The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance

Patti O’Shea The Troll Bridge

Lia glanced around the control room. It looked so ordinary, so boring — industrial grey carpeting, neutral walls, even the windows on the far side of the room were normal. She expected something more at a cutting-edge facility like the particle accelerator. The only things that separated this place from a regular office were the curved desks with two tiers of flat-screen computer monitors lined up side by side.

Even the scientists seemed mundane, dressed in slacks with Oxford or polo shirts. Couldn’t there at least be one guy running around in a white lab coat with his hair going twenty different directions like Albert Einstein?

Everyone around her was busy doing something, but she had no idea what. She’d grown accustomed to interviewing engineers as part of her job in corporate communications for Park International, but this was her first time dealing with physicists. She hoped it was her last.

The man she was supposed to talk to had listened to about three questions and answered none before he’d dumped her off on an intern. The kid knew a lot about the particle accelerator and was nervously rambling, which might have been good for her article in the monthly employee magazine except that she needed to quote someone with credentials.

It was too bad. This boy, Derrick, was going to be an asset someday. Earlier, he’d seen her blank look and had immediately started speaking in layman’s terms. That was worth its weight in gold.

Today’s experiment was supposed to rev the particles up to their highest rate of speed so far and she’d been sent to cover it. This was a Big Deal and the order had come from the top of the food chain, but Doctor I’m-Too-Important-To-Talk-To-You didn’t care who had issued the assignment.

To her surprise, she’d found what little she’d understood about particle physics interesting, and since the kid wouldn’t ridicule her, she decided to ask a question that had intrigued her since she’d researched the atom smasher.

“Derrick,” Lia interjected when he paused, “I read something about the particle accelerator maybe creating black holes. Is this any kind of real hazard?”

“No, ma’am.” He shrugged self-consciously. “The possibility is so minute, it’s nearly inconceivable. If any do happen to actualize, they’ll wink out in a fraction of a second. They’re too small and unstable to maintain their existence long.”

That was a relief. Although she’d guessed the odds of making a black hole that could swallow the Earth were small, it was still nice to hear it from someone who knew physics — even if he was still in college.

Derrick didn’t stop, though. “It’s also unlikely that we’ll create any wormholes either, and, if we did, they’d be so small that only subatomic particles would be transported.”

Lia hadn’t read anything on that. “Wormholes?”

“Wormholes are tubes that traverse space, time, or both and if we find one and could travel through—”

“I’ve seen Star Trek, I know what wormholes are, but I didn’t realize we could make them,” she told him ruefully. OK, so it was slightly embarrassing to use a television show as reference material, but the reading she’d done on particle physics had turned her brain to gelatin.

He pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “We can’t. That’s what I was explaining. The idea that we might produce a wormhole is every bit as remote as the black hole theory, although it is mathematically possible.”

“That’s kind of disappointing,” she murmured.

Derrick smiled for the first time. “Tell me about it, but it was proven that the Einstein-Rosen Bridge would shut as soon as it formed, closing—”

He stopped short when the physicist who’d ditched her called his name. The experiment was about to begin and Derrick’s help was needed, leaving Lia to her own devices. She glanced over a few shoulders, but no one paid attention to her, and since they all looked so intent, she didn’t ask questions. Instead, she leaned against a wall at the back of the control room and hoped something interesting would happen that she could write about.

It didn’t. Had she made a note on how long this was supposed to last? Flipping through her steno pad, she checked, but before she found the information, the tension in the room shot high. She couldn’t understand what they were saying in their geek-speak, but anything that ended the boredom had to be a good thing.

“It broke containment,” one of the scientists called.

Or maybe it wasn’t a good thing.

A man she didn’t recognize approached her. “Out,” he ordered and pointed to the exit.

“But—”

“Out or I’ll escort you out.”

When she hesitated, he took her by the arm and put her in the hall. Lia eyed the closed door to the control room and rubbed her biceps where he’d gripped her. She briefly considered going back in, just on general principle, but Godzilla had bruised her and she wasn’t some hotshot investigative reporter. She wrote feel-good pieces for the company magazine and that was it. Not worth it.

Lia frowned at the treatment, but realized this had nothing to do with her, at least not specifically. Standing in the hall, though, reminded her of all the other times she’d been on the outside looking in. Her thoughts, her opinions, her way of viewing life didn’t seem to match anyone else’s and it made her feel alone. She didn’t understand the prejudices, the arguments that antagonized people, and she’d learned not to ask questions to try to make it clearer. Others took it as a challenge and tended to get defensive.

Things hadn’t been quite so bad while her parents were alive, but even they hadn’t understood her. Their lives had been dull and they hadn’t seen anything wrong with routine. Her daydreaming had puzzled them. How could she simply sit and stare into space? Why didn’t she clean her room or take out the trash? But there had to be more than working at a nine-to-five job every weekday, doing yard work on Saturdays and golfing on Sunday.

Life was supposed to be about pursuing dreams, wasn’t it? About having adventures? Lia grimaced. Yeah, she was one to talk. She’d taken the safe road of corporate communications rather than risk failure.

She didn’t want to think about this, not now. Closing her notebook, she slid it in the side of her purse and shoved her pen in the metal spiral. Maybe they had a vending machine around here and she could get some crackers or something. The physicists had apparently been too excited to eat, but she was hungry.

The halls were deserted and there was no one to ask where to find a break room. She kept walking, turning down random corridors. How lost could she get before she ran into someone who could point her in the right direction?

After about ten minutes, she had to concede that she wasn’t going to get a badge in orienteering or find help. Lia stopped and tried to mentally retrace her route, but she didn’t remember much beyond the last couple of turns.

Before she could decide whether to go back or continue forwards, she felt a change in the air behind her. At last, someone who could give her directions. With a smile, she pivoted, but sobered immediately.

There was a giant shimmery circle closing ground on her. What the hell was that? She backed up.

The vortex followed and she ran. She dropped her purse, but couldn’t take time to worry about it now, not when she could sense the thing gaining on her.

Lia didn’t get far before it engulfed her. She felt as if she were tumbling, careening madly in mid-air, but hitting nothing. Clutching her arms around her waist, she closed her eyes, trying to stave off the growing nausea.

Her stop was abrupt and pain exploded as her skull connected with a hard surface beneath her. She took a deep, shuddery breath and, rubbing the back of her head, tried to clear her vision. It took a few minutes before Lia realized she wasn’t staring at the ceiling, but at the sky. That shook her enough that she forced herself to sit up. She was outdoors and, judging from what she saw, it was early evening. This wasn’t right. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet and swayed before she caught her balance.

