Her eyes widened. “No!” She tucked in her chin, a disgusted look on her face. “Anal probes? Why?” She squinted, her voice lowering. “Wait, do you want me to?”
“No!” he said firmly, holding up both hands and laughing in earnest now. What a stupid thing for him to say. If she was crazy, the last thing he should have done was give her any ideas. There had to be a rational explanation for all this.
“Good.” She gave an endearing little snort. “Thank the Mountain. I was hoping that wasn’t some crazy Earth custom.”
He stared at her for a beat, trying to get his head around the situation. Fuck, she was cute. Beautiful even. Tall, full breasts, slender, and those eyes! He could lose hours within their depths. Suddenly he was aware of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman. He shook his head to dismiss the rogue thought. The last thing he should be thinking about was sex, but his abductor was the stuff of fantasies. His gaze lingered on her rose-colored mouth as his mind sent him a delicious daydream about those full lips wrapped around his cock.
Rubbing his forehead, he broke off that thought as quickly as possible. He should have his head examined for thinking about fucking her right now. What he needed to do was figure a way out of this.
You’re a scientist, Liam! Start gathering data! “What’s your name?”
“Charlie. Short for Charlotte.”
“Charlotte,” he murmured.
“Oh, you can call me Charlie. Most people do.” A light blush stained her cheeks, and Liam’s pulse quickened. Why anyone would call this gorgeous and sophisticated woman a masculine name like Charlie, he had no idea.
“I like Charlotte. You look like a Charlotte.” Get a grip. Was he actually flirting with her?
“Um, thanks.” She flashed him a showstopping smile.
“My name is Liam. Liam Morris. Not Santa Claus. Not Saint Nick. I was at the North Pole because I’m a scientist who studies ice.”
“You study frozen water?” She gave a breathy chuckle.
“Yes… Kind of… I’m an environmental scientist who specializes in changing ice formations at the poles.”
“Oh.”
“My suit is red so that my partner can find me in a snowstorm, and I have a beard because I’ve been either traveling or working in an Arctic outpost for the past month.”
For a second she shifted on her feet, presumably trying to discern if he was telling the truth. Then she released a stream of curses that had no business coming from an angel’s mouth. “Do you know where I can find the real Santa Claus?”
He gave a muffled chuckle, then stopped when it became clear that she was serious. “In a storybook,” he said firmly. When she looked at him like she didn’t understand, he added, “He’s not real. He’s a story… for children… made up to enhance the holiday season.”
Had he really just had to explain to a grown woman that Santa wasn’t real?
Charlotte groaned and plopped into the chair behind the desk, holding her head. “This is a disaster.”
“The day’s not working out that well for me either, sweetheart.”
She raised her gaze to his. “I am sorry, Scientist Liam, if I have inconvenienced you by bringing you here. But please don’t be alarmed. I can return you to the exact place and point in time when I took you as soon as I’m rested. I promise you I’ll make it right.”
He was about to lay into her about how her actions had most likely ruined his experiment, time travel being impossible even when someone was rested, and how his partner even now had likely already notified authorities, when a bird the size of a dog flew over her balcony and all the words lodged in his throat. Liam straightened to attention. Was that an eagle or an albatross? It appeared bigger than both. Where in the world was he? The veranda was drenched in sun. There shouldn’t be sun this time of year.
On autopilot, he slid his legs over the side of the bed and rose to walk toward the balcony. The floor was polished obsidian, unusual for a ship. He stepped out, into the sun. Where was the glass? Where was the water? This was no ship.
He reached the stone railing bordering the veranda and gaped at the forest beyond it, forcing his brain to grasp that he was not on a vessel at all but in the side of a mountain. He whirled and stared up at the mass of volcanic rock, then back at the forest, then up at the blue sky—blue sky with… His breath hitched. Two suns shone down on him from the sky. Two! He held out his hands, feeling the heat of the suns warm his bare skin. What. The. Fuck?
Another large, prehistoric-looking bird flew overhead. He stumbled backward, craning his neck to get a better look.
“He won’t hurt you. That’s my cousin.” Charlotte leaned against the entry to the veranda, the feathers of her wings fluttering in a warm breeze that drifted up, smelling oddly of orange blossoms. “I’m sure Harlow or Marius will be along in just a moment.”
“Who is—?”
A roar, loud as a jet engine, rumbled through his bones, and Liam whirled to see a massive gold dragon the size of a Boeing headed straight for him. He staggered backward into the room, hit his ass on a chair, and almost flipped over it. He gripped the back to steady himself.
“Are you okay?” Charlotte appeared in front of him. She glanced at a small kitchenette at the back of the room. “Would you like some water?”
