lay. The storyteller held the stage, standing occasionally to emphasize a point, letting Elaine feast her eyes on wide shoulders and slim hips. What was his relationship to this family? The boy had called him “uncle” and the woman had laid her hand affectionately on his arm. How wonderful it would be to have someone like that by her side once more, Elaine thought. Someone who was bright and cheerful and made her laugh in the long, dull evenings she faced alone. Suddenly, Quinn had stopped talking and Edward was pleading for more. “No more tonight, you young scallywag,” Quinn said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Go to your mother and let her put you to bed.” “Promise some more tomorrow?” “I promise.” The woman left with the child and the others rose to bid each other good night. Walter lowered the gaslights and came to the mirror to take a candlestick from the mantel, passing it to the young man. Quinn moved closer to the mirror as he took the light, and Elaine caught her breath. His hair was a golden brown and fell in a wave over his forehead. His jacket was of a very fine dark blue cloth, and he wore a shining white collar. A diamond pin sparkled at his neck. He raised his head and looked straight into Elaine’s eyes through the mirror. His eyes were wide-set, fringed with thick lashes and almost as dark a blue as his jacket. His firm jaw was clean-shaven and high cheekbones gave him a lean, aesthetic look. She shrank back, convinced he could see her as well as she could him. But he gave no sign of noticing anything but his own reflection. He dusted a fleck from the lapel of his jacket and turned to follow the family from the room. After they left, Elaine continued to gaze into the depths of the mirror. She stood on the same spot where she had stopped minutes before, transfixed by the strange vision. Her heartbeat gradually slowed and she drew in a deep breath, relaxing muscles that had tensed involuntarily. As the firelight in the fantasy room faded to a glimmer, she took a step closer to the glass. One candlestick still stood on the mantel on the other side of reality. She stretched out a hand to trace its outline on the mirror. She felt, briefly, the cool resistance of the glass and then her fingers sank through as though through mist. She touched the hard metal of the candle holder, felt its ridges and angles. As if it were fiery hot, she snatched back her hand and stared in disbelief. Not only could she see through the old mirror, but it was no longer a solid barrier between the two worlds. For the second time that evening she squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them again, the room was gone. Her own living space was reflected in the mirror. She touched the glass. It was solid and cold under her fingertips. But the touch of the candlestick, imaginary or not, had been freaky. It was one thing to enjoy a kind of supernatural show from a distance, telling herself it was all some

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quirky fault in the glass combined with a vivid imagination, but quite another to become part of it, to actually feel something from the other world. Her head spun and she pinched her arm. “I’m awake,” she whispered. “Lightheaded,” she scolded herself. “Daydreaming about goblins and elves. Time for something to eat.” Although she wasn’t hungry she quickly made a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich, but all the time she sliced and buttered the bread she kept wondering if the family had reappeared, if Quinn was there, lounging elegantly, entertaining with his deep voice and dramatic gestures. What a man. She’d never seen anything quite like him, except on the stage or the screen. Her mind lingered on the curve of his leg in the slim trousers, the ripple of the muscle in his thigh as he sat and crossed one leg to rest on the other… She flung the remaining cheese and tomatoes unwrapped onto the shelf of the refrigerator and hurried back to the couch with her bedraggled sandwich. She stared into the mirror as if waiting for a movie to start. In a few bites, she’d finished the sandwich, but still she sat, half dreaming. She knew in her heart Quinn was real. He’d come close to the mirror. If she’d known she could touch him, would she have reached out a hand, caressed his cheek, run her fingers through his hair? Would he have traced the outline of her mouth with his fingertips, kissed her? A shiver ran through her at the imagined brush of his lips on hers, the musky scent of his clothes. She shook her head at her reflection. “Get a grip,” she said aloud. She had plenty to do without gazing into a magical mirror on her wall and indulging in sexual fantasies. Maggie’s talk had planted ideas in her head, combined with her emotional memories of Gramps and her own overactive imagination. But the brief interlude with the imaginary family had only served to underline her isolation. The stillness reminded her she had no one to talk to, to share the worries, to help her plan. No matter how she might fantasize about a dream man, there was no one to share her bed. No one to touch her, caress her, kiss her, make her forget the world in a frenzy of passion.

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Chapter Two Elaine made a final tour of the barn before she locked up. The night was clear and still warm. The late afternoon breeze had blown away the few clouds hanging over the lake. The moon was full now, and brighter than she’d seen it for a long time. It was so lovely she stood looking at it, watching the shadows on its surface, bathing in its silvery light. The temperature had dropped as the sky cleared and the sun set. She shivered in her jeans and light sweater and hurried inside. She locked the door and picked up Maggie’s gifts from where they still lay on the kitchen table. She would drop them in the top drawer of the chest in the spare bedroom. But upstairs her hand lingered over the toys in the open drawer. Maggie insisted they would make her feel “s-o-o much better”. She smiled as she heard her friend’s voice in her head. Last Christmas Maggie had given her a vibrator in the shape of a penis, complete with a tiny slit and a ring at the tip. It was still in its box. She picked it up and took it out, feeling the heft and the smoothness of it in her palm. She flicked the tiny switch with her thumb and jumped, almost dropping it, as the thing came to life. She silenced it quickly and stroked the length of it with her fingertips. It even felt like skin, warm and soft. The sight of Quinn in the mirror, even if he’d been conjured up by her own imagination, had been amazingly erotic. Did that mean she was ready to try Maggie’s remedy? Maybe, maybe not. She closed the drawer of the chest and switched off the light, but she kept the vibrator in her hand as she went to her own room. She lay in bed, determined to sleep, but whenever she shut her eyes columns of figures floated in the black space, whirling and spinning like leaves. When she opened them in the dark she saw the young man from the mirror. He smiled at her, his lock of hair falling across his brow, his dark blue eyes fixed on her in the bed. The room was suddenly too hot. She pushed her hair back from her damp brow and turned restlessly. Her body felt heavy and feverish, her breasts swollen and sensitive, the nerves set on fire by the touch of her nightshirt. The sheet tangled around her and she kicked it away from her legs. She felt the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened, and a dull yearning formed low in her abdomen. No! She sat up in bed and clicked on the light to banish the man’s seductive image. She hugged her knees and drew a deep breath. It was very clear. She was as horny as all get-out. Aroused in a way she’d never been since Jordan died. Since his death she’d trained herself to do without sex, filling her head with her work and rolling dead tired

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into bed every night. But her body wasn’t buying the years of suppression any more. The sight of Quinn had unleashed a torrent of feelings. But why not? What was wrong with that? Jordan had been gone too long. She could hardly remember the sound of his voice anymore. She slid back down in the disheveled bed and rolled onto her side. As if with a will of their own her hands began to move. She cupped one breast and fondled the nipple until it stood stiff and hard. Her other hand wandered down her hip and moved in toward her clenched thighs. Gently she thrust her fingers between her legs until they found the soft nub of her clit. She was already wet. The persistent circular motion eased the ache deep inside her, at the same time bringing waves of pleasure. Her legs relaxed and opened. Her fingers spread the lips of her pussy so her clit stood free. As if an unseen hand guided her arm, she reached out for the vibrator on the night table and flicked the switch. It hummed gently in her hand as she stared at it for a long moment. The moment of decision. Wasn’t her birthday the time she expected something new to happen to her? Here goes nothing! Sprawling back on the bed, she lifted her knees, spread her legs wide, and made a gentle, tentative pass across her exposed clit with the vibrating tip. She jumped and let out a gasp and her body begged for more, letting out creamy moisture, ready for whatever might come. Her lips curved in a smile and she closed her eyes as she inserted the tip of the pulsating dildo. It slid deeper, warm and quivering as if it had a life of its own. It felt wonderful. Her cunt had grown tighter, narrower and the toy stretched her deliciously. She felt the tremor as it eased into her, reaching for the special spot deep inside. When it was fully inserted she paused for a moment, enjoying the fullness, the movement, the spread of the wet lips of her pussy. Growing bolder, she slid it in and out of her, relishing the pleasure of being filled so completely by something warm and practically alive. Pulling it out a little more, she let it brush her clit in passing, shivering with each feather touch. One hand was now free to wander again and she fingered the swollen bud of her clit, feeling her need grow, teasing her own body, savoring every throbbing pass of the toy that seemed to find an echoing tremor in every bone. Too soon and yet not soon enough, the surging power of her orgasm took her by surprise, rending her in two with a slamming throb of clenching muscles and clamoring nerve endings. With the last remnant of her conscious brain she switched her toy to a bare quiver and rode her storm to the very last tremor—until she lay spent and gasping. She propped herself on her elbows and raised her groggy head, legs still spread. The pink pleasure machine lay embedded between her thighs. Sitting up, she flicked the switch and it fell still, but continued to fill her while her own nerves and muscles trembled with aftershocks of the earthquake that had thrashed into her.

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Something woke her out of a deep sleep. For a moment she had no idea where she was. She lay motionless, her heart beating wildly. She had left her curtains open and the moonlight was bright in the room, outlining all the shapes in a pearly light, reflecting like a beacon from the dressing table mirror. All her furniture was old, lovingly scraped and cleaned and waxed to a soft gleam. The familiar lines gradually reassured her and she pulled herself up and rested her forehead on her tented knees. A glance at her bedside clock told her it was almost one. She’d been asleep barely an hour, but now she was wide awake. What had she heard or dreamed that had woken her so abruptly? She listened intently, but there were no sounds now that could give her cause for alarm. Still, she knew she should check on the horses. Sometimes a raccoon managed to open a latch with its nimble fingers and slipped into the stalls, looking for food. Star was easily spooked and might need soothing. She slid out of bed and reached for her old robe, frowning as she remembered the mirror and the man who had put such wild ideas into her head and her body. She could still feel the moisture from her arousal and the tug of reawakening desire. Surely it wasn’t something in the mirror that called her from sleep? She belted her robe tightly and pushed back her hair. Maybe she’d imagined touching the candle holder. Maybe it was all another symptom of her stress. Maybe she’d dreamed it all, including the captivating Quinn, who had provoked such abandon in her. Hastily she thrust her bare feet into a pair of shoes, then ventured out to check on the horses. The moonlight was bright enough that she didn’t need a flashlight. There was nothing amiss in the barn, all was tightly locked up. No prowlers, four-footed or otherwise. She spoke reassuringly to the animals and closed everything up, then, shivering in the cool night air, she hurried back to the house and bolted the door behind her. She slipped out of the footwear, remaining in her long robe over the old T-shirt she slept in. The door to the living room was shut and she hesitated a moment, her hand on the knob. She wouldn’t be able to sleep even if she returned to bed. Supposing the Mastertons were there, behind the door, playing out another few minutes in their lives? Suppose Quinn was there, no longer a dream? Suppose she could see him, prove to herself she hadn’t imagined it all? She couldn’t help herself, she would take another look. After all, she didn’t have to go close to the glass. She braced herself for whatever she might see in the mirror and flung open the door, clicking on the lights. The room was silent, the mirror blank. But on her mantel stood a candlestick, the twin of the one she had touched through the glass. She clutched her robe tight to her neck and shivered again, this time with anticipation. The magic of the mirror was real. Maybe it was the candlestick passing

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through the glass that had called her from her sleep. Whatever the explanation, the family would appear again. They had to. The old photograph was propped on a small side table and she left it there. She’d held it last time she’d looked into the mirror, and it hadn’t provided a link to the family. This time she wouldn’t need a prop. Quinn was not in the photograph, but his face was etched clearly in her mind. Her body still felt the languid flush of the orgasm she’d provoked with the vibrator, the delicate flesh between her legs warm and moist, still slightly swollen. Her mind skittered between the image of Quinn and the feel of the dildo deep inside her. The two were becoming inextricably linked. To distract herself, she fussed with the cushions on the couch, found a stool for her feet, spread an afghan over her lap. She placed a notepad and pen at her elbow. Writing everything down as it happened would help her convince herself that whatever she saw might see was real. She scribbled the date and time at the top of the page. Then she turned down her lights, leaving one lamp lit at her elbow. She’d noticed she could see more clearly into the room when her own lights were dim. Her hands crept under the cover and toward her lap. No, no more! It would be far too easy to relax, to let her mind imagine Quinn was here with her, touching her, arousing her… She wanted her wits about her, wanted to take note of everything that happened. She sprang to her feet. Although she rarely drank, maybe a sip of wine would steady her and keep her roving hands occupied. She poured herself a small glass and took a sip. At last, when she could find no more reason to delay, she raised her eyes and looked deep into the mirror. The room in Quinn’s house must have appeared in the few moments it took her to pour the wine. It was fully visible, as if waiting for her to pay attention to it. But it must have been quite late, for the lights were dim there too, and Mr. Masterton’s newspaper lay crumpled beside his chair. Cups still sat on the small tables where the family had left them. A faint sound came from behind the glass and Elaine realized she could hear the ticking of a clock. The whisper of dying coals shifting in the grate of the magic room made her start, sending her wine over the rim of her glass. She grabbed a tissue from her pocket, not taking her eyes from the scene in the mirror. She put her glass down and, despite her promises to herself, drew nearer to the mirror. She had been able to touch, and she could hear what was happening in the room. An object had traversed the glass into her world. She was being drawn more and more into this fantasy realm. Her fingers itched to skim the glass, to see if her hand would pass through it again. She wanted to know if the barrier between her and the Masterton family had gone forever, but her ambivalent feelings rose again and she dared not.

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Suddenly the door to the reflected drawing room opened with a crash and she started back, withdrawing her hand. Quinn rushed into the room. His disheveled hair hung in disarray over his forehead. His elegant clothes were mud-stained and a sleeve hung loose from the fine jacket. The stock around his neck sat awry, but the diamond pin still gleamed. He came close to the mirror and Elaine gasped, taking a step back. One side of his face was covered with a dark bruise and blood dripped from a gash near his eye. He supported one arm, the one with the torn sleeve, as if it pained him to move it. Elaine gazed into his eyes. Her heart did a funny little flip, then began to beat a little faster. He leaned his other elbow on the mantel and pushed back his hair, then pulled out a piece of cloth from a pocket. His eyes still on the glass, he dabbed at the cut over his eye. Bright red stained the white. Elaine bit her lip. The door behind him opened again and Mrs. Masterton appeared, obviously in night attire, a shawl around her shoulders and a candle in her hand. She crossed the room quickly and laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Quinn,” she said in a low voice. “What has happened? What have you done this time?” “Done, dear sister? I have done nothing.” He turned from the mirror. “What has happened is that a man I played cards with accused me of cheating. He sent thugs who set upon me on my way home.” Cards? Cheating? “No,” Elaine whispered aloud. “Quinn wouldn’t cheat.” “And did you?” Mrs. Masterton asked. “I’m disappointed in you, Margaret. If I knew how to cheat in the games they play here, I would never have lost so consistently.” Right. No cheating. But risky card playing. He gave a hollow laugh. “Not very observant footpads, for they left me Father’s pin.” He tucked the diamond more securely into his cravat. “You promised you wouldn’t play,” his sister wailed. “I did indeed, but what else is a man to do in this godforsaken colony? Walter won’t let me into his business. I’ll have no news from the principals of the Cariboo Gold Company before next week. God knows I know nothing of farming or surviving in the bush.” He dabbed at his eye, which had begun to bleed again. “Maybe I should go off and trap beavers and live in a shack—” Margaret gave him a stern look. “Are you sure it was only about cards? Nothing else?” She folded her arms. “Was there a woman involved?” He dabbed at his lip. “Well, there was lady in the bar. I bought her a drink, and one of the fellows got a bit upset—” Elaine heard pounding and raucous shouts.

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“Hush, Quinn.” Margaret placed fingers on his mouth. “There is someone at the door.” “They followed me.” Quinn straightened his jacket. “I can face them.” “No, they’ll kill you.” “Maybe. But I didn’t cheat and I’ll fight to prove it.” “Don’t be foolish. Use your head, for goodness’ sake. There are several of them.” Indeed, it sounded as if a large group was now demanding entrance. “Let me get at him!” someone yelled. Margaret lifted her head. “I will deal with them.” She gave a defiant twitch to her shawl and marched toward the door. Good girl, Margaret. You’ve got spunk. As Margaret reached for the door handle, Walter appeared in a dark robe, a nightshirt peeping from under the hem. “What the devil’s going on?” he boomed. “Hush, dear,” said his wife. “Some ruffians—a misunderstanding—” She looked back at Quinn. “Walter and I will send them away. You make yourself scarce.” She ushered her husband from the room and closed the door. Even if Margaret and Walter were successful in stopping the assailants tonight, they might lie in wait for him another day. Who knew what they would do to Quinn if they found him? She searched her memory for any detail on crime in Victoria in the 1800s. Chances were that the city wasn’t all that well policed. Quinn half turned to lean more heavily against the mantel. He rubbed the back of his head as if it hurt. “Godforsaken country,” he muttered. “Damned savages. Damned head making me dizzy.” A crash sounded from beyond the door. Loud voices rose in protest. Quinn looked around and seized the remaining candlestick, brandishing it like a weapon. He was hurt and in danger. Without a second thought Elaine stretched out her hand. It passed through the glass over the mantel, causing a shimmer on the surface. She tapped him on the shoulder. He turned in surprise and she extended her hand to him. As if in a dream, he stretched out his hand. She clasped it firmly and drew him toward her. He gasped in astonishment and she felt the shift in his weight as he stepped up on a stool to peer at her. With a grin, the remaining candlestick still firmly in his grasp, he climbed onto the ledge of the chimney mantel. With no effort at all she pulled him through the glass and into her living room. Quinn scrambled over the wooden rim and hopped down into what he supposed were part of the servants’ quarters. Who would have thought that staid sister Margaret would have a bolt-hole built into her living room? Or was it Walter who might need to make a quick getaway? Sly devil. He turned his head to look back at the wall through which he’d escaped. Pretty good. The mirror was a perfect fit. Solid-looking. It had swung back into place without

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him even realizing it. It cut out all the sound from the other side too, so presumably his pursuers couldn’t hear him. Pity he’d had to turn tail, though. No matter, beggars can’t be choosers. He straightened his jacket and then remembered that his sleeve was half ripped off. Damned nuisance. This was his one good suit. He replaced the candlestick he held in his fist next to its mate. As he gazed into the mirror, flicking dust from his sleeve, he caught a movement reflected in the glass. He whirled ‘round. He was not alone. A young woman sat on the couch in a pose of frozen horror and watched him as if he’d appeared from the mouth of Hades. Must be one of the kitchen maids. Was she the one who’d helped him through the hole? It had all happened so fast— “Sorry to bother you.” Quite a pretty little thing she was, with nice chestnut hair and blue eyes that looked as if they’d beheld a ghost. Pity he hadn’t seen her around the house before. She added greatly to the decor. “Bit of a rude entry, I’m afraid. I’ll leave you my coat,” he said, unbuttoning it as he spoke. “Just get it mended for me, would you? Then I’ll be on my way. Point me in the direction of the back door, there’s a good girl.” He threw the blue jacket on the seat beside her and she gave a little start, then put one hand to her throat and shook her head wordlessly. “Look, I didn’t mean to frighten you, but you’d better get rid of me before Cook finds you with a man. Don’t want to lose your position, do you?” She found her tongue. “I pulled you through.” He remembered the hand. “So it was you? Couldn’t see the face. Mighty enterprising of you. Just in the nick of time, I’d say. I’ll have to find out how that works when I’m a bit less pressed for time. Now I’m going to make myself scarce for a few days.” He strode toward the door. “Is this the way?” “It’s different,” she said. “Everything’s different. You can’t go that way.” “What are you talking about, girl?” He was disappointed. Most of Margaret’s servants seemed a bit lacking in the mental department and this one was no exception. It must be hard to find good help in the Colonies. The conversation was giving him a chance to look at her some more and what he saw confirmed his first impressions. She was wearing a long robe of a bluish color, her neck was smooth and creamy and she’d cinched the gown around a delightfully narrow waist. If Margaret tidied her up and dressed her right, she’d be able to hold her own in society. Apart from the sad fact of her mental impairment, of course. He liked an intelligent woman beside him even if she was only for tupping. He took another step toward the door and this time she put out a hand to hold his sleeve. What was a man to do? He stopped and turned to her. He spoke kindly, for she could not help lacking wits. “Forgive me, my dear. I’d dearly love to linger with you, but time is pressing, not to mention my pursuers.” 21

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He saw her swallow hard, making a lovely ripple pass down her throat. He caught a flowery scent that made his blood start to hum. “Quinn,” she said. “You’ve come through to a different time.” “Time?” he chuckled. “It’s only been a few minutes since you opened the secret door for me.” He patted his waistcoat. “Reminds me, I pawned my watch. Damned inconvenient.” The mention of the secret door drew his eyes back to the mirror. “It’s damned clever. You’d never know it was a door, would you? I’ve heard of the secret passages in Chinatown but this takes the biscuit.” He retraced a step, leaned forward and ran a hand around the carved wooden edging. “Can’t feel a latch or a hinge. Marvelous.” The girl spoke again. “There aren’t any.” He looked at her. Poor thing. “I daresay it’s too complicated for you, my dear. What’s your name?” “El-Elaine.” He straightened. “Well, Ellie, my girl, this won’t do. You have to show me the way through the kitchens and I’ll be on my way. Don’t forget my coat, there’s a good girl.” The girl stood up and took in a deep breath, which proved very interesting as her breasts moved under the light cotton wrapper, making his loins tighten. “Sit down, Quinn,” she said in a firm voice, “and stop fooling around. You have to listen to me.” Her demeanor had completely changed from just a few minutes ago. She looked him straight in the eye and pointed to the settee thing where she’d been sitting. “I’m not joking,” she said. “This is serious.” Despite himself, he found himself obeying her imperiously pointing finger. “My goodness, Ellie,” he said. “You had me fooled. Thought you were a bit slow, you know.” “I know. And I was in shock for a few minutes. I didn’t know what to say or do when you actually came through.” She sat down on a kind of footstool, arranging the folds of the robe around her legs “Look around you, Quinn. Does this look like part of your sister’s house?” He turned his head to glance at the far corners of the room. There was a fireplace under the mirror just as he expected. The light was dim, but seemed to come from a glowing bulb that didn’t flicker. Over on a desk on the other wall was a big gray box with a glass screen and another black one that was similar, yet not quite the same, stood in a corner. Beside him on an end table a sleek instrument offered no clue as to its purpose. Suddenly it gave off a ringing sound that made him jump. “Never mind,” Ellie said. “The answering machine will take it.” Sure enough, the ringing stopped and a red light appeared on the instrument. Ellie leaned forward. “I don’t know how or why, but you have come through that mirror into the beginning of the twenty-first century.” He shook his head. “Now I do think you’ve lost your wits.” 22

Heart’s Delight

“What day do you think it is?” “Close to midnight on June 21, 1880.” “It’s June 21, but the year is two thousand and five.” It didn’t surprise Elaine in the slightest that it took Quinn a few minutes to understand what she was saying. She’d felt his hand in hers through the glass, but she’d let go when he’d thrust his head and shoulders into the room, scuttling backward ‘til the backs of her legs hit the couch. He wandered around the room, touching everything, picking up small objects then replacing them. He turned to her. “Am I in a real-life Jules Verne adventure?” “It would seem so.” He resumed his inspection of the room. “How could it happen?” “I think it’s something to do with the mirror. A candlestick came through first.” She pointed to the silver holder. He moved back to the fireplace where the two candle holders sat side by side. “So that’s where it is. Margaret couldn’t understand where it had disappeared to.” He touched the metal. “It’s real enough.” He shook his head. “I can’t take it in.” Turning back to her, he pointed to the glass on the side table. “Can I have some of that wine?” She nodded and he drained the glass, then looked around him again, then back at the mirror. “It looks like the mirror in Margaret’s drawing room.” He replaced the empty glass. “I received the mirror yesterday and it seemed as if I could see through it at times.” She didn’t divulge how often she’d sat and watched his sister’s family like some episode of a soap opera in period costume. “Received?” He frowned. “How could you receive a mirror that hung in my sister’s house not fifteen minutes ago?” “It’s not fifteen minutes. It’s over a hundred years. Your sister’s house was demolished some time ago. It was old and in bad repair.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “Poor Margaret,” he said softly. “She was so proud of her house.” He looked at her sharply. “But I still can’t believe this. This isn’t some kind of trick, is it? You’re not in league with those footpads and haven’t slipped me one of those dream pills they sell in Chinatown, have you?” “No, it’s true, although I’m having trouble believing it too.” She stood up. Her knees were still a bit shaky, but not so he would notice. She picked up the photograph. “Look. Is that your sister’s family?” He took it gingerly and leaned forward to peer at it more closely. “That’s Margaret and Walter, with young Edward and Elizabeth. But they look—”

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“Older?” He nodded. “The man who had the mirror, who took it from the house when it was torn down, had the photograph too. He gave it to me. Now do you believe me?” He looked at her for a long moment. “I think I must.” He gazed around the room again and gave a mirthless laugh. “I could write my own fantasy book.” “Please take the photograph. It’s your family. You should have it.” He gave a slow smile that started nerves tingling again. “Thank you. A photograph that doesn’t yet exist. It would scare my poor sister out her wits, but I’ve kept a few secrets from her in my time.” He gazed at the photograph in his hand. “My God,” he said at last. “Who would credit it? What a lark!” He gave a delighted chuckle. “You have the advantage of me,” he said. “All I know is your first name.” “Elaine Christie. I live here.” He obviously remembered his manners and bowed his head. “Quincy Alexander Lockyer, at your service.” He looked around again. “Are you alone? No husband, no servants?” “My husband—” Dared she tell him she was completely on her own? She compromised. “Is not here right now. Very few people have servants anymore.” “That so?” He came to sit beside her and she shrank into the corner of the couch. She could sense the warmth of his body and a kind of vibration in the air between them. If he touched her, there was no telling what she might do. He noticed her recoil, misunderstood. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I won’t hurt you. I’m a perfect gentleman.” His gaze lingered on her mouth and she felt her lips soften. Her nipples puckered under the thin fabric of her robe. She hoped to God he wouldn’t notice. He stretched one arm along the back of the sofa, lolling elegantly in the same position she’d seen through the glass. His gray trousers fit closely to his leg, showing the movement of muscle at his thigh. Without his blue coat, his white shirt revealed even more clearly the set of his shoulders. Strange that a seemingly indolent man would seem so powerful in the upper body. His face and neck were tanned and his hair had golden streaks from the sun. The diamond in the cloth at his throat winked in the soft light. The backs of his hands were brown and sinewy. He gazed at her from dark blue eyes. A small buzzing feeling start somewhere in her middle. How was she to deal with this man who frightened her in more ways than one? By all logic, he couldn’t have come from the nineteenth century. And yet here he was with the dress and speech patterns of more than a hundred years ago. Add to that he was one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen, provoking thoughts in her that made her warm all over. There was one hope left. “When it’s safe for you, I think you should go back.”

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His eyes twinkled at her. “I certainly must go back, for I have obligations to meet at home. But if I’m out of my own time, could those ruffians follow?” “I don’t know.” It hadn’t occurred to her that the unseen assailants might burst into her house. “It didn’t seem as if anyone on the other side could see me.” He shook his head decisively. “I certainly couldn’t and in any case Walter wouldn’t let them get that far into the house. So I’m safe here talking to you for a while.” “I suppose so.” He looked around the room again, his gaze lingering longer on the machines. “I think I’m going to enjoy finding things out.” He leaned forward and looked at her earnestly. She could have drowned in the depths of his gaze. “You’ve shown me a photograph that proves my family is safe. That was my major concern. I can spend some time with you in your future world. As long as I’m home by Monday.” Monday! Good Lord! She’d been hot and weak at just the thought of him last night. There was no way she could keep him around for five or six days. He touched her hand, and she felt a shiver spread from her toes up through her middle until the whole of her body tingled. The heaviness which had never truly disappeared burned and throbbed between her legs. Heaven send her the strength to resist him for an hour. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “To tell you the truth, Ellie, I’ve got to the point where I take everything that can happen in my stride, so to speak. I’ve had a bit of a checkered youth, you know. I was wild. Black sheep of the family and all that. So they shipped me off to the Colonies. My sister Margaret was here and took me in until I can make my own way. I was sick as a dog and bored out of my head when I wasn’t terrified out of my mind all ‘round the Horn and up the coast. After that, not much will frighten me, not even a pretty girl in her night attire in the twenty-first century.” He smiled, and the tingle grew into an ache between her legs. A remittance man! Sent to fend as best he could in some place far away where the family wouldn’t be embarrassed by any of his devilment. She snatched her hand away and stood up abruptly. “We’ll wait an hour or so, then you can try going back.” He rose to his feet and stood close enough to her that she could see the faint shadow of stubble beginning to appear on his jaw. “If you say so. This is your house.” He sketched a bow, inclining slightly from the waist. She felt the warmth radiating from him and bit her lip. When he moved she caught the scent of musk and lavender and mellow tobacco smoke, blending in an intoxicating mixture that made her head swim. She had never felt this almost uncontrollable urge to push him back down on the couch and to straddle his thighs, opening her warm, wet pussy to him under the loose robe… I want…I want…

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He lifted his hand and brushed the dried blood from his forehead. Good. She could find something to distract her from the lustful thoughts that filled her head. “You need to see to that cut over your eye. Come this way.” She took him to the downstairs powder room and took out a little first-aid kit. “Not much we can do about the bruise except cold water.” She turned on the tap. “How is the arm?” He gazed at the fittings. “It’s fine,” he said absently. “My elbow’s sore, that’s all.” “Good.” She reached into the medicine cabinet. “This is a tube of antibiotic—” She saw the look of incomprehension. “It will prevent infection. I’ll put some on after we clean it with soap. Sit down.” Obediently, he sat on the stool. She placed a butterfly bandage on the small shelf. He was too close to her in the confines of the narrow room and she felt her heartbeat notch up again. In the mirror of the medicine cabinet she saw the flush rising on her cheeks. She dealt quickly with the cut, then put away the supplies, moving things unnecessarily to refrain from stroking the bruise on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingers… His head was on a level with her chest and she ached to pull him into her, to cradle his head between her breasts. He would put his arms around her and pull her tight against him and nuzzle each breast in turn. Using the vibrator earlier had solved nothing. It had just left an ache that refused to go away and moisture between her legs that flowed stronger every time she touched him. She noticed the flicker of pain on his face when he moved his arm. She pulled herself together. “I have some painkillers that will help with the arm. Can I offer you some coffee, or tea?” “You have coffee?” he sounded surprised. “Yes, why not?” He shook his head. “I haven’t had good coffee in months. I’ll take some.” “If you need anything else—” God, if he needed to use the bathroom, he might not know how to— “Just press this lever if you need to flush the toilet.” She left him to work it out and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen, where she filled a kettle and plugged it in. She stood, her head bowed over the sink, while she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. Dear God, what had she done, bringing this man into her living room? But whatever this attraction was, she was controlling it. She could handle it until he went back through the mirror. “Miss Elaine.” The voice came from behind her and she whirled. “Where’s the cooking stove?” He’d followed her in to the kitchen, the gash over his eye now covered with one of her bandages. The sharp smell of antiseptic soap mingled with the scent of coffee.