Unless she was mistaken — entirely possible — she was standing on top of an enormous step pyramid in the middle of a city that looked like nothing on Earth. At least nothing she’d ever seen on Earth. in her time.

Wormhole. Lia shivered before she scoffed at herself. Yeah, right, Derrick the intern had said the odds against it were astronomical and that even if a wormhole opened, it would be too small for anything larger than an atom to pass through. Besides she’d need, like, a spaceship or something, otherwise she’d be dead, right?

Something had happened, that was obvious. The most likely scenario was that she was unconscious and hallucinating — she had hit her head. Yeah, that was it. There was a slab of marble behind her that bore a resemblance to an altar, and Lia went over to it and sat down. She’d just wait right here until the doctors revived her.

Troll Maglaya stood at attention with his Special Operations team in the Colonel’s office and waited for the man to finish giving orders to his aide. This was Troll’s third tour of duty on Jarved Nine in the past seven years, but he couldn’t quell the spurt of anxiety that he felt whenever he had to face ‘The Big Chill’: Colonel Sullivan was a badass from the word go and no one wanted to be on his shit list.

The door closed with a snick that had Troll stiffening. “At ease,” the Colonel said as he took a seat behind his desk.

For a long moment the room was absolutely silent. “We’ve suspected for a few weeks that the coalition has an agent on J. Nine,” Sullivan said finally, voice low. “Last night the MPs found her atop the pyramid in the centre of the Old City.”

That surprised Troll, but he remained expressionless. The coalition had been trying for years to acquire lamordite to facilitate their space travel beyond Earth’s solar system, but he hadn’t realized they’d succeeded.

“Captain Montgomery, you and your team will search outside the city for the spaceship and for any other coalition agents who might be present.”

“Yes, sir,” Marsh Montgomery said.

“I’m pulling Sergeant Maglaya for another mission — that means you’ll be short-handed — but you have permission to tap any MPs you want to join your search.”

Troll went rigid, and since he stood shoulder to shoulder with Marsh and the team’s executive officer, Flare Cantore, he felt them both tense as well. Why was the Big Chill singling him out?

Sullivan kept talking. “Major Brody is waiting in the briefing room — he’ll fill you in. Dismissed. Sergeant Maglaya, you’ll stay here.”

The colonel waited until the other men had left the room and the door was shut behind them before he continued. “Sergeant, I have a special task for you. As I said, we found a woman who doesn’t belong here and she’s not telling us anything — at least nothing that makes sense.”

Sullivan frowned fiercely and Troll watched him take a few deep breaths before he said, “Your job is to guard her.”

“Sir, why not lock her up?”

“Because we don’t know what the coalition is after and we need that information. If she’s loose, chances are she’ll try to complete her mission. That’s where you come in. You’re going to be glued to her side. I don’t want her using the bathroom without you standing guard at the door. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Troll hesitated, then decided to risk it. “Permission to speak freely, Colonel?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why me, sir? Why not assign this job to one of the MPs and let me work with my team?”

Sullivan sighed. “Your reputation with women is well known, Sergeant, and it’s been decided that you should put that skill to use. If necessary, you’re to romance her to get the information we need about why she’s here and what the coalition wants.”

It was Troll’s turn to scowl and he didn’t give a rip what the Colonel thought about the display. He wasn’t the randy kid who’d used his appearance to bag and bed every willing woman he could find — not any more — and he resented like hell that Sullivan was asking him to whore himself.

Before he could find a way to verbally share his displeasure without pissing off the Big Chill, the man shook his head. “I know, Maglaya, I don’t like it either, but your orders came from above me and my opinion was overruled.”

The Colonel had fought against this? “Thank you, sir.”

Sullivan ran a hand over his chin. “She claims her name is Ophelia Stanton and that she either time travelled or has a head injury.”

“Time travel, Colonel? The head injury is more likely.”

That earned him a no-shit stare. “We transported her to the infirmary and the docs checked her thoroughly, but found nothing wrong. This is obviously some kind of ploy. She might try to pull a con on you, too.”

“It won’t happen, sir.” Troll might not be a player any longer, but he’d spent a lot of years in the arena before he’d watched his teammates find love. Marsh had gone first, falling for Kendall during the team’s initial tour on J. Nine, and one by one all his buddies had gotten married. As he’d observed them, Troll had realized he wanted what they had. He’d grown tired of the emptiness that seemed to deepen with each superficial relationship and he wasn’t going back there. Not even to protect the interests of the Western Alliance.

The Colonel’s briefing was short — he didn’t have a lot of information — then Troll was dismissed and sent to take over guard duty. Stanton remained at the infirmary and, as he neared, he could see the MPs through the windows. They stood, but between them was a woman who was seated. Had to be her.

Troll was nearly to the door when he stopped short and drew a sharp breath. No way. He stared. No way in hell.

She had medium-brown, shoulder-length hair, an oval face, high cheekbones and full lips. He couldn’t see the shade of her eyes, but he had a bad feeling they were hazel. Almost reluctantly, he reached for his wallet.

Fourteen years ago, right before he’d left for basic training, his grandmother had given him a drawing she’d done in coloured pencil. The page had already been yellowed and was more than three decades old back then, but she’d insisted he take it and made him promise to keep it with him at all times.

He pulled it out, put the wallet back in his pocket, and carefully unfolded the paper. It had been years since he’d glanced at it — he had to be remembering it wrong. Had to be. But as he looked between the prisoner and the picture, Troll discovered his memory was good. The woman Gram had drawn in 2002 was sitting in front of him, and she didn’t look much older than she did in the drawing — in a sketch forty-eight years ago.

Lia eyed the closed door of the exam room and, with a grimace, lay back. She wasn’t going anywhere, not with two military policemen in the hall to make sure she stayed where they’d put her. Lacing her fingers behind her head, she brought her knees up to rest her feet flat on the padded table and stared at the textured panels of the ceiling. As far as prisons went, the infirmary probably wasn’t that bad, but it was impossible to get comfortable on such a short surface.

Maybe it was deliberate. Wasn’t sleep deprivation an interrogation tactic? She wouldn’t put it past the colonel from hell. He’d badgered her unmercifully, accused her of being a spy, and had derided her when she’d tried to offer explanations for her presence. Then there was his reaction when she asked to be taken to the wormhole that would return her to Earth 2010. She’d thought the man was going to freeze her with his death stare and that gaze had been friendly compared to the way he’d looked at her when she’d asked about a particle accelerator.

She tried to ignore the sick feeling that blossomed in the pit of her stomach. Somewhere during her browbeating, Lia had accepted the illogical. The unbelievable. She didn’t have a head injury — she’d time travelled for real, and judging by the colonel’’s response to her questions, she was going to be stuck here. For ever. Her gulp was audible.

