Hawk's Way (4 page)

“It's a phone. It's used to talk to people who are somewhere else.”

Angel frowned. “Magic?”

“No. It's mechanical. Although I don't know if you'd call fiber optics exactly mechanical,” Dallas said with a humorous twist of his lips. “Maybe magic
is
the better word.”

“How does it work?”

Dallas grimaced. Every question she asked pointed out his ignorance of the technical world in which he lived. “I just know how to work it, not how it works,” he admitted. “The world's not a simple place anymore. There's a lot we accept on faith. Like, if I turn on the stove I get heat. The refrigerator keeps things cold. I turn a spigot and water comes out, punch a button and the television works. These days people learn specific jobs and don't know much beyond their own particular skill.”

“Sort of like the butcher and the baker and the blacksmith each has a trade?” Angel asked.

“Exactly the same,” he agreed. “Only things have gotten a lot more complicated since computers were invented.”

Angel didn't understand a tenth of what Dallas was saying. The words he used meant nothing, provoked no images of anything with which she was familiar. It was hard not to feel overwhelmed.
And frightened. Much as she hated to admit it, perhaps staying with Dallas wasn't such a bad idea—at least until she could absorb and understand some of the shocking changes the world had undergone. Or until she could figure out some way to get back to her life in the past.

“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” Dallas asked.

“I suppose.”

Dallas showed Angel the kitchen, demonstrating modern appliances that kept her eyebrows perpetually raised in astonishment. The bathroom had a sink, toilet and tub, all of which she longed to use. There were three bedrooms. The two bedrooms upstairs were filled with furniture he called antiques, but which she found achingly familiar. The downstairs bedroom had been converted into an office. Besides what Dallas described as “a bed hidden in the sofa,” the room contained more mechanical devices, including a mystical “computer” that had apparently revolutionized the way things were done in the modern world.

“Would it be all right if I take a bath?” Angel asked, looking longingly in the direction of the large indoor tub she had seen.

Dallas frowned. “I'd feel better if Doc Philips checked you out before I leave you alone behind a closed door.”

“How long before he gets here?”

A knock on the door answered her question. “I suspect that's him now.”

Dallas opened the door to a handsome young man, not much older than he, wearing a white Oxford cloth shirt and jeans with a denim jacket. His eyes were a startling blue and openly curious when he spotted Angel.

Dallas put a protective arm around Angel's shoulders and pulled her forward. “Angel, this is Dr. Adam Philips. We grew up as neighbors. Adam, this is Angel Taylor.”

“You both look pretty healthy to me,” Adam said. “Why the urgent call?”

Dallas's gaze slid to Angel and back to the doctor. “Everything isn't always what it seems.”

“Meaning?”

“Angel has a bump on her head. I'd like you to check it out.”

Dallas met Adam's questioning gaze but shook his head slightly to indicate he didn't want to talk.

“All right,” Adam said. “Let's get to it. How about if you lie down on the couch, Angel, and I'll look you over.”

Angel eyed the doctor's black bag anxiously. She had never had much use for doctors. She tensed as he pulled a small object out of the bag.
He pushed a button and the contraption in his hand lit up. She sat up abruptly. “What's that?”

Adam looked at her and then at Dallas before he answered. “A sort of flashlight, so I can see into your eyes.”

“What's a flashlight?” Angel demanded suspiciously.

Dallas saw in Adam's expression the concern about Angel that he had been feeling himself for the past several hours. He listened as Adam calmly explained the inner mechanism of a flashlight, down to how a battery worked, and found himself chagrined to be learning along with Angel. All the time Adam talked, the doctor slowly but thoroughly examined his patient.

Angel was relieved when the doctor took an ordinary stethoscope from his bag, but became concerned again when he withdrew what he said was a blood-pressure cuff. He was straightforward in his explanations of everything he did before he did it, answering her questions as though they weren't at all unusual. Though his instruments frightened her, nothing he did in his examination hurt her. He cleaned her skinned knee using something from a unique spraying can, then covered it with gauze and tape.

When Adam had finished with his medical examination, he stood up and walked over to talk
privately with Dallas. “The skinned knee is superficial. As far as I can tell, the bump on her head is just that—a bump. There's no sign of concussion. Or anything else I can find to explain why she doesn't seem to recognize some very ordinary objects when they're presented to her. That is why you called me, isn't it? There's something wrong with her memory. Some kind of selective amnesia?”

“Not exactly,” Dallas hedged.

“If that's all you're going to say, I can't be any more help to you.” Adam headed for the door, medical bag in hand.

Dallas caught up to his friend on the porch. “I can't tell you any more right now.”

“Fine,” Adam said and kept walking.

Dallas let Adam get into his car before he finally came striding after him. He leaned down so he could see in the window of the low-slung sports car. “Do you think Angel is crazy?” he blurted.

“What do you mean? Clinically nuts?”

Dallas nodded curtly.

Adam brushed his thumbs across the black leather cover on the steering wheel. “That's hard to say without a psychological examination. Do you think she's crazy?”

“I don't know what to think.”

“To tell you the truth, I was more than a little surprised to find a woman—any woman—in your house. I didn't think you brought them here.”

“I don't,” Dallas said flatly. “Angel is different.”

“Where did you find her?”

“I rescued her from some cowboys who were giving her a hard time.”