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Heaven knew the kitchen was ordinary enough and hadn’t had a facelift for years, but she tried to see it through his eyes. Here we go, she thought as she started to point out the running water, the electric outlets and the microwave. Quinn had an inexhaustible number of questions and she was glad when the coffee was ready. She carried a tray back into the living room and gave him the pills. He took his same seat on the couch. The good news was that reciting the wonders of modern civilization had cooled her blood so she could sit on her footstool and keep her hands off him. While he’d been busy examining everything, she’d made sure her robe was firmly tied and pulled up to her throat. He would be gone in a few minutes and she could go back to bed and dream… “Damned interesting,” he said, taking a mug of coffee from her. “So you can keep food frozen for months and heat it up in minutes, ready to eat.” He shook his head in wonder. “A hundred years or so on in time and you live better than the queen. Certainly better than my father.” She seized the opportunity to think about something other than Quinn’s body. “Tell me about him.” She cradled her mug in both hands and took a sip. He raised his mug to his mouth and followed suit. “Wonderful,” he said. “Where does this coffee come from?” “Somewhere in South America, I think.” He shook his head. “Amazing.” He popped the pills into his mouth and took another mouthful of coffee. “About my father,” he continued. “Not much to tell. He has vast estates in Devonshire and I soon learned I was a big disappointment to him. Fortunately my brother Douglas fulfilled all his hopes of a dutiful son. He was the heir and I was the spare. I wasn’t needed. Douglas enjoys robust health, you know.” His lips twitched. “I got into a few scrapes, you know, over the years. Father eventually got fed up with me. And here I am.” She felt a twinge of pain at the sadness in his voice. With only the half-joking explanation he’d given she knew he’d been an unhappy little boy. He put down his empty mug and smiled at her again. “Good coffee.” “Thank you.” She glanced at her watch. “Maybe we could try sending you back. It should be quiet by now.” He sighed and stood up. “My life story,” he said. “Always being sent on, or back.” Elaine picked up his discarded jacket and folded it over her arm, smoothing the fabric. Her fingertips tingled as they brushed the cloth that had lain so close to his skin. “Don’t forget this,” she said, handing it to him. “Maybe Margaret can get it mended for you.”

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Quinn took it without a word, and they moved closer to the mirror. He squared his shoulders. “How does this work?” “I really don’t know. I just reached in and—” She stretched her hand toward the glass but Quinn grasped her fingers before they could make contact. “If I’m never to see you again,” he said, “I have to thank you properly for helping me. Goodbye, Ellie.” He dropped his jacket and pulled her closer. Before she could protest, his arms were around her, holding her tight against him. His mouth was on hers, hard and yet gentle. He tasted of warm coffee. Her arms rose instinctively to his neck and she felt the smooth fabric of his shirt under her fingers and the hard muscle beneath the cloth. Her wandering fingers rested on his jaw, aware of the rasp of the stubble on the tips. The blood pounded in her ears so loud she was sure he could hear it. His hands were warm and firm on her back and she quivered as they moved deliciously over her waist and hips. Through the mist of her swimming senses she leaned against him, feeling the long muscles of his thighs through her thin gown. She wanted the kiss never to end. At last he relaxed his grasp and raised his head. For once his expression was serious and his eyes betrayed depths of emotion that he’d been careful not to reveal before. “My God, Ellie,” he began. “I never thought—” She stepped back out of his arms and straightened her robe. “Forgive me,” she said, “I—” “Forgive you? That was a precious gift. Why should I forgive you?” “Well—” She cleared her throat. “Since it was a farewell—” She floundered again and decided to drop the topic of the kiss. Talking about it only brought home the enormity of her reaction to him. “Let me try the mirror,” she said. She strengthened her resolve and took one of his hands in one of hers, stretching the other toward the glass. The surface was cold and smooth and hard. She pushed more firmly. Her fingers grew white against the solidity of the glass. “Not working, eh?” he said. “It has to work.” She stood on a stool and leaned her shoulder against the unmoving surface. Nothing. She stared at it in frustration. “I can’t get through anymore.”

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Chapter Three Elaine dropped his hand, and he thrust it through his hair in a gesture that was becoming familiar. “Tell me about the other times.” “It always seemed to be evening. There’s a full moon. I think the family came from dinner…” “Then it seems to me I’m stuck here at least until tomorrow. This will be a damned interesting adventure.” Elaine stepped down from the stool. “This isn’t funny.” “No, no, of course not. I’m not saying it is.” A frown creased his brows. “I’m dashed sorry about this.” He thrust his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “I can understand you being annoyed.” He turned away and picked up his coat. “I’ll leave.” “No.” Although she blurted it out without thinking, she knew she was right to say it. She could still hear the echo of his words, “Always being sent on, or back”. He faced her again, wearing his jacket now, the torn sleeve dangling. He patted the stock at his neck and fingered the pin. “I mean, where will you go?” she said. “I’ll walk to an inn.” He jingled some coins in his pocket. “I’ve got a couple of sovereigns on me—” Sovereigns! She sighed, then took a breath and made a decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “It’s late, you have no transport and I have a day’s work ahead of me. Let’s sleep on it, and decide tomorrow what to do.” She avoided looking him in the eye. “You can stay here. There’s a bed in the tack room out in the big barn. It’s quite comfortable. I’ll get you some bedding.” Still uttering the last words, she sped upstairs to pick up linen and towels. In a few minutes, her arms full, she stood at the top of the stairs. There was no sound from below. From her vantage point she could see most of the room and he wasn’t there. Maybe he’d gone. Maybe he was just a figment of her overactive imagination after all. She took a few more steps down. No one. “Quinn?” “Out here,” he said from the kitchen. Surely that wasn’t a little bump of relief she felt as she hurried to the sound of his voice? She found him fingering the shiny appliances. She’d read time travel adventures where the one in the modern world, usually the heroine, had to explain every detail of

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modern life to the ignorant time traveler. Not in this story… She just needed to give herself some serious self-talk, forget the lingering memory of that kiss and her sexual fantasies, and tomorrow she’d find out how to send him back to his own time. He wouldn’t be around long enough to need to use a microwave. “Ready?” she asked and put down the pile of linen to slip on her shoes before opening the back door onto the night. The cool air stirred gently and ruffled the bushes along the fence. A barn cat scurried across the path on his nightly hunt, yellow eyes gleaming. Quinn followed close behind, then stopped to take a deep breath. “I smell horses.” “You’re absolutely right. I run a riding and boarding stable. This way.” She strode ahead of him toward the barn. Star heard her coming and whickered gently. One of the other horses stamped his feet. Metal fastenings jingled as the animals shifted in their stalls. She flicked on the light and headed for the small room where she and her grandfather had usually put up any temporary worker who didn’t have his own accommodation. It was sparsely furnished, but adequate. She opened the door and dumped the blanket and towels on the cot. “There’s an extra blanket in the—” She turned. He’d disappeared again. A low murmur came from the stalls. She took three swift steps toward the sound and stopped to watch. Quinn was in Star’s stall, talking to her, one hand on her neck, the other rubbing her flank. His ear was pressed to her swollen belly. Without moving his head, he looked up and smiled. “Another few weeks before she foals?” She nodded. He straightened and patted Star’s nose. “Nice horse.” The mare breathed out heavily and nuzzled his shoulder. Elaine felt a tiny, unreasonable stab of jealousy. “You know horses.” He nodded. “About the only thing I do know, apart from cards and women, of course.” He grinned at her wickedly, making her pulse race again. She found the extra blanket and left him to make up his bed after she pointed out the small washroom near the main door. As she was about to leave he took her hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I know you must find me a major inconvenience. But for me, all this is marvelous. As I said, I feel as if I’m in one of my Jules Verne novels, only better.” His hand was warm and strong. He had calluses on his fingers exactly where a rider would hold the reins, and she fought the urge to run her thumb along the ridges. “I hope you sleep well,” she said. She beat a hasty retreat and only remembered as she entered the kitchen that he had no night clothes. Now, on top of everything else, she had to struggle to avoid imagining him lying naked in a bed not a hundred yards away. She’d longed for someone to come

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and help her in the stables, but had never dreamed of this. Suppose the mirror never opened up again? It wasn’t possible that a man from the past could suddenly appear, be totally charming and set all kinds of bells buzzing inside her, and be everything she needed. She switched off the lights and checked the doors. “I bet he’s useless at real work,” she muttered as she put toothpaste onto her brush in the upstairs bathroom. Oh heck, she hadn’t given him a toothbrush. Too bad, she thought as she spat out the foam. One day without cleaning his teeth won’t kill him. There was no way she was going out there again. He might have taken off all his clothes by now and be wrapped only in a blanket. The thought made her stomach quiver. Determined to put Quinn out of her mind, she slid into bed and buried her head under the covers. The fuchsia-pink vibrator was still on her bedside table where she’d left it last night. Should she? No. She needed to avoid stimulation, not seek it out. Besides, what was a vibrator really, compared with a warm, hard-muscled man? She thought it would take a long while for her to fall asleep, but she sank quickly into oblivion. Her dreams were a tangled mix of people and fantasy. Jordan introduced her to Quinn and then jumped on the back of a big black stallion and rode off into a darkening sky. Quinn took her hand and said, “Mr. Verne has sent the submarine for me. I have to go.” She watched both men fade away and her heart filled with a deep sadness. The sun hit her full in the eyes and she woke feeling tired and irritable despite the hours of sleep. She’d forgotten to pull the blinds. Yawning, she peered at the alarm. Five-thirty! The birds had started their chorus for the day and a horse whinnied from the paddocks. Normal sounds. She sat up straight and flung herself from the bed in one movement. Why the hell were there horses out there? Had she forgotten to bolt the stable doors last night? Last night flashed through her mind as she peered out the window. She could only see part of the paddocks, but there was definitely a horse out there. She reached for her jeans. Had it all been a dream? Had she really pulled a man through the mirror and then blithely left him alone in the stables? She zipped the pants and thrust her arms into the sleeves of her shirt. Not to mention the memory of him kissing her in a way no one had kissed her since Jordan, sending a zinging tingle all through her, giving hints of wickedly exciting possibilities. She dragged a comb through her hair and thrust her feet into her shoes. In less than three minutes from that first waking moment, she clattered down the stairs, out the door and toward the horse enclosures. She covered the ground at a run and skidded to a halt at the railing. The brown gelding she used to lead the trail rides lifted his head placidly and looked at her as if

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wondering what all the fuss was about. He chewed rhythmically, a few wisps of hay hanging from his mouth, then tossed his head and snorted. Quinn appeared from the other side of the horse. He wore his grey trousers and his boots, but no shirt. He was no figment of her imagination. That kiss had been real. Strong muscles moved smoothly on his arms and shoulders. “You’re still here,” she said, foolishly. He lifted a hand to her. “I am indeed. I’ve just about finished.” “Finished? What are you doing with my horses?” “I brought them out as soon as it was light,” he said. “They’ve all been curried and fed. That’s a good system you have for water.” “System?” All they had was a pipe into a central sink. She was turning into a silly echo. He nodded and ran his hand over the haunches of the gelding. “Better than a well. That’s what we have on my father’s estate.” He picked up the horse’s back hoof, tucking the leg expertly under his arm. “Looks as if you need the blacksmith to take a look at this. He’s close to losing the shoe.” He dropped the hoof but stayed half hidden by the animal. She saw a flicker in his eyes as he took in her jeans. She’d also forgotten to give him a razor. Fine stubble, darker than his hair, outlined the contours of his jaw. After a moment, he dusted off his hands and stepped out from behind the horse to pick up his shirt from the railing. He half turned to slip his hands into the sleeves. On his back a crisscross of thin white lines marred the silk of his skin. At some time he’d received a severe beating. Despite the scars, or maybe because of them, she would have liked to touch his bare back, to feel the shape of muscle and sinew— She pulled her thoughts together. They were inappropriate at any time, let alone at six in the morning with a complete stranger. He bent his head to button the shirt and his hair fell forward on his forehead. His fingers were long and slim with faint white scars against the brown. They weren’t the hands of an idler. “I realize my being here might be compromising for you,” he went on, oblivious to her turmoil. She pushed back her hair and gave a small laugh. “Things have changed. You don’t need to worry about that in this day and age.” “Your husband might.” She didn’t want to lie to him. “I’m alone. My husband died some time ago.” “I’m sorry.” Was he sorry? His eyes dwelt on her for a long moment, skimming her from head to toe. She was suddenly aware she wasn’t wearing a bra. What was he thinking? Had she just issued an open invitation? She pulled herself together. “You must be hungry.”

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“As a hunter.” She turned to back to the house and called over her shoulder. “You probably want to wash up first. Breakfast in fifteen minutes.” Quinn watched her walk back to the house, then went into the barn. He opened the tap in the tack room and peered into the small mirror over the washbasin. He’d managed to control the outward expression of astonishment at the marvels in Ellie’s house, but the sight of her in those tight trousers had taken his breath away. When she’d appeared with the blue material clinging to her legs in a decidedly provocative fashion a sudden stab of desire had shot through him and every muscle he had sprung to life. He’d had to move around behind the horse and examine the hoof to hide the bulge in his breeches. Then when she’d turned toward the house—! He caught water in his hands and sluiced his hot face. Surely women didn’t wear such things as a general rule? He was going to need all his wits about him if they did. There was a music hall star in London who’d worn men’s trousers on a fine pair of legs and enjoyed great popularity, but all the well-bred ladies he knew wore long skirts, even if they rode. Ellie seemed serious and well brought up. She’d most likely gone back in the house to change into a gown, even a simple one like she’d worn last night, but enough to veil her legs. He stripped off his shirt again and plunged his head and shoulders under the flow of water. He had no idea how the hell he’d arrived here, but he had all his faculties and no harm done except a slight muzziness in his head, which more coffee would clear. Clear it enough for him to focus on the mining deal rather than all the incredible machines in Ellie’s house. The mining men would be waiting for him at the Imperial Hotel next Monday and he meant to be there. Once and for all he’d prove his father wrong and show he could make a success of his new life. His skin tingled from the cold water and he rubbed hard with a towel until it glowed. He hung up the towel and slipped on his shirt. So he’d had the good luck to land in a stable. Truth to tell, he’d been in a bit of a funk last night, so he’d done what he always did, put on a good show, but deep down he’d not been so sure of himself. He’d slept like a log and woken to do what he did best, see to the horses. If the mirror worked today he’d find himself back in 1880 in short order. If things had been different, he wouldn’t have minded staying around for a while to get to know Ellie better. Elaine heard Quinn coming up the steps to the kitchen door and broke two eggs into the pan. She’d not cooked breakfast for anyone since Gramps had died and she was enjoying it. Jordan had loved his weekend bacon and eggs and she supposed the combination was pretty timeless. “Good Lord, but that smells good,” Quinn said as he closed the door behind him. She felt a little spurt of pleasure at having guessed right. She slid the bacon onto a warm

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plate. “There’s coffee in the pot.” She nodded toward the percolator. He filled a generous-sized mug and sat at the kitchen table as she placed the steaming plate in front of him. She caught him taking a quick look at her jeans and then averting his eyes. Well, they probably were pretty unusual for him. “We can talk while you eat.” She refilled her own mug and slid into the chair opposite him. His hair was damp and he’d finger combed it back from his face. She hadn’t even supplied a comb. But he was going back today. This evening. “I’m thinking a bit straighter this morning,” she began. Not really true. She still wanted to reach out and slip her hand down where the linen shirt gaped at his throat, wanted to feel the skin under her fingers— “Good.” He took a large forkful of bacon and mopped some egg yolk with bread. She watched the muscles move under his jaw and she longed to place a butterfly kiss on that tempting mouth. She had to get him out of here before she lost all control. “What year was it when you left?” she asked again. “1880.” “A hundred and twenty-five years.” “Amazing. I shall write everything down as soon as I get back.” He ate the rest of his bread. “You said the mirror seemed to let you through in the evenings—” “Yes.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I know this is an inconvenience for you, having a strange man about—” She gave a thin laugh. “On the contrary, a man around the place is exactly what I need. I need someone working in the stables for a few months.” “I can help you today. I’d like to be around horses again.” “Thank you.” What would it hurt to give him a few more hours? He’d be gone by tonight and she’d work where she wouldn’t have to see him. “Are you ready to try the mirror again this evening?” He swallowed the last of his coffee. “Yes. I must.” At least he was no longer talking about staying for four days. She took the plates and placed them in the sink. As if with one mind they moved in silence to the living room and he picked up his blue coat. “I have to get this mended before next week.” “Yes, you said you had a business appointment. I hope it goes well,” she added. “Thank you.” He looked at her and they both stood frozen for a long moment. If he kissed her again, she didn’t know what she’d do. They gazed at the mirror that reflected only their own faces and Elaine’s living room.

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After a moment she broke the spell and moved back toward the kitchen, her heartbeat thumping in a spot just below her throat. She felt like the heroine in Sliding Doors. Gwyneth Paltrow chose one path and events unfurled in a certain way. A different decision led to different outcomes. Elaine had no idea if she was sending Quinn back never to see him again, or if the mirror was going to act like a portal, allowing either of them to come and go as they pleased. He leaned against the counter. “Do you think I could ever come through again?” he asked, echoing her thoughts. “I have no idea. Would you want to?” “Have an insight into the future? And see you again? Of course.” She plunked fresh coffee next to him and folded her arms. The thought that he was going to be around for the rest of the day had set the buzzing in her stomach going again. She felt her breasts swell under the thin cotton of blouse, the nipples enlarging and rubbing against the thin fabric. She still hadn’t put on her bra. “We’ll try the mirror again tonight.” He put down the electric mixer he’d been examining, but ignored the steaming coffee. He looked up at her with a smile that made her heart turn over. “If you wish. That means we have one whole day.” Before she could stop him he thrust away from the counter, flung his arms around her and swept her off her feet. He swung around and let out a shout of laughter. Her breasts were pressed hard against his chest and her hands clutched at the hard biceps that rippled when he lifted her. She opened her mouth to protest, but the feel of him was exactly what she’d fantasized. She stayed silent and let herself savor the moment. Caught by his sincere pleasure, she laughed too. Suddenly it was the most beautiful morning in a long time. He set her feet on the ground, his arms still holding her tight against him. “I couldn’t ask for anything better than a few more hours with you, in this place,” he whispered. For one breathless moment time stood still, then something in the atmosphere changed. As if some mischievous god had flipped a switch, they began touching each other, stroking, kissing, risking exploration. All else faded in the storm that swept through Elaine as the feelings from last night’s kiss flooded back. She no longer cared that Quinn was a stranger, that he came from another time and place. Her body craved the fulfillment that only he could give. She rubbed against him, feeling the warmth of his breath at her ear as his hands explored every inch of her back then pressed her head to his shoulder. His beard rasped against her cheek as he sought her mouth again with hungry lips and she gave herself up to him, stroking his arms, luxuriating in the feel of firm muscle under skin. Slipping her fingers under his shirt, she explored the warm hollows and ridges of his back, tracing the lines of the welts she had seen earlier.

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With an impatient movement he pulled her blouse from the waistband of her jeans and tugged until the buttons popped off, exposing her naked breasts. He shoved the fabric from her shoulders, pinning her arms. His eyes were hot with desire and a flush stained his cheekbones. He gave a muffled groan before he plunged his face between her breasts and showered tiny kisses on her nakedness. He drew her nipple into his mouth. Fire shot through her and she arched her back, held prisoner by the steel of his arms, by her own shirt wrapped around her wrists and by the firm grasp of his teeth and lips. Quinn lifted his head and took her chin in one hand. Reaching down with his other hand, he cupped her bottom and squeezed her through the denim. There was nothing she could do to resist him. She no longer wanted to resist him. She relaxed, allowing her body to depend on his. They kissed again, even more deeply, and her hands fumbled blindly at the fastening of his trousers. She felt the heat and hardness of his erection through the fabric and stroked him before she found the way to set him free. When the buttons were undone he released her mouth and shoved his trousers down, kicking at the folds encumbering his ankles. She smiled as he fought to extricate himself, freed her own arms from the sleeves of her shirt, took a pace back and undid the stud and zipper of her jeans. He kept his eyes on her as she slid the denim down her legs and stepped out of the pants, revealing the lace of her panties. He moistened his lips as his ardent gaze took in every inch of her, then reached out a hand to touch her, brushing the mound between her legs with the tips of his fingers. She moaned. “Damnation,” he muttered. “What?” “No French letters.” For once she was glad her doctor had advised her to continue with her birth control pills to regulate her erratic cycle. Her lips curved in a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” “I won’t.” His eyes still on her, he took off his shirt and stood buck-naked in her kitchen, like some computer-generated fantasy. His body was hard and taut, rippling cords marking his belly and a fine, thick cock sprouting from a nest of darker hair at the juncture of his thighs. The well-developed muscles of his legs betrayed his years of riding, of holding and guiding a moving animal. She felt dizzy at the thought of being held between those steely thighs. “Your turn,” he said quietly. “Take them off for me.” She hooked her thumbs on the sides of her panties, pulled them down and heard his breath in a great exhalation as she revealed the curls nestling at the base of her belly. “Beautiful,” he whispered as she stepped to one side, leaving the scrap of lace on the floor. He seized her again and sank with her to his knees. They stayed for a long moment, her naked breasts pressed to his bare chest, his engorged cock trapped between them.

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Then in a lithe movement he sat, propped his back against the cabinets, spread her legs and lifted her onto his lap to face him. She straddled him, her feet flat on the kitchen tiles alongside his thighs. He held her leg with one hand and she remained motionless, open to his devouring gaze, as he traced a line of fire down her bare breasts, to her abdomen, down to her wet pussy. He paused for a moment, his hand resting lightly on the curls between her thighs. She held her breath as moisture creamed from her, knowing what would happen when he touched her, longing for it, yet dreading it at the same time. Her arms rested lightly on his shoulders. She could see all of him and the spot between her legs that was oh-so ready for him. She felt his cock under her, felt it quiver as she moved, felt it rest, warm and velvety, against her opening. Oh God, would he never slide it into her? Her breath came in short pants and moans. At last, when she could almost bear the wait no longer, he let go of her leg, grasped one cheek of her ass and pushed his fingers into her crack, where he began a rhythmic, squeezing massage. She writhed on his legs, unable to move more than an inch or so, held fast by the infiltrating fingers. His free hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple until it pebbled, hard and aching. His lips curved in a slow, languorous smile of pleasure and domination as he watched her squirm. “Is that good?” he asked. “Is that what you want?” “I want—” “Me to take my hand away?” He edged his fingers a half inch out of the crack of her ass cheeks. “No,” she groaned and clenched her buttocks together to keep his fingers in place. “What then?” “Touch me—” “Where? Here?” He curved his hand ‘round her breast and sucked on her jutting nipple. She gave a small cry as the electric heat snaked from her breast to the spot between her legs. “Yes. No—” “Or this?” He let go of her breast and moved his hand between her legs. She lifted slightly in an attempt to give him more access to her throbbing, dripping core. “Yes. More. Please,” she gasped. “That’s what I like to hear.” He shifted her weight to allow his cock to slither between her thighs. The wonderful, huge hardness of his penis rested on the back of his hand, the tip oozing pearly liquid on her belly. His fingers, hidden from sight by his cock, wriggled their way deeper into her until some were inside her. How many? Two? Three? Four? “That’s three fingers,” he murmured, as if reading her mind. “But I think I’m bigger than that, wouldn’t you say?” 37

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She glanced down. His cock bobbed enticingly as he moved and she encircled it with curved fingers, lifting it away from them. “I would say so.” Her voice caught in her throat as he massaged her exposed clit with his thumb. “I want to stretch you, feel every tiny part of you inside,” he whispered against her cheek. She closed her eyes and sucked in her breath as the pressure built inside her. The muscles at the entrance to her opening clenched, grasping his fingers more tightly. “Already?” he said. “I had more plans for you.” He pulled his fingers from her cunt and ass and seized her hips, lifting her a few inches, his hands holding her like steel bands. He positioned her wide-open pussy over his seeking cock, then rammed it hard into her just as the waves came over her, rushing from between her legs into her abdomen. Her vagina clutched his penis in a paroxysm of delight and he threw back his head and shouted as his own orgasm took hold of him. Elaine lay against his chest, waiting for her heart to stop its thundering against her ribs. She moved her lips to his neck and found his pulse beating hard and steady. His skin was warm under her cheek and she bent her head to touch his hard nipple with the tip of her tongue. Quinn made an appreciative noise in his throat and pushed her hair back with one hand. He tilted her chin toward him. His mouth brushed hers. “Did I say I was happy to stay?” he whispered. “I think you did.” She moved, suddenly conscious of a cool draft down her back and the cold tiles under her knees. She giggled. “I haven’t done anything like this for years—” “Did you like it?” She refused to play coy. “I loved it.” “Do you want more?” She took a deep breath. “Yes.” “Then more you shall have, my sweet.” His hands traced the curve of her ass, propped on his knees. “Much more. As much as you want.” Her mouth went dry and she felt the warm blush flood her cheeks. “We have time enough before the mirror opens up again.” His voice was low, husky with desire. Before the mirror opens up again. Before she lost him, probably for good. She pushed herself away from him. “Come with me.” She took his hand. They left their few remnants of clothing strewn on the kitchen floor as she led him to the stairs. “Where?”

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“My bedroom of course. The kitchen floor is cold.” She reached the landing and turned to face him. His arms slid around her waist and she felt his cock stir against her belly. She kissed him. “This way.” Turning, she pushed open her bedroom door to reveal the bed, tousled by her dreams. “I’ve never done it in a bed.” She stopped in surprise and felt him against her back. His arms went around her. One of his hands cupped her breast while the other crept down between her legs. She stiffened and trembled as he touched her. “What?” She laughed in surprise. He spoke against her neck, nibbling and licking her ear. “Well brought up young ladies were never alone with me. In any case, I preferred serving girls and dairymaids. Very beautiful and generous they were, and much more honest. But straw mats and shady nooks were all we had for our meetings.” He lifted her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. “Nonetheless, they taught me well.” “So now you have a bed.” “It will feel strange to me.” She shivered in anticipation and turned to face him, her hands on his forearms. Gently but firmly she steered him around until his legs pressed against the bed. “Let’s take it gradually,” she said and pressed her hands on his shoulders until he sat on the edge of the unmade bed. “Show me what you know,” she said. This had to be the ultimate fantasy, she thought as he gave her a devilish grin. Her very own captive fantasy hero, in her bedroom, offering to pleasure her as much as she wanted. Quinn placed her hands on his shoulders and nudged her legs apart with his knees. “What do I know?” he repeated. “I know that women like to be stroked—” He let his fingers flutter down her side, barely brushing her breast, skimming her hip. “Sometimes they like a little pain—” He tugged at her nipple, just enough to make her give a sharp cry. “Sometimes they like to be tied up—” Warm liquid oozed from between her legs, bathing her already-moist thighs. She flung back her head and tried to move, but Quinn was too fast for her and held her hips in hard hands. “Maybe we’ll do that next. Right now—” He fell back onto the bed, pulling her with him so she lay on his chest and thighs. “Hmm,” he said, wriggling down a little. “This is nice. I could like this. Spoil me for my haystacks and gamekeepers’ huts, it will.” She felt a stab of jealousy at the casual reference to future dalliance with other women. “Maybe I won’t let you go,” she said. “Maybe I’m the only one who can guide anything through the mirror. I could keep you here to work for me and to—” “Pleasure you at your command?” 39

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As he spoke, a thrust of his hips rolled her onto her back and he pinned her wrists over her head. He knelt beside her, still holding her arms in a steel grip. “Maybe it could be the reverse. I could run your stable and keep you tied to the bed as my love slave. Would you like that?” Oh God, what could she say? She struggled against him, but he would not relax his hold on her. “It works both ways, doesn’t it?” he said. “Neither of us owns the other, but we will do as the other says to heighten our own pleasure. Agreed?” “Agreed.” Her voice was faint. If only he would thrust that cock inside her again, relieve the ache in her lower abdomen, let her ride him to oblivion, she would do whatever he asked. He shifted his position, then stilled. She turned her head to see where he was looking. His gaze was fixed on the curved pink plastic dildo on her bedside table. There was no mistaking its purpose and use. He let go of her arms and placed one hand on her abdomen to keep her in place. He picked up the vibrator, running his fingers along its length, lingering on the rough simulation of folds. “My, my, where did this come from?” “My friend, Maggie. She gives me toys—” “A good friend indeed.” His thumb found the switch and it began to vibrate gently. “Intriguing. Another wonder.” He switched it to full power and then back to the lowest setting. He turned back to her. “Do you use this?” She nodded. “Once,” she croaked. “Only once.” What on Earth did it matter how many times she’d done it? His fingers on her bare flesh were burning holes into her. She moved her hips, inviting him to touch. “A fine toy,” he whispered. “Show me how it works.” She shook her head, meaning to protest that she wanted him, not a mechanical substitute. “Oh yes, I want to see you use it. By the time you’ve finished I’ll be ready to fuck you again.” His cock was already swelling, rising up from a nest of dark hair against his naked belly. “Or maybe I have a better idea. I’ll put it in you and control it. Then I can use my fingers all over you and you can—” “Suck you.” She had no idea where the words came from, she only knew that as soon as she said them she could hardly wait to take him in her mouth while he slid the vibrator into her and out again in a delicious rhythm. He smiled widely. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Now, open those lovely legs nice and wide.”

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His hands caressed her from her hips to her calves. Although he was no longer holding her, she still held her arms above her head and spread her thighs, watching him as he positioned the dildo close to her opening. It gave off a faint hum as it vibrated. The expression on his face was half serious, half devilish as his glance flicked from her wide-open cunt to her face, watching her as he gently inserted the tip of the vibrator. She couldn’t hold back a gasp as it slid inside her. He held the dildo with one hand and with the other began to stroke her breasts, nipping and plucking at her nipples. She slid down in the bed, raising her knees so the tip of the vibrator reached deeper into her sensitized core. Her face was on a level with his penis, and he rose up on his knees and bent over her, bringing the shining end of his cock to her lips. She took him in her mouth. Elaine lost all sense of time as she sank into a storm of sensations. Quinn wielded the dildo inside her, now fast, now slow, now lingering deep within, now teasing her with withdrawal and gently rubbing the lips of her opening. At the same time his other hand and his mouth were all over her, plucking, stroking, nipping and sucking. Her whole body was on fire as waves of exquisite pleasure snaked along her nerve ends, all culminating in that core of fire deep inside her. The dildo stroked her passage, shivering against quivering flesh, nudging the far reaches of her vagina, creating waves of pleasure so intense she thought she might faint. Totally mindless, all her thoughts banished and all her feelings concentrated on what he was doing to her, she uttered inarticulate sounds as he drove her wild and his cock swelled and stretched in her mouth. Drawing back her head as far as she could, she held him between her teeth, tracing the outline of the weeping slit with her tongue. The salty tang of his semen made her want more of him. She opened her jaws wide, as wide as she opened her legs and he thrust inside her, claiming her with the dildo he controlled and with his own flesh. She felt the tip of his penis bump against the back of her throat and the trickle of his cum on her tongue. Pinned to the bed by his cock in her mouth and her own dildo between her legs, she gave herself over entirely to the demands of her body. The dull ache between her legs became a sweet pain and she bucked and twisted under his hands. At that moment Quinn’s thumb found her clit and exercised a gentle pressure on the tiny nub. Impossible as it seemed, more shards of fire flashed through her, centering on the spot where his fingers massaged and teased. She drew in a deep breath and he eased his cock from her mouth, allowing her to moan aloud. He positioned himself to watch her as he spread her pussy lips with his free hand, baring her clit. He pushed the dildo deep inside her once again and at the same time squeezed the nub of her clit, bringing her to a shattering climax as she screamed and broke into a thousand pieces. Through half-closed eyes she saw Quinn lay aside the vibrator. Her body throbbed and tingled and she felt weak, boneless. He let her lie still for a few moments as she recovered her breath, all the time stroking her, showering kisses on her face and breasts.

