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  She laughed.

  “I mean it, Liz. I’m that close.”

  She shot him a cocky, feminine, smile. “Hands in pockets, then,” she said, shoving hers into her hip pockets so that her back arched a little and her breasts stood higher.

  He sucked in his breath in a quick sizzle of sound. “Damn you,” he said mildly. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  She laughed at the hungry look in his eyes and took a step back. “My tent’s closer and I have a blanket too.”

  She took another step back as he watched her with an intent gaze. Then he swooped. His kiss was meant to push them both to the edge. To tease, to tempt, to promise.

  When he let her go, Liz was panting. “Mike.” His name was a plea and a demand all at once. More plea than demand, though, she thought, as her body throbbed with need.

  “Your tent,” he said. This time he took her hand and they ran.

  Inside the tent he zipped the flap closed and stripped her, quickly. As his hands covered her breasts she moaned. He closed his mouth over hers, catching the sounds she made as his tongue ravished her mouth and his thumbs rubbed over her nipples. They hardened at his touch and she clung to him for support.

  She was aware of nothing but sensation. The roughness of his clothing against her skin, the rasp of his stubble on her face, the pads of his fingers moving against her breasts. She shifted position, spreading her legs to stand without overbalancing, and was rewarded with the hard evidence of his arousal. She moaned. Mike did too. Then he pulled away.

  She opened her eyes to look up at him. “Mike?”

  His smile was tender. He scooped her up, then carried her over to her air mattress and gently lowered her onto it. A moment later he unzipped his jeans and pushed them off.

  Liz shifted onto her side and rested her head on her hand while she watched him appreciatively. He was well endowed with lean muscle and, heavens, an erection that was proof that he really did want her very much indeed. She moistened her lips, then chewed the lower one nervously. Was she ready for this? For him?

  She looked up, past his muscular chest, and caught him watching her. There was a lazy look in his eyes, but a tightness to his features that suggested pleasure desired, but held under strong restraint. She reached for him with her free hand.

  He caught it as he lowered himself to his knees beside the air mattress, then he turned it so he could kiss her palm. She shivered. His mouth moved up to her wrist, pausing to kiss the vein beating heavily there. His tongue flicked out, stroking lightly, then he raked his teeth over the spot and her breath caught. Intent on his task he didn’t look up, but moved along her arm to her elbow, where he kissed and licked and rasped over her skin. She sighed with pleasure and eased onto her back.

  He came down on top of her, positioning himself carefully. She shifted, opening for him. He stroked her breast, then as she sighed with the pleasure of it, he caught her mouth with his and slipped inside. She was ready for him, hot and anxious to proceed. She wriggled and he laughed against her mouth. Then he thrust and gave her exactly what she wanted.

  The fire that he’d let cool while he undressed returned, hotter than before. Liz gave herself to him, not just her body, but her emotions and her mind. She was aware of nothing but the two of them. If a bear had strayed into camp and attempted to tear an entry into her tent she would not have noticed. She was wrapped in Mike’s arms and there was nothing but him.

  Her climax came after minutes of ever growing exquisite pleasure. It cascaded over her, painfully intense as he emptied himself into the condom he wore, then easing to sweet pleasure as his climax crested with hers. He withdrew slowly, shifting to deal with the condom, then he moved her on to her side and nestled her securely against him. He covered them both with her sleeping bag, kissed the side of her neck where her pulse beat a slow, satisfied rhythm, and whispered, “Rest now.”

  She was asleep almost before he finished saying the word.

  They made love again during the night. It was a slow, sensual joining, with each learning the contours of the other’s body and what pleased them most. Like their first time, the pleasure was intense. Liz fell asleep cuddled against Mike, more relaxed than she could remember.

  She woke to sounds of morning activities outside her tent, male voices and one chipper female one. She yawned and stretched, grinning at nothing in particular. Sometime today she was going to have to tell Scarr about the theropod theory. He’d probably throw a fit and refuse to believe it.

  Didn’t matter.

  Zac would be arriving in another hour or so, sneering about her excavation, bragging about what he hadn’t really found further along in the rift.

  Didn’t matter.

  In fact, when she tried to work up any kind of stressful thoughts, she discovered they didn’t matter. She’d had such an amazing night with a man she liked very much on so many different levels she couldn’t work up the energy to be worried, even if she should be.

  She got up, gave herself a rough sponge bath with bottled water she kept in her tent, dressed in her usual jeans and a t-shirt, then exited the tent.

  Mike saw her first. He shot her a sly, but cocky, grin. “You up late. Too much partying last night?”

  She raised her brows. They’d agreed some time in the darkness of the night, that they wouldn’t broadcast their relationship to the others. Right now, though, Mike had the look of a man who had a really juicy secret he was dying to unload on someone and he wasn’t going to be picky about who that person was. “Too much theropod,” she said repressively. “I’ve been trying to figure out where the head might be.”

  Will looked up from the plate of bacon and eggs he was eating. “I dreamed about it last night.”

  Mike poured Liz a cup of coffee and looked at Will, his expression interested. “Dreams are supposed to be our brain’s way of bringing buried information to the surface. Where did you find the head?”