The sureness that she was in the future hadn’t come to her in some cataclysmic epiphany, but had crept in slowly. There were too many anomalies for it to be some fantasy of hers. Lia didn’t know anything about the military beyond what she’d seen on television or in the movies, but what she’d observed here was a chain of command that seemed accurate and army-speak that was foreign to her.

That had held true at the clinic, too. She didn’t know much about medicine and yet she’d listened to jargon-filled conversations between the doctors and nurses and watched them use some equipment that she’d never seen before.

Everywhere she looked, everywhere they’d taken her, things were familiar yet strange, but she could see an evolution of sorts. She’d always had a wild imagination, but it wasn’t this good. If this were really an illusion, there’d be things that didn’t make sense, but that wasn’t the case. Everything fitted. Everything.

Besides, normally, when she dreamed, she only had two senses engaged — sight and sound — but since she’d arrived here, all of them had been in play. She could smell the antiseptic of the clinic, she’d tasted the awful scrambled eggs they’d given her to eat this morning, and she could feel the stiff fabric of the olive-green pants they’d supplied her with after her shower. It was distinct, solid, and Lia had no choice except to believe she was in 2050, as they’d told her.

A coma would be much more comforting.

She swallowed the urge to whimper, afraid her guards would hear it. Being confined wasn’t a totally bad thing; it had given her time to think. To calm down.

If she didn’t end up in prison as a spy, maybe this era wouldn’t be so bad. They’d probably solved the problems plaguing her time like global warming and clean water. Maybe no one went hungry any more and everyone had health insurance. This time might be great. Although what was this coalition the colonel had accused her of belonging to? That didn’t sound too good.

Lia bit her lower lip. She was worrying about nothing. Society had had forty years to advance — it had to be better now. She’d be fine once she got out of this treatment room, explored her new world, and saw how wonderful it was.

As if in answer to her thought, the door opened. Slowly she sat up and looked into the stony faces of the two MPs. “You, come with us,” the older of them ordered.

Her mouth dry, Lia asked, “Why? Where are you taking me?”

“Ma’am,” the other one said, “please come with us.”

Despite the politeness, his tone was clear — it wasn’t a suggestion. If she didn’t go along voluntarily, they’d haul her out of here. Lia slid off the table on to her feet and started towards them.

“Take your bag, ma’am.”

She detoured to grab it off the chair and clutched it tightly. Were they putting her in a real jail? Is that why they wanted her to bring the bag that contained her clothes?

Each man grasped an arm as she reached them and escorted her down the hall. Damn, she hoped they weren’t returning her to that colonel. He was terrifying, and she wasn’t ready to deal with him again. Not yet.

Lia tried to ignore the way the doctors and nurses stared as she went by. To her surprise, she felt shame. It was stupid, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but realizing that didn’t lessen the emotion.

They reached the front of the clinic and her guards put her in the waiting room near the entrance. “Have a seat,” the polite one told her and Lia took the first chair she reached.

The MPs flanked her on either side, positioning themselves so that they could watch her, the door to the infirmary and the clinic itself. There was only one other person present, a young man who sat behind a half-wall with a counter on top of it. The checkin area, Lia guessed. He gaped at her for a moment before looking away.

Her nerves pulled taut as the silence lengthened. It was obvious they were waiting, but she had no idea why and bit her tongue to keep from asking. They wouldn’t tell her anything.

With the exit in view, the idea of making a run for it was almost too tempting to resist. Almost. Luckily, she was smart enough to know she wouldn’t get far. Lia couldn’t outrun her guards — she was only five and a half feet tall and they were much bigger. And they had guns. That colonel had probably told them to shoot her if she tried to escape. Even if she somehow did get free, she had nowhere to go and nobody to help her.

Clasping her small canvas duffle bag, she wished there were a pair of ruby slippers inside that would take her home again. That would make everything much easier.

Her stomach was churning when the door to the infirmary opened. Almost afraid to look, Lia glanced over and did a double take. She’d never before, not in her entire life, seen a man this beautiful — not even in the movies. Her tension left her like an ebbing wave. “Wow, ” she mouthed silently.

He was dressed in camouflage fatigue pants, boots and an olive-green T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and muscular chest. Imprinted on the left side of the shirt was the insignia for a sergeant — she’d watched enough TV to identify that — and although she didn’t see a holster or any other sign of a weapon, she’d bet he was armed.

One of the MPs went to talk to him, but Lia couldn’t stop staring at Sgt Gorgeous long enough to pay attention to what was being said. He wore his dark hair short — no surprise given his military affiliation — had a strong chin with the slightest hint of a cleft, and when he smiled at something the MP said, she saw that his teeth were perfect.

His golden skin suggested a mixed heritage, but she couldn’t guess what it was and she didn’t care. Vivid blue eyes met hers for an instant and a shiver of awareness went through her. He looked away and she was left feeling bereft.

As stunning as he was, Lia wouldn’t use the word “pretty” — he was too rugged, too sharp-edged for that — and damned if that didn’t make him even more appealing. Who was this guy?

When the men finished their conversation, the two MPs left and the newcomer walked over to her. Sgt Gorgeous smiled and held out his hand. A small shock went through her at the contact, but she savoured the warmth of his fingers. As they shook hands, he said, “Ophelia—”

That knocked her out of her stupor and she interrupted him. “Lia. No one uses Ophelia more than once, got it?”

His grin widened and she forgot to breathe. “Understood.” He released her hand. “I’m Troll Maglaya. I’m assuming escort duty from Dunn and Gomez.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in because she was lost in his deep voice and the way it seemed to swirl over her body and caress it. This man was potent. “Troll? Seriously? That’s what your mom calls you?”

He shook his head. “No, she calls me Chris. To everyone here I’m Troll, understood?”

Lia nodded. “Got it. Troll.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes and smiled. “Should I be insulted that I’ve been downgraded to a single guard?”

“You could take it as a compliment. You’ve gone from two MPs to a Special Ops soldier, and one of us is like a team of twenty regular troops.”

His wink had her heart picking up speed. Oh, my God, she’d flirted with him and he’d flirted back. It was probably instinctual for a guy who looked like him and not a big deal, but the instant man-woman attraction she felt had Lia alarmed. “What happens to me now?” she asked and managed to sound normal.

“I thought we’d get you settled and then have some lunch. You must be hungry.”

“Settled?” Her fingers tightened around the canvas. “In a jail cell?”

“Nah,” Troll said easily, “not unless you insist on it.”