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As her breathing slowed, he lowered himself to nuzzle her belly button, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. To her surprise, the ache started again between her legs. She would break in two if he made her come again. “No more.” Did she mean it, or was she wanting him to overrule her yet again? “Of course, more,” he growled. “It’s my turn, or hadn’t you noticed?” He guided her hand to his cock. “This will be beautiful,” he said. “Slow and lovely, my sweet. We’ll save some of the other games for later. Put me inside you.” He positioned himself between her spread knees. She opened her pussy lips with one hand and guided him into her. He gave a great sigh as his engorged penis slid deep into her. He was true to his word. He fucked her gently, easing his cock into her, starting a slow, intoxicating rhythm that forced her to move her hips in the same cadence. She felt his every tiny movement inside her, touching and massaging the secret places that led to her core. He fastened his lips on hers and pushed his tongue into her mouth, stroking the sensitive skin inside, crushing her under him. She gave herself up entirely to what he wanted. The throb grew between her legs, spreading into her belly, demanding release. She felt him convulse and stiffen and then the hot spurt of his seed deep against her womb as her thighs tightened around him and she lost herself in her third incredible orgasm. Elaine lay with closed eyes and swallowed hard, waiting for her racing pulse to resume its normal rhythm. She felt the pounding of Quinn’s heart on her chest. Their two heartbeats synchronized and meshed as if they were one body. Gradually their breathing slowed. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the lines of the thin white scars. “Who did this to you?” she whispered against his ear. He moved his head slightly and his hair brushed her sensitive nipple, making her quiver. He was silent for a long moment and she feared he was angry at her prying question. She’d felt so close to him it had seemed natural to ask, but— He drew in a deep breath. “My father.”

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Chapter Four Oh my God. What kind of father was it who beat his son to mark him for life and then shipped him off halfway around the world? Quinn raised himself on one hand and looked down at her. “It was usually a horsewhip,” he said. “Sometimes a cane.” Elaine winced at the thought of the switch cutting into young flesh. “But why?” “All kinds of reasons. For what I did, for what I didn’t do… Sins of omission and commission, you could say.” She smoothed the lock of hair from his forehead and stroked his cheek. He turned his face to kiss her fingers. “Eventually I decided that since he would beat me anyway, it didn’t matter much what I did.” “He sent you away—” Quinn nodded. “Margaret is ten years older and always used to look after me when she could. When she arrived in Canada, Father decided he could get rid of me and all my problems in one fell swoop. Not exactly cutting me off completely, but keeping me a long way from home. Father is a good politician. So here I am—or rather here I was.” He gave a short bark of a laugh. Elaine’s fingers dropped to his shoulder and she felt the smooth curve of his muscles. “Here you are indeed,” she murmured. He bent lower and touched her mouth with his lips. “Where were we?” he whispered. Her insides melted again and she felt the answering spark between her thighs. Surely he couldn’t bring her to orgasm yet again? It seemed as if he might have a darn good try. She smiled at the growing pressure of his mouth while his hand sought her breast. Suddenly she heard girls’ voices from outside, and the sound of feet on the wooden steps of the porch. In a reflex she ducked under Quinn’s arm and shot out of bed. “Hallo-o, Mrs. Christie,” someone called. “Are you there?” She poked her head ‘round the bedroom door. “I’m upstairs, Shelly. What are you doing here?” “We’ve finished our exams. No school. So Marnie and I thought we could help. Shall we start in the stable?” The girls came to help most Saturdays and any other time they were free. “Yes, yes, please do. I’ll be down in a moment.”

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“No rush. We’re cool.” The murmur of voices faded with the sound of their footsteps. She turned back to Quinn. He lay on his back on the bed, one arm behind his head, his eyes on her, open invitation in his gaze. She refused to think of joining him. She found underwear in her drawer, opened the closet and grabbed for a shirt and a pair of overalls. Her clothes lay scattered on the kitchen floor with Quinn’s. Had the girls noticed? “Cool?” Quinn asked. “It’s what teenagers say. It means no problem.” “Teenagers? Who are they?” “It’s what we call young people between thirteen and about sixteen or seventeen. Then they become young adults.” She fastened her bra and tugged the T-shirt over her head, flipping her hair out of the neckband. “Shelly and Marnie are in grade nine at the high school. They help me during the holidays. They’re in the horse craze stage.” Quinn raised one eyebrow. She stepped into the overalls. “Not many people ride nowadays,” she added as she clipped the fasteners of the bib. “Lots of young girls like to take lessons, if their parents can afford it.” Quinn shook his head. “I can tell I have a lot to learn.” She thrust her feet into a pair of sneakers. “I’ll find you some clothes and you can meet them.” A half-hour later the two teenaged girls gasped in astonishment when they set eyes on Quinn in his borrowed jeans and black shirt. She wasn’t surprised. The way the denim clung to his muscled thighs and his biceps rippled as he took hold of a large pitchfork made her mouth go dry. “This is Quinn, a friend of mine,” she said by way of introduction. “He’s visiting.” “Good morning.” Quinn gave the girls a devastating smile, obviously making their knees go weak. They murmured a polite greeting, but Elaine saw Marnie make a silent “wow” with her lips when Quinn half turned away. The girls had propped their bicycles against the wall of the stable. “See you, Mrs. Christie,” Shelly called and paused to fish carrots and apples from her saddlebag. Elaine waved back at them and watched the morning ritual. Each horse had to chomp on a treat and have its nose well and truly rubbed before there was any hope of work. Between the road and the main barn were six small paddocks, each with a threesided shelter for the animals. Elaine was tempted to follow Quinn everywhere he went, but there was a lot to do elsewhere on the property. With a last look at him to carry in her mind, she left him.

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Just before noon a large black pickup truck rolled up to the driveway as she was finishing up in Star’s enclosure. A middle-aged man in jeans and a checked shirt slid out from the driver’s side. “How can I help you?” She looped an arm ‘round Star’s neck. The horse laid her muzzle on Elaine’s shoulder. “Nice animal,” the man said. He held out a card. “Jim Batt. I’m with Denman and Sons. The developers,” he added, as she looked blank. “Mr. Denman is coming into the area next week and we’d like to set up a meeting.” For the moment she hadn’t recalled the name, but she’d seen some of the drawings of what Denman planned to do. He figured he could put twenty-four houses on her property. This area was just being discovered by those who could no longer find secluded or waterfront houses around Shawnigan Lake. “There’s no point. I’m not selling.” “Well, perhaps you should wait until you hear his offer—” “It won’t make any difference.” The man’s pleasant smile faded. “You’d do well to think it over very carefully, Ms. Christie. Mr. Denman is aware of your—difficulties. If you leave it too long, he might be able to acquire it at a fire sale price.” Star tossed her head and snorted through her nose. You and me both, Elaine thought. Aloud, she said “I don’t think Mr. Denman has all the facts, Mr.—” she glanced at the card, “—Batt. Please tell him that you’ve wasted your time. And now, excuse me, I have horses who need me.” She saw Jim Batt’s eyes flicker to a point just behind her. “I didn’t know you had help.” She heard a footstep on the gravel path and knew Quinn was there. “No, you didn’t,” she said without turning. “So you and your ally the bank manager can stop telling my customers that I’m inadequately staffed.” Batt opened his mouth to say something, then obviously decided against it. “Hold on to my card. You might change your mind.” With a nod to them both he turned and got into his truck. Elaine turned to Quinn. She’d drawn comfort and strength from his presence behind her. “Thank you for coming out,” she began. Quinn was staring after the black pickup, oblivious to anything she said. “What is that?” She followed his gaze. “It’s a motor vehicle. We call that a pickup because, well, because you can pick things up and put them in the back.” “My Lord,” he said, shaking his head. “Are there many of them?” “Thousands. Plus cars, and vans and buses—” She patted Star’s neck. “It’s lunchtime, and the girls will be going home now. I’ll have a word with them, then we’ll go inside and I’ll show you some things.” 45

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The girls would obviously have liked to have stayed around Quinn for a lot longer, but Elaine sent them home with a promise that they could come back on Saturday. “Will you be here, Quinn?” Shelly asked. “I don’t think so. I have to leave tonight, in fact.” “Goodbye, then,” she sighed. “It was nice meeting you.” On the way out of the barn Marnie took a step toward Elaine. “What a hunk,” she whispered. “Will he come back again?” “I don’t know. Maybe.” She watched them mount their bicycles and start off down the drive. Would he come back? No one knew. She felt Quinn behind her. “You made quite a conquest,” she said. “They’re cool chicks.” Elaine burst into laughter. “What else did they teach you?” Quinn took her hand as they walked toward the house. “Oh, I don’t know—a few words. Like these horses are awesome.” “They would be even better if there were a few more of them.” “Whatever.” She slipped off her shoes, laughed again and gave him a quick kiss. “You’re a fast learner. Let me boot up my computer and you can find out some more while I get lunch.” He grabbed for her to prolong the embrace but she slipped away, fired up her desktop and gave him a few instructions. “Is this where I can google myself?” he asked, slipping arm around her waist again. “What have those girls been teaching you? Where do they think you’re from?” “I said I was a traveler. Been out of touch for a while.” “You can say that again.” She let herself appreciate the warmth of him against her side, then tore herself away to make a sandwich while he explored some web sites. He caught on quickly on how to use the mouse and his declarations of surprise and delight at each of his discoveries reached clearly into the kitchen. “Good Heavens above!” The exclamation was followed by a long period of silence. She moved to the doorway to see what he had found that was holding his interest. Quinn looked up from the screen as she approached his chair. “What did you find?” she asked, expecting to see the description of a sleek car, or a holiday resort. To her surprise she saw the words “Cariboo Gold Company” in bold letters. He looked at her with an expression of dismay. “Does this say they failed?” he said. She leaned forward to scan the article on the screen. “Yes, it looks like it.” “I’ll lose everything.”

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She touched his shoulder in sympathy. “And so will Margaret.” She hadn’t realized Margaret was a potential investor. “Oh, no!” “It’s not too late. I can warn her.” “Yes,” she said in a low voice, ignoring the stab of pain that speared her heart. “You must warn her.” They sat at the kitchen table to eat their sandwiches without speaking. At last Quinn swallowed a mouthful and broke the silence. “There was a full moon last night,” he said. Elaine nodded. She knew he was figuring out the chances of going back through the mirror to his own time. “It stays full for three days,” he continued. “Maybe that had something to do with the passage opening for me.” “It is the solstice.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “True.” Elaine reflected for a moment. “I think I might know one of the reasons why you could come through the mirror,” she said in a low voice. He looked at her expectantly. “I really wanted to touch you.” She thought of her use of the vibrator alone in her bed. “When I watched you in Margaret’s house, I wanted you.” She lifted her glass to take a sip of water and found her hand was trembling. He stretched out his arm to stroke the backs of her fingers. “Full moon, mid-year solstice, desire. A potent combination.” “Maybe you have to want very much for the passage to open.” She looked down and felt the warm blood rise in her face. “Last night I didn’t really want you to go. So the mirror closed up.” “So you may be the one with the power,” he said. “Will you let me go tonight? To help my sister?” She fought for breath against the lump in her throat. “Of course I will.” His eyes met hers. She nodded, unable to speak. “But before I go,” he smiled that wicked smile, “do you have any more chores to do?” “Nothing that can’t wait.” Shoving back her chair, she moved toward him, took his face between her palms and drew his lips toward hers. She kissed him full on the mouth, her tongue seeking his. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around her, crushing her tightly against him. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, pulling him even closer as if there could never be any space between them.

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At last she paused to breathe and removed her mouth from his. Her heart ached at the thought of letting him go. Who could know if he would be able to come back, or if he would want to come back once he returned to his family? Why would he? She drew in a shuddering breath. Quinn touched her lips with his fingertips, making her quiver. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. She gave a wry smile. “In my work clothes?” “Yes, astoundingly beautiful, but even more so without them.” He smiled and fingered the clasps on the bib of her overalls. He released the catch and the front fell forward. Her breasts ached for his touch under the thin cotton of her shirt. His hands were warm on her ribs as he slipped them around her waist, then down over her hips, pulling the trousers down past her behind, over her thighs. The overalls puddled on the floor and she stood in her shirt and panties, waiting for him. “Make love to me,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. He raised an eyebrow. “Bed?” “Yes, please.” He stood quickly and swept her into his arms. She kicked away her trailing overalls and put her arm around his neck, burying her face in the lovely hollow above his shoulder, breathing in the fragrance of saddle soap and hay, warm horse and virile man. The mingled scents were intoxicating, exciting, making her head swim and her body tremble. He climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to her bedroom. The sheets were still in a tangle from the frenzy of their last coupling and she caught the heady aroma of sex lingering in the air and on the coverings. It was wonderful, bewitching, and made her long to experience it again. Quinn set her down on the bed and quickly shucked his jeans and shirt. She watched through half-closed eyes as his strong torso was revealed, his slim hips, his powerful thighs. Each inch of bared flesh made her heart beat faster until she could feel it pounding in her throat. Creamy moisture ran from between her legs and the ache low in her belly made her bite her lip in impatience. Quinn said nothing but kept his eyes on her as he stripped. He stood for a moment when he was naked to allow her eyes to feast on him. His cock stood tall and thick, surging from the nest of dark hair at the base of his belly. It grew and swelled under her greedy gaze, a pearly drop already shimmering on its tip. He slid onto the bed beside her and reached for her, his strong arms surrounding her like a protective shield. He kissed her once, slowly, as if savoring the taste and feel of her, then again and again, tender kisses like the soft brush of velour against her skin. Then he pressed deeper, his touch sure and deliberate as he began to caress her and ease her skimpy clothing from her unresisting body. She felt the warmth of his fingers on every curve and hollow, in every secret place. She shivered as the cool dampness of his tongue laved her nipples, sucked them into his mouth and left them aching for more as he buried his head between her thighs. 48

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She lay in a state just below consciousness, but where every movement, every touch caused exquisite sensations of delight bordering on pain. She cried out when he entered her, urgency replacing the heady pleasure that had made her limbs heavy with desire. He rocked inside her and her body began to build to climax. She tried to prolong the moment as long as possible, until it was no longer something she could control, and she cried out again, her nails digging into the muscles of his back, her hands clinging to him as if he were the only thing between her and a treacherous ocean. Seconds later they collapsed against each other, their bodies bathed in a thin film of sweat. “Are you all right?” he asked at last. “Are you kidding?” She laughed, a deep throaty chuckle. She hadn’t laughed like that for years. “I mean, are you joking?” she translated. “I am perfect.” She stretched out like a contented cat. Quinn laughed with her, kissed her forehead and gathered her into his arms. “That was wonderful,” she sighed. “You’re a great lover.” “Now who’s kidding? You inspire me.” He kissed her again, drawing her back against the pillows, their bodies folding comfortably together, their breathing steady and rhythmic. He pulled a cover over them both and she snuggled against him. She closed her eyes, very conscious of the man lying beside her where only twentyfour hours before there had been cold, empty space. Tonight there would be emptiness again if he succeeded in passing through the mirror. Suppose it didn’t work? Did she want him to stay against his will? He would fret about his sister, might grow to resent his imprisonment in another time. She had to let him go, if indeed she held the power to keep him or release him. She touched his arm, ran her fingers over the smooth muscles and over his bare chest, tracing the fine line of dark hair around his nipples and down to his belly. He stirred and groaned. “God, woman, if you do things like that, be prepared for the consequences.” “Like what?” She touched his cock with a featherlike brush of her fingers. It stirred to life again. “Every time you touch me—” He turned his head to kiss her. Her lips parted and he ran the tip of his tongue on the sensitive flesh just inside her mouth. She murmured in appreciation of the tingle that shot from her bruised mouth down to the spot between her legs that throbbed anew. He raised his head and caught sight of the vibrator, still perched on the bedside table. “You know, a friend of mine is a doctor,” he said. “Bright fellow, much more studious than I.”

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She felt a pang of dislike for the family who had taught him so well that he was of little worth. Before she could protest, he continued. “They have a thing like your dildo. Some fellow in the United States is taking out a patent.” “A patent?” “It’s a medical device. Used to treat female hysteria.” “I don’t believe you.” “It’s true, I swear it. The medicos used to do it manually, but with the new thing it’s much more efficient.” “Do what manually?” “Clitoral massage, they call it. My friend is always up on the latest techniques. Says it’s very effective. The women come regularly and it really seems to help with anxiety and all kinds of hysterical manifestations.” Laughter bubbled up inside her and she shook in his arms. “Are you seriously telling me that doctors induce orgasms in their patients and pretend it cures hysteria?” “Hey, steady on. Who said anything about orgasm?” She gasped and wiped her streaming eyes on the sheet. “It’s not really funny.” She gulped for breath. “Those poor women. Don’t their husbands do it on a regular basis?” “Couldn’t tell you. I daresay they would think it not nice. Unseemly, you know.” “I daresay your country girls never needed such treatment.” “No, now you come to mention it, they never did. Funny that. I should mention it to my friend. He’d be interested.” “I’m sure he would.” “Talking of inducing orgasms,” he said against her ear. “You said your friend gave you that marvelous thing we used last night. Did she give you anything else?” “Heaps of stuff.” “What do you like best?” “I couldn’t tell you.” She put her lips against his neck, feeling the thread of his pulse. “I never used them.” He ran his hands up her ribs and stroked her breasts. “Where are they?” Oh boy! She swallowed to moisten her dry mouth in order to speak. “In the drawer in the other bedroom.” He plopped a quick kiss on the end of her nose and swung his legs out of bed. He turned away from her and she watched the delicious ripple of his bare buns as he strode to the door. This had to be a dream. It wasn’t possible that she was neglecting her stable, lying in her warm bed, redolent with the steamy fragrance of wonderful sex, waiting for a fantasy lover to come back to her with sex toys, which would do she knew not what. The drawer of the dresser in the spare room opened with a rattle.

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She considered her options. She could get up, dress quickly and return to her work. Or she could lie here in trembling anticipation of what he was planning to do to her only too willing body. Pushing back her hair, she smiled to herself. No contest. Quinn came back with several packages in his hands and dumped the contents on the bed. “Let’s see,” he said, rummaging through them. “What are these for?” He held up a black and gold pack. “Batteries. I guess most of them need some current.” “Electricity?” His eyebrows rose. “Right.” “In tiny things like this? Extraordinary.” He shook his head in amazement. “Jules Verne, eat your heart out.” Elaine sat up, hugging her knees. Quinn held up a device with wires and clips and looked at the packet. “Nipple teasers,” he read. “Oh, I like that idea.” He separated the strands and took one clip between his fingers. “No batteries for this. I suppose they go just so—” He stretched his hand toward her. Elaine released the hold on her knees, revealing her breasts. Her nipples were tight and puckered already at the mere thought of the touch of the clamps. He opened one set of tiny jaws and clipped them to her nipple. A chain connected the teaser to its twin, which he fastened to her other breast. He held the chain in one hand. “Oh my God.” Elaine supported herself on her hands behind her and threw back her head. Quinn tweaked the slim chain and sparks jolted through her. “Very nice,” he said. She felt his fingers brush against her breast and opened her eyes to see what he was doing. The clamps had miniature screws to tighten them. He gave them a turn and she gasped. “Not too much?” he asked. She let out a breath and a groan. “No, it’s wonderful.” The clamps held her nipples just on the bearable side of pain, which zigzagged down to her wet pussy. Still holding the nipple teasers, Quinn looked at another package. He extracted a tiny sheath connected to a miniature battery. The sheath began to vibrate. He passed her a folded piece of paper. “What does it say?” She opened the sheet and read aloud. “Place the device on your finger and let yourself experience the pleasure anywhere you desire.” “Really?” He slipped the sheath onto his finger and ran it up the inside of her thigh. Her legs fell open as if commanded by the toy and he touched the soft flesh around her clit. The device purred as it stroked her with tiny ridges. 51

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Her whole body went limp, her arms no longer able to support her. She fell back onto the bed and let him caress her all over with his vibrating finger. She rolled her head from side to side, her mind empty of all thoughts but the need to drink in the sensations he was producing in her. Her belly was on fire, her clit hot and throbbing, her hips writhing. She had no will but to let him have his way. Suddenly he drew his finger away from her and she opened her eyes. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “I won’t leave you, my lovely,” he said. “But I think I’d like a taste of this.” He slipped the sheath from his finger and placed it in her hand. The gentle purr started again as she slid the sheath on her finger. She eyed his cock, thick and dark and swollen, but reached below the enticing shaft and touched the vibrating tip to his balls. He let out a yelp and his hand tightened on the chain clamping her nipples. She cried out in turn at the hot shard that snaked through her. Quinn turned his body and placed his knees either side of her head. His cock and balls dangled in front of her eyes, the chain that tormented her nipples remained in his hand and he lowered his head to suck at her clit. She ran the tiny vibrator over his weeping penis with one hand and cradled his balls in the other, then caressed the taut muscles of his ass. After a moment he lifted his head. “I can’t wait,” he gasped and swiftly turned to lie over her, plunging his cock deep inside her. She cried out again as the pressure of his steel-hard shaft drove up toward the sting of the nipple teasers. She grasped his buttocks and slipped the miniature vibrating sheath into his crack. He threw back his head and gave a throaty roar. There was no more time to play with the chain linking her nipples, no more time to tease him with the vibrator. The wave grew inside her, sweeping up from her belly until she was nothing more than a pulsating receptacle for him. She tightened her legs around him, holding him close as she followed his orgasm within a split second. They lay exhausted for long moments, damp with perspiration, drained of all energy. After a few minutes of oblivion the telephone rang beside the bed, jarring them from their daze. “Don’t worry about it,” she murmured her eyes still closed. “If it’s important, they’ll call back.” But the ringing had pulled her from her trance. She stayed immobile for a moment longer, then sat up, releasing her nipples from the clamps. “I have to see to the horses,” she said, guilt stabbing at her. “I’ll take a shower and get dressed.” “I’ll come with you.” Oh temptation! She steeled herself. “I’ll take a rain check.” “Sorry?” “Another time. I’ll look forward to it.” 52

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Before he could say anything more, she slipped into the bathroom and flipped the latch. She stretched out, her hands on the wall to let the warm water pound her back and shoulders. Every inch of her carried a memory of Quinn, his fingers, his mouth, his cock. Was he right that she had the power to send him through the mirror? Tonight she would find out. In a few minutes she returned to the bedroom wrapped in a towel. Quinn sat crosslegged on the bed, a sheet over his hips, examining another of Maggie’s gifts. “How does this work?” He held it up for her inspection. She took the package from him and shook out straps and a flat piece. The straps draped across her fingers. “It’s a remote device. This part,” she showed the flat pack, “fits here.” She placed it over the towel at the juncture of her thighs. “Then the remote control will activate it whenever you want.” “Have you used it?” She shook her head. “I told you, Maggie gave me these things, but I never tried them.” “Will you wear it for me?” She looked at him and moistened her lips. “After we’ve seen to the horses. The shower is all yours.”

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Chapter Five Marnie and Shelly had groomed the horses and mucked out the stables, but there was still more to do. It had been a while since there had been an able-bodied man about the place and it was amazing what a difference Quinn made and how much work they accomplished together for the rest of the afternoon. They spoke little but seemed to move with one accord from task to task. Without being asked, Quinn paused to help her wrestle a bale into place or held open a door for her. After a couple of hours they brought in Star and one of the boarded animals. The other two looked hopefully over the rail of the paddock. Elaine stretched her back. There was still an hour or so of daylight. “Care for a ride?” she asked. “These two fellows need to stretch their legs.” Quinn put down the tools he was using and hauled a saddle from the wall peg. “I thought I’d have to beg,” he said with a smile. They saddled up the two horses and rode them out into the surrounding fields. Quinn rode easily and lightly, the animal seeming to understand what he wanted by some magical rapport. Elaine led them through the woods and out onto a bridle path. They climbed for a while and stopped at the top of a rise to survey the surrounding countryside. Quinn patted his mount’s neck and the horse nickered softly. “Where am I exactly?” he asked. “Forty miles or so outside Victoria.” Quinn surveyed the woodlands and the distant hills. “It doesn’t look as if it’s changed much.” She laughed. “Oh, it’s changed, believe me. The city itself has over three hundred thousand people, more if you count the suburbs. We’re all under pressure to sell our land for development.” “Three hundred thousand?” He shook his head in disbelief. Elaine’s horse stamped impatiently. “Race you to the bottom!” she called and dug in her heels. They flew down the hillside, hooves thundering on the turf, leaping over a small stream, continuing on the flat, until they pulled up neck and neck at the edge of the trees. Elaine pushed back her tousled hair and turned to him. Her breath came short and fast, her cheeks tingled from the rush of air. She hadn’t felt this good in a long while. Fantastic sex, good company, help in the stable. What more could a girl want?

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Quinn had color in his cheeks. The wind from his ride had whipped his dark hair to one side and his eyes sparkled. They looked at each other in silence, smiling, feeling no need to put their thoughts into words. The horses danced in place after the exertion and Quinn simply reached out a hand and Elaine threaded her fingers in his. They turned their mounts and walked them back along the trail leading to the stables. The thought of Quinn’s departure weighed heavily on her. If it were true that she had the power to send him back, could she do it? Could she resist the temptation to keep him with her, her helper, her lover? Her prisoner. She stole a sideways glance at him, riding easily and loosely in the saddle. His thigh brushed close to hers as they traversed a thicket and she felt the beat of her heart high in her throat. He turned his head and caught her eye. “I must go back,” he said, reading her thoughts. “I know.” “I can’t let Margaret lose her money. She was always the only one who cared about me.” “I understand.” “You can send me away and you can bring me back again.” She opened her mouth to respond, then stiffened in the saddle, lifting her head, sniffing the air. There was smoke wafting on the breeze and the acrid fumes of burning. It was illegal for people to burn slash at this time of year, although it did happen, but this aroma was stronger, more pungent. She caught a glimpse of a tendril of black smoke. “The stable!” she yelled and dug in her heels, sending her horse crashing through bushes and young trees, no longer staying on the path. She heard the thunder of Quinn’s horse behind her, then he was level with her, bent over his horse’s neck, hair flying, lips set in a thin line. In a flash he was ahead of her, breaking through the screen of trees at the edge of her property. As she spurred on, she saw him rein in his mount and fling himself from the saddle even before the animal had stopped. He ran toward the stable. The smoke was thicker now, the stink of burning much stronger. She heard a whinny of fear. “Star!” she shouted and reined in her horse. She dismounted and grabbed the dragging reins of the other animal, winding them loosely around a branch. They didn’t need these two bolting, spooked by the fire. At a full run she followed the path where Quinn had disappeared. “Quinn,” she yelled. “Where are you? Star?” As if at her command the boarded horse appeared in the doorway of the stable. She heard a guttural cry and the slap of a heavy hand on its flank and it rushed through, bumping against the lintel, eyes wild. Elaine jumped out of the way, heard its heaving 55

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breath, felt the heat of its side as it brushed past her and let it run farther into the paddock. “Quinn,” she called again and ran toward the gaping entrance. She could see flames now amongst the smoke. It was growing hard to breathe as the fire sucked oxygen from the air. Quinn appeared through the haze, sparks burning on his shirt. A streak of black scarred his cheek. She ran to him and slapped at the embers on his chest, sobbing her relief. “Thank God.” He held a towel in his hand and dunked it in the water bucket hanging near the door. “I couldn’t loosen Star,” he gasped. “I’ll go back.” He wound the wet towel around his head, leaving his eyes free. “Stay there,” he commanded. “No need for two of us to go in. Get water.” Before she could stop him he had disappeared again into the smoky gloom. In the distance she heard the sound of fire engines. Thank heavens someone had seen the smoke and had the presence of mind to make a call. “Come on, come on,” she muttered. What to do in the meantime? Much as she wanted to follow him into the inferno, she knew he was right. Water. A hose lay coiled to one side of the stable and she picked it up, but it drooped in her hand, soft and useless from the heat. The flames were licking at the windows now and Quinn had not emerged. She hurried toward the stand pipe a few yards from the barn, but before she could reach it, the clanging of the fire bell became deafening and the first engine appeared in the drive between the paddocks. Most of what happened after that passed in a blur of noise and movement. Men in heavy protective gear rolled out hoses, a stream of water hit the side of the stable and Quinn appeared, leading Star, a blanket thrown over her head. “Any more animals in there?” a fireman yelled. “No, they’re safe, thank God,” she called back. Elaine ran to the mare and threw her arms around her neck, pressing her cheek to the warm hide. The smell of singed hair filled her nostrils. She held out a hand to Quinn. “Thank you,” she said. Patches of skin showed through his burned shirt and he smelled of smoke and ash. “Are you both okay?” Before he could answer a fireman came toward them, carrying a first-aid kit. “Let me take a look at you, sir,” he said. “Are you injured? Any difficulty breathing?” Quinn coughed and threw off the steaming towel that had dropped to his shoulders. “I’m okay. It’s cool.” The fireman gave him a puzzled look, seeming at a loss for words. “Let him check you out,” Elaine said. “Please.”

