A Husband in Time by MAGGIE SHAYNE

decent?”
    Some devil came to life inside him, all over again, and it was that devil who made him call, “Come in.” Perhaps he was testing her to judge her reactions, so that he might gauge what sort of woman he was dealing with. A test, much like the many other experiments he’d performed in his day. He ignored the tiny voice in his brain that told him that theory was nothing more than self-deception. The woman got to him, in a way that disturbed him far too much to admit, even to himself.
    The bathroom door opened, and the woman he’d been thinking about stepped inside. Aside from an initial start of surprise, she showed no reaction at all. Keeping her eyes averted, she moved through the room, extracting big, emerald green towels from a cabinet, and then a small pink plastic item, and a can of some sort. “If you were trying to shock me, you chose the wrong method,” she said. “I was raised with brothers.” She set the towels and the other items on a shelf beside the tub, and still without looking at him, turned to go.
    â€œJane?” She stopped, her back to him. She wore a robe now, over the thin nightgown of the nightbefore. Pity. But that glorious hair still hung loosely down her back, making him ache to run his hands through it once again. “What is this?” he asked.
    â€œI thought you’d want to shave.” She still didn’t turn.
    Frowning, Zach leaned forward and picked up the pink thing, turning it this way and that. “This bit of a thing is a razor?” He could clearly see, upon closer inspection, that that was precisely what it was.
    â€œOf course it is.”
    He sighed loudly, and achieved the desired results. She turned, but kept her eyes carefully glued to his face. “Could you…could you show me how it works, Jane? They’ve changed drastically in the past hundred years.”
    Her eyes narrowed as they searched his, and he tried desperately to keep the mischief hidden. He started to get up. “Stay where you are,” she told him.
    â€œI’ll need a mirror—”
    â€œNot if I’m doing the shaving,” she said. Then she knelt beside the tub, picked up one of the towels and handed it to him. “Cover your—yourself,” she told him.
    â€œAnd soak this wonderful towel?”
    Frowning at him, Jane dropped the towel into the water, so that it landed right in his lap, no doubt concealing the parts of his anatomy she’d rather not be tempted to look at too closely. Then she took up the can, shook it and depressed a button on its top. Mounds of white foam oozed from the spout and into her palm. Zach felt his eyes widen. Then she leaned over and smoothed the lotion onto his face. Her touchwas warm, and trembling, and so good that he closed his eyes and relished it.
    When she finished, she dipped her hands into the water to rinse them clean. Her fingertips brushed his thigh, and he knew then that certain bodily functions had not been damaged by the side effects of time travel. He hoped she didn’t notice the change in the shape concealed by that towel.
    â€œNow, you just take the razor and…” She demonstrated, by drawing the blade very carefully down over his cheek. “Just like that. You see?”
    â€œMmm…” he said. Then he opened his eyes and saw her scowling at him. “I mean, yes, of course. But…suppose I cut myself?”
    â€œIf you are who you say you are, then you’ve managed a straight edge in your time. And if you can handle that, you can handle this.” She set the razor on the edge of the tub and got up to leave.
    â€œI am who I say I am, Jane. And you’ll believe it before breakfast. I promise.”
    She looked at him for a long moment, and this time her eyes betrayed her, dipping down to gaze at his chest and belly. Hastily she turned and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
    Â 
    Jane leaned back against the