She felt a flutter in her belly and had to remind herself not to fall for this. Maybe some people underestimated him because of his appearance, but she wouldn’t be one of them. She didn’t know a lot about the military, but Lia was aware of how hard it was to become a Green Beret or whatever they were called. Troll might be showing her his nice-guy facade, but below the surface he was formidable and she needed to remember that even if she was wondering how his lips would feel against hers.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

With a nod, Lia stood. She expected him to grab her arm the way the MPs had, but instead Troll put his hand at the small of her back. Heat unfurled, running through her body like a jolt from an electrical wire. Definitely potent, and he had manners — he held the door for her.

Lia stopped and gawked as soon as she stepped outside. Last night it had been dark before the MPs had gotten her to the bottom of the pyramid and she’d hardly seen anything of the city. She looked now, fascinated by her surroundings. There were wide, graceful walkways and plenty of grass, plants and flowers. Most of the buildings were marble and stunningly beautiful. Not quite in the same league with Sgt Gorgeous, but still worth a second glance. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Troll said, “it’s something, isn’t it? It’s too bad the aliens that built the city were long gone before we got here. It would have been interesting to meet them.”

“Aliens?”

“Yep.” Instead of explaining, his hand pressed lightly against her back, urging her forwards. “The mess hall closes in less than half an hour, so we need to move.”

Lia walked. “This planet is outside Earth’s solar system?”

“It is. I could give you coordinates, but no one from your era would get it unless they were an astronomer.” He shrugged. “Most of the people in this time don’t get it either and it’s taught in school.”

Two things occurred to her simultaneously. First, the colonel from hell, or one of his minions of darkness, must have filled Troll in on what she’d said. Second, Sgt Gorgeous was talking as if he thought she had time travelled — or at least he was going along with it. Lia pulled him to a halt and, looking into his eyes, she asked, “You believe me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t need to ask what she was talking about.

There was nothing flirty in his gaze now and nothing shifty either. That didn’t mean he wasn’t lying, of course, but she needed someone to believe her and she wanted it to be him. “I want to go home. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know how I can help you.”

“I need a wormhole or an atom smasher.” Lia rapidly filled him in on what she thought had happened last night and he listened to her. Really listened.

“We don’t have either thing here, but even if we did, have you considered that it might take you somewhere else besides your own time?”

No, she hadn’t, but. “The odds against the first one opening were astronomical, and the chances of a second one appearing that went somewhere else must be next to impossible.” That was logical, wasn’t it? “To be honest, I was kind of hoping that in this time you’d mastered how to summon and use wormholes, but since you haven’t, I guess I’m stuck here.”

She thought she’d done a good job of concealing her emotions, but Troll’s response told her she was wrong.

“I know you’re scared — who wouldn’t be? — and I know it’s tough to leave your family behind, but I’ve never heard anything about wormholes being created or used.”

“I don’t have any family left,” Lia told him and ignored the stab around her heart. The loss still hurt years later, but she’d become used to the hollow feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. After a pause, he added, “You know, if you give it a chance, you might like 2050 and I’ll do what I can to help you adjust.” He winked at her again, and, inclining his head, said, “Come on. I’m starving and don’t want to miss mess.”

Lia didn’t move. “Why do you believe me when your colonel doesn’t?”

Troll shrugged. “Maybe I’m more open-minded than the Big Chill, or maybe I have more imagination. Or maybe I have some sixth sense that he doesn’t.”

“Sixth sense?” Something about the way he’d said that caught her attention. “Do you mean you’re psychic?”

His lips curved slightly. “If that were the case, don’t you think my nickname would be the Prophet? That isn’t something my team would let slide.” Troll took her hand and, lacing their fingers, began to walk.

“If they were aware of it,” she murmured, but when he simply raised his brows and smirked, Lia had to laugh at herself. She was grasping at shadows, probably because her leap forwards was fresh in her thoughts.

She pushed the idea aside and relished the warmth of his calloused palm against hers. He was a stranger, but he treated her in a way that was almost casually intimate. That wasn’t what made her uneasy. The part that unnerved her was how natural it felt, as if it would be wrong if he wasn’t touching her. She needed to get her mind off this before she started dreaming up really stupid ideas. Lia tugged free, trying to dispel the weird sense of rightness, and said, “This place is like a ghost town. Where is everybody?”

“Around somewhere. There’re only about five hundred people inside a city that once held up to fifty thousand. It always looks like this. You’ll get used to it.”

Lia didn’t want to get used to it. She wanted to glance up and see aeroplanes leaving contrails; she wanted to go into Starbucks and grab a cup of coffee; she wanted to deal with crowds and traffic. But she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like she could change anything, and Troll couldn’t either. He took her hand again and this time she hung on, needing the connection as they continued through a nearly empty alien city.

They turned a corner into a square. Smack dab in the middle was an unsightly corrugated metal building with a flagpole in front of it. Now she saw a few other people and she expected Troll to release her. He didn’t. “Let me guess,” Lia said, “we brought that monstrosity from Earth.”

“You know it.”

Something else caught her eye. “That isn’t the US flag.”

He gazed at her for a moment before he said, “It belongs to the Western Alliance. There are a lot of Americans here, but this is an Alliance outpost.”

“Western Alliance?”

“You had the European Union in your time, right?” When she nodded, he said, “It’s like that — mostly — except with more countries involved. The history is convoluted and it evolved throughout the years and with each of the wars.”

“Wars?” Maybe this time wasn’t more advanced than hers.

“Sorry, my explanations are only raising more questions for you. I’ll stop and let you read up on what’s happened the last forty years. Links will take you from topic to topic and you’ll get more complete answers than I can give you.” Troll’s expression turned sheepish. “History wasn’t my favourite class. I passed it, but I didn’t pay much attention.”

History. Things that hadn’t occurred for her yet were events from his past. Some of it had likely even happened before. “When were you born?” she demanded.

“June 3, 2018.”

Her eyes went wide and she did some maths. “My God, I’m thirty-six years older than you are!”

He shook his head. “If you’d lived through all that time, yeah, but you didn’t. From what the Colonel told me, you’re four years younger than me.”

“Your colonel talks a lot,” Lia grumbled.

“A briefing is different than gossip, and when it comes to a mission, there’s no such thing as too much intel.”

She was a mission? Blood roared in her ears for a moment. She was on her own in a time and place where she wasn’t sure of the rules, but she’d ridiculously latched on to Troll as her guide. “I’m only an assignment?” Lia asked, unable to stop herself.

“You know better than that. Believe me, I don’t handle my missions like this. If I did, I’d have been booted out of Spec Ops a long time ago.”

And that easily, the weight on her chest eased enough to let her take in air. “What else do you know about me?”