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Quinn gave in and the fireman looked him over, found no cause for concern and left with his medical kit. “You could have been killed,” Elaine said looking at the remains of her stable. The worst seemed to be over and Quinn watched the fire crew coiling the hoses back into the truck. “Amazing,” he said. Elaine shook his arm. “Will you look at me? You should never have gone in there.” Quinn shrugged. “I didn’t know you had great contraptions like this to fight a fire. I thought we were on our own.” “Of course.” It was stupid of her to forget how little he knew about the modern world. Another fireman came over to them. His helmet announced “Chief”. “Afternoon, miss,” he said and mopped his face with a grimy handkerchief. “All under control now. Any idea what might have started it?” She shook her head. “None.” “What do you keep in there with the animals?” The chief pushed his helmet farther back on his head. “Only feed and tack.” “How long were you away?” “About an hour. We put the mare and the gelding in the stable before we left. Everything was fine.” “Hmm. I’ll send someone ‘round tomorrow to check it out when it’s cooled down. Pretty rapid start to a fire by my reckoning. All confined to one spot, too. The damage isn’t too great. Could be electrical and hay is a great accelerant. It looked worse than it was, although it could have spread in old wood like that.” “Can it still be used?” “I wouldn’t recommend it. Pretty dirty and wet underfoot. Besides, we’ll need to leave it undisturbed for the investigator.” He glanced at the three-sided shelters in the paddocks. “Can you use those for your animals tonight?” She nodded. “I suppose. I’ll take the horses somewhere else tomorrow until it’s cleaned up.” “Sounds like a plan.” The chief nodded to them both and stepped away, swinging himself onto the loaded fire engine. The vehicle rumbled away down the drive, leaving emptiness and surprising silence after the chaos of the battle against the flames. Elaine and Quinn soothed the frightened horses and found dry blankets. Fortunately they had been stored at the end of the stable away from the fire and had escaped a soaking. They smelled faintly of smoke and she hoped the scent wouldn’t be enough to panic the animals. They draped blankets over the horses, made sure they had enough feed and water. Elaine watched Quinn as he moved from one to the other. He had an uncanny knack of

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handling them, making them do as he wished, yet soothing and reassuring them at the same time. She knew the strength and warmth of his hands. They soothed and comforted her. Why would they do any less for the horses? The breeze and the heat had made his face ruddy and ruffled his hair. It was a mistake to stare at him, because she suddenly felt such hunger for his touch she had to turn away, had to press her fist against her abdomen to counter the emptiness she felt there. At last all the preparations were finished. Dusk had fallen and the moon was a faint white disc in the darkening sky. The full moon lasted about four nights. They had used two, one when Elaine watched the family, and one when she pulled Quinn through the glass. Tomorrow night the moon might appear full, but in fact would have a tiny sliver sliced off it. Elaine shivered and saw her breath. The air was growing cool in the cloudless night and Quinn was still in his torn shirt. “Come inside,” she said. “A hot shower and something to eat is what we need.” Quinn slipped his arm around her as they made their way back to the house. “I’ll watch them tonight.” “What?” “I’ll stay out here while you get some sleep.” “But the mirror—” He paused in his step and kissed her. “What time does the moon go down?” She clung to him, conscious of his heartbeat, of the feel of his body against her cheek and under her fingers. “I don’t know. Just before dawn, I guess.” “Then we’ll try the mirror then. You can keep watch after I’ve gone.” I’ve gone, I’ve gone… Don’t be so selfish, she told herself. He has to go. She couldn’t bear the thought of his leaving, but wouldn’t let on. She forced a smile at him and echoed the fire chief. “That sounds like a plan.” She reached out, stroked his cheek. “I want you here, but that’s my problem. Your family needs you. Now, a hot shower sounds good, doesn’t it?” The shower stall was narrow, barely big enough for two. When Quinn squeezed in beside her she edged to one side, her hip pressed against his thigh and her breasts brushing his arm. She turned her head to look at him—really look at him—and was struck breathless by all the things that had attracted her to him when she first saw him in the mirror. The strong jaw, the dark blue eyes. The air of confidence. Despite what she now knew about his upbringing, he was undeniably in control in her stable and in her bed. The hot water pounded on their naked bodies in a rhythm that echoed the beat of her heart. Quinn soaped her, moving gently down her body from neck to thigh. The scent of pine filled the small space. She took the soap from him and lathered his balls and cock, massaging, hands slithering on fragrant skin and hard muscles. His hands 58

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drew her close to him and she felt the strength of his body holding and supporting her. He traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue before parting her lips and kissing her, lightly at first and then more deeply. His erection pushed against her mound. She relaxed against him, giving herself entirely over to the waves of pleasure he produced in her. He bent his wet head and licked her nipple. “Don’t forget me,” he murmured. She gave a short laugh. “I could never forget you. I shall ache for you every minute you’re away.” “You think I will leave you tonight?” She kissed the side of his neck, letting her lips trail along the pulsing vein. “I’ll let you go,” she promised. The words hung in the air between them. “I want to make sure you feel where I’ve been inside you. Deep inside you. Something you won’t forget.” His voice was gruff with passion and his eyes gleamed hot and demanding. He bent his head over her again, touching his lips to her mouth. This was different from his earlier lovemaking. This was slow and gentle, full of emotion and meaning. It had been so long since she’d craved the sensation of a man’s mouth on hers, the caress of kisses that started on her cheek and trailed down her throat. It had been so long since she’d ached for the feel of a man’s hands on her body, the sensation of heat that was beginning to spread through her. Stop thinking, she chastised herself. Just feel. She did just that, pressing herself against the wall of cool tiles, feeling the water tingling against every inch of her sensitive skin. She pulled him with her, her head spinning as his hands moved around her ribs and found her breasts. Fire began to build in her belly. Her mouth opened for him and her hands fisted in his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers. She arched her back, offering herself to him and he took what she offered, his hands everywhere at once. Tiny cries of pleasure escaped her throat, so clever were his fingers and his tongue. His mouth clamped to hers, he cupped the cheeks of her ass and lifted her. In response she wound her legs around his waist, offering her opening to his seeking cock. He braced her against the wall and thrust inside her. She closed her eyes, lost in the rhythm of thrust and pull. She felt the tip of his cock deep inside her, pressing, probing, teasing the secret sensitive spots deep within. She moaned against his mouth and he clutched her slippery body even tighter as he gave a final thrust that took them both over the edge. Quinn allowed her to slide down over his hips until she stood on her own shaky feet. He kissed her wet face and pushed back strands of hair plastered to her cheeks. He reached out and turned off the shower, then kissed her forehead. “You’ll bring me back?” he whispered.

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It was true—she was the one with the power to send him away and summon him to her side. “If that’s what you want.” “I want, I want.” She nodded, tears mixing with the rivulets of water falling from her hair. “I know.” Elaine made soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and they ate quickly, making inconsequential small talk, neither of them voicing the thoughts uppermost in their minds. She gave Quinn a Thermos of hot coffee and a couple of muffins to take with him on his watch. She’d tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary to stand guard, but he was adamant. “Suppose it was no accident,” he said. “Not an accident? Of course it was—” “Think about it, Ellie. Someone wants your land.” She’d told him more about the offers from the developers while they’d worked that afternoon. “I was right there when he talked about a fire sale price.” Elaine insides clenched with sudden fear. “But that was just a figure of speech,” she said through stiff lips. “People say it all the time. They don’t mean—” He pulled on a big coat. “We won’t take any chances. Star seems to be fine but she could throw the foal after her fright.” He held up his hand. “I’ll call you if anything happens.” “Promise?” “I promise.” He kissed her. “You get some sleep. You’ll need your strength to move the horses tomorrow.” He moved fast, out the door, down the steps and was striding toward the paddocks before she knew it. She followed his progress as he moved swiftly over the grass, his shape clearly visible in the light of the full moon. Venus shone brightly in the darker part of the sky. Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might— Elaine squeezed her eyes closed and wished with all her heart to have the courage to send him home to help his sister and her family, and prayed that the magic of the mirror would somehow endure to bring him back to her. She lay sleepless for a long while in her lonely bed, mulling over all that had happened. The delicate skin between her legs throbbed gently, a delicious reminder of Quinn’s hard cock that had thrust into her…how many times? She had no idea and she didn’t care. She brushed her hand over her tingling nipples. All she knew was that she wanted him, wanted him by her side and in her bed forever. He’d said his sister had invested money in the Cariboo Gold Company. A thousand pounds. Even today that was a sum most people wouldn’t want to lose. In the 1880s the loss could mean ruin. Margaret thought she was helping her brother, and he’d been so 60

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sure of the solidity of the stock. Elaine recalled the bitter twist to his mouth when he spoke of how his enthusiasm had won over his sister and her husband. She wondered how Quinn was faring outside alone. He must have spent many a night wandering the countryside in Devon if she’d understood the kind of life he’d led. A wild boy and an even wilder young man. But a man longing to be appreciated, to be loved. It wasn’t hard to imagine his feelings at the thought of robbing his sister of so large a sum. She buried her face in the pillow next to her, inhaling the aroma of his hair, the muskiness of his skin. She had not showered again and could smell his scent on her, and she ached from the rawness of the night’s lovemaking. Wrapping her arms around the softness of the pillow, she cradled it against her and eventually drifted into sleep. “Elaine, my love. Wake up.” She felt his hand on her bare shoulder and opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, shaking her awake. She struggled to sit up. “What time is it?” “Your clock downstairs says a little after five. I can still see the moon, but dawn will be here in an hour or so.” He sat on the bed and took her in his arms. She laid her head on the cold fabric of his coat. “No problems out there?” “None. Silent and dark as the grave. And just as cold and lonely.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Are you cold?” She grasped his hands and chafed them between hers. “I’ve survived worse, although your coffee was much appreciated.” He smiled at her. “You could warm the rest of me.” She hesitated a moment, longing to draw him down to lie beside her, to infuse his body with the heat of hers. “No,” she sighed. “We have to get you back. The sooner you’re back and deal with your investments, the sooner you’ll come back to me. Right?” “Absolutely right, my love.” He stood. “Put something warm on and let’s try our luck.” She bundled herself into jeans and a sweater and padded down the stairs after him. In the living room, the two candlesticks stood on the mantel, one brought by Quinn, one pulled into the present by Elaine. “Do you think the candlesticks had anything to do with it?” she asked. He frowned. “How so?” “I don’t know. A connection, a thread reaching between the two rooms…” He shrugged in turn. “Possible. Who knows? I could take mine back with me.” Elaine nodded. She felt empty inside, much as she’d felt when Gramps had died. Quinn’s not going to die! The worst that could happen would be that he stayed in his own time. But wouldn’t that be a small death for her? She shook herself out of her morbid reverie and smiled brightly at him.

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“Shall we go for it?” “I’d better wear my own clothes.” “Of course, I’ll get them.” She ran upstairs and grabbed hold of the coat and trousers he’d worn only a day before. When she brought them to him, he had already stripped off his coat, his sweater and jeans. His shoes lay to one side. Without a word, he took his clothes and began to dress. “I never did mend your coat.” He glanced at her. “No matter.” She averted her eyes, not because she didn’t want to drink in every detail of his body, but because the clothes seemed to be drawing him away from her, turning him back into a stranger. She could hardly bear it. Fully dressed again, he took a step toward her and kissed her on her lips. Tears scalded her eyes and trickled down her cheek. He brushed the drops away with his thumb. “Time to go,” he whispered. She nodded and faced the mirror, clinging to his hand. Quinn took hold of the candlestick with his free hand and stepped up on the footstool. Margaret and Walter’s drawing room appeared in the mirror, misty at first, as if seen underwater, then becoming clearer. The gaslight was low, casting deep shadows in the empty room. “Is anyone there?” she whispered. “No. I think they’ve gone to bed.” In a moment Quinn had swung himself onto the mantel. Elaine squeezed her eyes shut and wished with all her might for him to pass through the glass. His hand slid from hers and she bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out. When she opened them, he was gone, and the image of the Victorian drawing room had disappeared. She stretched out her hand and met cold glass. The house felt chilly and empty. Quinn’s brief presence had filled it with life, with love, with movement. Now all was silence and loneliness. Elaine waited a half-hour in front of the mirror after it swallowed Quinn into its cold hardness, but no images reappeared. With a sigh, she tore herself away from the glass that reflected only her own pale face and her own living room and trudged upstairs. There was plenty to do to keep busy while she waited to see if and when Quinn would return. Her neighbor up the hill might agree to take the horses for a while, although she had no idea how she would pay him. Then she must contact the insurance company about rebuilding. Maybe it would be best to sell out after all. In her bedroom she straightened the covers and picked up the clit vibrator she’d promised to wear for him but never had. She tucked it back into its packet and gathered up the nipple clamps and the vibrator. She stood for a moment weighing them in her

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hands, remembering Quinn sitting on her bed examining each piece. As clearly as if he’d materialized again, she saw the ripple of his muscles, the smoothness of his skin, the lock of hair that fell across his forehead and the mischievous grin as he asked her about each of the toys. She made a decision. Heaven only knew if putting them away would help ease the pain of the memories, but it was a sure thing that if she kept them by her bed, she never would get him out of her head. She would put them back in the spare bedroom where they had been before. The drawer in the other bedroom hung open and she dropped her packages inside and slid it shut before she noticed the piece of paper. It was fastened to the wall with a long, shining piece of metal. The head of the pin gleamed. Quinn’s diamond pin. She took the note from the wall and laid the pin carefully on the side table. He obviously had not forgotten it. She smoothed out the note and sank onto the bed to read it. It was written in a flowing copperplate that she’d only seen in old manuscripts or from a computer font. “Deer Ellie,” it began. “My darlign. I want you to have this pin. It was my Fathers and given to me in a fit of genrositie that he mite now regret. It is valuabel. Use it for your stabel. I beleev I will cum back to you. I luv you with all my hart.” Elaine stared at the words, so beautifully fashioned, so wrongly spelled. Quinn was dyslexic. No wonder he had done poorly in school, had never succeeded in the way his father wanted. What effort it must have taken him to learn to form his letters. She recalled him asking her to confirm what was on the computer screen about the Cariboo Gold Company, asking her to read out the instructions for the sex toy. Yet he’d read to his nephew. No. He hadn’t glanced at the open book. He knew the story by heart or he was making it up as he went along. Many dyslexics had amazing auditory recall. Elaine thought of the children to whom she gave riding lessons, some mentally, some physically handicapped. They had difficult lives, but their teachers and their families understood their problems. They didn’t beat them because they couldn’t do what other children were capable of. She wiped away a tear. Quinn had a lovely heart, a generous spirit. She longed to take him in her arms, tell him that all was well, that he was loved and valued for the fine person he was. She touched the diamond head of the pin to her lips. “Come back to me, Quinn,” she whispered. “Come back soon.”

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Chapter Six Quinn held his breath as if rising through a pool of water and let it out as he emerged on the other side of the mirror. The room was dark except for a lit candle stub that flickered on a small table. The clock’s tick was loud in the silence but he could not make out the position of the hands. He crouched like a cat for a moment on the fireplace mantel, letting his eyes grow accustomed to the gloom. It had been just before dawn when he’d left Ellie, but Lord only knew what time it was in this world. Better to hop down fast in case the tweenie came to riddle out the cold ashes and remake the fire. He replaced the candlestick where it had been two days earlier and made haste to get his feet on solid ground. He was just congratulating himself on making a discreet entrance when he saw movement in one of the big armchairs. “Quinn? Is that you?” Margaret sat up, pushing a blanket down from her shoulders onto her knees. “My goodness, you startled me. Yes, I’m back.” It sounded pretty lame, but what else could he say? “I must have dropped off to sleep.” She rose to her feet and threw the cover to the floor. “Where have you been?” She took a step toward him and put her hand on his arm. He suddenly remembered the dressing Ellie had placed on his forehead. “Oh,” he said, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of the window, “I’ve been lying low as I promised.” He took her elbow to steer her back to her chair while with one hand he edged a nail under the sticky plaster and ripped it off. “Ouch!” Margaret turned to him. “What is it, my dear? Are you hurt?” “No, no, just a few cuts and bruises. Remember how I was always falling about as a child? Be right as rain in another day.” She let him guide her to her chair. He was beginning to see more clearly. What a blessing those lights in Ellie’s house would be, blazing like the midday sun with just the touch of a switch. He tucked the blanket ‘round Margaret’s knees. “Now, what are you doing sleeping down here at this time of night?” “I was waiting for you,” she said as if it should have been obvious to him. “You’ve been gone two days. What have you been up to?” She frowned. “How did you get in? Walter locked up when he went to bed.” She turned her head toward the door as if the answer might lie there. He ignored the first question and laid one index finger against his nose. “Now that would be telling. You know I always had secret ways in and out of the house.” 64

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She smiled. “And it drove Nanny wild.” She patted his arm. “I also remember you kept your secrets.” She didn’t need to add that he’d taken many a beating as a consequence. She reached for the candle and peered into his face. “Let me look at you. Are you sure you’re all right?” “Positive.” He knelt beside her chair and took her hand. “Margaret, you have to listen to me. About those investments—” “Where’s your diamond pin?” she interrupted. “I knew there was something missing. You haven’t sold it, have you?” “No, I haven’t sold it. It’s quite safe.” She ran her hand down his rough cheek. “Wherever you’ve been you haven’t shaved and she didn’t take care of your coat.” “She?” “You’re not going to tell me you weren’t with some woman who was willing to hide you? I know you, Quinn.” He shrugged and grinned. “You know me too well.” Let her supply the answers she wanted. It was close to the truth anyway. “But listen to me—” “Are you hungry? I’ll make some tea—” She grasped the arms of the chair to push herself up. He held onto her arms and gave her a tiny shake. “Sit and listen. I’m not hungry or thirsty.” Except for Ellie’s sweet mouth and her lovely body. He closed his eyes for a moment. Recovered, he looked his sister in the eye and put on a stern expression. “While I was gone I found out something about the Cariboo Gold Company. It doesn’t matter how I did it,” he said quickly as she opened her mouth to speak. “Just believe me that we have to get the money out of there. Did you pay it all?” She nodded, her eyes wide, fixed on his face. “What is it, Quinn? You’re frightening me.” “It’s all right,” he said calmly. “I received some advice that made me change my mind, that’s all. It’s too risky.” “But, you said—” “I know what I said. I was wrong. I’ll go tomorrow and get it all back.” Margaret placed a hand at her throat. “Do you think you can?” “I’ll have a bloody good try. Now, maybe I would like some tea after all.” Elaine was outside in the paddock when Shelly and Marnie arrived at nine and jumped off their bicycles, staring around at the blackened ruin of the stable. “Oh my God! What happened here?” Shelly gasped. “There was a fire yesterday afternoon. We kept the horses outside overnight.” “Are they okay?” “They’re fine. Just a bad fright. Only two of them were inside when it happened.” 65

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“How did it happen?” Elaine sighed. “I wish I knew. There’ll be an investigation.” Marnie looked around. “Where’s your friend? Did he leave already?” “He was called away very early.” Shelly looked at her sympathetically. “That sucks. He was a cool guy.” “Especially in those jeans.” Marnie rolled her eyes and Shelly nudged her with an elbow in the ribs. “He did a lot of work. He really liked the horses.” “Well, there isn’t anything to muck out today, so if you want to leave—” “No, no!” They propped their bikes against a railing and fished out carrots and apples from the saddlebags. They came to the paddock rail where the horses were already waiting for their treats. “Poor babies,” Marnie and Shelly crooned in chorus, each rubbing a pair of muzzles. “Thanks for staying. I have a few things to do in town. If anyone comes by, tell them I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” “Sure thing, Mrs. Christie.” Elaine started the pickup, debating what to do first. She had to find somewhere safe for the horses. She might be able to keep them outside for one more night, but they would need better shelter than the open sheds in each paddock. Especially if there was a break in the good weather. Also, the insurance claim had to be filed. What was Quinn doing? Was he already planning to return to her? How would he feel once he was back in his own world? Her desire had been enough to pull him through the first time, when he had been unaware of the power of the mirror. Now he knew what could happen would he resist? And would his resistance cancel her own influence? She shook her head, scolding herself mentally for her lack of faith in him. He’d left his diamond pin, hadn’t he? And his note promising to return? The pin was safely tucked away in her secret hiding place and his words were stored in her heart. She glanced toward the helpers. They had the brushes and combs set out on a bench and were ready to start the grooming. The horses would be fine for a few hours. The insurance office first, then. At least she would get things started. The bank and the insurance office were in the same block with plenty of parking still free. On a warm summer morning the streets were quiet. Most residents would be completing the chores around their property and vacationers would be down by the lake. She pulled in and caught sight of Jane gesticulating from the doorway to the bank. She waved back and Jane opened the door, calling out, “I won’t be able to meet you for coffee until ten.”

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“But—” Did they have an appointment she’d forgotten in the sensual haze of Quinn’s presence and the drama of the fire? “See you then.” Abruptly Jane turned away and the door swung closed. Elaine shrugged. She’d find out soon enough what it was all about. Her business in the insurance office was brief. They had already been notified of the fire, but nothing could be done until the inspector’s report was submitted. “When will that be?” The sleek young man behind the desk looked bored. “Couldn’t say exactly.” Elaine felt her temper rise. “Look, I have horses to care for. I need some help to feed and stable them.” “You’ll have to talk to my boss.” “I’ll do it right now.” “He’s out. Should be back around eleven.” “Thank you. I’ll be here.” Outside the office, Elaine hesitated on the pavement in the warm sun. She glanced at her watch. Nine forty-five. Her stomach churned and a headache had started behind her eyes, a small, niggling pain that was barely there, yet could not be denied. She had swallowed just a glass of juice before she left, unable to face anything more solid. For weeks she’d been living on sandwiches and the salad that was plentiful at this time of year. Her mind skittered between thinking about the horses and thinking about Quinn. Neither brought her peace of mind. As she stood gathering her thoughts a horse trailer trundled along the street, its passage reflected in the plate glass windows of the bank. It made her think of how she was to move the horses and, more important, where she would move them to. The coffee shop served giant-size cinnamon buns and she decided to give herself a sticky treat while she waited for Jane or the insurance agent, whichever came first. She settled at a table and ordered a pot of coffee and two cups. The bun overlapped the small plate and she began to unwind it, alternately eating the currants and licking the icing from her fingers. “You look as if you’re enjoying that.” She looked up at Jane. Her friend pulled out the other chair and immediately poured coffee into the empty earthenware mug. “Thanks for ordering the coffee,” she said, adding cream and sugar. “I can’t stay long.” She sipped, made a face and stirred in more cream. “So what’s it about? Why the coffee date?” Jane cupped her hands around her mug and leaned forward. “I heard about the fire,” she said. “Are you ok?” Elaine nodded. “I’m fine. So are the horses.”

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Jane let out a sigh. “Thank God for that.” She lowered her voice even more. “I knew it would happen.” “You what?” “Well, with hindsight I could see it. Last week I was looking for a file that had been put in the wrong drawer and I was outside Newman’s office. There was a Mr. Batt in with him.” Elaine’s heart rate increased. “I met him.” “I couldn’t help catching what they were saying. I wasn’t interested in listening, I was more concerned with the loan file that had some important information, but I heard your name…” Jane paused to sip some more coffee. “I don’t have any proof of course, but I heard ‘next week, final offer’ and then Batt said, ‘I hope Ms. Christie manages to keep all her assets. It would be too bad if all her hopes and dreams went up in smoke’. Then he looked up and saw me there and stopped talking. I found my file and moved away. What do you think? Too much of a coincidence?” The blood drained from Elaine’s head and she spoke through stiff lips. “I think he set fire to my barn and nearly killed two of my horses, that’s what I think. He said something to me about fire sale prices. I thought it was a figure of speech.” Jane nodded and took a piece of Elaine’s cinnamon bun. “So did I. He’s either very stupid or very confident he can get away with it.” She chewed her piece of bun. “Newsome’s in on it.” “Now, hey, wait a minute. That’s stretching it, isn’t it?” Jane swallowed. “God, those buns are good. Are you going to eat the rest?” Elaine’s stomach churned at the thought. She shook her head and pushed the plate across the table. “Help yourself.” Jane tore off another piece. “The loans officer is like a father confessor. I know lots of secrets. Which of course I wouldn’t tell,” she hastened to add. “Just let me say that Newsome has been buying up land and houses like crazy.” “Why?” Jane licked the last of the icing from her fingers. “Something about a resort development. Speculation in every sense of the word. He wouldn’t be the first one to get greedy.” Elaine tried to take it in. The bank manager working with unscrupulous land developers? After the events of the last few days everything was possible. “What will you do with the horses?” Jane asked. Elaine forced herself to focus on practical details. “I can’t keep them with no stable or tack. And I can’t afford to pay boarding fees for them. I’ll contact the owners when I go home. But Star—” She broke off and shook her head, tears close to the surface. Jane reached out and touched her hand. “Go see old Mr. Burchitt,” she said. “You know, lives up on Storm Ridge. He comes in the bank every week whether he needs to

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or not. Always wants to chat. I think he’s lonely. He used to keep horses until it got too much for him and the stable’s still there. No harm in asking if he’ll board Star for you.” No harm at all. “I think I remember Gramps mentioning him. They were friends once. Thanks, Jane. I’ll do that.” Jane swallowed the last of her coffee and glanced at her watch. “Got to run, honey chile. You take care. Watch your back. I mean it.” “Will do.” Jane stood and slung her purse on her shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee and the bun. By the way, did I hear you’d found a man to help out around the place?” Small towns. Nothing stayed secret for long. Elaine felt the warm blood rush to her cheeks. “Oh, no. Just an old friend visiting for a couple of days. He left this morning.” “Too bad, it would be good to have someone around. See you.” Elaine followed Jane’s progress as she walked briskly down the street back to the bank. What did it all mean? She’d never been one for conspiracy theories, but Jane’s news had sent a cold shiver of fear down her back. Suddenly she longed for Quinn to be beside her, listening, his dark chocolate voice telling her what she should do. She had to move. It was nearly eleven and the insurance agent should be back any minute. Then she would visit Mr. Burchitt and beg him to take Star. When that was done she would sit in front of the mirror and use all her willpower to bring Quinn back to her. Quinn thumped the table and an inkwell shivered, moving closer to the edge. The man on the other side of the desk stopped it and replaced it in line with the blotter and the fresh pens. “Mr. Lockyer, it will avail you nothing to be violent. Please sit down.” Parker Hamilton, president of the Cariboo Gold Company, gave an oily smile and waved a manicured hand to the upholstered chair. “I have no need to sit.” Quinn straightened, using his full height. “The money was paid to you four days ago. My sister’s husband has withdrawn his consent and share certificates have not yet been issued. I wish to withdraw the funds.” “Including your own?” “Yes.” Parker Hamilton pursed his lips and tapped the tips of his steepled fingers against his mouth. “Very difficult,” he said. “In an undertaking such as this, you know there is risk. And we have ongoing expenses to meet. A certain amount of each investment is used immediately—” “Are you telling me the money has been used already? Show me your books.” Hamilton shot him a look he couldn’t decipher and placed his hand on a leatherbound ledger on the desk. “Highly irregular,” he began.

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Quinn was beginning to understand. “I fully appreciate the difficulties in a start-up company such as this one. I did consider the risk before I invested. But my sister—” “A little hasty? Impetuous? And an angry husband to boot?” Hamilton’s tone dripped sympathy. “I do understand.” Quinn decided to sit. He crossed his legs and flicked dust from his boot. “You are a man of the world, Mr. Hamilton,” he said with a wink. “I see you understand how domestic problems can arise.” Hamilton nodded, a small grin turning up the corners of his mouth under his waxed mustache. “Indeed, indeed, Mr. Lockyer.” “Maybe we men are more hardened to a gamble than the ladies. More worldly wise, shall we say?” “Very true, sir. So maybe you wish to leave your investment and withdraw only your sister’s money?” Quinn winced, but kept a bland expression. “If you could see your way to doing that, Mr. Hamilton, it would be much appreciated. I’m sure you would not want a disgruntled husband spreading talk about your company through the town.” “But your shares would be bought with full knowledge of the risks involved?” Quinn sighed and shifted in the chair. “Of course, Mr. Hamilton. I have every confidence that you will turn my poor sovereigns into a fortune.” Parker Hamilton rose and extended his hand. “Call back tomorrow, Mr. Lockyer, and all will be ready for you.” Quinn stood in turn and shook the offered hand. “If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Hamilton, I’ll wait and take the money with me. I may be taking a trip out of town tomorrow and my sister is very anxious. Didn’t sleep a wink last night, you know.” Hamilton made a tutting noise and shook his head. “Ah, the ladies. Emotions always near the surface. I’ll see what I can do for you.” An hour later Quinn left the office with Margaret’s cash tucked into an inside pocket. So his own money was lost. Small matter. There was still the pin safely left with Ellie and when he passed back through the mirror—what need would he have for British pounds that would be long out of date? Elaine left the insurance office at eleven-thirty. She’d waited until twenty after before the agent put in an appearance. He basically told her the same as his assistant. Nothing could be done until the inspector’s report was submitted. “When will that be?” she asked. “Tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime, Mrs. Christie, make a list of what you need and I’ll see if I can get an advance for you. It won’t be the full amount, but it might help get you going again.” His expression was kindly. She had steeled herself to fight again and had to blink back tears at the unexpected understanding and helpfulness. 70

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She thanked him. “No problem. I know how difficult it can be. You don’t want any more obstacles put in your way. Phone Gerry out in the office there,” he nodded toward his assistant, “and give him a ballpark figure. Just the bare essentials, you understand.” “I understand. I’ll do it this afternoon.” She drove out of town and took the meandering road up to Storm Ridge and Mr. Burchitt’s property. She found the old man puttering about mending a fence. “You must be Dan’s granddaughter,” he said wiping his hands on his baggy overalls. “Recognize the truck. I see it around town.” He stuck out his hand. “I still miss him.” “So do I.” He rubbed his fingers over gray stubble on his chin and looked at her carefully. He was small, but wiry, with a thatch of white hair and sharp blue eyes. “What can I do for you, young lady?” “I have a problem,” she began. “Then I guess you need a seat and some lemonade.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and led the way to a shady porch by the house. Elaine had no choice but to follow. He made her sit and wait while he disappeared indoors and emerged with two cold glasses of lemonade. He sank into a rattan chair next to her and took a sip. “Shoot,” he said. He reminded her so much of her grandfather that she felt comfortable telling him more than she originally intended about the financial difficulties, the lack of paying customers and the fire. He let her talk without interruption, sipping his lemonade, his eyes on her face. From time to time he nodded. “So I’m hoping you could help me out by boarding my horses for a while,” she finished. “If you have room and it’s not too much for you. I’ll pay you a fair rate, Mr. Burchitt.” He drained the last drops from his glass and set it down on a small wicker table. “First you call me Jim,” he said. “Second, I’m glad to help out. Not enough to keep me out of mischief around here these days.” He looked out at the far block of stables. “I’ve got ten stalls and they’re in good repair. All empty of course.” Elaine started to thank him but he held up a hand. “These are my terms,” he said. Elaine felt her stomach lurch. Surely he wouldn’t ask more than she could afford? “You supply the feed and I’ll not charge you for the stabling. I’ll help with the grooming and the exercising but I’ll need help if you have four horses.” He slapped his right leg. “Arthritis is okay today but sometimes it plays me up real bad.”

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Elaine let out a long sigh of relief. “Mr. Burchitt—Jim—I don’t know how to thank you. I’ll bring up what you need to get started and arrange for a trailer to bring the animals—” “No need. Come with me.” He rose to his feet and led the way to an area behind the house. “Still got a hitch on that pickup?” he asked as they walked. “Yes.” “Then take the trailer.” In a corner of the yard a two-horse trailer sat in the shade. “It’s all insured. Back up your vehicle and we’ll get it hitched up.” Jim helped her attach the trailer and stood back to mop his face with a yellow handkerchief. “There’s one more cost,” he said. “What’s that?” Elaine asked warily. “When you come up here you sit for a half-hour and chat.” She laughed. “Of course I will.” She touched his arm. “I’d be happy to. How come we don’t know each other?” Jim frowned and looked away. “When your granddaddy and I were close, you were away at college and then busy getting married. Then something happened and we didn’t see much of each other after that.” “I see.” She didn’t really see, but a closed expression had come over the old man’s face and she didn’t want to press him, so left her questions for another time. Jim waved goodbye as she left an hour and another glass of lemonade later. She knew there was a silly grin on her face as she rounded the first bend on her way back to her property. Things were looking up. The help from the insurance agent and Jim Burchitt had been enough to raise her spirits. Quinn would be back, maybe tomorrow, and together they would fight the developers and win. She started to hum a song as she shifted gears for the downhill slope. She’d make yet another sandwich and do her calculations while she ate. Then she’d load the horses on her own if she had to, deliver them to Jim and wait for Quinn. The mention of her grandfather brought to mind one of the songs he loved to sing while he worked. “He is my heart’s delight,” she hummed. How did it go on? Something like “where he is, I want to be”. The shadows were short under the midday sun as she turned into her driveway with the trailer and pulled up short. Another horse box filled the turning circle in front of the house and a man in jodhpurs paced along the paddock rail. A girl of about ten, also in riding kit, was leading one of the boarded horses to the gate. When he saw the pickup the man strode toward her before she had even switched off the ignition. Where were Marnie and Shelly? They were usually conscientious about waiting for her to be home before they left for the day.

