Never Love A Stranger Part 5

"Okay," she said. "You've convinced me. Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here. Just let me get some clothes--"

He caught her elbow. "Annie, we don't have time for you to pack a great many items. Do you own a weapon'"

"You mean a gun' No."

"That is unfortunate. Is there any way of obtaining one'"

"I don't think so. I'd have to get a license, I think. It would take quite a bit of time. There's a waiting

period or something. And I don't have a clue how to handle a gun, anyway."

James sighed. "I had been given to understand your era was riddled with violence."

"Less so than yours, apparently," she said, not bothering to keep the acid out of her tone.

"Perhaps you are right," he admitted. "Very well. Bring nothing but necessities and take no more than

five minutes to get ready."

She remembered the woman who'd aimed the gun at them, that eerie flash of light, and the burn mark on her car, and nodded. "Okay. And maybe we'd better take Steve's car. My other car, I mean. Someone's bound to see that weird burn mark and wonder about it. Anyway, once the cops find that green sedan and a.n.a.lyze it, they'll be looking for a car with sc.r.a.pe marks and paint that matches the other car's damage. Hit and run is a felony, you know."

"A felony' What is a felony'"

"Bad news," Annie said succinctly.

"Something to be avoided, then. I see. At any rate, the Bureau will be on the lookout for the car they have already seen us in. Driving another car may help confuse them."

Annie nodded as she headed up the stairs with James on her heels. "But where do you want to go' A hotel'"

"Somewhere safe. The more public the better. They are reluctant to pursue me in public, because it raises questions that cannot be answered. That is why she waited until we were alone on that deserted road, rather than attempting to capture me in the mall."

Annie thought for a long moment, then nodded grimly. "I think I may know just the place."

Kay's condo was dark when they entered. Turning on the light didn't help much. The condo was decorated in a very modern style, with black leather-upholstered chairs, dark tables, and a charcoal-gray carpet. The living room was almost painfully clean, in sharp contrast to the cheerful clutter of Annie's house. There was no dust to be seen on any surface, and surprisingly little indication that a baby lived here. Annie stepped inside, closed the door, and carefully locked and bolted it.

"We should be safe enough here," she said. "There's a doorman. He won't let strangers inside the building. Are you sure no one followed us'"

James gazed around at his new surroundings with interest. "Absolutely. I observed the road most carefully." Majestic and graceful as a lion, he paced across the living room carpet and observed the framed photographs on the mantel. After a moment's study he picked up one depicting a slim, laughing woman with long auburn hair. "This is you."

"Yes. That's me in college. Kay has been my best friend since then."

"You have hardly changed at all."

Annie shrugged. She knew she'd changed a great deal in the ten years since she'd graduated from college, but most of the changes were internal. "Thanks."

"It was not a compliment, merely an observation of fact." He placed the photo back on the mantel and picked up a silver-framed one, frowning slightly. "Who is this'"

Annie walked over and looked at it. "That's a new one. It's her son, Clark."

"Clark'"

"Clark Nicholas Sterling. A big name for such a little guy. I swear, she takes enough pictures of that kid to keep the film industry in business single handedly." James' eyes narrowed as he stared at her. For a long moment he seemed struck dumb. At last he said, "She has a baby'"

"Yeah. He was kind of an accident, and she doesn't have much contact with Clark's father, but she adores Clark. He's named after me."

"After you'"

"Clark was my maiden name," Annie explained. She looked at the picture, and a faint, wistful smile curved her mouth. "He's cute, isn't he'"

She was abruptly aware that her expression and tone had given away more than she intended. James was studying her curiously. She turned and walked away hastily, plopping down on the couch.

"Annie," he said quietly.

"What'"

"Why don't you have children'"

She crossed her arms and glared up at him defensively. "Maybe in the future everyone uses petri dishes, but here it takes a man to sire a baby."

"But you were married."