“What else did you tell Sullivan?” Troll countered, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm, arousing as well as relaxing her. “He might have sent a request to Earth to get more information, but it’s too early to have anything back yet.”

Time lag in communications. She hadn’t thought about that, but she should have. Lia was still mulling it over when she recognized where they were — in front of the security building. The MPs had dragged her here last night after they’d escorted her to the bottom of the pyramid. Her heart kicked into high gear again and betrayal made a lump block her throat. She dug in her heels, refusing to move forwards. “You said we were going to lunch, but you’re taking me back to that colonel, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m bringing you to my quarters to drop off your stuff and the quickest route happens to take us past security headquarters.”

She wanted to believe him. Troll was the only one who seemed to be on her side and she needed that. She needed him. Because of it, Lia stared hard, trying to see the truth.

“The MPs could have brought you to security HQ without involving me.” He squeezed her hand, his thumb continuing to caress her skin. “And we both know I didn’t have to lie to get you here. You’re not exactly operating from a position of power.”

Reluctantly, she nodded. Troll was right, it wasn’t as if she could refuse to go anywhere, but this. connection. she felt to him made her idiotic. “Your quarters?” she asked.

“Yeah, I —” He stopped abruptly, straightened, and though his left hand continued to hold hers, his right went to his forehead to salute a man drawing near.

Half afraid she’d see the colonel, Lia turned to get a better look. It wasn’t Sullivan, but some other officer and her muscles unclenched. She watched the man drop his gaze to their joined hands, then look back up at them. He returned the salute, shook his head, and kept going. Only then did Troll relax.

“He’s sure good-looking,” she said. “Who was that?”

Troll scowled. “Major Brody. He’s married with three boys and devoted to his wife so you’re out of luck.”

Did he sound jealous? Lia scoffed at herself for having the thought. Not only did they meet maybe ten minutes ago, but Troll had to know that very few males could measure up to him in the gorgeous department. “It was just a comment and some curiosity, not a plan to hunt the man.” And before she could stop herself, she added, “But I can see how a guy like you would be insecure about his appeal. I’m guessing you were nicknamed Troll because of how ugly you are?”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “Something like that.”

He tugged gently and she fell into step with him. It wasn’t until after the metal building was out of sight that she asked, “Why did you keep hold of me when you saluted? Your colonel made it clear that he thought I was a spy, aren’t you worried about getting into trouble for associating with me? And why did that major shake his head, but not say anything?”

This time it was Troll who stopped walking. “We’re never going to make it to the mess hall for lunch,” he muttered. He glanced around and led her to a bench against the front of a dove-grey building. “Have a seat.”

Lia quelled the urge to ask why and did as he suggested.

Troll sat beside her, his thigh nearly brushing hers, and stared straight ahead. For a moment, he didn’t speak and she had a sense he was trying to decide what to share. Finally, he said, “Major Brody shook his head because I have a reputation with women.”

“Undeserved?”

Troll sighed, but confessed, “No, I earned it, but I reformed about two years ago. Not that anyone except my teammates believes it, but it’s the truth.”

Lia considered that and decided it was better to leave it alone. “What about you being so cosy with a suspected spy?”

That got her a frown and another admission. “The Colonel suggested I romance you if necessary to get information about your mission. If someone reports we’re holding hands, it’ll get chalked up to my following orders.”

She tried to jump to her feet, wounded by his words, but Troll snagged her wrist and held on.

“Listen to me,” he said, turning towards her to meet her gaze. “I wouldn’t have told you this if I planned to do it. I informed Sullivan I wouldn’t prostitute myself for the Alliance. You can ask him the next time you see him. What’s between us. it feels right. You sense it, too, Lia.”

Yes, she did, but. “We just met. We don’t know each other.”

“I’m aware of that, but it doesn’t seem to matter.”

It didn’t. “I don’t want this,” she said, but Lia couldn’t stop staring into his eyes, couldn’t stop thinking about pressing her lips to his, as long as his mouth was this near anyway.

“Me either, but some things are too powerful to fight.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were a fatalist.” She couldn’t kiss him out here on the street. Could she?

Troll shook his head. “I’m not. We have free will, but I do believe in destiny and you’re mine.”

Heat built low in her belly. One quick peck, just to find out what it was like. “It’s too soon.” But he was right, it didn’t seem to matter. Damn, she wanted to taste him.

“I’ll back off.”

He stood and she did as well. The hell with it, she decided. Lia dropped her bag and put her free hand on his nape to keep him close. “This is a mistake,” she murmured.

And, leaning into him, she brushed her lips over his.

Desire slammed into her with breath-stealing strength and she needed more of him. Wrapping both arms around his neck, she went back for a second, longer kiss. Still not enough. She ran her tongue over his lips and Troll opened for her as his hands went to her waist, pulling her tightly against his body. Good. He felt so damn good.

So damn perfect.

Destiny. That thought frightened her enough to break the kiss and quickly put distance between them. One glance at his darkened eyes, the desire on his face, almost had her tossing aside common sense and going back for more, but Troll banked his heat before she gave in to the urge.

“Come on,” he said thickly. “We might still make lunch.”

She retrieved her bag and fell into step beside him. This time he didn’t hold her hand and Lia had to curl her fingers to keep from reaching for him. It was too soon and she didn’t fit in here. Did she? Of course not. Just because she felt in sync with this one man, it didn’t mean she belonged.

If it wasn’t for that damn vortex, she wouldn’t have to deal with any of this crap. Maybe the Einstein-Rosen Bridge closed instantly, but her wormhole was the Troll Bridge, and it seemed it had been open for business.

“Here we are,” he said, pointing towards a house.

It was small — well, small compared to some of the buildings here, but certainly not tiny by normal standards — and made of cream-coloured stone. There were two wide slate steps leading up to a welcoming front porch, but before she could appreciate much more than that, they were at the entry.

“Just drop your bag inside.” He opened the door for her. “We don’t have time to go in.”

Lia did what he said. Troll closed the door again, took her hand, and hurried them off. “You really are hungry,” she said.

“I missed breakfast helping the Z Man put together a trike for his kid. Who knew it would be that hard and take that many hours?”

“The Z Man?” She was slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with his long strides, but she didn’t ask him to slow.

“One of my buddies.” They reached another metal building and Troll pulled the door open. “Made it.” His smile gave way to a soft groan. “A long line this late isn’t a good sign,” he explained when she looked at him.

They stood in it anyway. He asked the group in front of them if they knew what was going on, but they didn’t. A few minutes later, Troll spotted someone. “Sasha,” he called. A pretty blonde woman came over holding a tray and Lia felt her heart jam in her throat when Troll leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“The team’s back?” Sasha asked and she sounded hopeful.

