Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

missing.”
    “It’s not safe. Elizabeth...”
    “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”
    “That’s not the point.”
    “I am actually,” she said, leaning one elbow on the windowsill. “Afraid of heights. Not really in the ‘oh, I’m gonna fall’ kind of way. More in the ‘oh, I sort of want to jump’ kind of way. Nutty, huh?”
    “Yes, now come inside.”
    “All right, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” she said, putting a leg inside. Simon held her forearm and tried not to look at the smooth skin of her thigh as she clambered back into the room. “I’m in. Happy?”
    “Thank you,” he said. They stood awkwardly for a moment. Simon realized he was still holding onto her and quickly let go. Needing something, anything to purge himself of the image of her very shapely leg, he gave the fire escape a cursory inspection. “Rusted, shoddy construction. I should speak to the management about it.”
    He stayed looking out the window for a long moment, before summoning the courage to turn and face her again. The pause did him little good. She looked as charming as ever.
    “Perhaps we should go to sleep,” he suggested. “It has been a trying day.”
    “Not really tired anymore. Bath gave me a second wind.”
    “Did it?” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as anxious as he felt. He looked around the room, desperate for a distraction.
    “How about a game of cards?” she asked.
    “Since you insisted on wasting our money on them,” he said with a wry smile. “I suppose we should put them to use.” He gestured toward the table.
    She walked over to the bureau and picked up the pack. “A deck of cards is one of life’s necessities.”
    He wasn’t sure about that, but at least they were a safe diversion.
    She sat down opposite him and opened the deck. “So, blackjack or strip poker?”
    Simon nearly choked as libidinous images flashed through his mind. With the little she had on, it would only take a hand or two. He massaged his temple, trying to rub the thoughts away.
    Elizabeth laughed. “I’m only joking. You do know how to play cards, don’t you?”
    “Of course. I went to boarding school.”
    “Of course,” she said with a smile. Settling the cards in her hand, she shuffled them once, then again with a bit more flair. A waterfall shuffle and a skilled fan were followed by a few more difficult flourishes. He arched a questioning brow, surprised and impressed.
    She shrugged and performed another impressive flourish. “Daddy taught me well.”
    She cut the cards one-handed, but the top stack slipped. Her forehead wrinkled in a thoroughly endearing scowl. “Damn hands,” she muttered. She held them out, palms up and frowned at them. “Too small.”
    Simon had always secretly admired her hands. They were small, even for a woman her size, but he thought they suited her well. They were delicate, almost fragile, but there was strength there too. In his weaker moments, he’d wondered what it would be like to hold them.
    “Daddy said I could have been one hell of a gambler if it weren’t for them,” she said with a wistful smile. “But there’s one thing a card player never has. A small hand.”
    “Your father was a gambler?” Simon asked. She’d never offered much about her family.
    “Yup. Just not a very good one.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She smiled, but there was sadness behind her eyes.
    “Don’t be,” she said. “He was good at the important things.” She set the deck down on the table. “How about a little gin rummy?”
    Simon wanted to know more, but it was clear she’d put an end to the subject. “Gin it is.”
    A comfortable ease in companionship and gentle sparring made the hours slip by without notice, until, in the end, Elizabeth and fatigue finally won out.
    They removed their rings and set them on the nightstands. Smitty had warned them that the fake gold would turn their fingers green if they didn’t. The tension from earlier in the night returned, as they slid under the covers, each too aware of the other.
    Once Elizabeth was asleep, Simon rolled onto his side and saw the moonlight reflect off the fake gold of his wedding band. It was eerily familiar somehow. A ring caught in the moonlight. He closed his eyes and tried to place the memory, but each time he almost grasped it, it slipped away. The uneasy feeling lingered and carried him to a night of fitful sleep and taunting dreams.
    * * *
    The next day was spent much as the first, in a vain