The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (35 page)

Lia eyed the closed door of the exam room and, with a grimace, lay back. She wasn’t going anywhere, not with two military policemen in the hall to make sure she stayed where they’d put her. Lacing her fingers behind her head, she brought her knees up to rest her feet flat on the padded table and stared at the textured panels of the ceiling. As far as prisons went, the infirmary probably wasn’t that bad, but it was impossible to get comfortable on such a short surface.

Maybe it was deliberate. Wasn’t sleep deprivation an interrogation tactic? She wouldn’t put it past the colonel from hell. He’d badgered her unmercifully, accused her of being a spy, and had derided her when she’d tried to offer explanations for her presence. Then there was his reaction when she asked to be taken to the wormhole that would return her to Earth 2010. She’d thought the man was going to freeze her with his death stare and
that
gaze had been friendly compared to the way he’d looked at her when she’d asked about a particle accelerator.

She tried to ignore the sick feeling that blossomed in the pit of her stomach. Somewhere during her browbeating, Lia had accepted the illogical. The unbelievable. She didn’t have a head injury – she’d time travelled for real, and judging by the colonel’’s response to her questions, she was going to be stuck here. For ever. Her gulp was audible.

The sureness that she was in the future hadn’t come to her in some cataclysmic epiphany, but had crept in slowly. There were too many anomalies for it to be some fantasy of hers. Lia didn’t know anything about the military beyond what she’d seen on television or in the movies, but what she’d observed here was a chain of command that seemed accurate and army-speak that was foreign to her.

That had held true at the clinic, too. She didn’t know much about medicine and yet she’d listened to jargon-filled conversations between the doctors and nurses and watched them use some equipment that she’d never seen before.

Everywhere she looked, everywhere they’d taken her, things were familiar yet strange, but she could see an evolution of sorts. She’d always had a wild imagination, but it wasn’t this good. If this were really an illusion, there’d be things that didn’t make sense, but that wasn’t the case. Everything fitted. Everything.

Besides, normally, when she dreamed, she only had two senses engaged – sight and sound – but since she’d arrived here, all of them had been in play. She could smell the antiseptic of the clinic, she’d tasted the awful scrambled eggs they’d given her to eat this morning, and she could feel the stiff fabric of the olive-green pants they’d supplied her with after her shower. It was distinct, solid, and Lia had no choice except to believe she was in 2050, as they’d told her.

A coma would be much more comforting.

She swallowed the urge to whimper, afraid her guards would hear it. Being confined wasn’t a totally bad thing; it had given her time to think. To calm down.

If she didn’t end up in prison as a spy, maybe this era wouldn’t be so bad. They’d probably solved the problems plaguing her time like global warming and clean water. Maybe no one went hungry any more and everyone had health insurance. This time might be great. Although what was this coalition the colonel had accused her of belonging to? That didn’t sound too good.

Lia bit her lower lip. She was worrying about nothing. Society had had forty years to advance – it
had
to be better now. She’d be fine once she got out of this treatment room, explored her new world, and saw how wonderful it was.

As if in answer to her thought, the door opened. Slowly she sat up and looked into the stony faces of the two MPs. “You, come with us,” the older of them ordered.

Her mouth dry, Lia asked, “Why? Where are you taking me?”

“Ma’am,” the other one said, “please come with us.”

Despite the politeness, his tone was clear – it wasn’t a suggestion. If she didn’t go along voluntarily, they’d haul her out of here. Lia slid off the table on to her feet and started towards them.

“Take your bag, ma’am.”

She detoured to grab it off the chair and clutched it tightly. Were they putting her in a real jail? Is that why they wanted her to bring the bag that contained her clothes?

Each man grasped an arm as she reached them and escorted her down the hall. Damn, she hoped they weren’t returning her to that colonel. He was terrifying, and she wasn’t ready to deal with him again. Not yet.

Lia tried to ignore the way the doctors and nurses stared as she went by. To her surprise, she felt shame. It was stupid, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but realizing that didn’t lessen the emotion.

They reached the front of the clinic and her guards put her in the waiting room near the entrance. “Have a seat,” the polite one told her and Lia took the first chair she reached.

The MPs flanked her on either side, positioning themselves so that they could watch her, the door to the infirmary and the clinic itself. There was only one other person present, a young man who sat behind a half-wall with a counter on top of it. The check-in area, Lia guessed. He gaped at her for a moment before looking away.

Her nerves pulled taut as the silence lengthened. It was obvious they were waiting, but she had no idea why and bit her tongue to keep from asking. They wouldn’t tell her anything.

With the exit in view, the idea of making a run for it was almost too tempting to resist. Almost. Luckily, she was smart enough to know she wouldn’t get far. Lia couldn’t outrun her guards – she was only five and a half feet tall and they were much bigger. And they had guns. That colonel had probably told them to shoot her if she tried to escape. Even if she somehow did get free, she had nowhere to go and nobody to help her.

Clasping her small canvas duffle bag, she wished there were a pair of ruby slippers inside that would take her home again. That would make everything much easier.

Her stomach was churning when the door to the infirmary opened. Almost afraid to look, Lia glanced over and did a double take. She’d never before, not in her entire life, seen a man this beautiful – not even in the movies. Her tension left her like an ebbing wave. “Wow, ” she mouthed silently.

He was dressed in camouflage fatigue pants, boots and an olive-green T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and muscular chest. Imprinted on the left side of the shirt was the insignia for a sergeant – she’d watched enough TV to identify that – and although she didn’t see a holster or any other sign of a weapon, she’d bet he was armed.

One of the MPs went to talk to him, but Lia couldn’t stop staring at Sgt Gorgeous long enough to pay attention to what was being said. He wore his dark hair short – no surprise given his military affiliation – had a strong chin with the slightest hint of a cleft, and when he smiled at something the MP said, she saw that his teeth were perfect.