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Elaine pulled on the parking brake and got out of the pickup. The man was the owner of one of her boarded horses and she offered her hand in greeting, just about to tell him she’d found alternative accommodation. He ignored her hand and stood in front of her, hands clasped behind his back. “Here you are at last,” he barked. “I didn’t want to take the horse without letting you know, but I don’t have much time.” His daughter reached the gate with her horse. “We’ll take them both,” the man plowed on. “I have a note here from the other owner giving me permission to remove his animal too.” He fished in a pocket and his eyes flicked to the burned-out stable. “Since you are no longer able to care for them, there will be no problem in breaking the contracts.” He rocked back on his heels. Her good mood evaporated like morning mist. “I’ve been in town obtaining some funds to keep going and finding stabling for all four horses,” she began, determined to keep her chin from wobbling and making a fool of herself by crying from frustration. “I can continue with our contract.” “So sue me,” he retorted. “I won’t change my mind. Too many stories going around about this place even before this. And even after the fire which could have killed them all, you leave them unattended.” He moved to open the door of the trailer. “Lead him in, Gwen,” he called to the girl. “We don’t have all day.” Fuming and gritting her teeth, Elaine watched them load the two horses and pull away. Another strike against her, but she wasn’t finished yet. Some people were on her side—the insurance guy, Jim Burchitt, Jane and Maggie, her two good friends. Plus Marnie and Shelly. Then there was Quinn. Quinn was her ace in the hole. She frowned. The thought of the teenagers reminded her of her question about where they were. She glanced around. The bicycles were gone from the spot where they had been lodged. The girls must have taken off early. She turned on her heel as the dust settled from the passage of the horse trailer and let herself into the house. As the door swung open, she hesitated. A faint, unpleasant odor hung in the air, as if garbage had been left too long in the heat of the kitchen. But she’d emptied the pails after breakfast this morning. She sniffed. Could an animal have come in through an open window? Raccoons could undo latches and they were always bold in hunting for food. A mother and baby had wriggled into a neighbor’s bathroom once when the family was on vacation and the window had slammed behind them. Both had died on the bathroom floor. But there had been no raccoons this morning and nothing that might have died would smell so bad so soon. She moved toward the kitchen and stood in shock on the threshold. Bits of broken chair lay on the table and almost all the crockery was missing from the shelves. The walls had been smeared with something, leaving great swooping dark streaks all over them. She didn’t stop to check for any more damage. The place stank like a urinal. The total silence and the smell told her the perpetrators were no longer in the house. They

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weren’t ready to touch her physically, but the message was clear. “We can kill your horses, destroy your house. We can do whatever we want, whenever we choose.” She knew she ought to call the police, but there was something she had to do first. Despite her conviction that she was alone, she grabbed a large knife lying on the kitchen floor where a drawer had been tipped over. She held it in front of her as she staggered upstairs, her legs like jelly. The bedrooms were in the same state as the lower floor, with mattresses ripped and a pile of feces on the carpet in the main bedroom. The stink pervaded everywhere, making it hard to think. Her quick inspection confirmed that the vandals were long gone. She looked around for something to stand on and in the back bedroom, where she kept Maggie’s sex toys, found what appeared to be the one remaining complete chair in the house. She couldn’t resist a quick look into the drawer. The vibrator was in pieces, as was the clit stimulator that Quinn had asked her to wear. She had a quick flash of him lying on the bed as she came out of the shower, examining the other toys. The two sets of balls that had been Maggie’s last gift were out of the box and on the floor, but otherwise undamaged. Almost without a thought she bent down to scoop up the pleasure balls and slipped them into her pocket. Then she turned her mind to her search. Her head pounded in rhythm with her heart as she hauled the chair out onto the landing and put down the knife. Shakily, she climbed on the chair and reached above her head. The trapdoor to the attic didn’t appear to have been disturbed. She lowered it carefully, pulled down the attached ladder and scrabbled with her fingers under the third step from the bottom. A plastic sandwich bag was neatly taped below, at eye level when the ladder was extended and completely hidden when it was folded. Quinn’s pin, safe and sound. Relief flooded over her and she offered a silent prayer of thanks that she had taken the time to conceal it. She tore away the sticky tape, pulled the little package free and slipped it into her trouser pocket with the pleasure balls. Then she clambered back up on the chair, folded the ladder and closed the hatch before returning the chair to the bedroom. Next she called the police to report the break-in. The dispatcher repeated the address, then said, “We already received a request to check the place out. The regular patrol will stop by any time now.” “Why? Who?” Elaine’s mind was in turmoil, making it impossible to force out a coherent question. “The patrol officers will give you the details. I’ll let them know to get there right away.” What had been going on while she was out? The break-in must have been quick and definitely dirty. When had the guy with the horse trailer arrived? Thank God the damage was confined to the house and the animals were safe. She paced a bit while she waited for the patrol car, then went back upstairs to grab some clothes. She wouldn’t be able to stay here tonight, or for some time—until the place was cleaned up. When she opened the wardrobe door the stench hit her anew.

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Her clothes seemed to be impregnated with urine. She ran from the room emptyhanded and down the stairs helter-skelter. At the foot of the stairs, she paused. She hadn’t checked the living room. Maybe they had missed it. Maybe the kitchen and bedroom were more personal and better targets. Even before she opened the door, she knew she would be proved wrong. Everything had been turned over and broken, the sofa slashed to ribbons, the TV screen caved in. With dread in her heart she looked up at the mirror. Someone had driven a heavy object into the center of the glass, sending a starburst of breakage in every direction. She sank to the floor and buried her head in her hands. How could Quinn come through that?

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Chapter Seven “Who filed the report?” Elaine asked the police officers. “I’m still a bit worried about the two girls who help me.” “Names?” “Marnie Johnson and Shelly Baines?” “That’s right. Miss Marnie Johnson. She said they were leaving when they saw a group of young men arrive in a pickup. She didn’t like the look of them and when she spoke to them, they were threatening. But they claimed to be lost and the girls watched them for a while. Then they very sensibly left and stopped by the station.” Elaine nodded. At least the girls were safe. “Thank you.” “Looks as if someone has it in for you.” The younger of the two police officers looked around the wrecked living room. “Especially with the fire last night.” His partner gave him a stern glance. “We can’t jump to conclusions at this stage. We’ve had some vandalism at a few places over the summer.” “But nothing like this,” Elaine said. “No.” The older officer chewed the end of his pencil. “I must say it does look suspicious.” He flipped his notebook closed. “We got a bit of a description from your helpers, but the truck was probably stolen. They were wearing baseball caps and sunglasses, so there’s not much detail.” “I understand.” “We’ll send some people over to dust and do what we can.” He flipped his notebook closed. “Can’t hold out a lot of hope, though. Some of these gangs come in from the city and are long gone by the time we start looking for them.” He hitched his belt. “Do you have somewhere to stay? This place won’t be habitable for a while.” Elaine felt her lip tremble as she looked at the cracked glass and then made her chin firm. “I have to take my two horses to a new stable. Then I’m expecting a friend.” “Good. Do you want us to wait while you get ready to leave or until your friend arrives?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure when that will be. It won’t take me long to collect some things, there’s nothing much to take. I’ll follow you in a couple of minutes.” The other officer put on his cap. “Good thing you weren’t around when they did this. They don’t like people getting in their way.” His colleague edged him toward the door and they both made polite goodbyes. Elaine saw the older cop talking as they strode toward the cruiser. Probably telling him to button his lip and not scare the victim more than she had been already.

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She heard them start their engine and had an insane desire to giggle. Now what? Elaine glanced again around the room, taking in the tumbled furniture and smashed screens. The vandals had reserved their more disgusting antics for her personal space upstairs and this area was at least clean. Her eye rested finally on the cracked mirror. She and Quinn had believed the magic properties of the glass could have been enhanced by the full moon and the summer solstice. And by Elaine’s own desire to hold him in her arms. She approached the mirror and for the first time noticed the candlestick from the Masterton house lying on the floor. Someone had seized it and struck the mirror with the heavy base. They must have been in a hurry to do as much damage as possible and had not spent enough time to smash the mirror entirely. She ran a finger over the surface. Although the star shape of cracks distorted her image, there were no pieces missing. Was it enough to bring Quinn back? Was the magic in the glass, or even in the frame? Oh God, she ached for him. She had to have him near her, had to breathe in the scent of his hair, feel the roughness of his cheek against her skin… She closed her eyes. What would she do if the mirror no longer worked? The pleasure balls rubbed against her thigh. What was it Maggie had said? “Just insert them and enjoy!” She’d claimed the balls made her want her lover even more. She wanted Quinn already with every fiber of her being and needed him now more than ever. Without a conscious thought Elaine found herself holding the two metal objects in the palm of her hand. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered, setting the balls on a table that still stood on four legs, then undoing the zipper on her jeans. A fever fired her blood. If desire was in the equation, she’d make sure she was melting for him. She would only think of him and the delights he would have in store for her if he returned. The denim slid over her hips and she wriggled out of her panties. The air felt cool on her skin and she took a deep breath. Thinking about Quinn and what she was doing to prepare for him had already made her moist between her legs and she spread her feet. But how did these things work? Maybe she should lie down? There was nowhere but the floor, so she chose a spot that looked relatively clear and picked up the two shiny metal pleasure balls. They grew warm in her hand as she held them. Legs spread and knees up, she fixed her eyes on the mirror and took one ball in her fingers bringing it to her naked crotch. One metal sphere slid between her wet lips as if returning to its nest. She felt an instant of coolness inside her that bathed her opening with even more creamy liquid and then the pressure of the ball blossomed and held her in sensuous dilation. If one felt like this, what might two do? There was only one way to find out. The other ball on its silk cord touched the lips of her vulva. She took a deep breath and slipped it inside her. It edged its mate deeper into her until the lips of her vagina closed, holding them both tightly in place. Taking in a deep breath, she gently rubbed the flat of her hand over her abdomen. Shards of pleasure lanced in every direction. 77

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She’d had no idea. No wonder Maggie talked about “preparing the ground”. She already wanted to lift her hips in response and spread her knees wide to invite her lover in. With one finger she touched her clit and gasped at the jolt that snaked through her. She could make herself come in seconds. If the balls made her feel this way motionless on her back, what would they feel like when she was on her feet and moving around? She took her hand away. She would wait for Quinn. He should be the one to make her come, to watch her writhe and moan under his clever hands and lips. She had to believe that he would come back to her. Tentatively she sat up, then rose to her feet. The balls moved inside her, massaging her sensitive flesh, their weight and warmth impossible to ignore. She pulled on her underwear and then her jeans. Time to take the horses to Jim Burchitt and wait for the moonlight. Before she left she opened all the windows and closed the doors to the bedrooms in the hope it would confine some of the unpleasant odor. There was no need to worry about thieves, between the fire and the break-in there was nothing left worth stealing. The thought made her pause and pat Quinn’s diamond pin, still tucked into her pocket, but she went back to the mirror and picked up the candlestick. It was solid silver by the weight of it. And it might form one of the connections to Quinn she needed to have. She hefted it by the base. It would make a pretty good weapon too. She placed the candle holder on the passenger seat then loaded the two horses into Jim’s trailer and glanced at her watch. Already four p.m. She fired up the motor of the pickup and pulled gently out of the driveway. Jim Burchitt was outside his house, pretending to trim a hedge, but Elaine was pretty sure he was waiting and watching for her. He put down his clippers and came to the vehicle. “Everything okay?” “The horses are fine.” She got out of the driver’s seat and stretched her back. He glanced at her shrewdly. “And you?” “I’m okay. Let’s get the animals settled.” It took them the best part of an hour to make sure both horses were happy and eating. “We can leave them for a half-hour, then check again,” Jim announced. “I’ll make some tea.” Before Elaine could protest, he strode across the yard to his house. It was a low brick structure with two gable windows piercing the steep roof. Elaine followed him into a long passageway that connected the front and back entrances. Jim turned into a doorway at the back and led the way into a large, bright kitchen. A rocking chair with a colorful afghan stood to one side. Pots and pans glistened and shone from hooks and 78

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racks. Sparkling crockery were stacked on shelves. It was not like any bachelor kitchen Elaine had ever seen. “I don’t use the front of the house at all.” Jim filled a kettle at the stainless steel sink. “I can do all my living right here. The place is too big for me really, but my wife loved it. I couldn’t part with it. What do you think of my housekeeping?” He lit a gas ring and smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. Elaine said what she’d been thinking. “It would put my kitchen to shame.” “Well, every time I’m tempted to let go, I can hear my wife’s voice and I keep it just as she left it.” He motioned Elaine to sit at the table. “How long has she been gone?” “Ten years.” He fingered the sugar bowl. “It was mercifully fast. Then it was just me and Bob, my son. He was killed six years ago in a car crash. He was only twenty.” The kettle whistled and he stood up abruptly and busied himself with tea bags and cups, his face turned away. “You must miss them terribly.” “Yup. Every minute of every day.” He brought the steaming tea to the table and pushed milk and sugar toward her. “Now it’s your turn.” Elaine stirred her tea and looked at him. “I said fair trade was spending some time talking, so tell me about yourself. I know you love horses and you treat them well. What else?” “Well, I lost someone in a car accident too,” Elaine began. She sipped the tea and nibbled on an oatmeal cookie. She hadn’t intended to divulge all her problems but Jim was a good listener and she found herself telling about her financial difficulties, the developer and finishing with the fire and the vandalism. Although Jim had spoken of hearing his wife’s voice, she figured that was a figure of speech and she kept quiet about the mirror and Quinn. When she finished Jim stood up and carried the tea cups to the sink. He spoke with his back to her as he turned on the water. “Sounds as if you need somewhere to stay.” “I have some friends in town…” He turned to face her, drying his hands on a towel. “I’m sure you have, a pretty girl like you. Bright, too.” He folded the towel and hung it on a rail, smoothing it out. “But your friends aren’t near the horses, are they?” “No, but—” “Are they both yours?” “Only Star, the mare. She’s in foal, as I’m sure you noticed. The other has boarded with me for three years. The owners are out of the country right now.” “So they won’t suddenly appear and whisk the animal away?”

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“Right.” “But you want to make sure both horses are safe?” “Of course.” “Come with me.” Once again Jim led the way without a backward glance and Elaine found herself on her feet and following. He led the way to a side door that opened into a wide hallway. This was obviously a wing of the house she had not noticed. Jim talked as he moved on. “Built this extension for Bob after he left school. Figured he’d want some privacy if he was to stay home.” He opened a door. “There’s a living room and a small bedroom. Plus a kitchenette where you can make a cup of coffee—” The whole place gleamed and shone like the rest of the house. A faint lemony perfume wafted on the breeze from a half-open window. The curtains stirred. Jim strode forward and flung open the door to a bedroom. A queen-sized bed almost filled the space, but a small dresser stood in the corner. “En suite bathroom over there.” He waved a hand. “It’s lovely.” Elaine took a breath. “But I don’t think I could afford—” “Do you want to insult me?” “Of course not—” “Then don’t talk nonsense. You can pay me when the insurance comes through or you sell out.” She frowned. “I won’t sell out.” “I know, my dear. Just thinking of all possible options.” He patted her hand. “There’s one other thing—I may have a friend join me—” “Hmm.” He frowned. “Male or female?” She swallowed. “Male.” “Serious?” She nodded. “Love?” She took a deep breath and felt the pleasure balls move inside her. Instinctively she clenched the muscles of her vagina. “Yes.” “Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that love is the most important thing. I never told my wife often enough that I loved her and I regret it every day. Bring your friend along. If I don’t like him I’ll tell you so.” He tried to put on a stern look, but a smile broke through. “Does he like horses?” “He’s wonderful with horses.” “Chances are I’ll get along fine with him. It’s all settled then.” He took a set of keys from a hook and held them out. “Welcome to Storm Ridge. When will your friend get here?”

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“Er—sometime tonight. After dark.” “I go to bed at nine, so don’t make a lot of noise when you come in.” She thought of Quinn coming back and lying in bed with her. He had made her cry out time and again and she had let fly with abandon in her own bed. She would need to muffle her cries with this kind old man close by. She realized she no longer doubted that Quinn would return. Just another symptom of her love mania. The keys in her hand, she brushed a kiss on Jim’s leathery cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “We’ll be like mice.” “Surrounded by metal,” Elaine thought as she slid behind the wheel of her pickup and touched the candlestick. Quinn’s diamond and gold pin was in her pocket, pressing into her thigh, reminding her of his smile and warm eyes. The pleasure balls lay snugly inside her body, recalling with every movement the sensation of him buried deep within her. The candlestick lay within reach, solid proof of where Quinn had come from. She had no idea if metals played any part in paranormal experiences. She either had too much metal or not enough and there was nothing now she could do about it. She was probably crazy, going back alone to the house. But she had no choice. It was as if some drug had gripped her brain in a powerful addiction that she could not refuse. If there was any chance of bringing Quinn back, she had to take it. The sun was low as she drove home, the windows of the truck wide open. She inhaled the warm fragrances of summer as she passed different locations—cut grass, wood fire, sizzling steaks, full-blown flowers. She pulled into her own drive and switched off the engine, sitting in the sudden silence. The motor ticked quietly as it cooled and a sudden breeze ruffled the trees. Cries from down by the lake startled her, until she realized there must be a baseball match in the park. Apart from the burned-out stables, everything looked perfectly normal, except there were no horses in the paddocks. She got out of the truck, closing the door softly so as not to disturb the calm. It was some time since she had paused to truly take in all the details of the property. It had grown so familiar to her that she didn’t see it anymore. It was a beautiful spread, the house sheltered in a corner by tall beeches and the perimeter edged with poplars that had towered over everything when she was a child. Each of the paddocks had a shady spot as well as room for the animals to trot. She tried to imagine it with bungalows and townhouses and streets and her mind balked. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Quinn’s house had disappeared and was now a parking lot. This place could go the same way. She reached in through the open window and seized the candlestick. The sun was low now and above the trees she could make out the gossamer outline of the moon. It still looked full, even though she knew there was a tiny sliver taken from one side. Desire, the moon, the candlestick, the mirror. She squeezed her eyes closed, praying they would be enough. 81

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Quinn lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, one foot dangling. He held a cold cup of tea in one hand and toyed with the spoon. He could no more have swallowed a mouthful than fly in the air. His stomach clenched in knots as he prayed that Margaret would put down her damned sewing and take herself off to bed. The evening had been interminable. First Margaret and Walter had examined the return of Margaret’s money in minute detail, driving him nearly mad with their questions and speculations. He suffered with a smile on his face, telling himself this would be the last time he would see his sister in this life. Then Edward had demanded a story. That had been harder. He loved the boy and it pained him deeply to think he would not see him grow up. Elaine had been afraid that he might not want to return to her once he was back in his own time, but she need not have worried. He couldn’t wait to get back to her and the wonders of her world. She had said there were machines to read books to you. He might spend the rest of his life just listening to books and making love to Elaine. At the thought his cock stirred in his trousers and he lowered the teacup to hide the movement. Margaret looked up and clipped the thread from her needlework. “I think I’m ready for bed,” she announced. Walter folded his paper. “I’ll come with you, my dear.” Quinn couldn’t hide a smile. If Elaine had offered such an invitation he would have leapt to his feet and carried her off up the stairs, the needlework be damned. That is, if he didn’t ravish her then and there on the hearthrug. He glanced at the mirror. Of course, he had never been able to see through it, so he had no idea what Elaine was doing. Was she there in her living room waiting for him? He stood when his sister rose to her feet. She came toward him and offered her cheek for a kiss. Instead, he encircled her with his arms and hugged her tight. “I love you, Margaret,” he croaked. “Never forget that.” She stood for a moment then pushed away. She raised one hand to smooth his hair, a puzzled look on her face. “I love you, too, dear boy.” “I know you do. If ever I have to go away, will you think kindly of me?” “Go away? What are you talking about?” “Some business might call me away suddenly. If it does, remember that I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me.” She laughed. “I’m your sister. You’re my baby brother. I’ll always have a special place for you in my heart.” He kissed her forehead. “Good night, sister.” “Good night.” She patted his shoulder and followed Walter from the room. Quinn heard his brother-in-law’s gruff tones. “Whatever was that all about?” Margaret laughed again. “Heaven only knows. Quinn always had a wild imagination…” 82

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Their voices faded with the candles they carried and Quinn was left alone with the mirror. Elaine placed the candlestick on the mantelpiece and found one sofa cushion that she could still use. She put it on the floor and sat, her legs straight out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. The pleasure balls had threatened to slip from her a couple of times and she had soon realized how to tighten her muscles to keep them in place. After a few hours, her body was screaming for release. The open windows had allowed the breeze to waft away most of the stench from upstairs and she took a deep breath. The shadows deepened and the light of the moon became more visible as it touched the tips of the trees. The swaying branches made a delicate tracery on the walls, concealing the streaks and gouges left by the vandals. She closed her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could on Quinn. A faint sound came from the direction of the mirror and her eyes flew open. Vague shapes in the room on the other side grew visible as she watched, but Margaret’s house was in darkness like her own. A candle flame shed a pool of light close to the couch, its glow distorted by the cracks in the mirror. As she watched, a dark shadow moved across the beam of light and came closer to the glass. Quinn! She gasped aloud and her heart began to pound, sending a rhythmic tattoo to her head. Her mouth grew suddenly dry. She rose to her feet on shaky legs and took a step toward him, calling his name. He picked up the candle from the side table and carried it with him until he was within two steps of the mirror. He raised the light, throwing the planes of his face into sharp relief. She craned forward to see him, thankful that he seemed unhurt, although the broken glass made his head shimmer, break and coalesce as if he were reflected in moving water. If he was here, he must have transacted the business about Margaret’s money. The family had obviously gone to bed, so he wanted to return to her. Her heart sang. Tentatively, she stretched her fingers toward one unbroken piece of glass. She felt the cold solidity for a second and then her hand passed through. Quinn saw it and reached to touch the tips of his fingers to hers. For a moment they stood frozen, then he laced his fingers in hers and she felt the warmth and hardness of his palm against hers. He must have placed a stool in readiness, for as his grip tightened he stepped up until he could kneel on the mantelpiece. She clung to him in desperation, not daring to let go. If her hand could pierce the glass barrier, why not his whole body? The thought

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flashed through her mind that if he could not come through, then she would hold on to him and join him in his world… Very slowly she drew back her arm, pulling him toward her. For a heart-stopping second his hand hesitated when it met the glass. “Quinn,” she said, “come to me. I’m here. I love you, I desire you more than anything else in the world. Come back to me.” As if in response to her words, the glass grew soft and shimmered. First Quinn’s arm, then his shoulder, finally his whole body passed through the mirror. He stood at last in the dim light of her living room, his hand still tightly clasped in hers. In his other hand he held the second candlestick. He placed it on the mantel. “I thought I should bring it.” He gave her his lopsided grin. “Since we have no idea why this works.” “You’re right. It’s pure magic.” She looked at him, drinking in every cherished element of his face, his wide shoulders, his slim hips. He grinned more widely, pushing back his lock of hair with his free hand. “Are you going to just look at me, woman?” He drew her closer until her body skimmed his. “Or are you going to let me fuck you right here on the rug?” “Yes, please,” she whispered against his mouth. Her body melted against his and he fastened his lips to hers. The pressure on her mouth added to the pressure of the metal balls inside her and she lost total control. A mist cloaked her eyes and an urge she could not resist seized her brain. In a mindless frenzy she felt for the fastening of her jeans and shucked them from her legs. Quinn ripped her shirt from her shoulders and tore her bra from her, baring her breasts. His hands moved over her, teasing her nipples, caressing her ribs. She moaned, naked in his arms, feeling his probing tongue in her mouth, every part of her on fire. Her legs buckled and she began to sink to her knees, tearing her mouth from his. She clasped his legs as he undid the buttons of his fly and tugged the trousers down to the ground. Her mouth touched his swollen cock and he braced his legs with a guttural sound in his throat, abandoning the tiny buttons of his shirt. She felt his hands on the back of her head, guiding her greedy mouth to the tip of his stiffened penis. Delicately, she probed the weeping tip with her tongue, delving into the slit, tracing the circle of the head. He pressed harder and she took in the whole member until she tasted his semen at the back of her throat. Then his hands were on her shoulders, steadying her, pushing her down farther as he also sank to the floor. She twisted with him, holding him fast in her mouth, until he lay flat and she crouched on all fours between his legs. Moisture streamed from her vagina and the pleasure balls slipped from her. She no longer cared. In a few minutes she would have Quinn in their place.

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She pleasured him for a few moments longer, then released his cock. “My turn,” she whispered. She moved up his legs until she sat astride him, kneeling, poised over him with the entrance to her vagina brushing his penis in exquisite torture. He reached for her breasts and took the swollen globes in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the pebbled nipples. She gasped and sank down on him, letting him spear her so deep she felt the stab against the opening of her womb. He drove into her, holding her down against him as she rode, driven by a primal, soundless beat. The metal balls and her own building lust had made her vagina hot and wet, sensitive to the slightest touch. Quinn stretched her, filling her to capacity and her swollen clit rubbed against his pubic bone. She had no coherent thoughts, no purpose but to have him bring her to climax. She gazed down at him and smiled at the look of pleasure on his face. His lips curved in delight and he watched her through half-closed eyes, playing her like a fine-tuned musical instrument with his hands wandering over every inch of her. Very soon—too soon—the wave built inside her with a sweet pain that made her cry out as it grew to crescendo. Her back arched and she flung back her head as the tremors began deep inside her, spreading outward like ripples of fire until they consumed her entirely. When he saw and felt her orgasm, Quinn held her tight around her hips and gave a shout as his hot seed spilled inside her. Elaine lay weak and satiated on his chest. Quinn stroked her back and kissed her hair. The moon had risen over the trees and cast a silvery light into the room. She felt Quinn turn his head, then sit up, shifting her weight from his side. He looked around the room. “What in damnation happened here?”

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Chapter Eight Elaine lifted her weight from him and sat against his thigh, resting her hand on his abdomen. His muscles were warm and hard and she could feel the beat of a pulse. With her other hand she pushed back her hair. The moonlight was stronger and their eyes had adjusted to the gloom. A sudden coldness made her skin prickle, and she shivered, either from some cool current of air or from the return to the reality of the wrecked room. She grabbed her blouse and pushed her arms into the sleeves. “This isn’t the worst,” she said. “Upstairs it stinks to high heaven.” “Who did it?” Quinn stroked her hair and smoothed her shoulder. “Probably the same people who torched the stable. They want my land.” Quinn scrambled to his feet and pulled on his trousers. The moonlight caught the set of his jaw, the tension in his face. He bent to put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face. “They didn’t hurt you?” “No.” His strong hands pulled her up. She began to dress. “I was out looking for stabling for the horses. Thank God they just vandalized the house. They didn’t bother the animals.” She told him the rest of what she knew. It wasn’t much, and by the time they were clothed again she had finished. “The police are trying,” she concluded. “We have something of a description.” “Where are the horses now?” She smiled at him. “The bad news is that two have been taken by their owners. The good news is that Star and the gelding are safe and happy. And,” she finished, flinging her arms ‘round his neck, “we have a place to stay where the horses are.” She looked into his dark blue eyes and her heart turned over. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come through,” she whispered. “They broke the mirror. I was so afraid.” She stroked his cheek, then buried her face in the delightful nook between his neck and his shoulder and sighed happily. “I’ll never let you go again.” She sensed Quinn turn his head to look at the shattered glass. He slipped his arm around her waist and led her toward it. “The power has to be in the other things as well as the glass,” she said. She caught sight of the candlestick on the mantel. “You brought the other candlestick.” Quinn chuckled. “Poor Margaret was mystified by the disappearing candle holders. I let her think I had pawned them so I had to hide the one I took back with me. It would have been too much for her if only one reappeared.” Elaine leaned against him. “I don’t know what brought you through. I’m just thankful something did. I concentrated as hard as I could on wanting you.” She thought of the metal balls and the sensation of them inside her. 86

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He kissed the top of her head. “Can I see upstairs?” She wrinkled her nose. “Do you really want to?” “Just a quick look.” Hand in hand they left the living room and mounted the stairs. The stench grew stronger as they climbed. “Ugh!” Quinn made a grimace of distaste. At the door of her bedroom he stood contemplating the bed, with its pile of excrement. “They know how to strike a blow where it hurts. I thought of it as our bed.” “Do you think they knew we had slept in here?” “No matter if they knew or not. It still stabs to my heart. It was my first time in a bed.” He took a step forward and peered at the heap of feces. “Not human,” he announced. “Probably dog.” The smell was giving her a bad taste in her mouth. “I wondered about that. They brought it with them.” He straightened. “Right.” On the landing he paused again. “The other room too?” “Same thing.” He opened the door and looked at the jumble of sex toys, broken and defiled. “Pity about the toys.” He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Does your friend know where to get more?” “I’m sure.” “You owe me the one with the remote control.” God, the thought made her knees tremble. She had to swallow before she could speak. “I remember.” She took a breath. “I did rescue one thing.” She led him back down the stairs and into the living room. The pleasure balls had rolled to one side during their lovemaking but she retrieved them easily. She wiped them off with a tissue from her pocket and held them out on the palm of her hand. A few days ago she would have blushed scarlet and been completely tonguetied even thinking of a sex toy. Okay, so she felt the blood rise in her face, but she looked Quinn in the eye. “I had these inside me today. They drove me almost crazy while I waited for you. I thought it might help you come through the mirror.” His eyes glittered with desire and he closed her fingers over the balls with his warm hand. “You took them out.” He paused. “Is there room for all of us inside you?” The man was insatiable. She loved it. “We could try.” She had a vision of Quinn’s hard, thick cock pushing the balls deep inside her. Lust flickered again. “I’ll take them with me.” Quinn lifted her hand holding the larger balls to his lips. “Is the new bed far from here? I might not be able to wait too long.” “It’s fifteen minutes away.” “If I try very hard I might be able to last. Pity the stables aren’t available.” 87

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She swallowed again. “There are stables where we’re going.” She was completely shameless. “Good, I’ll bear that in mind.” She found a few clothes still wearable and slipped them into a bag with the pleasure balls between the folds. As she drove to Storm Ridge, Quinn kept his hand high on her thigh. “Tell me about the investment,” she asked to keep her mind on something other than his wandering fingers. He rubbed the denim between her legs, making her squirm. “All taken care of.” He took the tab of her zipper between his thumb and forefinger and tugged. “For you and Margaret?” she gasped. “Just Margaret, actually.” She glanced at him quickly. “Nothing for you?” He shrugged and gave up on the zipper, brushing the back of his hand over her breasts. The nipples hardened and peaked at once. “I had no more need of that money.” She pulled into the driveway of Jim’s house. “I have your pin.” “It’s yours, for your stable.” “We’ll see.” She got out of the truck as Jim opened the front door of the house. He’d been watching and waiting again. “Hallo, Jim. My friend’s here with me.” She couldn’t prevent a grin from spreading over her face. Quinn stood beside her and she took his arm. “Meet Quincy Lockyer. Quinn, this is Jim Burchitt, who came to my rescue.” The two men greeted each other while she stood back, watching. Quinn towered over Jim, who was a tad under average height. He bent forward to offer his hand to the older man. “Pleased to meet you, my boy,” Jim said gruffly, patting Quinn’s arm. “Been a while since there were young people around here. Welcome.” He took a step back and pointed to the side of the house. “Elaine knows where to take you. Are you hungry? Feel like a beer?” Elaine saw the hopeful look on his face, but hardened her heart. “We’re fine, thanks, Jim. Quinn had quite a journey, so maybe we’ll just go to our room.” Before Jim could add any arguments to make her change her mind, she grabbed hold of Quinn’s hand and dragged him off in the direction of the side wing. “Hey,” he laughed as she thrust open the door of their new quarters. “I thought I was the one who couldn’t wait.” She kicked the door shut and began to take off her clothes again. “Get naked,” she said. “The bed’s waiting.” Quinn pulled his shirt over his head without undoing the buttons. “What about the horses?”

