“It may be one on me, too. I’ve wondered if, once I get back, anyone will believe me.”
A thought struck her that was both absurd and fascinating. “Maybe I could do a time capsule. I could write everything down, put in a few interesting or pertinent items and seal it up. We could bury it—I don’t know, down by the stream, perhaps. When you got back you could dig it all up.”
“A time capsule.” The idea appealed to him, not just scientifically, but personally. Wouldn’t it mean he would still have something of her, even when they were separated by centuries? He would need that, he realized, the solid proof of not only where he had been but that she had existed. “I can run it through the computer, make sure we don’t put it somewhere that’s going to be covered by a building or a landslide or some such thing.”
“Good.” She picked up a pad from the counter and began to scribble.
“What are you doing?”
“Making notes.” She squinted at her own writing and wished she had her glasses. “We’ll need to write everything down, of course, starting with you and your ship. What else should we put in it?” she wondered, tapping the pencil against the pad. “A newspaper, I think, and a picture would be good. We may have to drive back into town and find one of those little booths that take pictures. No, I’ll buy a Polaroid camera.” She scribbled faster. “That way we can take pictures here, in the house or right outside. Then we’ll need some personal things...” She fingered the thin gold chain at her throat. “Maybe some basic household items.”
“You’re being a scientist.” He took her by the waist and drew her slowly, unerringly, against him. “I find that very exciting.”
“That’s silly.”
But it didn’t seem silly at all when he lowered his head and began to nibble at her neck. She felt the floor tilt beneath her feet.
“Cal...”
“Hmm?” He journeyed up to a small, vulnerable spot just behind her ear.
“I wanted to...” The pad slipped out of her hand and landed on the floor at their feet.
“To what?” Quick and clever, his fingers loosened the knot at her waist. “Tonight you can have anything you want.”
“You.” She sighed as her robe slid off her shoulders. “Just you.”
“That’s the easy part.” More than willing to oblige, he braced her against the counter. A hundred erotic ideas swam through his mind. He was going to see to it that neither of them thought the same way about this cozy little kitchen again. The streaks of pink along her skin stopped him.
“What’s all this?” Curious, he ran a finger over the swell of her breast, then shifted his hand to his chin. “I’ve scratched you.”
“What?” She was already floating an inch off the floor, and she was less than willing to touch down.
“I haven’t shaved in days.” Annoyed with himself, he bent to lightly kiss the skin he’d irritated earlier. “You’re so soft.”
“I didn’t feel a thing.” She reached for him again, but he only kissed her hair.
“There’s only one thing to do.”
“I know.” She ran her hands up his muscled back.
With a laugh, he hugged her tighter. “That’s two things.” He scooped her up again for no other reason than that it felt wonderful.
“You don’t have to carry me.” But she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I can walk to bed.”
“Maybe, but we’d better use the bathroom for this.”
“The bathroom?”
“I’m going to have to deal with that nasty-looking device,” he told her as he started up the stairs. “And you’re going to walk me through it so I don’t cut my throat.”
Nasty-looking device? She tried to put it all together as he carried her upstairs. “Don’t you know how to use a razor?”
“We’re civilized where I come from. All instruments of torture have been outlawed.”
“Is that so?” She waited until he set her down again. “I suppose that means women don’t wear high heels or control-top panty hose. Never mind,” she said when he opened his mouth. “I think this could become a very philosophical discussion, and it’s much too late.” Opening the linen closet, she took out the razor and the shaving cream. “Here you go.”
“Right.” He looked at the tools in his hand with a kind of resigned dread. What a man did for his woman. “Just how do I go about this?”