Troll shook his head. “No, I was pulled for another assignment. Sorry. What’s going on with the line?”

“All the ovens, stoves, and anything else that could heat food crashed. Another of the infamous J. Nine tech glitches. It’s a chicken sandwich or nothing.” She nodded towards her plate and then looked at Lia. “Hi, I’m Sasha Cantore and you’re.?”

“Lia Stanton,” she said, but her voice was choked.

“Troll, you get Lia’s lunch,” Sasha told him. “She can wait at a table with me while you stand in line.”

“I’ll stay here,” Lia said.

“Go ahead. Sash will take good care of you and it’ll give you a chance to meet the team wives. Y’all are together, right?”

Sasha shook her head and said dryly, “No, I had a session that ran over schedule. Since we don’t travel in packs like the team husbands do, I can only guess that the other team wives have already eaten and are either working or with the team children.”

“Smart ass,” he said amiably. “Sasha is married to Flare, the team’s warrant officer. She’s also a shrink, so be careful what you say.”

Relief washed through her, but Lia refused to consider why it made her feel better to know this woman was tied to Troll’s friend and not someone he’d had a romantic relationship with. His warning registered a moment later — she’s a psychologist, so don’t mention time travel. “Got it,” she assured him. Sasha started to walk away, but Lia hesitated. “You trust me not to run off?”

“I trust you, period, Lia.” He gently tugged the ends of her hair. “And there’s no point in both of us waiting when you don’t have to decide what you want for lunch, right?”

“I suppose,” she said reluctantly and went over to where Sasha stood. As soon as Lia got there, the blonde turned and headed deeper into the mess hall.

“So you’re Troll’s woman,” she said as she wound her way through the tables.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would,” Sasha disagreed. “Troll letting you come with me is almost as good as him bringing you home to meet his family and about as close as he can get to that on Jarved Nine.”

Lia shook her head. “We just met.”

“It happens that way sometimes. I knew the first instant I saw Flare that he was going to be important to me. We hit a few obstacles along the way, but we’re together twenty years later.” Before Lia could comment, Sasha said, “There’s an open table.”

The doctor waited until they were seated to begin quizzing her, but it was done with such good-natured interest that Lia found herself sharing more than she intended. The colonel-from-hell could learn a thing or two from this woman, she decided, but she liked her. Some of Lia’s answers were odd, she knew it from the confusion she’d see cross Sasha’s face from time to time, but the psychologist didn’t look at her like she was off-centre and she liked the easy acceptance.

What was taking Troll so long? Lia swivelled in her seat and studied the line until she spotted him. He’d nearly made it to the food. She turned back in time to see Sasha’s smile. “It doesn’t mean anything,” Lia blurted.

“No? I don’t think you realize how many times you’ve glanced over to check where Troll is, or how your tension level has risen the longer you’ve been separated from him. Like it or not, you’ve developed a bond with him.”

Lia opened her mouth to explain again that she’d just met the man, but it had gotten her nowhere with Sasha earlier and Lia doubted repeating it would make any difference. The doctor had her mind made up. With a silent sigh, Lia let it go. What did it matter anyway?

She didn’t believe in love at first sight, and no matter what this woman thought, Lia hadn’t fallen for a blue-eyed stranger with a sexy smile. Destiny be damned.

Troll held Lia’s hand again as they meandered slowly through the city. Dusk was settling, but it wasn’t dark enough yet for the lights to come on. He felt a pang of guilt over having fun today while his team was searching for a spaceship that didn’t exist, but it wasn’t like he could tell the Colonel anything, not without getting into explanations he’d rather not make about things Sullivan would never believe.

The drawing of Lia was tucked safely inside his wallet, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. From the moment Gram had given it to him, Troll had known this day would come. No psychic was ever accurate all the time — free will caused things to change frequently — but it hadn’t mattered. He’d simply known.

Maybe that was why he’d played so free and loose with women when he’d been younger. No point getting attached to one when Lia would arrive someday.

Despite this, he’d still needed a good ten minutes after seeing her this afternoon to corral the fear. He’d walked away from the infirmary and paced until his hands had stopped shaking and his breathing had slowed to normal.

Free will. He had it, too. Just because Gram had said the woman in the drawing was The One, it didn’t mean he had to go along with that. If he wanted, he could do his job and walk away at the end of it without a problem. Troll had long ago mastered the art of remaining disengaged on any meaningful level.

And then he’d touched Lia’s hand.

As easily as that, the apprehension had evaporated as if it had never existed and he’d seen the future. One possible future. He and Lia had been playing together, laughing, and he’d felt the depth of the emotion between them. It had decided things for him and brought up a new concern — could he convince her to give it a chance and see where things went between them?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Lia said.

“Sorry. I was thinking about how much I’ve enjoyed spending the day with you. My teammates are going to give me shit for pulling this duty while they’re roughing it outside the city walls.”

“Why would they do that? It wasn’t your decision.”

Troll grinned. “Because I plan to rub their noses in it. If they didn’t give it right back to me, I’d be worried.”

Her laugh travelled through his body and left his cells buzzing. He hardly knew her, not really, and even if she was The One like Gram said, like his own vision seconded, it didn’t mean they were meant to be together in this life. The idea made him want to learn everything he could about her just in case this was all he had.

“If you could do anything you wanted, what would it be?” Troll asked, picking one of the dozen questions jumping in his mind. “I mean, in whatever time you’re in or whatever world you’re on.”

“You want to know my big dream, huh?”

“I want to know all your dreams.”

Silence. He could sense her reluctance and decided it would help if he went first. “You know what I’ve always wanted to do? Buy a sailboat and travel around the world, go from place to place and stay as long as I like. Maybe dock her and head inland when the urge struck. It’ll never happen, though.”

Lia looked at him. “Why not?”

“The war for one. Even after it ends, it won’t be safe. There are mines, old hatreds,” he explained when she appeared confused. “Bunch of other issues. Money is another factor. Boats aren’t cheap, not ocean-going vessels — and supporting myself while I sailed?” Troll shook his head. “The logistics aren’t workable, not for a man earning army pay.”

“But if you really wanted to. ” She trailed off.

“Maybe that’s it. I don’t want it badly enough.” He shrugged. “Definitely not badly enough to leave Spec Ops.”

They walked without speaking for a few minutes before Lia asked, “Have you considered that Special Ops is your dream?”

That stopped him in his tracks and Troll thought about it. After a few moments, he nodded slowly. “You could be right. It’s never been something I sat and thought a lot about, though, not like the boat.”