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“The horses are fine. We have more important things to do.” He shucked his trousers. “Maybe we should wait—” he began with a grin, but his erect penis gave the lie to his words. “Not a hope in hell, buster.” Her clothes once again in a heap on the floor, she retrieved the pleasure balls from between the folds of her clothes, then skipped to the bed and ripped back the covers. She quickly inserted the balls then, hands behind her head, she watched him kick his trousers and shirt to one side. He stood for a moment looking at her. His eyes skimmed her bare flesh and he licked his lips. Her heart was already racing, but it increased its tempo even more and a rapid pulse beat in her throat and between her legs. She stretched out her arms. “No teasing,” she said quietly. “Come to me.” When he slid in beside her, she let out a long breath. It was as if his body was a missing part of hers and his presence made her whole. He moved over her and gently began to insert his cock into her wet, waiting pussy, then paused. The tip of his penis nudged the two tiny balls. “You put them in.” “I said we could try. Do you like it?” In answer he pushed her wrists up to her shoulders and grasped them tight. Pressing his lips hard to hers, he edged a fraction deeper into her. She gave a muffled cry. He raised his mouth from hers and began to pull out. “No, no, don’t stop,” she begged. “Go deeper.” He grinned at her and did as she said, making her writhe under him. “Tell me what it’s like,” he murmured. “Do you like it?” he pressed harder and she felt the balls lodge firmly against the walls of her womb. She moved her head from side to side in a frenzy. “It’s wonderful. I’ll burst.” His cock swelled even more inside her, stretching her to the max. She strained to open her legs wider to urge him deeper still. His hands held her wrists captive, his steely thighs pinned her to the bed. His hot eyes watched her as she bit her lip and closed her eyes, allowing the waves of longing to appear naked and explicit on her features. “Is it building inside you?” he asked in a soft voice. “Can you feel it moving up your legs?” She nodded. “Yes.” “Now I think the tremors are coming from your breasts.” He dipped his head to lick her nipple. “All the way down your belly to your cunt. They meet the other from your legs. Your cunt is on fire…” She arched her back and let out a cry as her body obeyed what he told her. Quinn gave a bark of laughter. “That’s right.” He released her wrists and gathered her into his arms, moving his hips to make a space between them. “Take them out now, I want to fill you myself.” 89

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She hooked a finger in the cord of the balls and they slid from her. Immediately Quinn was inside her again. The orgasm seemed to last forever as wave after wave rocked her body, and Quinn climaxed at the same time. They both fell into a deep sleep, limbs entwined. Elaine woke first, roused by a ray of sunlight that hit her full in the face. Quinn lay on his side, one leg over her hips and an arm draped across her breasts. The scars on his back were clearly visible against his smooth skin. She traced one line that went from his shoulder and disappeared around the other side of his waist. He stirred and muttered, then opened his eyes. “I’m still here,” he said. “You’re still here.” “What did you expect?” “I thought it might all have been a dream.” “If you have those kinds of dreams—” He snuggled against her. “Never quite like that.” He kissed her shoulder, moving down to her breast. She stretched in pleasure and opened her legs. He slipped inside her and began a slow gentle rhythm. In calm delight she basked in the silky movement of his penis as it grew, caressing the sensitive walls of her vagina. With never a word, with tenderness and caring, he brought her to climax and savored his own release. She kissed him. “That was lovely.” A door slammed somewhere in the house, noise from outside the door made them both jump. She sat up in the tangle of sheets and reached for her watch on the bedside table. “It’s after seven,” she exclaimed. “The horses…” Naked, she headed for the shower and felt Quinn follow close behind. He moved under the spray with her and soaped her body, rubbing shampoo into her hair, smoothing the strands from her forehead. The frenzy of desire had calmed and his caresses were gentle and full of wonderment—those of a man who cares deeply and seeks to convey his love with no demands or expectations. Star blew air from her nose and tossed her head as Elaine entered the stable. The gelding looked up for a moment and went back to the feed in his trough. “That’s odd. Jim must have been out here already to feed them,” Elaine said as she patted the mare’s neck. “I didn’t expect him to do that.” Quinn grunted and took a handful of feed, rubbing it through his fingers. He ran his hands down the animal’s legs, then turned back to Elaine, who was murmuring soothing words into Star’s ear. “How is she?” He rubbed the mare’s flank. “She’s doing fine, aren’t you, my darling?”

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“Who’s the sire?” “Of the foal? Ah, that’s my ace in the hole. The stud is owned by an old friend of my grandfather. He’s a well-known show jumper. We had big hopes of a prize-winning foal in a few years. Or of selling it based on its bloodline.” “So the mare is valuable because of the foal?” “Yes.” She looked at him as the wheels turned in her head. “What are you saying?” He shrugged. “There just seem to be lots of reasons to make you sell out.” He slapped the gelding’s rump. “I think you’ve eaten enough, old fellah. Let’s get you turned out.” Elaine took Star’s halter and followed him out to the paddock. A half-hour later they walked back toward the house. “They seem settled,” Elaine remarked. “What a relief.” Quinn took her hand. “How long can you keep them here?” “I’m not really sure. I’ll have to go into town later today to make some arrangements to rebuild. Jim is very kind, but I’d like to be back in my own place soon.” “Did you know him before?” “I don’t remember meeting him. He says he was a friend of my grandfather’s.” “It seems your grandfather had some useful friends.” “He did. Thank goodness for the network of horse people.” She looked at him, taking in his old-fashioned outfit. “To change the subject for a moment, we shall have to get you something to wear, even if I do prefer you without clothes.” He gave a mock bow. “At your command, madam.” As they drew closer to Jim’s section of the house, a delicious aroma of bacon and coffee wafted out. Elaine’s stomach growled. “Gosh, I’m famished,” she said. Jim poked his head out of the window. “Breakfast’s ready,” he called. “Jim, you don’t have to feed us as well as every thing else,” she protested. “Nonsense. If you don’t eat it, no one else will. Besides, do you have anything in your kitchen?” She laughed. “No, the cupboards are bare. I’ll have to shop later.” “That settles it. Go wash up and I’ll put on the eggs.” Elaine and Quinn did justice to a huge breakfast and several cups of coffee. Quinn sighed with contentment and sat back, stretching out his legs. “Interesting shirt and trousers you have there,” Jim said. “Don’t think I’ve seen anything in that style around here. Is it the latest fashion?” Quinn gave him a lazy smile. “I suppose it is, in a way.” “So where do you buy something like that?”

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Quinn waved a hand. “I can’t exactly recall. I travel a lot, you know. Everything sort of blends in.” Jim didn’t take the hint. “You seem to travel light. Did something happen to your luggage? Darned airlines lose everything.” Before Quinn could make things worse, Elaine came to the rescue. “We were just talking about that,” she said. “You’re right, Quinn’s luggage got lost somewhere. You know how these things happen. He’ll buy some new things in town.” She stood. She needed to put a stop to all these awkward questions. “I’ll help you clear away and then we must get going. Quinn, I think I left my sweater in the barn. Could you take a look for me?” Quinn opened his mouth to protest that she hadn’t worn a sweater but she waved a dishtowel at him, and he shrugged and disappeared through the door. “Nice young man,” Jim said, up to his elbows in suds. Elaine took a plate from the rack and began to dry it. “I think so.” “How long have you known each other?” She couldn’t tell a direct lie. “Not very long.” Jim turned to her. “Sometimes you don’t need too long.” She smiled and relaxed. “That’s true.” “First time he’s been around these parts?” “Yes, he’s a stranger to Canada.” “Thought so. I heard the accent.” Jim paused to scrape egg from a dish. “So, he was staying with you when the fire broke out—” She waited while he washed the plate, dried it and folded the towel. “We were out riding.” Jim let the water out of the sink and swished a cloth around the surface. “So, if you don’t know him well and the fire started when he was on the property, how do you know he didn’t have something to do with it?” She stared at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Quinn wouldn’t do anything to harm me. He loves me.” “I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just looking at all the possibilities.” She swallowed her anger. Jim was old, a recluse if Jane was correct. Maybe he was one of these people who wove paranoid fantasies because he had nothing better to do. She hung the damp dishtowel on the rail. “Besides, he was away when the house was vandalized…” And he left me his diamond pin, and came back through the mirror, she added in her thoughts. “Orders can be left. Isn’t that how criminals get away with things? Claim they were out of town.”

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She forced herself to be calm. “Jim, I appreciate your concern for me. But you’re wrong, completely wrong.” “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Don’t mind me. I knew your grandfather real well at one time and I want to look out for his granddaughter.” She thought of his kindness to her, his loneliness after the deaths of his wife and son and she felt ashamed at being so upset by him. “No problem, Jim. But I can vouch for Quinn.” Before he could ask any more probing questions or slant any more insinuations against Quinn, she turned and left the kitchen. Quinn and Elaine drove into town each lost in their own thoughts. Elaine’s mind was busy with a mental list of what she had to do. From time to time she glanced at Quinn, on the verge of asking what preoccupied him, but something held her back. Maybe he was regretting his move to her time. Stop it! she told herself. How much proof did she need that he wanted to be with her? At that instant he turned his head toward her and gave her a sunny smile, reaching out to place his hand over hers on the wheel. “Glad I’m with you,” he said. Her heart leapt and her throat grew tight. He might have difficulty reading a book, but he had a gift for looking into the depths of her mind. “Me too.” She pulled into the same parking space she had used the other day in front of the bank. Someone had plastered posters on the windows announcing a giant promotion with great prizes if you opened a new account. She sighed. She was having enough difficulty keeping the one she had. The ATM was in use and as she waited she noticed a newspaper clipping attached to a bulletin board. It had been cut from the center of a page. “New shopping center opens” it proclaimed in bold letters. Under the heading there was a picture of the bank manager, Newsome, cutting a ribbon across a doorway, a large smile on his face. She scooped her money out of the machine. “Just a moment,” she said to Quinn and hurried inside the bank. Jane, the loans officer, had just finished with a customer and Elaine slid into the vacated seat. Jane looked up from the file on her desk. “Hi, Ellie. What’s up?” Her eyes flicked to the doorway and she pursed her lips in a silent whistle. “Is that your new man? You must let me in on your secret.” Elaine turned her head to see Quinn lounging in the doorway, all lithe muscle and hot eyes. He lifted a hand in salute and Jane turned pink. “Oh my,” she said, and cleared her throat. “I guess that means you’re over Jordan.” She made a visible effort to pull herself back to her job. “What can I do for you?” “That report on the board about the shopping center—”

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Jane frowned. “What about it?” “What paper was that in? What day?” Jane continued to look puzzled. “Yesterday, I think. In the Community News. Comes out once a w—” Before she could finish Elaine pushed back the chair. “I know. Thanks. See you, Jane.” She stood and took long steps to the doorway. Grabbing Quinn’s arm, she turned him to the street. “First thing I need to pick up is the local paper.” Quinn looked over his shoulder and touched a hand to his brow, signaling goodbye to Jane, who quickly buried her red face in her file. They picked up a copy of the paper at the convenience store and then paid a visit to a clothing store that sold jeans and work shirts. Quinn picked out a couple of pairs of pants, and tried them on with a pair of shoes while Elaine scooped socks and underwear. When he emerged from the fitting room her mouth went dry. The denim hugged his hips and the blue of the shirt turned his eyes to dark pools, like water under the Mediterranean sun. He came to stand beside her. “Will I do?” he murmured in her ear. A throb started low in her belly. “You’ll do,” she whispered. Back in the truck she flipped through the newspaper until she came to the shopping center report. It was the usual bland article, of interest to no one except the developer. Her eye stopped on the name. “Part of a major project by Denman Development” it said. She let out a long breath. Denman, who wanted her land, the bank manager, who was buying parcels, expansion in the area. It began to make sense. Quinn broke into her thoughts. “Is there a feed store around?” “Of course. But why?” He dove into the bag containing his old clothes and stuck his hand in a pocket, pulling out a handful of feed. “I’d just like someone to take a look at these pellets.” With his index finger he pushed a couple of tiny brown balls to one side. “Do you know what they are?” She shook her head. “I have no idea. Where did they come from?” “They were on the floor in the stall this morning. None in the trough. Either the animals had eaten them, or they were used for some other horses.” She frowned. “Jim has no other horses. Who would give my animals something without asking me?” “Is there anyone who could tell us what they are? Oats and grain I know, but you have so many new things.” “They’re new to me too. Let me think.” She put the car in gear. “The owner of the feed store knows me. I buy all my supplies there. Let’s try.”

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The feed store manager couldn’t identify the pellets either and sent them along to the vet’s office. The vet was busy with a dog who had been hit by a car, but he took a moment to look at the handful of feed and shake his head. “I’ll keep them and send them to the lab,” he said. “But I’ll have to charge you the fee. Check back in a couple of days.” Outside, Elaine stopped on the sidewalk and took Quinn’s forearm. “Let’s stop a minute.” Obediently, he halted beside her. “I don’t understand why you’re so worried about the feed.” He thrust his hands in his pockets. “We had a gamekeeper once who slipped opium to the horses. Just enough so they lost every steeplechase for six months and were sold at a rock-bottom price.” “Why?” “A neighbor of my father’s was also a breeder. Our horses were beating his, his stock was going down. Couldn’t get a decent fee for stud.” “How did you find out?” “We didn’t really. Except that the new owners of our animals started to win. They were out of our county by then of course and it didn’t matter to our neighbor. They were all in a conspiracy to ruin our reputation.” “How did you know it was the gamekeeper?” Quinn raised a hand into a fist. “He and I had a little chat.” “But what does that have to do with my horses? With the gelding and Star?” “Let’s say I have a suspicious nature. The horses were already feeding when we arrived. Jim was a good friend of your grandfather?” “That’s what he said.” “So, is that why he’s being so kind?” She frowned. “I heard he was lonely since his wife and son died.” “So he takes in an unknown couple and two extra horses.” She looked at him. “What are you trying to say?” “Just an observation, maybe a cynical one. He doesn’t seem the kind of man who would make impulsive decisions.” “No,” she said slowly. “He doesn’t.” They turned and began to walk back to the truck. Elaine slipped the key into the door lock and paused. “It might not be Jim.” “How’s that?” “I didn’t ask him if he’d fed the horses. Maybe someone else came in early.” Quinn opened the door. “Then we’ll ask him.”

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Chapter Nine “Who fed the horses this morning, Jim?” Jim looked at her and set down the bottle of window spray. He’d been polishing the sparkling panes when they arrived. Two days ago, Elaine would have believed he was watching for them because they were welcome guests, relieving his loneliness. Now she was not so sure. Although if he had fed the animals something unpleasant she still could not figure out his motive. A puzzled frown creased Jim’s brow. “What do you mean? Didn’t you do it?” She could hear Quinn calling to the animals in the paddock and the soft whicker of an answer. “When Quinn and I went out to the stable this morning, they were already finished eating. I thought you must have gone out early to feed them.” “No, I don’t have any feed. You brought some with you, didn’t you?” “Yes. But they were given something different.” “I don’t understand.” She explained about the mysterious pellets. “The vet will get us an analysis.” Jim shook his head. “That’s terrible. Who would do that?” “Probably the same people who burned my barn and vandalized my house. I thought the horses would be safe here—” “They are, they are.” Jim polished a smear from the corner of the windowpane. “But we could keep watch. Take it in turns. Oh dear, this is terrible,” he repeated. “I just wanted to help you and now it looks as if I’ve made it worse…” Quinn came into the room and caught the last words. “The animals seem fine,” he said. “They ate an apple and two carrots each and look frisky enough. Maybe it was just something to scare us.” “You mean it might be something harmless, like a nutrition supplement?” “Possible.” “But why do it at all?” Elaine said slowly. “There was no guarantee we would see the foreign pellets. And why not just mix it in with the feed and let us dish it out to them?” “Because maybe we would have seen them first and not used the feed. This way, we don’t know if the horses have ingested something dangerous or not. They wanted to cause you the worry.” She sighed heavily. “They’ve done that.”

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“I’ll keep watch outside tonight,” Quinn said. “Although they most likely won’t be back. They’ve done their work, whatever it was.” “I’ll spell you,” Jim said quickly. “I feel responsible…” Elaine laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Jim. We’ll work it out between us. You need your rest.” “Then let me make dinner.” She glanced at Quinn. “Fine. Thank you. That would be a great help.” She glanced out the window at the bags in the back of the pickup. “I’ll put the groceries away, then we can go for a ride. The horses need a run.” She stowed the few food purchases in the refrigerator and on the shelves. “I don’t think Jim had anything to do with the feed business,” she called, thinking Quinn was in the other room, then turned to find him behind her. “What makes you so sure?” he asked. She could never resist touching him, linking her body to his, and laced her hands behind his neck, frowning as she thought it over. “No proof of course. But he looked genuinely shocked when I told him. Would he have gone to the trouble to get feed and doctor it in the short time we’ve been here? I find it hard to believe that he would try to harm the horses.” “You sound convinced.” “Aren’t you?” “You’re probably right.” He pulled her tight against him and she felt the hardness of his erection through the denim of his new jeans. “Forget that for a moment,” he said. “There’s a more urgent problem. The horses aren’t the only ones that need exercise.” She smiled against his mouth. “You are insatiable,” she said and finished the words with a kiss. “You’re absolutely correct, and what will you do about it?” In answer, she lowered her hands to his belt and undid the buckle. She continued to undress him while his hands wandered over her back and her breasts. “We don’t need the bedroom,” he murmured in her ear and pulled her T-shirt over her head. Taking hold of her hips, he lifted her onto the table. “Lie back,” he ordered. She settled so her whole body as far as her knees lay on the hard surface while Quinn held her legs. He undid the button and zipper of her light cotton pants and creamy moisture bathed the crotch of her panties. She lifted her hips so he could slide the trousers from her and he brushed light fingers over the lacy covering that shielded her mound. “I want to tear them off you.” He eased himself between her spread legs, holding them apart with tensed thighs. She swallowed against a dry throat, her heart pounding in her ears. “Do it.”

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He slipped a finger under the elastic and rubbed her belly. She gasped and stiffened, making him smile in satisfaction. With both hands, he gripped the lace and ripped it in a swift movement. She felt cooler air caress her dampness until his warm body pressed against her. He held her hips and pulled himself against her, his hardness seeking the warm softness of her vagina. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her cunt to meet him. Every time he entered her, it was like a new beginning. Every time she felt his warm hardness stretch her and fill her, it was as heartbreaking as the first time. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to shout out her joy. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. “Hey, what’s this?” Quinn wiped it away with his thumb, all the time pressing deeper inside her. She smiled mistily at him. “I’m happy and I’m upset and I’m afraid. Just a mixedup girl.” “I hate to see you cry.” He licked another tear from her cheek with the tip of his tongue. “Let me see if I can make you any happier and help you forget your worries for a moment.” Firmly wedged into her, his steely thighs pressing her legs even wider open, he touched her exposed clit with the tip of one finger. It was a butterfly caress, but it sent shards of an icy-hot thrill along every nerve in her body. Her nipples ached, her lips twisted as if from shock and she let out a groan. Pinned to the table, she closed her eyes and gave herself entirely over to the thousand and one sensations he produced. The heat rose in her belly, snaking along the lines of her tingling nerves. At last she stiffened as the storm engulfed her. Quinn watched her as he brought her and himself to a gut-wrenching climax. He squeezed the cheeks of her ass in both hands and sealed her screaming mouth with a kiss. When he drew out of her, she sat up, still trembling. He took her arm and helped her to stand on shaky legs. She kissed his nipple, licking the salt from his skin. “Don’t we have things to do?” she said. “Tell me what, because I can’t think for myself. You’ve eaten my brain, possessed my soul.” He kissed the top of her head. “My second pleasure in life,” he whispered. “We’re going riding.” “Oh yes, I have horses, don’t I?” She smiled at him and stretched her arms above her head. He bent to nuzzle her nipples as her breasts flattened and spread. “Oh God,” she groaned. “Don’t start me off again.” “Could I?”

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The tip of his tongue circled, tracing her areola. She clasped the back of his head and held him to her breast. “You know you could.” He released her. “That’s good to know. Very good to know.” He turned her away from him and slapped her behind. “Get going, woman. A different kind of riding lesson is coming right now.” They dressed quickly and Elaine pulled on riding boots. “We should have bought you some proper boots,” she said, watching him stuff his feet into sneakers. “Not needed for casual riding. I often rode barefoot.” He looked at her a second. “Bare arse too. Have you ever done it on a horse?” “No.” “Something else to teach you. Although you really need a nice, smooth English saddle. But you’ve had enough fucking for now, my lady. I don’t want you to grow satiated.” She pulled on gloves. “Never. Not if I live to a hundred.” “Promise?” “Promise.” They emerged from their quarters into full sunlight. Jim was standing on the porch of his house talking to a tall, gray-haired man in a business suit. Despite the warmth the visitor looked cool and collected. A dark blue Jaguar stood in the driveway. Jim turned when he heard them and waved them over. “There you are at last,” he said. “Been taking a nap?” Elaine felt her face flush. “Just talking things over.” “Well, this gentleman,” he waved his hand at his companion, “came all the way from Victoria to see you.” “Really?” Elaine stepped forward and offered her hand. She remembered the insurance agent talking about an assessor. “Are you something to do with the insurance?” The man took her hand. His was dry and cool and she felt a light pressure of his fingers. “No, not insurance, Ms. Christie. My name is Denman, Bob Denman.” Elaine snatched her hand away from his clasp. Denman the developer! “You’re wasting your time, Mr. Denman. I don’t care what you do, I’m not selling.” He waved to the chairs on the porch. “Please, can we sit?” His voice was low and courteous, his face calm. Elaine hesitated and Quinn stepped forward. “Quincy Lockyer,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Ms. Christie’s advisor. We can talk for a minute or two.” “Excellent, excellent.” Denman moved toward the chairs and Quinn took Elaine’s arm. “We have a few minutes to spare,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s see what he wants.”

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“Can I get you anything?” Jim said. “Iced tea, beer?” They all shook their heads, murmuring polite refusals. Jim stood in indecision for a long moment, then turned into the house. “What is it you want, Mr. Denman?” Elaine’s voice was ice-cold. “How did you find me?” Denman sat back and crossed his ankles, revealing silk socks beneath his welltailored summer suit. Elaine noticed the shine on his classic shoes. I bet he never rode barefoot, she thought, or bare arse. The idea made her lips twitch and Denman obviously took it as a sign of acceptance. “I drove out today because I’ve heard of the problems you’ve been having, Ms… May I call you Elaine?” She remained silent. She didn’t care what he called her, she just wanted this over with. Again he seemed to assume she was thawing toward him because he smiled. “I know that I’ve made an offer on your land, a very generous offer—” He held up a hand as she began to speak. “Just let me finish. I would very much like to develop your property, but contrary to what you may think, I haven’t reached where I am with criminal and underhanded dealings. I treat people well, as I would like to be treated. I’ve come to tell you that if my representative made any remarks that sounded like threats, it was without my authority. “I negotiate hard, but never threaten and never damage property. I have a solid reputation and I treasure it.” He paused as if waiting for her to speak. She searched for words. Quinn broke the silence. “You must admit it didn’t look good, the fire and the vandalism right after your man’s visit?” Denman looked startled. “Vandalism? I know about the fire, but—” In a few words, Quinn painted a picture of what had been done to the house. “That settles it,” Denman said. “I withdraw my offer.” “You what?” “There is obviously something going on here that you have to sort out, Elaine. You must get to the bottom of it. I do not wish my good name associated with these kinds of dealings. If at some future date you decide to sell, contact me.” He drew a silver case from his pocket and extracted a business card. “This is my private number.” He jotted it down with a matching silver pen and held the card out to her. She took it as if in a dream. “Of course, I would still like the property,” he continued. “But if and when you are ready to sell with no coercion.” He got to his feet and held out his hand again to her and then to Quinn. “Believe it or not,” he said, “I wish you well. If you decide to start again somewhere else I’ll be happy to help you find a suitable piece of land.” He turned and walked smartly down the porch steps to his car. 100

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“Do you believe that?” Elaine said at last as the car purred away. “Maybe, maybe not,” Quinn answered. “There are honest businessmen around, I suppose.” “I suppose.” She wasn’t convinced. Batt had pushed very hard to get her to sell. Would he have done that without his boss’s knowledge? “Maybe Batt went too far. It might be that he just wants to lie low for a while.” “Anything is possible.” They walked toward the paddock. There was no sign of Jim. “Before we leave let’s stow the rest of your feed somewhere safe,” Quinn said. Four large bags of feed, still securely closed, were stacked in one of the empty stalls. The fifth bag, from which they had taken feed last night, gaped open. The door of a storage room stood ajar, a padlock dangling from the hasp of the bolt. Elaine peered in. “This would do.” Together they lugged the four closed bags into the small room and locked the door. The key was on a long string and Quinn looped it over his neck. Although it was unlikely someone would try the same trick twice, Elaine felt immensely relieved. They walked to the horses. As Quinn had said, they both seemed fine. Elaine ran her hand over Star’s flank. The mare had a few weeks to go before she foaled, but it wasn’t worth taking any chances. “I’ll take it very easy with her,” she said. “I’ll ride bareback, in case the girth is getting too tight. Then I’ll walk her.” Quinn saddled up and Elaine slipped the bridle over Star’s head. They mounted and waved goodbye to Jim, who was weeding one of the flowerbeds. They took a wellused trail that was not too steep, not wanting to tax the animals, especially Star, after the stress they had suffered. Looking up, Elaine saw the gossamer outline of the moon hanging in the blue sky. A large sliver had gone from its side. The solstice was over, the moon no longer full. But Quinn rode at her side, his knee close to her thigh. She could feel the electric charge between them, the current that passed whenever he came close. It was a beautiful day, the sun was warm but the air pleasantly cool. A few flies came to bother the horses, who whisked their tails. They rode through dappled shade until they came to a low ridge bordering a green valley. A house nestled on the slopes, shining white in the sun, surrounded by a mown expanse of grass. It looked comfortable in its setting, as if it had been there for many years. Quinn reached out a hand and touched her wrist. “Penny for them,” he said. She reined in and sat for a moment, patting the mare’s neck. “It doesn’t seem as if Denman was behind the fire and the break-in. So maybe the bank manager is clean too. Jim wasn’t responsible for the problem with the feed. So who has been doing this and why?”

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Quinn shifted in the saddle. “People can lie,” he said. “But if it wasn’t Denman or Jim, then you have to search your past for someone else who wants to ruin you.” She looked at him in bewilderment. “Ruin me? I don’t have any enemies.” “We all have enemies, my love. But most of them just think angry thoughts and don’t do anything unless there’s a heaven-sent opportunity.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. My grandfather was so well-liked and I’ve never had a problem with anyone.” “Ah yes, your grandfather’s network of friends. You might start there. My uncle had a best friend who offered support and advice, and even money. Except the advice was not so good. Turned out the ‘friend’ was being paid by someone else who wanted my uncle’s property. My uncle and his friend had quarreled once and patched things up. Uncle Tom thought it was all over, but his friend bore a grudge that festered and grew worse over the years.” She shivered. “That’s horrible, to think someone you trusted would lie and cheat like that.” “True, but it happens.” “I just want to be settled again. Tomorrow I’ll check with the insurance and try to get a crew to start clearing the debris of the stable and clean up the house.” “Do you still want to stay with Jim?” She considered for a moment. “I don’t see why not for a few days. I don’t think he’s the culprit. It’s a great place for horses. If I use the insurance money to go to a hotel, it means I have to travel back and forth several times a day.” Quinn nodded. “There’s a woman down there at the house waving at us. I think she wants us to go down.” Elaine shielded her eyes and waved back. “Maybe she needs something. Let’s see.” They rode down the gentle slope to the house. The woman waiting for them was tall and thin, her hair pinned back in a neat bun. She wore a long apron over a flowered blouse and gray slacks. As they grew close Elaine saw rosy cheeks and twinkling blue eyes. “I’m so glad to see you,” the woman said. “Thank you for coming.” Quinn reined in and touched his forelock in a sweetly old-fashioned gesture. “What can we do for you, madam?” “It’s this.” She lifted her arm and Elaine saw a plaster cast encasing her forearm. “I can do most things, but I can’t lift anything heavy. I wonder if you’d give me a hand with something in the house?” “Of course.” “Thank you so much. Come this way.” She unlatched a gate in the fence and stood aside to let them pass, fastening the gate behind them. They let the horses amble along the trail that led to the house while the woman walked beside them. “My name’s Mary Richardson,” she said and gave them each her good hand. 102

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“I’m Elaine Christie and this is my friend Quinn Lockyer.” Elaine and Quinn slid from their horses as they reached the steps to the house and looped their reins over a rail. Mary led them around the open porch to the back door. “I was trying to put some things away on the top shelf of the cupboard and it all got away from me.” A large cardboard box lay on the kitchen floor with books and albums spilling from it in a tide. Photographs and packages lay in heaps where they had tumbled when the box fell. A chair lay on its side close to the pile. “I got up on the chair with the box, but it slipped out of my arms. I’d be really grateful if you could help me gather them up and put it back up there.” She indicated a row of cupboards built up to the ceiling. “Goodness, did you hurt yourself?” “Just a bruise.” Mary rubbed her hip. “I guess I was lucky.” “Well, I think you should sit down and take it easy if you had a fall. Can I make you some tea?” “That would be lovely, dear. The pot and the kettle are by the stove.” Mary sank into a chair at the table with an audible groan. “Should you see a doctor?” “No. I’m fine. A nice cup of tea will set me to rights.” While Elaine busied herself with the tea, Quinn stooped and began to gather up the pictures and the papers. “Do you live on your own?” Elaine asked. “Oh my, yes. Been on my own for nearly twenty years. Never had a problem until I tripped on the top step two weeks ago. Had to call someone to take me into town.” Elaine poured hot water on the tea bags. “Let it brew, I like it strong,” Mary instructed. “So, what are you doing in these parts? Haven’t seen you or your horses before.” “I’m using Jim Burchitt’s stable for a few days while my place is being fixed up.” Mary eyed her with curiosity. “Where’s your place?” she asked bluntly. Elaine told her. “You’re Dan Christie’s granddaughter! How about that! We were at school together.” Elaine caught Quinn’s eye and saw the quiver of mirth on his lips. Another one of her grandfather’s network. “You weren’t brought up here,” Mary said, almost accusingly. “No, I wasn’t. I moved here about five years ago.”

