* * *
Ninety minutes later, he returned to the cottage with new samples. The heat and humidity of midday had nearly dried his clothes, and he was hungry for lunch.
He wondered if Teddy had, by chance, made anything to eat. Maybe she’d left something for him to nibble on. It would be the polite thing to do.
After all, hewasbrilliant and had, apparently, somehow, helped her. He grinned to himself.
But when he got inside, the place was quiet and the kitchen empty of even a crumb. The lack of dirty dishes in the drainer indicated she hadn’t eaten and then run, either.
Oscar set his samples on the table and unslung his pack, then tiptoed to the connecting door and eased it open.
Teddy’s bedroom door was closed and silence hung over the cottage.
He waited a minute, but when he heard nothing else—including the agonized groans from yesterday—he decided it was best to retreat.
He was just about to walk back through the connecting door when he heard a thump, like someone smacking a fist onto a table.
He tensed, but then heard, “Brilliant! My God, I ambrilliant!” from behind the bedroom door. After that, silence reigned once more.
Oscar scratched the back of his neck, chuckled to himself, then went to the kitchen for lunch. At least now he could work uninterrupted. He ate, and within forty minutes had another fresh, uncontaminated sample on his slides.
“It’s the same thing,” he muttered. They were there—those microscopic, spiky crystalline shapes that had no business being in the hot springs. They didn’t even resemble anything from nature. A niggle of excitement tickled his brain, and he looked again, admiring how beautiful the shapes were. Like spiky snowflakes, all shades of blue and gray.
It didn’t mean the hot springs had magical powers. That would be ridiculous.
But what if theydid?
No way. He’d been hanging around that crazy writer for too long; she was starting to get into his scientific head.
Oscar tried another sample on another slide. And took a different sample from one of the three Cubitainers he’d filled up himself. He continued to find the same results.
He pulled out his laptop, connected it to the Wi-Fi hub he’d brought, and began sending off images of what he’d found to friends and colleagues. He did some more research, looked up a few unrelated things, and then checked his email. All the while, Oscar felt a strange sort of comfort knowing that Teddy was just beyond the curve-topped door, doing her own work…and not bothering him.
Then he picked up his computer tablet and began to read an e-book by a new-to-him author named T.J. Mack.
And the next thing he knew, he had to turn on a lamp—and he was hungry again. Oscar looked at the time on his computer. Eight thirty?
In the evening?
Where had the time gone?
And where was Teddy? He eyed the connecting door. He’d been engrossed in the book, but surely he would have heard her if she came out looking for food. Maybe she was sleeping by now.
Oscar considered, but he didn’t hesitate for long. He rose and again went to the connecting door. There was silence. This time, he walked all the way across the small vestibule to her bedroom door, and carefully opened it a crack. But he didn’t even need to look inside, for he heard the busy clicking of a keyboard. Damn, she typedfast.
“Youbastard!” she cried. At first he thought she was talking to him, but then she added, “I’ve got you right where I want you.” Then she actually gave a maniacal chuckle, and the keyboard clacked faster.
Fighting a grin, he peered inside and saw that she was sitting at the desk, clattering away on the laptop. He wasn’t certain whether to bother her, but he did take a minute to admire the way her clipped-up hair exposed the back of her neck. All at once, he had the urge to plant a kiss…right there. At the base of her slender neck.
And then he remembered the handful of warm, soft, curvy woman who’d thrown herself at him earlier today. And the sweet-peach-scented one who’d curled up next to him on the lighthouse last night and gushed over his name and his sister’s.
He swallowed hard.
He had no business thinking about Teddy that way when he was in love with another woman.
And of course he was still in love with Marcie.
Oscar pulled back sharply from Teddy’s bedroom door. He’d just realized he’d spent the last eight hours engrossed in his work—and then Teddy Mack’s book—and he hadn’t thought of Marcie once all day.