“The boat’s your fantasy, a way to leave behind the stress of life for a little while. Fantasies and dreams are different.”

She said that with such authority that Troll smiled. “So your fantasies about climbing on top of me and having your wicked way are different than your dreams?”

Even in the fading light, he could see the blush stain her cheeks. “You can’t know — I never said —” When his grin grew bigger, her eyes narrowed and she groaned. “Damn, you were fishing. ”

Troll released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders instead. “Yep. So now that you probably can’t get much more embarrassed, why don’t you share your dream?”

“You’re more diabolical than I thought.”

“I prefer to think of it as ingenious.” He kissed the top of her head, steered her towards a nearby park, and sprawled beside her on a bench. They had a view of the city from here, including the pyramid, but the thing was so flipping huge that it was hard to avoid it. She still didn’t say anything, but Lia snuggled into his side and Troll enjoyed the warm weight of her against him as he waited for her to talk.

Lights were illuminating the buildings when she finally spoke. “You’re patient, aren’t you?” Lia didn’t pause for an answer before continuing, “I want to be a writer, OK? Not for company newsletters or employee magazines, I mean stories. Fiction.”

She tensed slightly as if bracing herself for his reaction and it made him wonder if in the past others had scoffed when she’d found the courage to share her dream with them. “Yeah? Cool. I’ll read for you if you want.”

“What?”

The disbelief in her voice stung, but Troll pushed it aside. He couldn’t blame her since she hardly knew him. “I know, you’re thinking a guy like me won’t be much help, but while school wasn’t my thing, I’ve always loved to read.”

“I wasn’t—” Lia sat up and stared at him. “People discount you because you’re so good-looking, don’t they? That’s what you thought I was doing.”

Troll shrugged.

“Idiot.” She scowled. “I’ve been with you all day and you snagged me on the sexual fantasy thing. I’d have to be stupid to miss how sharp you are.”

His lips twitched. She’d just called him an idiot and then turned right around and said she knew he was smart. “ Why’d you question my offer then?”

“Because usually when I mention I want to write novels, I get laughed at, or humoured, or stared at in disbelief, or my favourite response — ‘You weren’t good enough to get a real job in journalism, but you think you can write a whole story?’ Oh, wait, then there are the practical people who tell me nobody reads any more and maybe I should try writing a movie or video game script, but that isn’t what I want to do. No one has ever offered their help before.”

The hurt lifted and Troll could breathe again. “Well, you got it if you want it. You ever think of writing science fiction? ’Cos I gotta tell you, falling through a wormhole and winding up in the future would make a great story.”

With a smile, Lia settled against him again. “It’ll never sell,” she told him. “And how could I write a book where the heroine returns home again while I’m trapped?”

Troll felt his gut clench, but he kept his muscles loose. They’d been playing, but her comment reminded him that he hadn’t won her yet. He tried to come up with more positives about this time. “Sasha likes you.”

“You can’t know that,” Lia argued.

“Yes, I can. She gave me a thumbs-up sign when she walked behind you.”

“She didn’t.”

She sounded both hopeful and horrified and Troll found himself smiling again. Lia made him happy. It was scary when he thought about it too long, but, hey, he’d been anxious before and taken action. “She did. You’re already making friends.”

Stiffening again, she moved far enough away to break his hold. “Why do you keep trying to sell me on how great it is to be stuck here?”

No guts, no glory, Troll thought and plunged in. “New Orleans, 2002.”

She stared at him blankly.

“You saw Madam Genevieve in a shop not too far from Jackson Square and had a reading done.”

A furrow formed between her brows and Troll watched Lia search her memory. He was aware of the instant it came back to her. “How the hell do you know that?”

“She’s my grandmother.”

“Why would she talk about me so many years after I saw her? It’s not like I ever went back and I can’t imagine she told you about all the tourists she did readings for.”

“She didn’t. Only you.” Troll reached for his wallet, took out the drawing, and unfolded it. For a moment he hesitated, worried about how she’d react, but he passed it to Lia anyway. “She gave me this when I was eighteen and said you were my destiny. Gram told me you asked her about your soulmate. Do you remember what she said to you?”

Her confusion was brief. “That I’d meet him. in the future.” Lia looked stunned. “But she couldn’t know — could she?”

Troll shrugged. “Maybe. Gram is eerie with what she can see, but she didn’t specifically mention time travel to me when we talked.”

She glanced briefly at the drawing and then back at him. “This scares me. Why are you taking it so calmly?”

“I’m not. I’m probably as edgy about this as you are, but I’m not willing to let that stand in my way, not when I’ve spent years wondering how we’d find each other. Let’s throw the dice and discover what we could have.”

Staring into his eyes, she studied him for a moment. Troll remained quiet, giving her time to consider things. “Here,” she said at last and handed him the sketch.

He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t and he put the drawing away. Growing up with his grandmother, Troll was used to the psychic stuff, but most people weren’t and it left them uneasy or sceptical, or both. But he’d thought Lia would be different — she felt the pull between them every bit as strongly as he did, he knew it.

Fear. He sighed. She didn’t have his training and experience, so he’d give her time and let her grow accustomed to the idea of the two of them. It wasn’t as if she was going anywhere.

Lia pursed her lips and Troll found his attention drifting. Damn, he wanted his mouth on hers again when he didn’t have to consider where they were or who might stumble on them. Maybe they should head back to his quarters. They’d have privacy there and he wouldn’t have to worry how far things escalated. He had a feeling they’d both lose control fast.

Her gasp yanked him back to the here and now.

For a split second, he thought she’d read his mind about taking her to bed, then Troll realized she was staring into the city. He turned to see what had her alarmed. No one was coming towards them. “What?” he demanded.

“The wormhole.” She pointed to the top of the pyramid. “It’s back. It’s back!”

And before he could react, Lia took off running.

Lia wasn’t surprised when Troll caught up with her, but she ignored him. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. What he’d said in the park echoed through her mind. Let’s discover what we could have. It was tempting, but she hadn’t opened the vortex and this might be her only opportunity to go home. How could she throw it away on a possibility? On a hope?

She didn’t know where she was going, but she zigzagged through the streets, keeping her gaze locked on the pyramid. Maybe it wasn’t the most direct route, but the wormhole was still glowing when she reached the base.

Troll took her hand, stopping her as she began to climb. Before she could pull free, he said, “There’s a faster way.”

Without giving her time to argue, he brought her around the corner to a tall door that led inside the structure. They travelled down hallways and he pressed crystals that made rock walls slide open. “Secret passages,” Lia said, amazed.