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She saw Quinn scoop the last of the photos from the floor and pat them into a neat pile. He dropped them into the box and climbed on the chair, reaching the cupboard easily and giving Elaine the chance to admire the set of his hips as they rose above her. Mary caught her looking and gave her a wink. Elaine dropped her eyes in confusion. Was her lust for Quinn so obvious? They drank a cup of tea with Mary, who chatted all the time about the area and the people she knew. When they rose to leave she picked up an envelope from a fruit bowl. “Could I ask you to put this in the post for me?” she said. “No problem.” Elaine slipped the letter into her jacket pocket. “Now, you take care, Mrs. Richardson. No more climbing.” Mary got to her feet. “No, I know. It was just that I wanted to check one photograph. Silly, really, keeping them in that big box, so high up.” She walked with them to where the horses waited. “Nice-looking animals,” she said. “Thank you.” Mary turned to Quinn. “Come by any time,” she said. Elaine smiled. There was an almost flirtatious look on the old lady’s face. But who could blame her? Quinn was enough to stir the heart of any female who had breath in her body. He bent courteously from the waist and brushed a kiss on Mary’s cheek. “I’ll stop by again and see if you need anything.” “Oh my!” Mary’s hand went to her cheek and her color heightened. “I’ll watch out for you.” They jogged along the path and paused to wave to Mary before they climbed the slope. “You made a conquest,” Elaine said. “Nice old lady. Reminded me of a cook we had once. She used to let me play with the dough left over from making the pies.” Even an innocent remark like this reminded Elaine of what she’d gleaned of Quinn’s childhood. She could picture a sad, lonely little boy taking refuge from his demanding, cold father with a kindly cook. They groomed the horses when they returned and gave them feed from the secured sacks. Quinn spent some time with Star. “When did you say she’s due to foal?” he asked. “Should be another three weeks at least. I figure this will be the last ride for her. She’s been taking it easy for a while now, only been taking a couple of the children for a gentle walk.” He touched the mare’s teats gently. “I think you may be a week or so off. Her udders are filling and look—” He showed drops of milk on the tips of his fingers. “This is her first?” “Yes.” 104

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“Harder to tell in that case. It could be another couple of weeks.” “I hope so. I’d like a bit more time.” Quinn fell silent, hardly uttering another word as they worked, a small frown on his face, although he smiled at her when he caught her eye and touched her arm or her shoulder as he passed so that she could feel the affection transmitted between them. She knew him well enough by now to understand that he liked to reason things through, so whatever was bothering him would come out soon enough. Doubtless he was mulling over the escapades of another gamekeeper or malicious neighbor and would tell her his thoughts soon enough. At least she wasn’t immediately jumping to the conclusion that he regretted his trip back through the mirror. That was progress. By the time they secured the stable and walked back to the house, he still hadn’t said anything. Jim was waiting for them, as usual. “Have a good ride?” “Very nice, thanks.” “See anyone on the trail?” Quinn cut Elaine off before she could get the words out. “It’s very quiet up there. No one around.” She glanced at him, but his face had the bland neutrality she’d seen before. With good reason, he was skilled at hiding his feelings when he had to. “Uh-huh.” Jim nodded. “Dinner at seven okay for you?” “Sounds good.” She took Quinn’s hand. “Do you mind if I use your phone, Jim? I need to cancel a couple of things.” Jim waved his hand to the doorway and stood aside. “Be my guest. A pleasure to be of assistance.” Still holding Quinn’s hand, Elaine led him to the phone in Jim’s sparkling kitchen. A delicious aroma filled the air and she sniffed appreciatively. “Beef stew,” Jim announced. “One of my wife’s favorite recipes.” “Can’t wait.” She let go of Quinn’s hand and dialed Maggie’s number. Her friend picked up on the second ring. “Elaine Christie, what on earth are you up to? What’s been going on?” Quickly Elaine gave her the gist of the events of the last day, leaving out Quinn’s passage through the mirror. “Ugh!” Elaine could feel Maggie’s disgust through the phone line. “Pigs!” “You said it.” “Are the horses okay? “They seem to be fine. Two have been reclaimed by the owners, can’t say I blame them. So there won’t be any riding lessons for the children for a few weeks.”

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“Hey, don’t sweat it. I can wait ‘til you get back on your feet. Glad to know the insurance will come through.” “It’s a huge relief.” “Are you alone out there?” “Jim Burchitt’s here all the time—” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jim give her the thumbs-up. “No one else?” Maggie’s voice took on a teasing note. “Come on, ‘fess up. I’ve heard about your mysterious visitor.” “News travels fast.” “Sure does.” Maggie’s voice dropped. “Have you tried any of my toys? Guaranteed to take your mind off your troubles.” “Maggie!!” “I take that as a yes.” She paused. “Oh, don’t tell me they all got destroyed!” Elaine thought of the pleasure balls. “Mostly, but not all.” “Okay, we have to look after your physical well-being. Let’s go through the list and you can tell me what you want.” Elaine turned her back to Jim, who was reading a newspaper but hadn’t turned a page in the last five minutes. She hunched over the phone, which brought her closer to Quinn. He put an arm around her and she leaned against him. The warmth of his body, the strength of him, the faint scent of horse and hay and fresh air was more intoxicating than the finest brandy. The faint stubble on his cheek brushed her lips. A rush of desire washed over her, making her knees weak and setting butterflies fluttering in her abdomen. If they’d been alone she would have hung up the phone and dragged him to the floor. Drunk with the headiness of her emotions, she took a deep breath. “Send me whatever you have,” she said in a rush. “I want them all.” “Hey, girlfriend. Way to go. You’ve got it. I must get to see this hunk.” “Soon.” Elaine hung up the phone, her hand trembling slightly at the thought of how she’d given herself away. She didn’t care. Quinn looked down at her and touched her mouth with the tip of his finger. She thought she would faint. “Is she sending what I think she’s sending?” he said in a low voice so Jim couldn’t hear. She nodded, unable to speak. His penis, trapped in the stiff denim, stirred against her side. Moisture flowed from her vagina in response and the slow ache began. “Time to wash up,” Jim called. “Dinner in ten minutes.”

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Chapter Ten The ride had given them both a good appetite and they did justice to dinner, which tasted as good as it smelled. “Your wife must have been a good cook,” Elaine said while Quinn helped himself to more potatoes. “The best. Always winning prizes for her pies and preserves.” Jim pushed a dish of peas and carrots across the table toward her. “Help yourself.” “Thanks.” She paused to chase a rolling pea. “Don’t you have any family at all around here?” “Just a niece somewhere, but I don’t see much of her.” He looked at Quinn to include him in the chat. “These modern young women, you know. They all have jobs and careers these days. Running around like fleas in a colander, as my mother used to say.” Quinn gave a noncommittal nod, his mouth full. After dessert, Elaine stood before Jim could begin to clear away. “No arguments, tonight. I’ll do the dishes.” To her surprise, Jim gave in gracefully. “I’ve done all the pans,” he said. “Thanks for your help.” He sank into his big chair. “My wife always wanted a dishwasher, but I never saw the use of it, until I had to do it all myself. Now I wish I had made life a bit easier for her.” Moved by the sadness on his face, Elaine patted his shoulder then busied herself stacking plates. Quinn helped her clear, but Jim’s presence and his memories cast a pall on the room. They worked in silence, not touching. When Elaine let the rinsing water go and hung up the damp dishtowel, she turned to Jim, wiping her hands on a dry cloth. “Would you by any chance have a couple of sleeping bags around?” “I think there’s a couple stashed away somewhere. Why?” “Quinn and I will keep watch in the stable tonight.” She saw Quinn’s quick glance from the corner of her eye, but he said nothing. “Do you think it’s necessary?” Jim hauled himself from his chair. “I don’t think anyone will come back.” “I’d rather be sure,” Elaine said firmly. “The horses have been through enough and I want to stay close.” “I think I can put my hands on the bags. Wait a moment.”

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He left the kitchen and Quinn immediately grabbed Elaine in his arms. “I was going to keep watch,” he said. “You don’t need to be there.” “And miss doing it in a stable? You’ve got to be kidding.” She kissed his cheek. “Fair go for everyone. In a bed for you, in a stable for me.” Jim came back into the room, his arms full of two bundles. “Here you go, kids. These should do you.” Elaine figured they still had about an hour of light as they carried their sleeping bags and a flashlight to the stable. Back when Jim had horses he’d used straw for bedding and Elaine hadn’t brought any wood shavings with her. Quinn broke open a couple more bales and spread the bedding thickly in a clean corner. Fortunately the stable was dry and airy and the straw still seemed in good condition. The air was warm, so he unzipped the bags, laying one on the straw and keeping the other for a cover. Then he closed the door, shutting out most of the remaining light. Dust motes danced in the faint beams that penetrated the wooden walls. The horses turned their heads, watching them with curiosity. Elaine went to Star and ran her hands over the mare’s swollen belly. “Not long now,” she whispered, and the horse flicked her ears. The stable smelled of hay, warm horse and old leather, the best scents in the world. That, plus Quinn to sleep by her side. She sighed with satisfaction. When she thought about it, she was amazed at herself. Mere weeks ago she was worried sick about her business and her finances. Now the situation was worse, but her anxiety was less and she faced the future with confidence and optimism. Because of Quinn. She couldn’t live without him. Turning away from the horse stall, she saw the sun had dipped low in the sky and the mellow light shone through a window behind him, outlining his head and shoulders, throwing his face and body into shadow. The shape of his hips and legs were no more than suggestions of length and muscle, as in an impressionist painting. Colors faded with the day. Despite the waning light she caught the glitter of his eyes as he leaned against the wall, and knew he was watching her. Her heartbeat notched up as usual. “I love the way you move,” he said. “I could watch you all day, except I have other plans for you.” The rhythmic pulse started below her waist and her breathing grew shallow. She saw the glint from his teeth as he smiled. “You’re the expert on sex in a stable,” she said in a low voice that caught in her throat. “What would you like?” “I’d like to watch you take your clothes off for me.” “You can barely see me.”

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“Oh, yes, I can. I’ve had lots of practice hunting in the dark. My night vision is excellent.” Keeping her eyes on him as her own vision adjusted to the dim light, she pulled her T-shirt from her jeans. She, who had never even been comfortable in the changing rooms of local swimming pools, remembered the scenes from The Sopranos series where the dancers in the mob’s club had moved and gyrated, their breasts swinging, their arms and hands stretched out in invitation. Totally out of character for her to be inspired by such images, yet she felt her hips begin to move in a primeval cadence as she tugged her shirt over her head, then swung it around and threw it at Quinn. It slithered down his face and he caught it in both hands, holding it to his nose and inhaling deeply. Emboldened, she sashayed around in the confined space and began to hum a tune with a persistent beat. She turned and gave him a glimpse of her gyrating behind in the tight jeans as she unhooked her bra. Facing him again, she let the straps fall from her shoulders and the lace slide from her breasts. The bra followed the shirt. She eased her shoes from her feet. Topless, she swayed for a few moments to the rhythm she sang under her breath, then unhooked the button at the waist of her jeans. Slowly, so slowly, she inched the fabric down until her lace panties came into view. The jeans slid smoothly downward and she stepped out of them. She drew closer to Quinn and saw the flush of color on his cheekbones, the hot luster of his eyes, the tightness of his jaw. He reached for her and she stepped away, shaking her head. God, she was loving this. Teasing, promising, approaching, retreating. She hoped he was aroused as she. The panties were soaked and the throb in her abdomen had crept to the lips of her swollen vulva. With two fingers she eased the panties down past her hips. Hadn’t there been a thong in the stuff Maggie had given her? Through a pink mist and the sound of her pounding heart, she resolved to find another and wear it. At last she could prolong the striptease no longer. She flung the panties from her with an impatient flick of her foot and stood naked before him. “Am I allowed to touch now?” His voice was thick. She held back, just beyond his reach, and pretended to consider. “I think not,” she said. “It’s my turn to watch.” She sank down on the straw bed and linked her hands behind her head, crooking one leg, knowing her breasts would rise and point at him with temptation. She saw his eyes flicker as he followed the movement. “My God, woman, you deserve a sound spanking, tease that you are.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting.

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He did not imitate her slow peeling, but ripped off his clothes, slinging them haphazardly onto the floor as they came free. When he was naked, he came to stand over her. His erection jutted hard and strong from the nest of dark curls at the top of his thighs. As she watched, it quivered and grew. A tiny bead of liquid appeared at the tip. She had never known that she could have such an effect on a man. She ran her hand up his leg and saw the shiver of the muscles under his skin at her feather touch. Reaching up, she lightly brushed his balls with the back of her fingers. He gave a muffled groan and knelt down beside her, slipping his arms under her. As he lifted her, she held his face between her palms and kissed him long and deep. He lifted her more and she suddenly felt a slap on her buttocks. “Ouch!” Not truly painful, the sting zigzagged along her nerves, jolting down through her belly down to her wet opening. He gathered her closer and covered her eyes, her cheeks, her hair with kisses. “I couldn’t hurt you,” he murmured. No, beatings for him were too real. He wouldn’t inflict any such thing on another. She kissed him back, wanting to merge completely with him—become one breathing, pleasure-racked entity. With one mind, they slid down onto the straw and she opened her legs. His stiff cock edged into her until it was seated deep, deep inside. She could not tell where his body began and hers ended. “I love you,” she whispered. She slept in Quinn’s arms, warmly snuggled into the straw and the blankets until she felt him pull away and roll off her. She murmured sleepily and reached for him, but encountered empty space. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Quinn’s shape was a blacker mass in the darkness. “What is it?” He came closer, fastening his shirt. “I think it’s Star,” he whispered. In the silence she could hear stamping from the horse stalls and a scrambling sound. “She’s restless. I’m going to check.” He moved away, melting into the shadows. Immediately she flung the covers from her and reached for the flashlight. With the light from the solitary beam, she scrambled for her clothes. Within seconds she was dressed and making her way to the light switch by the door. Two low-watt bulbs came to life and revealed Quinn in the mare’s stall. The horse had defecated several times and stood tense, her upper lip curled. Elaine hurried to Quinn’s side, narrowly avoiding Star’s swishing tail. Her watch said four-thirty. “Let’s put her next door.” Quinn’s voice was calm but firm. The neighboring stall was clean and Elaine quickly spread fresh straw. Quinn turned the mare to lead her into the new area, speaking gently to her in a low, soothing voice. As Star moved out of the first stall, her waters broke in a gush of fluid.

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By the time she was in her new quarters, tiny hooves were visible at the opening of the birth canal. Quinn patted her neck and came to stand next to Elaine. He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Not much we can do,” he said, “except wait.” With a loud expulsion of breath through her nostrils, Star lay down on the straw and more of the foal appeared. One small leg emerged straight and a second followed, bent. Then a head was visible between the legs, looking for all the world like a miniature diver. Gradually over the next ten minutes, the foal slid from its mother’s body, still encased in the amniotic sac, its lower legs still hidden. Elaine held her breath on a sob. These few minutes were necessary to complete the transfer of blood from the placenta so the new baby could be totally independent. At last the tiny foal began to move and tore the restraining sac as it lifted its head. It struggled to raise itself on its shaky front legs and eventually succeeded, pulling its rear quarters from its mother. Star raised her head and turned to watch as her newborn tried to stand. Within a few minutes, the foal stood, legs splayed and Star got to her feet. She nuzzled the baby and began to lick it clean. Elaine wiped tears from her cheeks and turned to hold Quinn. “It’s a miracle,” she said. “Every time.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll make some warm mash. She’ll want water too.” By the time the sun rose, the foal had taken its first drink, Star had eaten and the stalls were clean and shipshape. As soon as Jim appeared, Elaine hurried to tell him the news. “I’m so grateful that we were here,” she said. “You can’t know what it means to me to know that Star and her colt are somewhere safe and dry. But I’m going into town this morning to arrange for my house cleanup and to start the rebuilding.” “I understand completely,” Jim answered. “I’d do the same myself. What are you going to call the new fellow?” “Diamond Stud,” Elaine said quickly. The trip to town went well. The insurance company made no problems about sending a cleanup crew and gave her the name of the company they would deal with for rebuilding the barn. She ran into Jane as she left the insurance office. “How’s it going?” Jane asked. Elaine told her about the cleanup and the new colt. “Sounds as if things are under control.” “So far. But I’m still going to have to work at building up the business. The insurance company can’t manufacture customers for me.”

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“Right. But you have some help.” Jane pushed back her hair. “You’ve got that new guy. He going to be around for a while?” “Quinn? Yes, he’ll be around.” The words were like a warm blanket settling around her heart. She felt a sudden stab of remorse at being so wrapped up in herself. “What about you, Janey? How are things?” Jane’s lip twisted in a bitter smile. “No such luck. Still on my own.” Elaine searched for words. “That’s too bad,” she said weakly. Years ago, before they were married, she and Jordan had come to town for a visit one summer and had double dated a couple of times with Jane and a fellow named Clint, but Clint had soon disappeared. Jane had gone out with a couple of other guys over the years, but nothing had grown serious. Jordan had said Jane was too intense and scared off any potential boyfriend. “She doesn’t give a guy any breathing space,” he’d said. It was always difficult to see your friends through a man’s eyes. She’d felt a twinge of guilt about her own happiness with Jordan and now Jane was still alone and she had Quinn. It didn’t seem fair. She touched Jane’s arm. “There’ll be someone,” she said. “Look at me, I never thought—” Jane shrugged off her hand. “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy your new catch. My break is over.” Abruptly she turned and strode back toward the bank. Elaine watched her disappear through the glass doors and sighed. She felt sorry for Jane, so obviously needy, but her own happiness bubbled up as if from a bottomless spring. She couldn’t feel down for long with a new foal, a healthy mare and a lusty lover waiting for her. She mailed Mary’s letter, made a few purchases and began to walk back to the parking lot where she’d left the pickup. As she was about to cross the street a horn beeped and she turned to see Maggie waving from her red convertible. “Just the one I want to see,” Maggie said. “Here.” She pulled a box from the passenger seat and thrust it at Elaine. “Enjoy.” “What—?” “The toys you wanted. I picked up a few different things you might like.” “Thank you. I didn’t expect—” “Hey, you have to seize the moment. You wanted some toys, you got some toys.” “Right. Thanks, Maggie. How much do I owe you?” “Don’t worry about it.” Maggie started her engine. “Ask me to dinner to meet this hunk.” “I will.” She stowed the package behind the driver’s seat. All the way home, she couldn’t help wondering if there was a remote control clit stimulator, the toy she’d promised Quinn.

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After Elaine had left in the pickup, Quinn turned the mare and foal out into the paddock. He had to make a decision. Squaring his shoulders, he strode back to the house to find Jim. “What can I do for you?” Jim was sweeping leaves from the lawn area and stopped to lean on his broom. “I thought I’d take the gelding for a ride. Star and the foal are in the paddock.” “Makes no difference to me.” Jim picked up the broom and began sweeping again. Quinn hesitated. There was information he needed and to get it he had to leave Star alone. Jim glanced up. “So get going if you’re going. I take it you will be back?” “Of course.” Quinn swung away. There was a current of hostility in Jim’s demeanor that he had sensed from the beginning. The smiles for Elaine and the helpful advice faded when the old man turned his eyes on Quinn. Was it just the jealousy of an old man for a young one? Was he offended by them sleeping together without being married? Or was there something else? He turned back to face Jim. “I plan to marry her, you know.” Jim shrugged. “It’s her life.” “I love her. You should understand that.” Jim looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. “You loved your wife. You miss her,” Quinn added. “Yes, that’s right.” Jim forced a smile. “But my wife didn’t have a record.” “Record? What does that mean?” “Why don’t you ask your lady friend? Have a good ride.” Jim resumed his sweeping, his back solidly turned. There would be no more information from him. After a moment’s hesitation Quinn turned away again and went to saddle the horse. He rode the same trail as the day before and soon arrived at Mary Richardson’s house. The old lady was outside, potting some plants with red flowers. She looked up and put down her trowel. “Welcome,” she called. “This is a nice surprise. Where’s Elaine?” Quinn slid down from the horse. “She went into town to make arrangements for the repairs and cleaning.” Mary nodded. “Come on in and have a cup of coffee. It’s about time I took a break. This one-handed stuff is tiring.” “Can I do something for you?” “That’s kind of you, but the best thing is to come inside and put the coffee on.”

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Quinn followed her into her kitchen and helped set the pot going. Mary sat down at the kitchen table. “Now, what are you here for? It’s not just my pretty face.” Quinn gave a little bow. “Your face is always a delight, ma’am.” Mary gave a crow of laughter. “How nice. You’ve made my day, even if I know it’s not true. What is it you want?” Quinn pulled out a chair and sat. “Those photographs yesterday—” “What about them?” “I thought I saw a couple with Jim Burchitt, looking a fair bit younger.” “You’re right. I’ve known Jim all my life. We’re of an age, so we often were at the same events. Church picnics and summer festivals and the like.” Quinn nodded. “Was his wife in any of them?” “My Lord, yes. She married Jim almost straight out of high school. She and I were great pals then.” “So you must miss her a lot.” “Indeed I do. Although she had a hard life.” She sighed and shook her head. “There are no pictures of her at Jim’s house, so I don’t know what she looked like.” “No, I’m not surprised Jim doesn’t display pictures. He’s pretty bitter about what happened.” Mary glanced up at the box of photographs on top of the cupboard. “Well, I won’t suggest getting all those down again, but she was a very pretty girl. Curly brown hair and dimples she had, until life with Jim wore her down.” “She wasn’t happy with him?” “He was an absolute tyrant and jealous like you wouldn’t believe. She wasn’t allowed to talk to any of her friends at the end.” “At the end? You mean just before she died?” “Died? She’s not dead. Whatever gave you that idea? She found the courage to leave him at last, thanks to another friend of ours.” She got up to pour the coffee and passed a cup to Quinn. “It was Elaine’s grandfather, in fact, who helped her escape. Jim never forgave him, so that was why I wondered about you and Elaine staying there.” Quinn put his mug down. “Mrs. Richardson,” he said. “I think you had better tell me the whole story.” “And where you are, I want to be.” Elaine hummed the tune under her breath as she pulled into the driveway of Jim’s property. Star was out in the paddock with her new foal. There was no sign of the gelding. Jim emerged from the house as she opened the driver’s door.

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“Your friend has taken off,” he announced abruptly, before she even reached the steps. She adjusted her packages in her arms and paused. “Did he go for a ride?” Jim sniffed. “That’s what he told me.” She moved slowly up the steps. “That should be okay. The horse needs some exercise.” “How much do you know about him?” She stopped again on the porch. “As much as I need. He comes from an old family back in England.” Jim shoved his hands in his pockets. “So he has an EU passport and a visa?” Elaine suddenly felt cold. “I’m sure he does.” Did people even have passports in the late eighteen hundreds? “Why are you asking?” Jim forced a laugh. “Don’t mind me. Just being overprotective of you, I guess. Want to make sure you’re in good company.” He gave her a smile. Elaine frowned. “No need to worry. He’s good company. Excuse me, I have to put these things away.” She edged past her host and made her way to the bedroom. The packages slid from her arms onto the bed. Maggie’s toys were in one bag along with the thong she’d bought and some more sexy underwear. Until now she’d favored hi-cut briefs, but these wisps of lace would barely cover her mound. She busied herself tidying the room then went out to see Star and Diamond Stud. The colt was steadier on his legs, following his mother like an attached shadow while she cropped the grass. “Pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Elaine said. The mare looked up and shook her head as if in answer, nuzzled her foal to check him out yet again, then resumed her placid browsing. Elaine leaned on the fence and sighed with happiness. So she still didn’t have customers in sight, but they would come. The builders had said they would be finished in a month and the house would be habitable again in a week. She and Quinn together would make a great team. In the midst of her daydream she suddenly remembered Jim’s questions. Although she’d brushed them off, the echo had lingered. What kind of credentials did Quinn have? Would he be able to take his place in this society or would he always have to hide from the authorities? She was pretty sure there was no immigration category for time travelers. She propped her chin on her hands, still watching her new horse, and tried to think of a way out. Didn’t people manage to get false identities all the time? Something about taking the name of a dead child from a gravestone and getting a birth certificate. Who would know?

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In the middle of her musing, Quinn came into sight on the gelding. He trotted over to the stable and swung down from the saddle. Holding the horse by the reins, he took Elaine’s arm. “Come inside with me,” he said. She followed without a murmur as he led the gelding into the stable and began to remove the saddle. She fetched the brushes and worked with him, rubbing the animal down. Quinn brushed with fierce concentration, a frown between his brows. “Did you have a good ride?” she asked over the horse’s back after several minutes of silence. He nodded without speaking, his lips in a hard line. “Is there something the matter? Where did you go?” He looked up at her at last and stopped the movement of his hands. “I went the same way as before.” She smiled at him in encouragement. “Nice trail. Did you see Mrs. Richardson?” He started to brush again. “I did.” She came around the animal and stood beside him, placing her fingers over his. The movement of his hands ceased again and he stood unmoving. “Something’s happened,” she said. “Tell me.” He turned to her. “Yesterday I picked up the photos Mrs. Richardson had spilled on the floor.” “Right.” “There were two of a group of young people. There was writing on the back, but I couldn’t make it out.” She squeezed his hand in sympathy, remembering the misspelled note he’d left. “But I thought I recognized a couple of the faces.” He paused again. “Go on.” He took a deep breath and the words came out in a rush. “So I went back to see Mary Richardson to ask her. I was right. She’s known Jim Burchitt for many years.” “I still don’t know where you’re going with this.” Quinn kicked at a patch of straw, his eyes downcast. “I felt bad about wanting to know more about Jim, because I know you like him and he’s been kind to you. But there was something that niggled at me, so I asked.” “Asked what?” “When his wife and son died.” “And?”

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“They aren’t dead. His wife left him and his son took off as soon as he could after that.” Elaine frowned as she took it in. “He lied. But why?” “Mary said that he was a tyrant. His wife had a miserable life until she got up the courage to leave.” “Good for her.” “Your grandfather helped her to escape.” Elaine stared at him round-eyed, one hand to her mouth. After a long moment Quinn moved aside and picked up a back hoof, waiting for her to speak. At last he heard her draw in a shaky breath. “Why would he lie about it?” Quinn cleaned the gelding’s hoof with deft motions. “There could be many reasons. Shame, pride, denial.” He dropped the hoof and moved to take the other, resting it on his knee. “Do you think I’ve found my enemy?” “It’s possible.” She turned away and paced the narrow stall. “I have to keep Star and the foal here for a while. Do you think they’re in danger?” Quinn finished with the hoof and prodded the horse to make it move aside. “I suspect they will be safe for a while. If he did have something to do with the fire, he may have changed tactics.” “What do you mean?” Quinn looked at her over the horse’s rump. “What does it mean when someone has a record?”

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Chapter Eleven Elaine stared at him in horror. For a moment her vision played tricks. Quinn grew smaller, out of focus, and she closed her eyes. He had spoken quietly, but the word “record” echoed in her ears in a sibilant whisper as if he’d shouted it at the top of his lungs. She opened her eyes and he morphed back to his true size with every detail crystal clear. She could see the sun streaks in his dark hair and the faint line of stubble around his mouth. She shivered. He frowned. “Elaine, are you unwell?” He came around the horse to stand beside her, but a pace away, as if unsure of his welcome. She reached out to touch him, her hand finding the warmth of his arm. Touching him was automatic, an instinctive need for contact. As if reassured by her gesture, he moved closer and cradled her head on his shoulder. She put her hand against his neck, comforted by the warmth and hardness of his body, the substantial presence of him beside her. “My love, what is it? What have I said?” She found her voice at last. “Who said anything about a record?” He led her to a couple of hay bales against the wall. “Sit here. Do you want water? You’re pale.” “No, I’m fine.” She pulled him down next to her and his arms went around her. “Tell me.” “I was talking to Jim,” he began, “just before I went riding. I said he must miss his wife, because of course I thought she was dead, and said I planned to marry you.” He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “But we can talk about that later.” Still in a daze, Elaine listened to his deep voice. Marrying Quinn would be a pivotal point in her life, yet she could hardly take it in, her mind was so full of what Jim might have told him. “He said that at least his wife didn’t have a record. I wondered what he meant.” What to tell him? Would he care what had happened years ago? She drew a deep breath. She had to tell him. Honesty between them was the only way. She pulled away a little and his arms dropped from her. She pushed back her hair and sat squarely, feet together, braced for her story. “Having a record means that you were accused or, convicted, of something. So the police have a file on you.” “So who has a record?”

