Perfect Timing: Those Were the Days / Pistols at Dawn / Time After Time

Resolved, she made a quick pass of the room, confirming what she already knew: no television, no digital alarm clock, not even a radio even though she was certain radios existed in the twenties. But back then the family had gathered around it, right? And they all sat together like a family listening to The Shadow or Jack Benny or whoever it was that was around during that time. Honestly, if she’d known she was going to be time-traveling, she would have paid more attention in history class. Or at least watched The History Channel more often.

Time travel. Now that was something for the Discovery Channel, and unfortunately she hadn’t watched much of that, either. She still couldn’t quite grasp it, despite all the evidence. Her hesitation probably made sense. After all, the whole concept wasn’t exactly within the realm of normal.

She should be in shock. Freaking out. Borderline hysterical. That was the proper way to act when the unimaginable happened to you, right? Except she wasn’t any of those things, because to Sylvia, the situation wasn’t unimaginable at all. Instead, it was the culmination of all her dreams.

That was the real reason she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the concept. Because if it were true—if she had really traveled through time—then all of her hopes and fantasies really had come true. And that seemed like too much to wish for.

With a sigh, she sat back on the bed, the intricately embroidered pillows propped behind her back. It was true. Being here meant that all those afternoons of wishing she could be swept away to a different land—of wishing she could find the magic wardrobe and Aslan the King—had paid off.

Dear God. She’d finally gotten her childhood wish, but it had come too damn late. Martin had been dead for years now. If Fate was going to toss her backward by almost a century, then why in hell couldn’t it have happened when she truly needed the escape?

She got off the bed and started pacing again. She had to get back, of course. She had a fabulous job she was supposed to start in the morning. Not that she had a clue how to get back.

Still, she had to figure out a way. She had obligations and a life that she’d fought for tooth and nail despite the specter of Martin always hanging over her shoulder. He may have tried to screw up her life—both literally and figuratively—but in the end she’d come out on top. She’d aced every school she’d attended, and the bidding war when she’d graduated law school had been a beauty to behold. She was a success now—one hundred percent—and that was all in spite of Martin Straithorn.

Of course, just thinking his name made her shiver, and she rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to make the goose bumps disappear. “So much for coming out on top,” she whispered, the sound of her voice making her feel a little crazy because, honestly, who talked to themselves?

All of a sudden, she wished Tina were there. That wish, however, wasn’t going to come true. Sylvia was all alone, just as she had been so much of her life. Alone, and always running away.

She paused for a moment, her mind in a whirl as she thought about how she’d run toward academia and work, even while she was running away from Martin and the memories. She’d used her work to substitute for a relationship because she couldn’t handle the intimacy. She couldn’t handle the give and take that came with an honest relationship with a man, because all Martin ever did was take. She knew that. Her motivations were so clear any Psych 101 student could see them.

But knowing and changing were two different things. Blame the man, sure. But she still had to wriggle out from under his thumb.

She just wasn’t sure how to do that.

She’d reached the window and now looked blankly down toward the manicured lawn, watching the men in suits and the women in colorful dresses flit away into the night.

One turned, looking up toward her window. Tucker. She gasped, realizing her heart had started pounding double time. She didn’t even know the man, and yet his touch had fired her blood.

Pheromones. She’d learned all about them in biology. Their effect on fruit flies, animals and, of course, people.

Sexual attraction, chemistry, lust at first sight. Whatever you called it, it was real. Scientifically established. Her body chemistry reacted to his. That was all. That was what had compelled her to kiss him.

But she couldn’t help wondering if his body reacted the same way to hers, although she was pretty sure it had. There’d been real passion in his kiss, after all.

She smiled a little at the possibility, at the same time thinking that she must be an idiot. Because how many girls who found themselves thrust into the 1920s spent their time lusting after a man instead of trying to figure out how to get back home?

She didn’t know the answer. But even with the question hanging out there, she knew one thing—she wanted Tucker Greene.

The thought took her a little aback. Sure, she’d been attracted to guys on and off all her life. After all, Martin may have screwed up her ability to communicate sexually, but he hadn’t put a dent in her ability to lust after a man. But she’d never felt for a guy anything like what she now felt for Tucker. A desperate longing. An almost physical need. The sense that if she couldn’t touch him again, the world would never shift back and everything would be slightly off-kilter from now until the end of time.