His golden skin suggested a mixed heritage, but she couldn’t guess what it was and she didn’t care. Vivid blue eyes met hers for an instant and a shiver of awareness went through her. He looked away and she was left feeling bereft.

As stunning as he was, Lia wouldn’t use the word “pretty” – he was too rugged, too sharp-edged for that – and damned if that didn’t make him even more appealing. Who was this guy?

When the men finished their conversation, the two MPs left and the newcomer walked over to her. Sgt Gorgeous smiled and held out his hand. A small shock went through her at the contact, but she savoured the warmth of his fingers. As they shook hands, he said, “Ophelia—”

That knocked her out of her stupor and she interrupted him. “Lia. No one uses Ophelia more than once, got it?”

His grin widened and she forgot to breathe. “Understood.” He released her hand. “I’m Troll Maglaya. I’m assuming escort duty from Dunn and Gomez.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in because she was lost in his deep voice and the way it seemed to swirl over her body and caress it. This man was potent. “Troll? Seriously? That’s what your mom calls you?”

He shook his head. “No, she calls me Chris. To everyone here I’m Troll, understood?”

Lia nodded. “Got it . . . Troll.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes and smiled. “Should I be insulted that I’ve been downgraded to a single guard?”

“You could take it as a compliment. You’ve gone from two MPs to a Special Ops soldier, and one of us is like a team of twenty regular troops.”

His wink had her heart picking up speed. Oh, my God, she’d flirted with him and he’d flirted back. It was probably instinctual for a guy who looked like him and not a big deal, but the instant man-woman attraction she felt had Lia alarmed. “What happens to me now?” she asked and managed to sound normal.

“I thought we’d get you settled and then have some lunch. You must be hungry.”

“Settled?” Her fingers tightened around the canvas. “In a jail cell?”

“Nah,” Troll said easily, “not unless you insist on it.”

She felt a flutter in her belly and had to remind herself not to fall for this. Maybe some people underestimated him because of his appearance, but she wouldn’t be one of them. She didn’t know a lot about the military, but Lia was aware of how hard it was to become a Green Beret or whatever they were called. Troll might be showing her his nice-guy facade, but below the surface he was formidable and she needed to remember that even if she was wondering how his lips would feel against hers.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

With a nod, Lia stood. She expected him to grab her arm the way the MPs had, but instead Troll put his hand at the small of her back. Heat unfurled, running through her body like a jolt from an electrical wire. Definitely potent, and he had manners – he held the door for her.

Lia stopped and gawked as soon as she stepped outside. Last night it had been dark before the MPs had gotten her to the bottom of the pyramid and she’d hardly seen anything of the city. She looked now, fascinated by her surroundings. There were wide, graceful walkways and plenty of grass, plants and flowers. Most of the buildings were marble and stunningly beautiful. Not quite in the same league with Sgt Gorgeous, but still worth a second glance. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Troll said, “it’s something, isn’t it? It’s too bad the aliens that built the city were long gone before we got here. It would have been interesting to meet them.”

“Aliens?”

“Yep.” Instead of explaining, his hand pressed lightly against her back, urging her forwards. “The mess hall closes in less than half an hour, so we need to move.”

Lia walked. “This planet is outside Earth’s solar system?”

“It is. I could give you coordinates, but no one from your era would get it unless they were an astronomer.” He shrugged. “Most of the people in this time don’t get it either and it’s taught in school.”

Two things occurred to her simultaneously. First, the colonel from hell, or one of his minions of darkness, must have filled Troll in on what she’d said. Second, Sgt Gorgeous was talking as if he thought she had time travelled – or at least he was going along with it. Lia pulled him to a halt and, looking into his eyes, she asked, “You believe me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t need to ask what she was talking about.

There was nothing flirty in his gaze now and nothing shifty either. That didn’t mean he wasn’t lying, of course, but she needed someone to believe her and she wanted it to be him. “I want to go home. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know how I can help you.”

“I need a wormhole or an atom smasher.” Lia rapidly filled him in on what she thought had happened last night and he listened to her. Really listened.

“We don’t have either thing here, but even if we did, have you considered that it might take you somewhere else besides your own time?”

No, she hadn’t, but . . . “The odds against the first one opening were astronomical, and the chances of a second one appearing that went somewhere else must be next to impossible.” That was logical, wasn’t it? “To be honest, I was kind of hoping that in this time you’d mastered how to summon and use wormholes, but since you haven’t, I guess I’m stuck here.”

She thought she’d done a good job of concealing her emotions, but Troll’s response told her she was wrong.

“I know you’re scared – who wouldn’t be? – and I know it’s tough to leave your family behind, but I’ve never heard anything about wormholes being created or used.”

“I don’t have any family left,” Lia told him and ignored the stab around her heart. The loss still hurt years later, but she’d become used to the hollow feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. After a pause, he added, “You know, if you give it a chance, you might like 2050 and I’ll do what I can to help you adjust.” He winked at her again, and, inclining his head, said, “Come on. I’m starving and don’t want to miss mess.”

Lia didn’t move. “Why do you believe me when your colonel doesn’t?”

Troll shrugged. “Maybe I’m more open-minded than the Big Chill, or maybe I have more imagination. Or maybe I have some sixth sense that he doesn’t.”

“Sixth sense?” Something about the way he’d said that caught her attention. “Do you mean you’re psychic?”

His lips curved slightly. “If that were the case, don’t you think my nickname would be the Prophet? That isn’t something my team would let slide.” Troll took her hand and, lacing their fingers, began to walk.

“If they were aware of it,” she murmured, but when he simply raised his brows and smirked, Lia had to laugh at herself. She was grasping at shadows, probably because her leap forwards was fresh in her thoughts.