That was the question. If Min-ji was right, and they were hundreds of years in the future, it wasn’t as if she could simply find the nearest town and take a bus home.
The time machine. She doubted she would be able to figure it out, but maybe Min-ji could. If they followed the trail back to it, maybe they could use it to return home.
Mace cleared his throat and lifted the shirts. Though Andie hated to accept any gifts from these people—however self-serving those gifts were—an all-over sunburn would hamper her escape efforts.
She accepted the shirts and handed one to Min-ji, who held it to her chest to cover herself, but stared down at the material with a wrinkle to her brow. Yeah, it was going to be hard to dress with their hands still tied in front of them. Andie lifted her bound wrists and raised her eyebrows.
Mace stepped forward, grasped Min-ji’s wrists lightly, and dug into the knot. Min-ji kept her head down, her straight black hair falling about her shoulders. She wasn’t that shy around men in an environment where she was comfortable, such as the classroom or a lab on campus, but from the hunch of her shoulders whenever these brutes drew near, she wished she could disappear—or that the men all around them would disappear. Andie could sympathize with that wish.
When Mace turned toward her, Andie stuck her arms out, so he could do the job without stepping too close. She was aware that the gesture thrust out and squished her boobs together, and remembered the way Mace had been eyeing her earlier. She vowed to stomp on his foot if his gaze roamed now.
Min-ji quickly put on her shirt, and the closest guard came up to retie her hands as soon as she finished.
Though Mace had to be aware of Andie’s breasts, since he had to look down in that direction to see the knots, he kept his eyes on his work and didn’t let his hands roam. The wrists weren’t exactly an erogenous zone, but Andie noticed the light brushes of his fingers against her skin as he tugged at the ropes. A hint of gooseflesh arose on her arms, the sensation of his touch flowing through her nerves and running all the way to the core of her body. Her nipples hardened, and she flushed with embarrassment, certain he would notice. How could he fail to when she was standing in front of him in all her naked glory? Of course, he was standing shirtless in front of her, too. A totally irrational urge to reach out and run a finger down his chest flashed through her mind.
Irritated with herself—he was one of her kidnappers, damn it—she almost pulled away from him. But she wanted the shirt so she could cover herself. She made herself wait. The knot fell away, and he slid the ropes off her wrists. She thought he would step back, but he grasped her forearm lightly, frowning at the raw red skin, courtesy of her sweat and the rubbing of ropes that had been tied too firmly.
“Who tied this one?” Mace asked, then clenched his jaw as he looked back down the line of men, most of whom had caught up with them.
Blackie looked toward the woods, avoiding his eyes. But Mace must have known the answer to his question, because he singled the man out, his stare cold and hard. Andie stepped back, finding the stare discomfiting, even if it wasn’t directed at her. She had been busy ogling his muscles, but there were scars on that torso, too, evidence of encounters with knives and bullets, and there was a hardness about him that one didn’t find in the desk jockeys whose musculature came solely from evening trips to the gym. Her earlier thought that Mace was a dangerous man returned to her mind, and she told herself not to forget it.
He let her back away, and she donned the shirt quickly, glad for the chance to cover up and hide her irritatingly pert nipples. Human bodies were stupid, she decided, reacting at totally inappropriate times.
“You saw how much trouble she was,” Blackie said, finally caving and responding to Mace’s continuing stare. He touched
The time machine. She doubted she would be able to figure it out, but maybe Min-ji could. If they followed the trail back to it, maybe they could use it to return home.
Mace cleared his throat and lifted the shirts. Though Andie hated to accept any gifts from these people—however self-serving those gifts were—an all-over sunburn would hamper her escape efforts.
She accepted the shirts and handed one to Min-ji, who held it to her chest to cover herself, but stared down at the material with a wrinkle to her brow. Yeah, it was going to be hard to dress with their hands still tied in front of them. Andie lifted her bound wrists and raised her eyebrows.
Mace stepped forward, grasped Min-ji’s wrists lightly, and dug into the knot. Min-ji kept her head down, her straight black hair falling about her shoulders. She wasn’t that shy around men in an environment where she was comfortable, such as the classroom or a lab on campus, but from the hunch of her shoulders whenever these brutes drew near, she wished she could disappear—or that the men all around them would disappear. Andie could sympathize with that wish.
When Mace turned toward her, Andie stuck her arms out, so he could do the job without stepping too close. She was aware that the gesture thrust out and squished her boobs together, and remembered the way Mace had been eyeing her earlier. She vowed to stomp on his foot if his gaze roamed now.
Min-ji quickly put on her shirt, and the closest guard came up to retie her hands as soon as she finished.
Though Mace had to be aware of Andie’s breasts, since he had to look down in that direction to see the knots, he kept his eyes on his work and didn’t let his hands roam. The wrists weren’t exactly an erogenous zone, but Andie noticed the light brushes of his fingers against her skin as he tugged at the ropes. A hint of gooseflesh arose on her arms, the sensation of his touch flowing through her nerves and running all the way to the core of her body. Her nipples hardened, and she flushed with embarrassment, certain he would notice. How could he fail to when she was standing in front of him in all her naked glory? Of course, he was standing shirtless in front of her, too. A totally irrational urge to reach out and run a finger down his chest flashed through her mind.
Irritated with herself—he was one of her kidnappers, damn it—she almost pulled away from him. But she wanted the shirt so she could cover herself. She made herself wait. The knot fell away, and he slid the ropes off her wrists. She thought he would step back, but he grasped her forearm lightly, frowning at the raw red skin, courtesy of her sweat and the rubbing of ropes that had been tied too firmly.
“Who tied this one?” Mace asked, then clenched his jaw as he looked back down the line of men, most of whom had caught up with them.
Blackie looked toward the woods, avoiding his eyes. But Mace must have known the answer to his question, because he singled the man out, his stare cold and hard. Andie stepped back, finding the stare discomfiting, even if it wasn’t directed at her. She had been busy ogling his muscles, but there were scars on that torso, too, evidence of encounters with knives and bullets, and there was a hardness about him that one didn’t find in the desk jockeys whose musculature came solely from evening trips to the gym. Her earlier thought that Mace was a dangerous man returned to her mind, and she told herself not to forget it.
He let her back away, and she donned the shirt quickly, glad for the chance to cover up and hide her irritatingly pert nipples. Human bodies were stupid, she decided, reacting at totally inappropriate times.
“You saw how much trouble she was,” Blackie said, finally caving and responding to Mace’s continuing stare. He touched
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