opened his eyes to find her still watching him. “No.”
“Are you okay?” There was concern in her eyes. Concern and uncertainty.
“Yeah.” He reached for her, pulling her against him, molding her back against his front and covering them both with the sheet. Her head was nestled underneath his chin, and he held her close, his arm around her, one hand resting lightly on her breast.
He held her possessively, even though he knew she wasn’t his to keep.
This
wasn’t
right, what he’d done, what he wasdoing with her here, tonight. He’d tried to convince himself otherwise in the heat of passion, but now he was face-to-face with the truth. Making love to her and holding her this way as she slept was wrong. But tonight was the only time with Maggie that he had—it was the only time he’d ever have.
And he was taking that time, even though he knew doing so was selfish and cruel.
He knew damn well he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her his secrets. He wasn’t any good at opening up, at expressing himself. God, he hadn’t even been able to tell her that he loved her.
But that was the least of it.
Sixty hours. Fewer now. If he failed, in less than sixty hours he would be dead.
And if he succeeded … If his plan worked, if Maggie could convince Charles to switch his career to medicine, then time travel would never be invented. Wizard-9 would be thwarted, the White House wouldn’t be blown up, the president wouldn’t die.
And Chuck’s current life and the path he’d taken to get here would be instantly erased. His life as he knew it would simply cease to exist.
And Chuck himself would vanish.
SEVEN
L ATE IN THE afternoon, Maggie awoke to find Chuck staring at the ceiling.
She lay there for a moment, studying his profile. His mouth was set in its usual grim line, and the muscles in the side of his jaw were jumping. No wonder he frequently gripped and rubbed his forehead and neck—his constantly clenched teeth probably gave him one incredible headache.
Maggie wished she had the power to read minds, to know what he was thinking.
She didn’t try to fool herself into imagining that he would ever volunteer that information.
Her stomach rumbled hungrily and he turned his head. “You’re awake.”
She nodded, wondering when he looked into her eyes if he saw a still-smoldering echo of the love they’d shared in the early-morning light.
Maggie had never experienced anything like that before in her entire life.
It had been wild and raw—by far the best sex she’d ever had. Ever.
But it had been so much more than that too.
She had never felt so connected, so in tune with another human being.
She had never felt so complete.
Except after they’d made love, after they’d exhausted their desire, after he’d pulled her into his arms and held her, he hadn’t said a single word.
Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe she didn’t need him to talk to her. Maybe his nonverbal skills would make up for his deficiencies in the more traditional types of communication.
She leaned toward him to kiss him, hoping to engage in more of that nonverbal communication.
But Chuck met her lips only briefly before he pulled away. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting for a moment with his back to her. “It’s nearly four-thirty. We need to start getting ready.”
She sat up, touching his back. “Ready for what? I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.” She pressed herself against him as she kissed his shoulder, encirclinghim with her arms, her hand encountering the muscles of his taut stomach, then sliding even lower. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into—”
Chuck caught her hand. “Maggie, we need to go.” He stood up, grabbing his jeans from the floor and pulling them on in one swift motion. “If you want to take a shower, you should do it now.”
He wanted her, Maggie knew he did. He was far more than half-aroused. It was something of a challenge for him to
“Are you okay?” There was concern in her eyes. Concern and uncertainty.
“Yeah.” He reached for her, pulling her against him, molding her back against his front and covering them both with the sheet. Her head was nestled underneath his chin, and he held her close, his arm around her, one hand resting lightly on her breast.
He held her possessively, even though he knew she wasn’t his to keep.
This
wasn’t
right, what he’d done, what he wasdoing with her here, tonight. He’d tried to convince himself otherwise in the heat of passion, but now he was face-to-face with the truth. Making love to her and holding her this way as she slept was wrong. But tonight was the only time with Maggie that he had—it was the only time he’d ever have.
And he was taking that time, even though he knew doing so was selfish and cruel.
He knew damn well he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her his secrets. He wasn’t any good at opening up, at expressing himself. God, he hadn’t even been able to tell her that he loved her.
But that was the least of it.
Sixty hours. Fewer now. If he failed, in less than sixty hours he would be dead.
And if he succeeded … If his plan worked, if Maggie could convince Charles to switch his career to medicine, then time travel would never be invented. Wizard-9 would be thwarted, the White House wouldn’t be blown up, the president wouldn’t die.
And Chuck’s current life and the path he’d taken to get here would be instantly erased. His life as he knew it would simply cease to exist.
And Chuck himself would vanish.
SEVEN
L ATE IN THE afternoon, Maggie awoke to find Chuck staring at the ceiling.
She lay there for a moment, studying his profile. His mouth was set in its usual grim line, and the muscles in the side of his jaw were jumping. No wonder he frequently gripped and rubbed his forehead and neck—his constantly clenched teeth probably gave him one incredible headache.
Maggie wished she had the power to read minds, to know what he was thinking.
She didn’t try to fool herself into imagining that he would ever volunteer that information.
Her stomach rumbled hungrily and he turned his head. “You’re awake.”
She nodded, wondering when he looked into her eyes if he saw a still-smoldering echo of the love they’d shared in the early-morning light.
Maggie had never experienced anything like that before in her entire life.
It had been wild and raw—by far the best sex she’d ever had. Ever.
But it had been so much more than that too.
She had never felt so connected, so in tune with another human being.
She had never felt so complete.
Except after they’d made love, after they’d exhausted their desire, after he’d pulled her into his arms and held her, he hadn’t said a single word.
Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe she didn’t need him to talk to her. Maybe his nonverbal skills would make up for his deficiencies in the more traditional types of communication.
She leaned toward him to kiss him, hoping to engage in more of that nonverbal communication.
But Chuck met her lips only briefly before he pulled away. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting for a moment with his back to her. “It’s nearly four-thirty. We need to start getting ready.”
She sat up, touching his back. “Ready for what? I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.” She pressed herself against him as she kissed his shoulder, encirclinghim with her arms, her hand encountering the muscles of his taut stomach, then sliding even lower. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into—”
Chuck caught her hand. “Maggie, we need to go.” He stood up, grabbing his jeans from the floor and pulling them on in one swift motion. “If you want to take a shower, you should do it now.”
He wanted her, Maggie knew he did. He was far more than half-aroused. It was something of a challenge for him to
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