  Will’s expression twisted into a grimace. “On federal land, a yard or so away from the neck.”

  Liz accepted the coffee from Mike with a smile of thanks. Their hands touched for a moment and awareness lanced through her. Mike’s cocky grin turned into a slumberous smile. Her heart skipped a beat then started to hammer.

  She sat down at the portable picnic table opposite Will, who hadn’t noticed the exchange—thankfully!—because he was focused on finishing up his food. She shook her head at him. “It’s not, though. Believe me, I’ve looked.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t miss something?” Will asked. He looked over as Mike sat down. “It’s logical it would be near the neck.”

  “I hope it’s on Mike’s side,” Liz said. She was very aware of him beside her. She could feel the heat from his body, smell the scent of clean sweat and masculine hunger that was particularly him. Her body was responding outrageously. Her nipples were peaking, her pulse pounding and heavy with desire, and the blush that suffused her body was darkening with every wayward thought.

  “Why?” Mike asked.

  His voice was rough. Low. Full of innuendo. She cleared her throat and said, “Because if it’s on the federal side Scarr will absorb it and make it his own.”

  “He can try,” Mike said pleasantly. He even smiled as he said the words.

  “What will you do with your part of the skeleton?” she asked impulsively.

  He stared out into the prairie. “I have plans.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, she said, “That’s it? Nothing more, just plans?”

  Opposite her, Will snorted.

  Mike brought his gaze back to her face. There was amusement in his eyes. A smile twitched at his mouth. “Isn’t it enough?”

  As she sipped her coffee, her gaze locked with his. Plans. She put the bits and pieces of information from the last couple of weeks together and decided to leap into the void and hope there would be a ledge to break her fall. “Let me guess,” she said, slowly stating each word. “You’re going to build a state of the ar
t museum to house it.”

  His reaction was priceless. His eyes narrowed and a frown darkened his brow. He shot a quick look at Will, who raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I didn’t say anything.”

  Mike focused back on Liz. “How did you know?”

  She put her cup on the table. “Let’s say I have insider knowledge. Can I borrow your truck this morning?”

  “Why?”

  “I have an errand to run.”

  He pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them onto the table. “There’s an extra can of gas in the back in case you get stuck.”

  She smiled at him, remembering the night of the storm, thinking about their lovemaking last night. “I won’t. Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Chapter 17

  Once she was on the road Liz wondered if she was doing the right thing. Her physical response to Mike hadn’t surprised her last night, but the deep contentment that followed did. Now she had questions and she wanted answers.

  The best place to get them was the future.

  She drove back to the stretch of prairie where she’d found her beacon, wondering as she went if the beacon would be there again. After all, Mark worked in a museum. He might not be there at eight-thirty in the morning. She reached her destination, more nervous than she had ever been, fearful that she might have imagined the whole thing because she so desperately wanted to have the talent that her mother and sister did.

  Keeping her eyes on the road ahead, she parked the truck. It was only when she got out and rounded the front end to face the open prairie that she realized she was holding her breath. That was because she let it out in a woosh when she saw the blaze of her beacon flaring in the empty landscape in front of her. Her heart began to pound as she headed toward it.

  As the first time, she was in her own time in one instant, then in the future world in the next. In the high tech lab she stood for a moment to get her bearings. She looked around her. Nothing much had changed since she was here last, although she thought the bones on one of the stainless steel tables were new. Unlike the last time, though, this morning Mark was in the room, seated at the desk on the far side of the room. His back was toward her and he was touching the computer image in front of him, shifting from one screen to another.

  She watched for a couple of minutes, expecting him to turn around and greet her, but he didn’t move. She frowned, considering that. He had known she was coming the first time. Why was he unaware of her now?

  She cleared her throat and his body jerked.

  He swiveled the wheeled desk chair so that he was facing her. His expression was shocked. “Grandma. What are you doing here?”

  She waved her hand, indicating their surroundings. “I wanted to talk about…this.”

  Mark narrowed his eyes. “I can’t. You know that.” Uneasiness flashed across his face and he shot a look over his shoulder at the document on his screen.

  Liz took a step forward. He was worried about something on that screen. That meant she wanted to know what it was.

  He must have caught her movement out of the corner of his eye, because he focused back on her as he said, “Shutdown. Authenticated restart required.”

  “Shutting down,” said Liz’s voice through invisible computer speakers.

  She stopped and stood, staring at the now blank computer screen. “What the hell?”

  He laughed. “You said that to Josh when he unveiled it, too.”

  “Josh. Mike Edmonds teenage computer genius?”

  His brows snapped together into a frown, then he pulled himself together and blanked his expression. A moment later he was smiling and mischief danced in his eyes. “You’re the voice of all of our automated dioramas too. You didn’t like that either, but visitors love the way you speak. It must be the Boston accent.”

  “I suppose,” she said uneasily. Then she shot him a frosty look, one her mother, Chloe, had used on her hundreds of times. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  His only answer to that was a grin. He stood up. “It’s early. It must be early in your time too. Would you like a coffee?”

  Now here was an opportunity to get a little more information. “It is early. Any chance of breakfast?”