His gentle concern slashed at old, half-closed wounds. She blinked hard. "We didn't get around to

having children. I thought--" She paused, then said in a hoa.r.s.e voice, "I thought we had forever. I guess I was wrong."

"I am sorry."

"It's all right." Annie stood up briskly, brus.h.i.+ng at her cheeks and hoping he didn't see the hasty motion. "I'd better go find Oscar."

"Who'"

"Kay's cat." She strode quickly from the room, finding Oscar exactly where she expected him. The huge gray cat was a creature of habit, and at this time of day he was invariably in the study, curled up on Kay's black leather office chair. He opened an eye, looked at her, and purred.

"Hi, Oscar," she said, giving his head an affectionate rub. She had never been a cat person, but Oscar wasn't merely a cat--he was better company than most people, if not a fabulous conversationalist. He lifted his head and rubbed against her hand, rumbling contentedly. Then he stiffened, his unblinking green eyes fixed on the door.

Annie saw that James had followed her. The cat stood up in his chair and regarded him for a long moment. Then he did something Annie had never seen him do before. The hair on his back lifted, his tail puffed out, and he hissed. A second later he had leapt from the chair and raced from the room.

James watched the cat flee down the hall. "It appears," he remarked, "that Oscar does not care for me."

Annie frowned and walked over to stand next to him. She was in time to see Oscar's fluffed-out tail disappearing around the corner. "I've never seen him act like that before. Oscar is a pretty easygoing cat. He likes everyone."

"He doesn't like me."

"There's obviously something different about you. Is it possible he knows you're from the future'"

"I don't see how he could know that."

"Cats know a lot more than most people give them credit for."

James shrugged. "Perhaps he will grow to like me."

"I'm sure he will. You're very likable, James."

For a long moment James stared into her eyes. Slowly his hand came up to cup her cheek. Despite his size, his hand was soft and warm and infinitely gentle. She s.h.i.+vered at the feel of his skin against hers. He bent slowly and brushed his lips across her other cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered.

A bit bewildered by his reaction to what was really just a simple, casually uttered compliment, Annie blinked. "For what'"

"No one has ever called me likable before."

Overcome with sympathy, she reached up and gripped his hand. "I don't suppose slaves get a lot of compliments."

"No," he agreed dryly. "They don't."

"James'"

"Mmm'" "Were you'were you really a slave'"

Her hesitant question seemed to break the spell. He dropped his hand from her cheek and stepped back. "Yes," he answered in a flat voice. "I belonged to a family for many years. I raised their children and cleaned their home, and never received grat.i.tude, affection, or monetary compensation in return. I was not a person. I was merely property."

His features were set in proud, defiant lines, as if he expected her to suddenly order him to clean the house and cook dinner. As if the knowledge that he had once been a slave would change the way she looked at him. She felt the need to offer rea.s.surance.

"Under our laws, people cannot be property," she said. He gave her a wry smile that did not touch his eyes. "The difficulty lies in defining the term people," he said. "I don't understand." "Never mind." James turned and headed for the kitchen, evidently dismissing the subject in favor of the topic that was nearest and dearest to his heart. "What do you want for lunch'" * * * * James made serious inroads into the baloney in the refrigerator, while Annie contented herself with a bowl of tomato soup. After lunch, she wandered back to Kay's study looking for something to read. She rubbed Oscar's ears while she studied the heavily laden bookshelves. She and Kay did not have similar reading habits. Annie liked Thomas Hardy, Charles d.i.c.kens, and Jane Austen. When Kay wasn't slogging her way through medical journals, she preferred romance novels with t.i.tles like Pa.s.sion's Flame, with covers that depicted muscular, bare-chested men holding women clad in gorgeous long gowns hiked halfway up their thighs. She also had a lot of paperback science fiction.

After some internal debate, Annie picked up one of the less steamy-looking romance novels and walked back to the living room. She wasn't sure she wanted to read anything too steamy with James around. The last thing she needed was s.e.xy thoughts about James popping into her head.