Melodramatic, but that was how she felt. And because of that, she took a deep breath and allowed herself to consider the decadent little thought that had been seeking entrance to her mind: Tina’s words, loud and clear in her head. “Find a man you want and take charge. No strings, no expectations. Just make it all about Sylvia. Get exactly what you want from the guy. And once you do that, you’ll be free of Martin. I promise.”

Tina’s plan had seemed unlikely and frivolous while standing in the museum, now it seemed not only palatable but promising.

Tucker Greene could be the focus of her Grand Experiment. A chance to follow Tina’s advice and to take what she wanted. Not her usual behavior, to be sure, but nothing about this situation was usual. She could be gone in a split second, right? For that matter, she wasn’t even really here. After all, she wouldn’t even be born for another sixty-some years.

So why not—as Tina said—take what she wanted?

She took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. She was going to seduce Mr. Tucker Greene. And for the first time in her life, she intended to be the one in charge between the sheets.

Scary to be sure. But mostly, Sylvia simply couldn’t wait.

SYLVIA COULDN’T SLEEP.

She tried. Everything from counting sheep to singing lullabies to herself.

Nothing worked. She told herself that she simply wasn’t tired. For all she knew she’d been blissfully asleep for the equivalent of days as she traveled back through time. It wasn’t as if she understood the physics of going back, after all. For all she knew, it had taken a full month of “her” time to get here.

A nice theory, but probably not true. More likely, she couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t get her mind to calm down. Having come up with a plan, now she wanted to implement it.

Trouble was, she wasn’t very good at first steps. At least not where men were concerned.

A soft tap at her door startled her, and she jumped. Probably Blythe, come to check on her. She drew in a breath, slid out of bed and called, “Come in.”

A rattle and then the door pushed open. Sylvia’s heart did a skittering number as she saw that it wasn’t Blythe standing there at all. It was Tucker, and her pulse immediately picked up its tempo. This was her chance, she thought, even as she wondered if she could see it through.

“Ah,” he said, looking at her, then immediately at the floor. “I beg your pardon, Sylvia. I thought I heard you say come in.”

“I did,” she said, wondering what was wrong with him. The thought had barely entered her mind, when she realized the answer. She was in pajamas. True, they covered up more of her body than many of the outfits in her closet at home, but they were pajamas nonetheless. Intimate apparel. And this was, after all, another era.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, slipping into a robe she’d found earlier. “I don’t know where my head is. Please, I’m decent now.”

He looked up then, and the heat she saw in his eyes sent a trill of power through her. Without a doubt, he’d had the same reaction to her that she’d had to him. And if she wanted to take advantage of the situation, now would be a perfect time.

The trouble, of course, was that she had no clue what to do. She took a step toward him, wishing she had Tina’s bold confidence. How could she be so confident in the courtroom and so muddled with a man? It really defied explanation.

“Did you—” She broke off, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Did you need something?”

“No, I…” He moved closer, and she matched him step by step until they were separated only by inches, the air between them crackling with need. She wanted to touch him, but although she had the desire, she couldn’t quite find the courage.

“I saw your light on,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.”

Not everything. But she couldn’t say the words aloud. Instead, she nodded. “I’m fine,” she said, watching his chest rise and fall. His eyes stayed on her, dark brown and intense. Filled with concern and something else, too. A familiar heat that she was certain was matched by her own steady gaze.

Do it! Walk one step toward him and kiss him. You’ve already kissed him once. Just do it again. Take control, just like Tina said.

Right. She could do that. This was fantasy. She was in a world not her own, and when would she ever have such an opportunity to be bold again?

Before she could stop herself, she shifted her weight, starting to take the last step toward him. She froze, however, when he started to speak.

“I also wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

She peered at him, confused, and something in his tone making her wary. “Not at all. It’s a lovely room. Blythe gave me carte blanche with the closet. And these pajamas are awesome.”

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat and not quite looking her in the eyes. “I noticed.” He cleared his throat again. “Ah, what I mean to say is that I understand you were a bit dizzy and delirious earlier. I hope you don’t think that I would be so bold as to presume any intentions on your part because of our earlier, ah, kiss.”

It was Sylvia’s turn to blush. “Oh. Right.” Damn. So much for her ability to read men. In the moment, she’d thought he’d been enjoying the kiss. Apparently, he’d only been indulging her particular neurosis. “Um, thanks for telling me.”