“Yeah.” Troll didn’t sound happy. “Kendall, my captain’s wife, will kill me for showing them to you. She’s protective of this place.”

He took her down a few more long corridors and Lia felt impatience bubble inside. What if the wormhole was gone before they made it to the top? The worry that they’d be too late wouldn’t leave her, and it didn’t matter that Troll was moving at a good clip or that it would have taken her hours to climb the exterior stairs to the altar. “Can we go faster?”

“We’re at the midpoint.”

Lia looked around a large open area. There was sunlight streaming in, but it was night outside and she saw no visible source that could be producing an artificial glow. Everywhere she gazed there was solid stone and carefully manicured plants. Troll led her to one of eight platforms that were arranged in an arc and stood on top of it. She followed although she wasn’t sure why they were standing here.

She didn’t get the chance to ask. A stone balustrade rose from the sides of the dais, not stopping until it reached about waist height. As soon as it was in place, the entire platform began to rise like an elevator. She grabbed on to Troll.

They reached the top and he silently brought her to a second elevator. When they got off that one, he took her through a door that led outside to the flat top of the pyramid. The wormhole was there, glowing and throbbing in some rhythm that only it understood. Home, she thought, taking a step forwards, but Troll put an arm around her and stopped her.

“If you’re going to leave, at least think about it first, don’t walk mindlessly into that thing.”

“I wasn’t,” she protested, but he was right. She’d been mesmerized by it.

“You can’t even be sure this is going to take you back to 2010. For all you know, you’ll end up in Alpha Centauri seven thousand years in the past.”

Lia shook her head. “It’ll take me home. I feel it.” She shrugged, uncertain how she knew this, only that she did. “Maybe it’s trying to correct its mistake. After all, I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Bullshit. That’s a force of nature, not a sentient being who’s trying to balance the universe. And I think you are supposed to be here; that’s why it appeared to begin with.”

“Sometimes it’s not destiny, just an accident. I don’t belong in this time.”

“Lia, give us a chance. If you leave, what do you think the odds are that you’ll be able to come back here? I’d say zilch. That particle accelerator was probably locked down immediately once they realized they had a wormhole big enough for travel. Do you think they’ll let you near it again?”

“No,” she admitted in a small voice.

“Just a chance.” He moved, standing in front of her, and clasped her shoulders with his hands. “You told me you don’t have any family left, so what’s back there for you? Nothing much that I can see. Here you could have something important — we could have something important — but if you leave we’ll never know. Isn’t it worth some time to find out?”

She looked past him at the vortex. Was it pulsing a little faster now? Lia took a step forwards, but Troll tightened his hold just enough to grab her attention.

“You’re frightened, I get that, but you know what scares me more? The idea of spending the rest of my life wondering what we might have had if you’d stayed. Wondering if Gram was right and you were my destiny. Can you walk away and live with those questions?”

“But this might be the only opportunity I have. What if I pass on it, things don’t develop between us, and I can’t get home? What then?”

Troll framed her face between his hands. “I promise you, if you want to go back to 2010 later, I’ll get you there somehow.” He shook his head. “Hell, if the wormhole is tied to the pyramid in some way, Kendall can probably control it. If not, I’ll break us through security for an accelerator in 2050 if that’s what it takes.”

The vortex flickered and Lia sucked in a sharp breath, afraid for an instant that she’d lost her only chance. Troll made staying sound easy, but it wasn’t. “Your colonel thinks I’m a spy. He’ll lock me up or torture me or something if I remain here.”

“Sullivan is a problem, but we can figure out what to do with him. We can enlist the rest of my team and their wives if we have to. Someone will have an answer.”

Again, Lia looked over his shoulder at the vortex, then returned her gaze to Troll. His blue eyes were intense and she could see he meant every word he said. “But what if—”

“There are no guarantees in life, but sometimes you have to take the risk anyway. Stay with me, take this chance. We could have everything.”

“Or nothing.”

“That’s a possibility,” he admitted. “But we’ve got this on our side.”

Troll’s kiss made her toes curl and Lia clutched at him, hanging on as if he were the one who might leave her. She wanted him to distract her, to keep her occupied until the wormhole was gone and she didn’t have to make a decision, but long before she was ready, he broke free.

“It has to be your choice,” he said. And then he stepped aside, leaving her path to the vortex clear.

His actions paralysed her and Lia stared at the lights, watching them spin faster. She wanted to stay, but how could she? Troll was gorgeous, funny, smart, interesting, sexy — everything she wanted in a man — but even if he didn’t feel like one, he was a stranger. How could she turn her back on her home when this time was foreign to her? When she was under suspicion? When either she or Troll could decide that they weren’t meant to be?

The wormhole began to contract and she stepped forwards.

In that moment, Lia realized she was more like her parents than she’d known. They’d been afraid to risk anything, afraid to go for broke, and she was about to leave the only man who’d ever made her feel alive because of the fear. Maybe it wouldn’t work — he was right, there were no guarantees in life — but if she left, it was over right here, right now.

Lia stared at Troll, then at the gateway home.

Her job, her car, her apartment, a life that was familiar and safe. Or a man with whom things might not work out, a possible charge of espionage held over her head, a horrible colonel who thought she was guilty, and a world that was mostly strange to her. Just the thought of staying made her nauseous.

The vortex shrank farther, and with a gasp, Lia rushed towards it.

But before she crossed, she stopped short. Life wasn’t supposed to be mundane and routine. It was about change, about experiences, about dreams. About love. What if Troll was her destiny? What if she spent the rest of her life comparing other men to him and none of them measured up? What if she regretted her cowardice every day until she died? What then?

No promises, but a chance.

She couldn’t live with the what ifs; she had to know whether or not Troll was the love of her life. With her heart lodged in her throat, Lia let the wormhole close.

Tremors shook her body when it disappeared, and she breathed deeply until the urge to vomit passed. It took another couple of minutes until she felt steady enough to walk over to Troll. She stared up at him, letting his steady gaze calm her. “I’m scared that I just made a big mistake, but I’m rolling the dice, Chris.”

Wincing, he wrapped his arms around her and gathered her close. “You won’t regret it, I’ll make sure of that.” He kissed her, but before she was ready for it to end, he stepped away, took her hand, and led her back inside the pyramid.

“Chris!” she protested.

He shook his head. “Why don’t we make a pact? You can call me Chris when we’re home — alone — but otherwise it’s Troll. Deal, Ophelia?”

Now she winced. “Deal. You give as good as you get, don’t you?”

His smile was wicked. “Always. You’ll appreciate that when I have you in bed.”

Heat settled low in her belly and Lia forgot her terror and uncertainty. Life really was an adventure and hers was about to begin.