Time and Again

where he was, when he was, the more he was certain that Cal needed to be brought to his senses and taken home.
    Some sort of space fever, Jacob decided. His brother had suffered a shock, and the woman-as some women had throughout time-had taken advantage of him. When he approached Cal logically, they would get into the ship and go home.
    In the meantime, he would take the opportunity to study and record at least this small section of the world.
    At the edge of the forest, he paused. It was colder today, and he sincerely regretted the lack of warmer clothing. Gray clouds, plump with snow, had drifted in to cover the sun. In the gloomy light he watched Sunny lifting logs from the woodpile at the rear of the cabin. She was singing in a powerfully erotic voice about a man who had gotten away. She didn't hear his approach, and she continued to sing and stack wood in her arms.
    "Excuse me."
    With a yelp, she jumped back, sending the split logs flying. One landed hard on her booted foot, and she swore roundly and hopped up and down. "Damn it! Damn, damn, damn! What's wrong with you?"
    Clasping her wounded foot with one hand, she braced the other on the cabin wall.
    "Nothing." He couldn't help the grin. "I think there's something wrong with you. Does it hurt?"
    "No, it feels great. I live for pain." She gritted her teeth as she set her foot gingerly back on the ground.
    "Where did you come from?"
    "Philadelphia." She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you mean now?" With a jerk of his thumb, he said, "That way." He paused to glance at the logs scattered in the snow. "Want some help?"
    "No." Favoring her foot, she crouched down to retrieve the logs. All the while, she watched him carefully, braced for any move he might make. "Do you know why I'm here, Hornblower? For peace and solitude." She blew the hair out of her eyes as she looked up at him. "Do you understand the concepts?"
    "Yes."
    "Good." Turning, she limped back into the cabin, letting the door slam shut behind her. After dumping the logs in the woodbox, she came back to the kitchen. And swore. "What now?"
    "I left my bag." He sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"
    With a sound of disgust, she darted to the toaster, banging on it until the smoking, blackened bread popped up. "This stupid thing sticks."
    To get a better look at the fascinating little device, he leaned over her shoulder. "Doesn't look appetizing.
    "It's fine." To prove it, she bit into the toast. Her scent drifted to him over the smoke. His instant reaction annoyed him, but pride had him resisting the instinctive move away. "Are you always so stubborn?"
    "Yes."
    "And so unfriendly?"
    "No."
    She turned and was immediately made aware of the miscalculation. He didn't move aside, as she had expected. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his palms against the counter and casually caging her between his arms. There was nothing she detested more than being outmaneuvered.
    "Back off, Hornblower."
    "No." He did shift, but closer. As on their first meeting, their thighs rubbed, but there was nothing loverlike in the connection. "You interest me, Sunbeam."
    "Sunny," she said automatically. "Don't call me Sunbeam."
    "You interest me," he repeated. "Do you consider yourself an average woman of your time?"
    Baffled, she shook her head. "What kind of a question is that?"
    She had dozens of shades in her hair, from pale white to dark honey. He was sorry he had noticed.
    "One that requires a simple answer. Do you?"
    "No. No one likes to be considered average. Now would you-"
    "You're beautiful." His gaze skimmed over her face, deliberately, a test of himself and his endurance.
    "But that's merely physical. What do you think separates you from the average?"
    "What are you doing, a thesis?" She lifted a hand to shove him away and met the solid wall of his chest.
    She could feel his heartbeat there, slow and steady.
    "More or less." He smiled. He was disturbing her at a very basic level, and he found it intensely satisfying.
    It was his eyes, Sunny thought. Even if the man was unhinged, he had the most incredibly hypnotic eyes.
    "I thought you dealt with planets and stars, not with people."
    "People live on planets."
    "At least this one."
    He smiled again. "At least. You could consider this a personal interest."
    She wanted to shift but realized that would only make the contact more intimate. Cursing him, she kept her voice and her gaze level. "I don't want your personal interest, Jacob."
    "J.T." He felt the quick tremor from her