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her through the restaurant, watching her hairswing back and forth hypnotically as she walked.

The sun was beginning to dip behind themountains to the west, a sign that the day was nearly done and itwas time to return to their island hideaway, but Hugh was hesitantto do so. Much had occurred between them in the hours since theirdeparture that morning. They had moved from anger and wariness tofriendship. They had gone from an arm’s length to the warmth ofSorcha’s body pressed against him as she held his arm. They hadchanged the rules for the behavior that guided them, allowing forflirtation, for touch, and his fingers already itched to do so.

It wasn’t his habit to care so deeply for awoman, to like her so well. Hugh’s past relationships had beendistant and oddly professional. He’d kept an occasional mistressbut had found ample company among the ladies at court; each hadsought to gain something, whether it be wealth or notoriety, fromhim. There had never been a more serious flirtation, nor had heseriously courted a woman with intent of marriage. In his time andin his position, marriage was a business, not a romance, and atsome point in his life, Hugh would have approached it as such.

Of course, that might have been why theirmourning period was more unemotional and methodical as well. Heknew men and women alike who might have declared love for theirmistress or lover, but could think of none, including his uncle andaunt, who claimed it for their spouse.

He had not ever beforeexperienced, nor could he think of another who had admitted toexperiencing, anything like this overwhelming desire he felt forSorcha. It was provocative and frustrating, fraught with bothfreedom and possessiveness. His arms ached to enfold her and hisbody yearned to be encompassed by hers. Never in all his days hadhe simply wanted so profoundly what could not truly be his.

How was he to go back to that quiet housewith her, with nothing to think about but her? How he could bearwanting her so, flirting and teasing, knowing all the while thatanother man held her heart?

Chapter 25

Day Five

“Wow. No wonder they want to keep thissecret,” Sorcha said, setting aside the binder filled with theinformation Danny had printed for them the previous day as Hughlooked up from the stack of old newspapers he had been working hisway through while she read through the technical report.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh beforelifting her head to stare out the window, but Hugh wasn’t certainif she was truly seeing the misting rain and rolling waters at all.She looked dazed and introspective, but since Sorcha had spent thewhole of the previous evening and most of the morning poring overthe contents of the thick binder, Hugh couldn’t blame her.

Nor did he rush to ask about what she haddiscovered. A part of him wanted to know, but as he had concededthe previous day, there was probably nothing in the report thatwould be able to change his circumstances. Perhaps the only goodthey might truly derive from it was the knowledge of what they wereup against.

So, instead of asking, Hugh went into thekitchen and poured her another cup of coffee, preparing it as hehad learned she preferred it, with little coffee and large amountsof sugar and flavored cream. Returning to the library, he pressedit into her hands and went to the fireplace, stoking the flames andadding more wood to fight the lingering morning chill. He loved theroom with its huge stacked stone fireplace, clean white paintedshelves, soft green walls, deep, comfortable furniture, and wealthof books.

With Sorcha there with him.

As she had said, it was easy to becomespoiled.

“Are you going to ask?”

She was hugging her mug in both hands,peering at him curiously over the brim as Hugh returned to the sofathey had been sharing and sat next to her. Not too close; Hugh wasfinding that her permission to flirt had made her proximity analmost unbearable temptation. “I’m sure ye will tell me when yerprepared tae do so.”

“But you don’t really want to know any more,do you?”

She was coming to know himso well. “I believe I needtae know.”

Sorcha nodded solemnly. “So do you want thegritty details or just the Cliffs Notes version?”

“One day ye might hae tae tell me what these‘Cliffs Notes’ are,” Hugh teased, reaching out to tweak her chinbut pulling away before he made contact. A brief caress of thatsilky skin would not be enough now. “’Tis a rainy day with littleelse tae do, so tell me all if it pleases ye tae do so.”

“What? Oh, right,” she said, casting him asidelong glance, as if the request was at odds with her thoughts.“Let me start with the basics then. Do you know what a wormhole is,Hugh?”

No, but Hugh didn’t ever want to admit suchignorance again. Instead, he only raised a brow. “Okay, how about ablack hole?” she asked, then sighed. “Gravity?”

Hugh scowled at that. “As ye said, I am naesimpleton, Sorcha.”

“Okay, imagine a body in space with agravitational pull stronger than light,” she said, prompting avague recollection.

“Aye, there was a man, an Englishman, Icannae recall his name but he was a rotund, dark-faced man … amember of the Royal Society, who experimented with gravity andmagnetism. He theorized such a thing,” Hugh said, tapping a fingeron his lips as he tried to remember the details of the briefdiscussion. “Something about a heavenly body so massive that lightcouldnae escape it. Is that what you are referring tae?”

“Right. A black hole.”

“He said ye cannae see it. ’Twas only atheory.”

“That has become truth. The reason you can’tsee it is because it won’t reflect light, but we know where theyare because they pull on other objects around them.” She paused,then asked, “With me so far?”

Hugh nodded, and she continued. “Jumpthrough history to the theory that a black hole is a region ofspace/time. A combination of the two, okay? A wormhole—and I amgoing to be incredibly simplistic here so don’t beat me up over itafter you read a textbook on the subject—would be like two blackholes meeting in the middle,

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