Time and Again

empty tea cup. "But he putters around with flowers, too. When we were little he grew vegetables right outside the kitchen. It's practically all we ate, which is why I avoid them now."
    He tried to imagine it and simply couldn't. "What was it like growing up here?"
    "It seemed natural." She rose idly to poke at the fire, then sat on the couch beside him, forgetting for a moment how restless the storm was making her. "I guess I thought everyone lived like we did, until we went to the city and I saw the lights, the crowds, the buildings. For me, it was as if someone had broken open a kaleidoscope and handed me all the colors. We would always come back here, and that was fine." With a half yawn, she sank back into the cushions. "But I always wanted to get back to all that noise. Nothing changes much here, and that's nice, because you can always depend on it. But there's always something new in the city. I guess I like progress."
    "But you're here now."
    "A self-imposed penance, in a way."
    "For what?"
    She moved her shoulders. "It's a long story. What about you? Are you a city boy yearning for the peace of the country?"
    He glanced deliberately out the window. "No."
    She laughed and patted his hand. "So here we are, two city dwellers stuck in the wilds of the Northwest.
    Want to play cards?"
    His mood brightened instantly. "Poker?"
    "You're on."
    They rose at the same time, bumped, brushed. He took her arm automatically, then held on. He tensed,
    as she did. It wasn't possible to do otherwise. It was possible, barely, to prevent himself from lifting his other hand to her face. She'd done nothing to enhance it today. There was no trace of cosmetics. Her mouth, full, pouty, exciting, was naked. With an effort, he brought his eyes from it, and to hers.
    "You're very beautiful, Sunbeam."
    It hurt to breathe. She was terrified to move. "I told you not to call me that."
    "Sometimes it fits. I've always thought beauty was just an accident of genes or something accomplished through skill. You make me wonder."
    "You're a very strange man, Hornblower."
    He smiled a little. "You don't know the half of it." He stepped back. "We'd better play cards."
    "Good idea." She let out a quiet, relieved breath as she took the deck from a drawer. If she had a little time, alone, she might just figure out what it was about him that jolted her system. "Poker by firelight."
    She dropped onto the floor. "Now that's romance."
    He sat opposite her. "Is it?"
    "Prepare to lose."
    But he won, consistently, continually, until she began to watch him through narrowed eyes. For lack of anything else, they were playing for cookies, and his pile of chocolate chips kept growing.
    "You eat all those you're going to get fat."
    He merely smiled. "No, I won't. I have an excellent metabolism."
    "Yeah, I just bet you do." With a body like that, he'd have to. "Two pair, queens and fours."
    "Mmm." He set his cards down. "Full house, tens over fives."
    "Sonofa-" She broke off, scowling, as he raked in the chips. "Look, I don't want to sound like a sore loser, but you've won ten out of twelve hands."
    "Must be my lucky night." He picked up the cards and riffled them.
    "Or something."
    He merely lifted a brow at her tone. "Poker is as much a science as physics."
    She snatched up a cookie. "Just deal, Hornblower."
    "Are you going to eat your ante?"
    Miffed, she tossed it into the pot. "If I don't eat several times a day I get cranky."
    "Is that what's wrong with you?"
    "I'm basically a very nice person."
    "No, you're not." He grinned as he dealt the cards. "But I like you anyway."
    "I am nice," she insisted, keeping her face carefully bland when she spotted two aces in her hand. "Ask anybody-except my last two supervisors. Open for two."
    Jacob obliged her by adding his two cookies to the pot. He liked her this way-warily friendly, competitive, relaxed, but ready to pounce on any infraction. He supposed it didn't hurt that the firelight painted interesting shadows that played over those fabulous cheekbones. He checked himself-and his hand. This seemed as good a time as any to find out more about her.
    "What did you do, before you came here to decide to be a lawyer?"
    She made a face, then drew three cards. "I sold underwear. Ladies' lingerie, to be specific." She glanced up, waiting for the disdain, and was mollified when she didn't see it. "I have a drawerful of great stuff I got on discount."
    "Oh, really?" He thought about that for a moment, wondering just what her