Absolutely, Positively

hung it on the back of a chair. He sat down at the table and pulled the box toward him. He glanced up and frowned at the odd apparatus that hung from the ceiling. “How do I turn on the light?”

    “Red button in the center of the table.”

    Harry studied the small panel of buttons embedded in the steel table. He touched the red one experimentally. An even, nonglaring light struck the surface of the table. “Nice.”

    “Thanks.” Molly stepped back to survey her flower arrangement. “Well, that takes care of the roses. They really are wonderful, Harry. I can't recall the last time anyone brought me flowers. Thank you.”

    Harry made a mental note to thank Josh for reminding him of the old-fashioned gesture. “You're welcome.”

    “If you'll excuse me, I'll get my purse. Be back in a minute.”

    “Take your time.” Harry leaned forward to examine the spring mechanism that had been used to elevate the pistol platform.

    He heard Molly leave the kitchen. Her high-heeled sandals sounded in the hall. She would be a few minutes, he decided. He unfastened his cuffs, rolled up his sleeves, and began to dismantle the platform assembly.

    Molly returned a short time later. “Harry? I'm ready.”

    Harry did not look up from his work. He had the spring out of the box. The components of the platform assembly were spread out on the table in front of him. “I'll just be a couple of minutes here.”

    “Hmm,” Molly said.

    The artichoke and sun-dried tomato pizza Molly selected from the patented Abberwick Food Storage and Preparation Machine emerged forty minutes later. She chose a sturdy Washington State cabernet from the Abberwick Automated Wine Cellar to go with it. After some additional consideration, she ordered romaine lettuce and blue-cheese salads from the produce section of the Food Storage and Preparation Machine. The device sang softly to itself as it rinsed the fresh romaine and spun it dry.

    On a whim, Molly decided to arrange the chunks of blue cheese on the lettuce leaves by hand. The decision to add the final touch with her very own fingers probably had something to do with having a man in the house, she thought. Some primal female urge, no doubt. It would almost certainly disappear by morning, she assured herself. Such impulses never lasted long.

    By the time she was ready to serve, Harry had all the various parts of the black box contraption spread out across the kitchen table. There was no room for the plates and glasses.

    Molly covertly studied Harry's forbidding features as he bent over the table. He was fully engaged in the process of dissecting the pistol assembly. The image of an alchemist at work in his laboratory popped into her mind once more. She could literally feel the intensity of his concentration.

    She wondered if Harry made love with the same degree of complete, all-consuming attention. The thought made her blush furiously.

    Fortunately, Harry did not notice the pink in her cheeks. He was occupied with a small, battery-powered motor he had removed from the box.

    Molly pressed a button. A second stainless-steel surface unsealed itself from the wall and unfolded next to the one Harry was using as a workbench. It locked itself into position.

    “Well? What do you think?” Molly set the pizza and salads down on the new table.

    Harry looked up at last. He blinked as though to clear his brain. Then he glanced at the pizza and salads.

    “What's that?”

    “Dinner,” Molly announced cheerfully. “I don't know about you, but I'm starving.”

    Acute alarm flickered in Harry's amber eyes. “Hell.” He scowled at his watch. “I've got reservations for seven-thirty.”

    “Youhad reservations for seven-thirty.” Molly handed him a napkin. “I'm sure they gave our table to someone else sometime after eight o'clock.”

    Harry groaned. “I don't believe this. Sorry.” He started to rise from the chair. “I'll give the restaurant a call and see if they can fit us in at eight-thirty.”

    “Forget it. The pizza's ready now and I'm hungry. Hope you like artichoke and sun-dried tomatoes. I felt like experimenting tonight.”

    Harry gazed at the pizza with masculine appreciation. “You made this?”

    “Sort of. I chose the ingredients.” Molly punched a button to produce the flatware from a drawer concealed beneath the table. “The Abberwick Food Storage and Preparation Machine did all the work. Except for sprinkling the blue cheese on the salads,” she added