“At least that's in character for you. Look,” Adam offered, “I can set up an appointment for Angel with a psychiatrist, if you like.”

“Not right now,” Dallas said. “Maybe later.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“I'll explain everything later,” Dallas promised. He stroked the sleek finish of the sports car. “Don't fall into any potholes with this baby car of yours on the way out.”

Adam grinned. “You're just jealous. Call me if you need me.”

“Sure.”

Dallas stood and watched until the dust settled, before he turned and walked back into the house. Angel was no longer lying on the sofa where he'd left her.

“Angel? Where are you?”

There was no response.

Dallas quickly began a search of the house, go
ing from room to room, slamming open doors, checking into closets and finding nothing.

At last he approached the bathroom and shoved open the door. There she stood, staring at him with startled blue eyes.

His breath caught in his chest. His heart skipped a beat. His mouth suddenly went dry.

She was wearing a different sort of underwear. The camisole top had been loosened where it laced up the front, and he could see the creamy swell of her breasts through the white laces. He watched a bead of water slide down her skin and dampen the cotton.

Below the waist she was wearing some kind of loose knee-length pants that were strictly puritanical. She quickly crossed one arm over her breasts and the other over the delta between her thighs. But it was far too late to keep his imagination from running wild.

“Why didn't you answer me?” he rasped.

“I didn't hear you. The water was running. I just wanted—needed—to rinse off some of the dust.”

“Go ahead,” he said. But instead of leaving, he stood there, staring at her.

Angel had seen that kind of hunger in a man's eyes in the past, but never before had she felt compelled to appease it. She wasn't sure exactly
what was happening to her. It was as though she were caught in another kind of time warp, one where each moment was held suspended, giving her the time to identify each and every thrilling sensation as it occurred. And equal time to become aware of Dallas's avid response to her slow but steady arousal.

Her breasts felt full and achy.

His eyes lowered and his gaze caused her nipples to harden.

Her mouth felt dry. It was hard to swallow.

His lips parted slightly, to ease breathing that had become harsh to the ear.

She pressed her thighs together, to hold on to the warmth and wetness that had mysteriously appeared between her legs.

His nostrils flared for the scent of her. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

She felt her body arching toward him, thrusting breasts and hips forward in a way that begged him to touch.

His lids lowered over lambent eyes. His body tensed, muscles tautening with barely restrained need.

Dallas was a man who appreciated beautiful women. But never had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted Angel. His hand reached out
and cupped her breast, and he had the satisfaction of hearing a groan of pleasure deep in her throat.

His thumb brushed across her nipple, creating a vivid peak beneath the cloth. “I can't believe this is really happening,” he murmured. “What force of nature brought you here?”

Angel came to her senses and took a step back. When Dallas started to reach for her again she warned, “I wouldn't do that if I were you. I've had to defend myself from forward men once or twice in the past. You wouldn't escape unscathed.”

Dallas throbbed, he was so aroused. But the hellion before him had made it plain he would be lucky to escape with his life if he tried touching her again.

“It seems a tease is still a tease whatever century she comes from,” he accused.

Angel had pushed reality away for a moment, but now it was back with a vengeance. Before her stood a very angry, very frustrated man. “I'm not a tease! I came in here
alone
to rinse off some of the trail dust. If you'll recall, you're the one who came barging in unannounced.”

“You didn't send me away,” he pointed out.

“You're right. That was a mistake I won't make again. I'll have your apology and you can go,” she said.

He swore under his breath. “When hell freezes over.”

They were at a stalemate.

It was plain from the look on Dallas's face that he didn't believe Angel was innocent of purposefully trying to entice him. But it was the truth. Angel had no explanation for her unusual behavior. Exactly what
had
happened, anyway? Was it possible the Texas Ranger had cast some sort of spell over her? Had something been invented in the twentieth century to aid in the seduction of innocent virgins? She shuddered at the thought.

“You're cold,” Dallas said, misinterpreting her reaction. He reached to grab a man-sized towel from the nearby rack, and she stepped back until she hit the tile wall. It wasn't nearly far enough.

“Keep your distance, Ranger, and we'll get along fine.”

A flash of irritation crossed his face. “I only thought you might want to dry off a little,” he said, extending the towel at arm's length.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him with exaggerated dignity. “You may leave now.”

Dallas had already turned his back when he realized that she had dismissed him. Perversely he wasn't about to let her have the last word. He stuck out his hand to catch the door before she could shut it in his face.

“I like that mole on your right breast,” he said.

Angel gasped. “You clunch! How dare you—”

“One day I'll wash it myself. With my tongue.”

He let go, and the door slammed in his face. Dallas grinned as he listened to the unique imprecations she muttered behind the door. She was stubborn, all right, and opinionated. She also had gumption. That didn't mean he was going to take any more guff from her. He was responsible for her, and by God she was going to do as she was told!

Angel leaned her forehead against the door, fistfuls of the towel clutched against her bosom. What an impossible man! How could he have mentioned something so personal? She couldn't stand him! He was horrible! Dealing with him was like being up the same tree as a grizzly. How could she be so attracted to someone so intolerable?

She sighed and turned to look at herself in the mirror. The problem was, sparks flew whenever she got near him. That was going to have to stop. She wasn't sure how she'd been propelled into the future. But she had business that needed finishing in the past.