  Mark cocked his head and raised his brows. “We do have a cafeteria, but it’s not open yet. And no, I’m not going to take you on a tour.” He gestured to a table not far from a sink. “There is a coffee machine, though.”

  She nodded acceptance and followed him over to the coffee station. The coffeemaker was a single cup brewer. She watched Mark insert a pod, set a coffee cup beneath, then push a button to get the machine started. The machine hissed and gurgled. Coffee spurted into the cup. She suspected that the technology, which had been a comparatively recent innovation on her side of the beacon, was old-fashioned here in her grandson’s time. Intrigued, she looked over at him. “You don’t talk to the machine to get it to start? You still have to push a button?” Somehow, knowing that you still had to physically touch the machine to make it work was a relief.

  Mark frowned down at the coffeemaker. “This is a retro model. You told me it would make you feel at home.” The gurgling stopped. A few more drops splattered into the cup, then the machine beeped. He handed her the full cup.

  He headed back to his desk, indicated a square, upholstered guest chair beside it, and sat in the wheeled and padded chair he used. She held the mug between her hands, feeling the warmth, thinking about Mark’s surprise at her arrival and the retro coffeemaker. “You didn’t know I was coming this morning, did you?”

  He met her thoughtful gaze with a blank one of his own. “You know the rules, Grandma.”

  Yes, she did. When someone visited you from the past, you couldn’t talk about your present, especially if the knowledge might change the past and so also change the future. But then, when a crisis occurred in Uncle Andrew’s life, Cody and Faith had proved that actions in the present had already affected the past, so it wasn’t always a simple equation. Liz sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee, keeping her gaze locked with Mark’s. When he started to squirm, she said, “I think it’s interesting that you didn’t know I was coming today. Was that because I didn’t tell you? Or was it because I didn’t make this journey before?”

  He stopped squirming and looked intrigued. “I only know about three visits and this wasn’t one—” He closed his mouth with a snap and glared at her. “That wasn’t fair.”

  “Three!” Liz said. “Is that all? Andrew visits Faith all the time. At least once a week, if not more.”

  “I didn’t say there weren’t more. Just that you warned me about three specific visits.”

  “How do you know this isn’t one of them then?” Liz asked, intrigued.

  He reddened. “I just do.”

  Faith, Liz’s sister, had been a Beacon to Andrew Byrne from puberty on. Liz knew all the rules about visiting the future and she’d seen first hand how the system worked. She figured she probably knew a lot more than her grandson. He might know she was coming because of a date. That was unlikely, though, because Liz herself had no idea when Mark’s now was. Of course she might be able to figure out the date by counting the days that passed between her first visit and the next one.

  Or it might be because she didn’t come alone. “Do I bring Mike Edmonds with me on the next two visits?”

  Mark frowned at her. “Why did you come, Grandma?”

  He hadn’t answered her question, which made her think that she probably had brought Mike. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. If she’d taken him into her confidence and told him about the Beacon, it meant she trusted him completely. That she was ready to commit to him.

  Well, she already had, hadn’t she? Last night, when their sex got way out of hand and turned into something much more emotional than just satisfying an itch. “I want to know if this museum houses my dino.”

  He raised his brows. “The Daspletosaur
us?”

  She sucked in her breath. “So it is a Daspletosaurus?”

  “You already knew that.”

  “Yes, but…” He was right, she did. But it was nice to know that Mike had pegged it. She changed tack as quickly as Mark had. “So my Daspletosaurus is here, on display? Can I see it?”

  “Your Daspletosaurus is in the literature,” Mark said.

  He wasn’t answering her question again. “Is it here, in this museum?”

  “Grandma, you have a great career ahead of you and you know I can’t tell you anything about it.”

  Frustrated, she glared at him. She suddenly knew how Faith’s traveler, Andrew, felt when he tried to tease information about his time out of Faith, Liz, and their mother Chloe. Annoyed, impatient, intrigued.

  There was a clatter from deeper in the building. Mark leapt to his feet. “That’s the staff, coming in for work. You have to go. No one can find you here.”

  Liz thought about refusing to leave until he’d told her what she wanted to know, but when all was stripped to the basics, Mark was family. And he was right. If she was seen there would have to be explanations. Better that she was a ghost, visible only to her grandson. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go, but next time I come I want answers!”

  He glanced nervously at the doorway as Liz turned and walked toward the far side of the room, where she’d first entered. Light flared. She went through it and was back in her own time, standing on the vast, open prairie.

  There was not a building in sight.

  Chapter 18

  Liz cut the engine, but she sat for a minute in the pickup, thinking over her visit to the future, feeling the frustration. Finally she sighed and clambered out. After a brief visit to her tent to pick up her backpack, which was filled with the tools she used to excavate, she headed for the rift.

  She knew there was trouble as soon as she stood at the top of the path. From her position on higher ground she could see that Zac and Scarr were standing by the skeleton, on the federal side of the line. On the other side, Mike, Will and the two students were diligently working on the back end of the dino. They were studiously ignoring Scarr and Zac, which was probably driving Scarr crazy. He was the only one who was allowed to ostracize another.