A Husband in Time by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page A

bathroom door and tried to steady her breathing. Whoever he was, the lunatic in her bathtub was incredible. And that made him dangerous. The sooner he was out of her house, the better. She closed her eyes, but still the image of that muscled chest, beaded with water, kept resurfacing in her mind. “The sooner the better,” she muttered, and headed downstairs to start breakfast.
    When she had the coffee brewing and Cody’s favorite blueberry muffins in the oven, Jane went upstairs again to wake her son. But Cody was no longer in bed when she stepped into her room. For just a second, his absence startled her. And then she heard the reassuring sounds of his Nintendo game from down the hall, and sighed. As she dressed, she glanced up at the painting that hung on the wall above her bed…and then she went still, falling into the brown eyes of the man in that painting. The inventor. The time traveler.
    He’d hopped right out of a Jules Verne novel and landed smack in the middle of her life.
    Or so the man who’d somehow become her house-guest would have her believe. It was, to say the least, mind-boggling. The coincidence of it, anyway. He looked so much like the man in the painting. Even his clothes…
    But it was impossible, of course. Still, something about the man pulled at her. She wanted to help him. And today she would. She’d convince him to let her take him into town, to see a doctor. Maybe he’d taken a blow to the head or something.
    She hadn’t warned Zach not to tell Cody where he thought he’d really come from, or who he thought he really was, and she should have. Lord, she could just imagine the call she’d get when Cody started sharing that tale with his fifth-grade class next week at school. Besides, it would only confuse him. He was far too young to grasp a concept like that, despite his above-average intelligence.
    She finished dressing and went down the hall, then stood in Cody’s doorway and stared for a moment.Cody stood near the desk, laughing uproariously as the man who claimed to be Zachariah Bolton, genius, worked the control pad, unerringly marching the little Mario on the screen right off a cliff and into oblivion.
    He made an aggravated sound in his throat.
    â€œDon’t feel bad,” Jane said. “I’ve been trying for months, and I still can’t get past World Two.”
    Both of them turned to face her, and both were smiling. Zach’s eyes glittered with something like wonder. “This,” he said softly, “is amazing.”
    â€œAnd addictive. Be careful, or you’ll find yourself glued to that thing like a fly in a spider’s web.” His smile broadened and she caught her breath. Clean and shaved, he was even more breathtaking. Especially when he smiled. Her errant mind chose that moment to recall the way that smiling mouth had felt when it made love to hers last night, and she quickly averted her eyes. Too late, though. He’d seen it. She saw the way his gaze lowered to her lips for just an instant. And she felt the air between them change.
    She cleared her throat. “And, Cody, what have I told you about Nintendo before breakfast?”
    â€œI know, Mom. But Zach’s never seen anything like this. Have you, Zach?”
    â€œCertainly not.”
    â€œHeck, Mom, they didn’t even have TV in 1897.”
    She grimaced and shot a glance at him. “You didn’t tell him—”
    â€œHe figured it out all by himself, Jane. Of course, it took him several guesses. As I recall, the first one was that I was a traveler from another planet. And then that I was a ghost. And finally that I was a…” He frowned. “What did you call it, Cody?”
    â€œA time cop,” Cody said.
    Jane sighed. “I knew I never should have let you rent that Van Damme movie.”
    â€œJane, really,” Zach said. “Your language.”
    Jane rolled her eyes. “Breakfast will be