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“I do.” She raised her head to look him squarely in the eyes. “My husband, Jordan, had one too. It all happened before I moved back here.” “Tell me the whole thing.” She nodded. “When I was twenty I was living back East. I’d never had a parking ticket, never did drugs. I was the model nice girl. I was enrolled in a business administration program and my life was all mapped out. Then I met Jordan at a party and he swept me off my feet. I was crazy about him and I went along with whatever he wanted, did whatever he asked. Unfortunately, what he asked was against the law. He wanted me to drive a car and pick him up at a specific time. I said yes. I didn’t know it was a getaway car.” He frowned and she explained. “When people commit a robbery they need a quick way to disappear. Often there’s a car waiting for them.” She saw the questions trembling on his lips and touched her fingers to his mouth. “I’ll tell you what all that means later. For now, you need to know that we were caught and I was indicted along with Jordan and his associates. I’d never been in trouble before, so I got a suspended sentence and they believed me when I said I had no idea what Jordan was planning. At least there was no proof that I knew. They just thought I was stupid, and they were right. Jordan claimed he hadn’t understood what was planned either but they found incriminating evidence and he served six months. A couple of years later he was killed in a car crash, and I moved here to live with my grandfather. I’d spent a lot of time here when I was growing up, had always been around horses and loved to ride, so it seemed a perfect way to start over. As long as I keep out of trouble, there will never be another problem.” “So who else knows about this?” “That’s what I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “I’ve spent the last few years trying to put the whole mess behind me. I’ve never mentioned it to anyone. I suppose my grandfather might have told a couple of his friends.” She looked up at Quinn. “Didn’t Mary say they were all good friends at one time?” “It doesn’t matter too much how he knew. The point is that he’s willing to use it to turn me against you.” She took his hand. “I think Jim is more devious than we ever suspected. He tried to convince me that I didn’t know anything about you and then reminded me the stable burnt down just after you arrived.” “You mean, he said I set the fire?” “Pretty well. Of course I said it was ridiculous. He asked me a couple of times how much I knew about you.” She smiled at him. “I don’t know much, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.” “Let’s think about this.” Quinn’s brow creased in a frown. “He tried to put doubts in your mind about me and he told me you had a record. Presumably so I would

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distance myself. Maybe he hoped I would leave. Is he just a malicious old man, stirring up trouble, or is there something more?” “Don’t forget he lied about his wife being dead.” “Right. Add the fact that your grandfather helped her get away. Revenge is a powerful motive.” They sat in silence for a moment, each turning over the information and its implications. Finally Elaine spoke. “He burned down my stable.” “It’s very likely. Or someone working with him.” She looked up. “He said he had a niece. I wonder who that is. How could we find out?” “Only one way. We have to ask.” He stood and drew her to her feet keeping his hands on her arms. “Ask him?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. He could be dangerous. Who knows how his mind works? He could do harm to Star or Diamond.” “True. I meant we should ask Mary. I’ll ride over tomorrow morning.” Elaine turned away and moved to the stall where the gelding stood patiently. “Okay. Then what do we do about the horses?” She stroked the animal’s nose. “You said they would be safe for a few days, and I agreed, but I think I’ve changed my mind.” Quinn took a step toward her. “It’s my experience that people who want to harm you will take any means. Good sense doesn’t have much to do with it. And if they don’t succeed and are frustrated, they can be quite irrational.” “Sounds as if you have experience.” “I do.” His lips closed in a hard line. Elaine waited for a long moment and understood he would say no more. She sighed. “You go to see Mary tomorrow. I’ll stay with Star and Diamond. Do we sleep in the stable again tonight?” “Best to be sure.” He grinned. “I thought my bed in the straw was a thing of the past.” “Soon it will be.” She squared her shoulders. “Are we ready to act the innocents for a few more hours?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No problem.” Elaine and Quinn stayed close to the stable until suppertime and caught an occasional glimpse of their host as he moved around the property. Despite the warm, sunny afternoon Elaine felt cold every time she thought of Jim inviting her to stay, offering help. She had no proof of his involvement in her problems, but her gut told her his apparent hospitality must have been a sham to keep her under his eye. He’d burned

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her stable and tried to ruin her business. Did he intend to take away her mare and the valuable foal? She was leaning on the fence, watching Diamond as he staggered around while her mind refused to let go of the problem that was worrying her. Who was Jim’s niece? Did this mystery woman have a reason to connive in arson? The colt pranced a daring few paces from its mother, then scurried back to her sheltering flank. Elaine smiled. It wouldn’t be long before his legs grew stronger and he would be running alone in the field with all the energy of a young animal. Soon the mare and foal would be back in their own paddock. She would do a blitz on advertising, now that the developer was out of the picture. Suddenly she knew who her enemy was! The small reprieve from the turmoil of her thoughts had been enough to free her subconscious mind to make associations with memories. Who had told her that the bank manager had been in cahoots with the developer? Jane. She heard Jane’s words echoing in her mind. “I guess you’re over Jordan,” she’d said. Then, later, “Still on my own”. She remembered how, years ago, Jane had fixed her eyes on Jordan and hung on his every word. At the time she’d thought it was just because he was charming and good-looking. A cool guy from the big city. As his fiancée she’d basked in the reflected aura of admiration. “Enjoy your new catch.” In her head, the words echoed with bitterness. She’d been so full of her own delight in Quinn that she hadn’t even paid attention Jane’s tone or the sour expression on her face. Would someone be jealous enough to want to destroy everything that had been built up over the years? Maybe. Especially if there was a second person filled with malice to help and encourage. She turned away from the fence rail and hurried to Quinn’s side. He was sitting near the door of the stable, plaiting straw into a long strand. He looked up and rose to his feet as she ran to him. “What is it?” She grasped his arm, breathless from the emotions pounding through her. “Sit down. I know who it is.” Sitting tight against him on the straw bale, she told him in a voice scarcely above a whisper what she had figured out. “What do you think we should do?” she finished. “You’re the one who knows how things function. There’s a wee bit of evidence and lots of conjecture. Is there a militia or a force of some kind we could speak to?”

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“There’s an RCMP detachment in town. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police,” she added quickly in explanation. “I think I’ve heard of them.” “I expect you have. They do police work in smaller places that don’t have their own force. I could talk to them.” “So here’s the plan. We take turns to guard the horses tonight, then tomorrow you go into town to talk to the police.” She nodded. “Maybe we could have dinner on our own tonight. I don’t think I could sit across the table from Jim and swallow my food.” “Make a sandwich or whatever you call it,” Quinn said in a low voice. “I think we should stay with the animals. You don’t need darkness to cause mischief.” “I’ll go right now.” Jim wanted them to eat with him, but Elaine pleaded tiredness and a headache. “I guess you didn’t sleep too well out in the barn,” Jim said grudgingly. “You’ll be glad of a proper bed.” “I think we’ll continue to stand watch,” she said. “We still don’t know who set fire to the stable or who hired the vandals to wreck the house. Until then we prefer to guard the horses. For our own peace of mind.” Elaine took the first watch, pacing under the stars while Quinn slept. He had simply kissed her, whispered good night, then rolled himself into a blanket on the straw bed. Within seconds he was asleep. She stayed close to the stable, pondering all that had happened in so short a time. She had gained a lover but lost a barn. Gained a belief in the supernatural, but lost a friend. “Jane was never a true friend in the first place,” she told herself. “You can’t lose what you never had.” When she grew tired of wandering around the property, she sat on a bench near the door to the stable. The night was warm, but with no moon. Stars twinkled brightly overhead. The branches of the tall poplars near the entrance swayed and rustled in the slight breeze, casting moving shadows over the grass. It was quiet and peaceful, with no hint of the currents and tensions running underneath. For a while she turned her mind to cooking up ideas for her advertising campaign, but her thoughts inevitably returned to Quinn and the mirror. The house would be cleaned up within a couple of days. The broken glass of the mirror would have to be replaced. Would that destroy the magic properties? That was a foolish thought because those properties were probably gone, anyway. Who knew what conjunction of moon cycle, date and physical longing had brought about Quinn’s appearance in her life? Or what would put a stop to the mirror’s power?

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However it had happened, all she needed to do was to accept the wonderful gift she had received. She got up from the bench where she sat and peered through the door of the stable. The horses shifted in the stalls as they sensed her presence. Quinn was a dark shape in the corner. She longed to snuggle down beside him and feel his arms around her. His cheek against her hair, his mouth so close to her lips… She resisted the temptation and made herself do one more circuit of the grounds. At one in the morning, she shook Quinn awake. “Time to switch places,” she whispered. He was instantly awake and got to his feet. He took her in his arms, his rough chin rubbing her forehead. “I’d rather lie here with you,” he said. “I know, but we daren’t risk it.” Steeling herself against the temptation, she pulled away from his arms. A massive yawn overcame her. “Let me sleep for a bit. Then, when this is all over…” She thought of the stimulator Maggie had given her. She lay down on the warm straw, fitting herself into the hollow Quinn’s body had made. He tucked the blankets around her and kissed her. “Sweet dreams.” The rest of the night passed without incident. Quinn woke her at first light with a gentle kiss. His face was cool from the night air. She stirred and laced her hands behind his neck, fastening her lips to his in greedy abandon. He felt wonderfully solid and reassuring. For two pins she would have pulled him down beside her, but this time it was Quinn who resisted. “Time to get up,” he said. With a pout of disappointment, she let him go and got to her feet. They grabbed bowls of cereal for breakfast. “I like this stuff,” Quinn said, munching away on a mouthful of granola. “Pity we don’t have any at home.” Elaine stopped eating and gazed at him. “This is home now,” she said. “I can make granola whenever you want. Or buy it.” “Of course, of course.” He chuckled. “Just a lapse of memory. Forgive me.” Elaine went into town, leaving Quinn to see to the horses and turn them out. Clouds had built up in the early morning and there was a threat of rain in the air. She called on the vet who had sent the pellets for analysis. “Yes, I have the results,” he said. “Rather strange, actually. They’re a nutritional supplement that’s been off the market for a number of years, that’s why I didn’t recognize it. Nothing dangerous, but the company made a new formula. You know how it is.” “Yes, I understand exactly.”

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She paid the bill and took a copy of the results. Who would have out-of-date feed on the premises? The answer wasn’t hard to find. She drove by her property and was pleased to see the cleaning crew hard at work. A skip stood by the front door to the house, already half full of soiled carpet. One of the men saw her in the doorway and stopped his work to speak to her. “Most of the stuff is finished,” he said. “Do you want up to keep any of it?” She shook her head. “Salvage what you can, then put everything else in the skip.” “Looks as if your computer might be okay, but the TV’s a goner. By the way, I think you should take these.” He handed her the pair of silver candlesticks. “Look as if they might be valuable.” “Thank you.” She took hold of the candlesticks by their stems. Her hand tingled where it touched the metal. Imagination, or…? The man turned to move away, back to his crew. “Wait!” He paused, balanced to walk on. “I don’t want you to touch the mirror,” she said. “That big old thing? The glass is all broken.” “I know. But it’s important to me. Leave it where it is.” He shrugged. “Just as you please. I think a couple of the guys were talking about taking it down. I’ll check on it.” “Leave the broken glass too.” “If you say so. I’ll need you to let the insurance company know that you told us to leave it.” “I’ll do that.” She backed away and turned to go down the steps of the porch. It didn’t feel real, seeing the house stripped of its furnishing, smelling of disinfectant and paint. It was hard to see it as the same place she had known and loved, where she had taken refuge and worked so hard to realize her dreams. Her dreams at the time had not included Quinn. Was that what made everything feel so different? In town she checked in with the insurance agent and then went to the RCMP office. Even she knew her tale sounded thin and unconvincing. “So we think that Jim Burchitt and Jane Simmons are in league with the developer to drive me away,” she finished lamely. There was no point in adding the fact that Jim had fed her horses a harmless but old-fashioned nutritional supplement. Who could find anything criminal in that? “So what proof do you have?” The young RCMP officer moved a file on his desk. He didn’t seem to want to meet her eye. It was likely his first assignment and he hadn’t

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had much experience with intense women with fanciful stories. She’d bet he hadn’t yet developed a thick enough skin to tell a woman she was crazy. “It all ties together,” she insisted. He looked up at last. “It does to you,” he said. “But these are serious accusations. You’re saying that two upstanding citizens, neither of whom have any criminal past, are in league with each other and possibly a prominent developer to ruin your business. You think they’ve burned down your stable and vandalized your house. But then one of them offered shelter for you and your horses. How much did he say he would charge you for that?” “Nothing.” She cleared her throat. “He said I needn’t pay him.” The officer nodded. “Doesn’t sound like malice to me. And the man you’re with, he comes from—” “He’s British.” “What is his business here?” “He was visiting his sister.” “Give me the name and address, just so I can complete the file. If you still want to make a complaint, that is.” She stood. “No, there’s no point. I won’t make a complaint after all. Talking it over with you has made me see how weak my case is. I apologize for taking your time.” He got to his feet and thrust his hand over the desk. “I’m sure you’ll be able to work out your differences with your neighbors,” he said. “Good luck.” She shook his hand. “Thank you.” As she drove down the main street she glimpsed Jane talking to a man outside the bank. As she watched, Jane put a hand on the man’s arm. He smiled and took her hand. Neither of them noticed Elaine driving by. For the last few days she had been insulated from worry and despair by the presence of Quinn. Now suddenly a wave of gloom washed over her. It was hopeless to think she could rebuild a failing business just because she had a strong helper and lots of good ideas. She needed cash and goodwill from the community as well as a strong back and a willing heart. The officer’s question about Quinn had disturbed her. Of course he would have to provide ID for medical coverage, for any kind of insurance, for almost anything he might want to do. She pulled over to the side of the road in front of a small shopping mall and rooted in her purse for a quarter and a business card. She found a phone that was working and put in the call to Victoria. To her relief she heard Denman’s voice answering the phone. For a moment she was at a loss for words. “Hello?” Denman said. “Is anyone there?”

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Elaine found her voice. “Mr. Denman,” she said. “It’s Elaine Christie. Forgive me, I half expected to speak to your secretary.” “Out with the flu,” he said. “Besides, this is my private number. So what can I do for you, Ms. Christie?” “Can I make an appointment with you?” “This sounds as if I might be getting good news,” he said. “You can be here in an hour.” Three hours later Elaine emerged from his office and drove back to Jim’s place. Quinn was sitting outside by the paddock, plaiting his straw rope again, his feet on the lower rail. He stood as the pickup came into sight. She pulled up beside him. He opened the driver’s door and grabbed her as she emerged. “Thought you’d had an accident,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “Or changed your mind about me.” His arms were tight around her and he rocked her against his solid body. “Never that.” She lifted her face for his kiss and his lips came down hard on hers. She was home. At long last he relaxed his hold on her and smoothed back her hair. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.” She took his hand and led him away from the car. “Are the horses all right?” “They’re fine.” She stopped by the wall of the stable. “I have something to tell you.” She looked around. “Where’s Jim?” Quinn shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of him, but I heard his car earlier so I suppose he’s gone out.” “Good, then we can talk.” She laced her fingers in his. “I went by the house.” “How is the repair work?” “They’re doing a good job. They should be finished in a couple of days. But they haven’t started rebuilding the stable yet.” Quinn waited, silent, allowing her to tell the story in her own time. “I was so sure that I wanted to build my life around the stable…” She sighed and looked down at their entwined hands. “But that was before you came.” She paused again. “I didn’t feel any attachment when I went back. It was just an empty house. Rather shabby and old-fashioned. “So while I was in town, I went to see Denman, the developer. That is why I took so long.” She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I have a tentative agreement to sell.” 126

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“Are you sure?” “Not really, that’s why I haven’t signed anything. But he’s offering a good price and he’s agreed not to overbuild. I wanted to ask you what you thought.” “My love, I feel inadequate to advise you—” She cut in before he finished. “After the house I went to the RCMP.” “And?” “They didn’t exactly twirl their fingers next to their forehead, but they obviously thought I was nuts. Jim and Jane are well thought of. Law-abiding citizens. Why would they suddenly branch out into crime? And then the officer wanted to know who you were. He asked for your sister’s address.” She laughed. “What could I tell him? The house doesn’t exist. That would certainly raise their interest, if he ever checked. You have no ID, no background, no family. It’s not easy nowadays to create an identity.” “What are you saying?” “I guess what I’m asking is if you want to stay in this time.”

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Chapter Twelve Elaine saw surprise and bewilderment flicker across Quinn’s face. Before he could speak, she continued. “I haven’t really thought it all through properly myself, but listen. I wanted you so much when I first saw you, and I longed for you to be with me. I couldn’t believe it when you came back to me through the mirror. But now I wonder if that was best for you. You came to this Victoria in the eighteen hundreds to make your father proud of you. Back in your time together we could create something wonderful.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you wanted me to go back and leave you here.” “Oh, no, no. Never that.” She placed her palm flat over his thudding heart. “I love you more than anything else, more than my stable, more than all the people I know here. I don’t have many ties. A few friends, that’s all. You have your sister and her family and your father and brother.” “They don’t want me.” “Maybe not, but you would still like to show them you could make good. Wouldn’t you?” His lips curved in a smile. “I most certainly would. You tempt me.” “Well, I was thinking. You have your diamond pin, I would have money from the sale of the property. And I would sell Star and Diamond. If we converted to gold, wouldn’t that be enough to start something solid back in your time?” She had no conscious recollection of planning such a thing. Her mind had been working on the possibilities without her realizing it. She lifted her head and watched the play of emotions on his face, the gleam of interest in his eye. “It might not be possible to return,” he said. “How do we know it would work after the solstice, with the broken glass? If those were the things that made it work in the first place.” “But you’d try? You wouldn’t say no?” “I wouldn’t say no, but how would you live in my time?” “As your wife. Think of all the knowledge I would bring. I could help you with whatever you wanted to do and it would be easier for me to simplify my life than for you to learn everything that’s happened in the last hundred years.” She moved her hand from his chest to stroke his neck. Oh, the feel of his skin under her fingers set her blood racing again. “I’ve always felt I’d like to live in a slower, gentler time.” Still he shook his head. “We need to think about this. Suppose the mirror won’t let us through? Maybe it won’t take two people.” 128

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“And maybe it will.” She felt a surge of excitement as the idea took hold of her and the possibilities fired in her mind. “If we go, we go together. Agreed?” He seemed to make up his mind and the frown vanished. “Most certainly.” “If it won’t let us through we’ll think of something else. I didn’t have much luck when I talked with the police, but I know Jim burned my barn and trashed my house out of revenge for the part my grandfather paid in his wife leaving him. And I thought Jane was my friend and all the time she hated me. If the police won’t prosecute Jim and his niece, then I don’t think I want to live around them, knowing what they did. I would want to move somewhere new.” She saw the lift of his head, the spark in his eye as he contemplated the challenge. “It’s worth a risk. When would we go?” “At the next full moon, so we have almost a month to prepare. I made them leave the mirror untouched. We have the candlesticks and I think they have something to do with the magic. The only thing we don’t know is if the solstice played an important part. That’s a chance we’ll have to take.” Quinn drew in a deep breath. “The most important thing for me is to be with you. I don’t care where I live or what I do. I must say I would have liked to learn more about this world, but the thought of letting my father know I succeeded would be very sweet.” “We’ll go visit him in Devonshire,” she said. “We’ll show him what you’ve done in the Colonies.” “Hey, we haven’t traveled back yet.” “Oh, we will. I know we will. It’s the reason all this happened.”

***** Three days later her house was clean, all the garbage hauled away. Elaine had avoided Jim for the last few days, merely exchanging pleasantries. They still stood guard in the stable every night and she longed to sleep with Quinn again, to feel his body beside her during the darkness, to breathe in his warm scent, to caress him. They snatched an embrace and a kiss whenever they could, but both were on edge as they watched for any danger to themselves or the horses. The boarded gelding was removed to another stable, leaving just Star and her foal. Elaine hesitated to borrow Jim’s horse trailer again to move them, but decided it was better to act as if they had no suspicions. She used the trailer and even thanked him profusely for his hospitality. She breathed a huge sigh of relief as they pulled away. The horses would use the three-sided shelters in the paddock until the sales were complete. She already had received calls from prospective buyers. There was some furniture left in the house, but the bed had been beyond repair. She bought a blow-up mattress and sleeping bags, which they laid on the floor. Quinn

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seemed to accept everything as a matter of course and busied himself around the property. The agreement with Denman was signed and they fixed a closing date two weeks ahead. The vacating date was the last day of the next full moon. That evening she stood in the kitchen to mark the dates on the calendar tacked to the wall. It was now full summer and both she and Quinn wore shorts. Her skin tingled from the exposure to the sun and moisture beaded on her lip. Her hair clung damply to her neck. She reached into the refrigerator for iced water and put the bottle to her lips. Quinn’s footsteps sounded on the porch steps and then he was behind her, so close the heat of his body added to hers. Without turning, she swayed back a few inches, nestling against his naked chest. He put his arms around her, pulling her against him, then bent his head to shower tiny kisses down the column of her neck. She shivered. “Cold?” “No. At the risk of repeating myself, you do it to me every time.” She leaned back against him, reveling in the feel of his thighs against the back of her legs. She pointed to the date she had just entered in red pencil. “The last day of the full moon,” she said. “But we can start trying to go through as soon as it’s full. That way we’ll have three or four shots at it.” His hands found the gap between her shorts and the skimpy tank top and inched up to her breasts. Since they had moved back to her property she had dispensed with wearing a bra. She enjoyed the friction of the cotton on her naked flesh, loved the way Quinn’s eyes followed the swell of her breasts under the thin fabric, loved letting him see the outline of her nipples. Under her shorts she wore a scanty thong. As she’d suspected, there had been one in the package Maggie had given her and she’d bought more. Quinn left one hand cupping her breast and slid his hand down inside her shorts, giving a grunt of satisfaction when his fingers met the damp piece of cloth that barely covered her mound. “Do you remember the first time in this kitchen?” he murmured in her ear. More cream oozed from between her thighs. “I’ll never forget.” He squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then released her breast. He took the water bottle from her, lifted it to his lips and drank. Holding the bottle, still tipped, he let the icy drops fall on the cotton covering her breasts. The cold made her gasp and her nipples pucker. He put down the water bottle and tugged her shirt up over her head. Then, seizing the bottle again, he dribbled more drops onto her naked breast. A drop of water hung on the end of her nipple and he bent lower to catch it on the tip of his tongue, brushing her flesh with a feather touch. His other hand moved between her legs, caressing the tiny spot that sent shock waves through her.

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She could stand it no longer. “This is going to be a repeat performance,” she groaned and thrust her shorts down her legs. They fell in a heap on the floor and she kicked them away. Quinn knelt and turned her to face him, easing the thong from her hips, letting it join the other discarded clothing. “I want you to take that with you,” he murmured. “You’ll wear it for me under the skirts you’ll have to adopt. Only I will know.” He kissed her where her thighs joined her belly and slid his hands up her legs until his thumbs rested on the patch of curls. “Take the toys too.” As he spoke he wriggled his thumbs between her legs to grasp her clit. He began a slow, rhythmic massage of the tiny nub, making her cry out. “That’s what I like to hear.” His voice was low and deep, rough with desire. “Where do you want it?” “Do me right here, right now,” she gasped. “I can’t wait.” He stood in a swift movement and caught her up in his arms and sat her on the kitchen counter. “Wait ten seconds.” He ripped off his shorts and flung them on the other discarded clothing. The work outdoors had deepened his tan and honed his muscles. Elaine feasted her eyes on his biceps as they rippled with each movement. His chest muscles moved smoothly under his skin. She put out a hand to touch him and stroked down to his jutting cock, sheathing it between her curved fingers. He kept his eyes on her hand as she moved it up and down. He parted her legs. “Put it in when you’re ready,” he whispered. “It’s yours.” His lips came down hard on hers and she felt the electricity snake from her mouth to her belly to join the fire between her legs. Still holding his cock, she pulled him tight against her and spread her thighs. His tongue flickered into her mouth and she opened it wider as he stroked the sensitive skin inside her cheek. She guided him into her and his arms went around her back, imprisoning her against his hard body. She twined her legs around his waist. He thrust once, twice, and with a cry they climaxed together. The days sped by, moving to the first night of the full moon. They both worked from dawn to dusk, Elaine driving often into town to complete all the paperwork and Quinn caring for the animals and preparing the place for buyers. Elaine let it be known that she was moving away and that everything was for sale. Everything except an antique mirror. At night they fell into bed exhausted. Their lovemaking took on a new aspect. The frenzy of the first days gave way to a slow, burning desire that they welcomed every night. Quinn’s kisses were deep and sweet, his hands on her tired body soothing and inflaming at the same time. Her weariness could never win over the need she felt for

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him and she spread her arms and legs wide, then locked him tight against her chest and belly as he slid his hard cock into her. She held him tight to her, feeling the rhythm of his breathing deepen and quicken as he drove her to climax. Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms and slept until first light. Every morning when she woke, the first sight that met her eyes was Quinn’s face next to her, the first sensation that of his leg, warm and heavy over hers, the first sounds his deep breathing. From time to time she went into the bare living room and gazed into the mirror, its cracked glass a mute reminder of the miracle that had happened. The check came through from the insurance company and the next day Denman presented her with the final payment for the whole property. “Where will you go?” he asked. Elaine shrugged. “We’re not sure yet. We’ll find something that will suit us both.” “What will you do with your horses?” “The gelding left before we came back. I’m looking for a home for Star and Diamond.” “I understand the foal had a good stud.” “Yes, my grandfather was able to negotiate an excellent deal. He should be a firstclass jumper.” “Have you set a price?” “I have something in mind.” Denman reached for paper and a pen in a metal stand on his desk. “I have a daughter who loves to ride,” he said, writing something. “She wants her own horse. Tell me if this is in your ballpark.” He pushed the paper over to her and she read the scrawled figures. It was more than she had thought possible. “Mr. Denman—” “We’ll take excellent care of them,” he said. “And you could even come to visit if you’re ever this way again.” “You’re very generous…” she began. He interrupted her, leaning back in his leather chair. “I have to say I admire you, Ms. Christie. Once you make up your mind you pursue what you want without flinching. You fought for your property and then you weighed all the pros and cons and made a different decision. It benefited me, but I know you’ll succeed wherever you decide to go. And that young man of yours—” He paused, searching for words. “You just seem to be a good fit, that’s all.” Elaine rose to her feet. “Thank you, Mr. Denman,” she said, putting out her hand. “I had nothing good to say about you at first, but I think I was wrong. I’m glad you feel as I do about safeguarding the beauty of the property. I know it will do well.”

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Denman took her hand. “Thank you. Let me know when you’re ready to send me the horses. I’ll send someone over.” It only remained to complete the purchase of the gold and have Maggie meet Quinn as she’d promised.

***** The day Star and Diamond left symbolized the end of Elaine’s life in the modern world. She laid her cheek on the mare’s neck and let her tears flow. “Be happy, Star,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget you.” Quinn put an arm across her shoulders as Denman and his daughter led the mare and the foal into the horse trailer. Elaine wiped her eyes with the tail of her shirt and waved goodbye. Just as tough was saying goodbye to her friend, Maggie. They arranged to meet for dinner in town. As usual, Maggie was late. Quinn touched the back of Elaine’s fingers. “This will be hard for you.” She nodded. “But I have to do it. We owe her a lot. She brought all the toys, remember.” The door to the restaurant flew open and she steeled her nerves for the inevitable. Maggie arrived like a whirlwind and the first thing she did was wave her hand under Elaine’s nose. “Me too,” she said. A diamond ring flashed on her third finger. Elaine sprang to her feet and hugged her friend. “I’m so happy for you.” Quinn rose to his feet and gave Maggie his hand and a little bow. “Quinn Lockyer,” he murmured. Maggie’s eyes grew round and a faint flush stained her cheeks. “Oh my!” she said and sank into the chair Quinn held for her. During dinner Quinn displayed all his elegant manners and captivating smile to charm Maggie into an unquestioning admirer. Maggie’s own happiness made her a little less intent on asking probing questions about what they planned to do and where they would live that would have been hard to answer. After the meal the two women embraced on the pavement outside. “Stay in touch,” Maggie said. “I’ll try.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. And if they didn’t go through the glass she would be only too happy to keep up with such a dear friend. “Love to Jake.” With a lump in her throat she watched Maggie start her car and drive away. Quinn put his arm around her waist. “It’s just the two of us now.” From that point on she considered herself Quinn’s wife and committed to returning more than a hundred years in the past. She borrowed books from the library and searched on the Internet for as much information as she could. She knew what clothes 133

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she would be expected to wear—with the exception of certain undergarments, of course—and what food she would eat. She checked on the current events of the time in the British Columbia Archives and knew what political issues preoccupied the citizens of Victoria. She also made a list of companies that did well as the nineteenth century turned into the twentieth. She and Quinn, and any children they might have, would be secure. Every evening before she and Quinn went to bed, they stood outside in the gathering dusk and watched the moon. Every evening it rose a little fuller, the dark bite from its face growing smaller. On the last day she set out a long robe and packed a small hold-all with things she wanted to take with her. She placed the bag in front of the mirror like a sacrificial offering. When the moon had risen, sending rays of silver into the room, they stood hand in hand in front of the mirror. The broken glass glinted in the moonlight. Elaine wore her old robe, the one Quinn had first seen her in, hoping that it would not be too unlike the housedresses of the time. Quinn had put on his own clothes. She slung the handles of her bag over one arm and clutched one of the candlesticks in the same hand. Quinn held the other. She felt a faint tingle against her palm. “Do you feel anything?” she asked. “The candlestick is warm. I felt that when I went through before.” “A good omen.” She turned her head to give a last look around the empty room, then turned to smile at Quinn. Her heart thudded in her throat and she felt slightly out of breath. “Don’t let go of me,” she said. His fingers tightened on hers. “I’ll never let you go. Are you ready?” “Ready.” “Once we’re up, keep moving.” They climbed the folding steps they had placed in front of the fireplace and from there stepped onto the mantelpiece. Quinn continued the movement, drawing her with him through the frame and the shards of glass.

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Epilogue In November, the new Lockyer livery stables were the talk of the town, built with all the modern ideas for caring for horses, although some in Victoria predicted disaster by spring because of the high costs of the construction and fittings. But the prime minister had decided to stable some of his horses there and that was the seal of approval. The Colonist newspaper had run an article. Just before the official opening Quinn burst into their bedroom after she had taken her bath. He enfolded her in his arms and buried his face in her neck. “God, you smell good,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’ve got something to show you. Come with me.” “I’m not dressed.” He gathered a dress from a heap on the floor. “Put this on. Don’t bother with anything underneath.” He waggled his eyebrows at her in a way that always made her laugh. She scrambled into her clothes, still longing for jeans and T-shirts, and thrust her feet into her shoes. “Come on, come on.” Quinn grabbed her hand and pulled her to the door. She picked up a shawl in passing and clattered down the stairs after him. A carriage stood at the door and Quinn bundled her inside. “Where are we going?” “Not far.” They took the familiar road to the livery stable and pulled up in front of the wide doorway. Without a word Quinn led her to one of the stalls in the nearly finished building. With a gasp of delight, Elaine saw a pretty mare with a white blaze on her forehead. She clapped her hands over her mouth and looked at Quinn. “She’s yours,” he said. “The nearest I could find to Star. Do you like her?” In answer she flung her arms around his neck and hid her tears against his shoulder. “How can I ever thank you?” He kissed her forehead. “Well, since you ask…” he whispered in her ear. The next day Margaret and Walter held a reception for Quinn and his new wife on the occasion of the opening of their livery stable. Elaine wore a new dress of brocaded

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silk in a deep russet color that Quinn said reminded him of horse chestnuts. Her hair had grown longer and her maid had braided it high over her brow. She wore no jewelry save a plain gold wedding band and gold studs in her ears. Under her wide skirts she had put on the expected petticoats but not the usual bloomers. She was slim enough not to need a corset, although Margaret thought it scandalous that she did not wear one anyway. She sat across the table from Quinn and admired him in his new coat and white stock. His diamond pin gleamed at his throat. The gold she had brought with her had been more than enough to set them up in the new business and to buy a small house near the harbor. She still had to get used to letting servants look after her home, but in compensation that allowed her to spend her days with Quinn. Margaret and the other women found it hard to understand that she would even want to run the business side of the operation, let alone be capable of doing it, but accepted the strange ways of a young woman who had come out of nowhere to captivate Quinn Lockyer. And who had set the black sheep on a new path of responsibility. It was eight o’clock and they had finished the soup course. Victorians tended to retire early and the dinner party should finish by ten. She did a quick calculation in her head…fifteen minutes to say goodnight to the family and return to their own house… She saw Quinn’s hand go to his pocket as he smiled and nodded with his neighbor. Seconds later a fizzing jolt hit her clit and she shifted in her seat. Quinn pretended to glance casually around the table and caught her eye. She bit her lip and saw the sly smile on his lips. The bag she had brought with her from the future had contained only a few things—gold ingots, three thongs, some photographs and the sex toys Maggie had given her. Plus a supply of batteries. Quinn had the controller of the clit stimulator in his pocket and had given her the first reminder of what awaited her in their bed. What the well-dressed woman needs on a trip through time. Moisture began to ooze between her thighs and her breasts tingled with anticipation. She turned to her neighbor as the maid served a plate of venison. “May I pass you the gravy?” she asked as another tiny jolt fizzed through her vagina. “I do enjoy these dinner parties, don’t you?” The End

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About the Author Margrett Dawson has been a nomad most of her life, and has lived in six different countries. She is settled for a while with her own romance hero on Vancouver Island on Canada's Pacific Coast, where she loves to craft sexy stories about people who fall in love. She will move on again (this time to Africa for a few months) but will continue to spin tales, especially about people who find romance when they least expect it. Margrett welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502

Also by Margrett Dawson Bella Donna Heat Hot to the Touch Secret Services

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