Any more s.e.xy thoughts, she amended honestly.

James was looking over the photos on the mantel again. "This is another picture of you," he said as she walked back into the room. Annie glanced at the photo, seeing herself in a long white dress, her reddish hair twisted up and hidden beneath a gossamer veil. "Yeah, that's me and Steve when we got married. That's Kay beside me. She was my maid of honor." "Maid of honor'" "She had a special place in my wedding ceremony," Annie translated. "She is important to you, then'" Annie nodded as she began absently thumbing through the book. "Best friends forever," she said.

"And the man was your husband'"

Annie nodded again. She didn't want to look at the photo too closely. She was afraid she would disgrace herself by crying.

James regarded the picture thoughtfully. "He looks pleased." "I told you, we were happy together."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to be married." Annie looked up, seeing an oddly wistful expression on his features. Some small part of her was relieved to know he had never been married, that there wasn't a woman waiting for him in some other time and place. Then she wondered why it mattered to her. "Kay has some photo alb.u.ms in the study," she said. "If you want to see some more photos of us, I'll get them." James nodded. "Please." She walked back to the study, not surprised to find the alb.u.ms neatly organized by date, and yanked out a few. In the living room, she settled down on the couch, and James sat next to her. "This is us in college," she said, opening the first alb.u.m. "Kay was a lot more serious than I was. I partied all the time and took the easiest courses I could find. I always told Kay she worked too hard, but if you want to be a doctor I guess you have to work for it." James studied the photo. Annie looked at it too, seeing that she really had looked much the same then as she did now, tall and slender with extremely long legs that she had displayed in excessively short shorts and miniskirts. Kay, who was barely five foot three, had always been wildly envious of her legs. "Kay always said I got the legs and she got the brains," she said, grinning.

James frowned. "I do not know you that well, Annie, but you seem quite intelligent." "Thanks. I'm not sure Kay's really any smarter than I am, just a whole lot more determined. She has one h.e.l.l of a work ethic. From the time she was ten she knew she wanted to be a doctor. Me, I had a hard time making up my mind." "What did you want to do'" Annie hesitated for a long moment, staring at the photo of the girl she had once been. "I wanted to write poetry, actually." "Poetry'" "Yeah." She grinned wryly. "Pretty dumb, I know. n.o.body makes a living writing poetry, after all." James looked intrigued. "Did you actually write some'" Annie nodded. "In fact, I actually managed to get a few poems published. But it obviously wasn't a way I could support myself. Most of the poetry journals pay you in copies of the magazine instead of money.

You can't pay your rent with magazines. So after college I started working for an insurance company." Instead of writing poetry, she reviewed insurance applications day in and day out. It wasn't glamorous, or even particularly interesting, but it did pay the bills. She realized with a shock she hadn't written any poetry in nearly ten years.

She lived a peaceful, boring, suburban existence. And yet she had been happy until Steve died.

James flipped through the alb.u.m, glancing at photos that depicted her. He stopped at a photo of her at a frat party and tapped on the picture with a blunt fingertip. "What is that peculiar hat'"

"It's not a hat. It's a lampshade."

"A lampshade'" James looked up, stared thoughtfully at the lamp on the end table, then glanced back at her. "Why would you put a lampshade on your head'"

"It's an old cliche, all right' I just wanted everyone to know I was a party animal."

"A party animal'"

"You know, someone who spends all her time partying. Someone who's a lot of fun."

James studied her for a long moment. "You do not seem like a party animal to me."

"So I'm not much fun, huh' Thanks a lot."

"I did not intend to insult you. I simply think you are a rather subdued person."

Annie felt annoyance bubbling up. "Maybe I am now," she said through tightly compressed lips, "but

I've been through h.e.l.l in the past year. Before Steve died, I--"

She was embarra.s.sed to hear her voice break. James shot her a typically masculine expression of alarm