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the room from behind her. Obviously, the fight to garb her in the correct clothing had been lost for the moment as she still wore her bizarre outfit.
    “You are allowed a short visitation, then I must insist that Miss Lesarris return behind closed doors to complete her toilette.” Wearing a frown that most likely had intimidated lesser mortals, she stormed to one side of the room for a modicum of privacy.
    Sam focused on the object of his quest. “Miss Lesarris, is it?” When she nodded, he waved her toward a low settee.
    “Call me Ava.”
    The name sounded lyrical to his ears. “Please, sit with me for a moment. I would imagine you have questions.” Waiting to settle himself until after she had done so, Sam grinned. “Continue.”
    “Actually, they’re more demands at this point. Did you know these people are trying to force me to wear a torture device disguised as a corset?” Her green eyes flashed with the force of her ire. “That may be the norm in this time period, but where I come from, we’re much smarter. Steel boning? Really? Do they even know how unhealthy that is? Underwire bras are the thing. If they work on them now, the lingerie could be invented sooner.”
    “I see.” He raked his gaze along her tailored suit, appreciating how the cut of the fabric hugged her curves and how the silky material of the shirt beneath was sheer enough that he saw the faint whisper of lace beneath. At that moment he’d give half his fortune to look his fill on such a modern interpretation of foundation garments. “Perhaps you should tell me more about them?” She cleared her throat, and he snapped his focus back to her face. He’d been well and truly caught. “I apologize. Please ignore my last comment.”
    “Men are all the same.”
    The urge to return to the introductory stage burned strong. “Again, I am sorry. I have never encountered a woman quite as forward speaking as you.”
    “Forward speaking? What the hell does that mean?” Her glare could usher in an early winter. “Did you think I’d sit around and wait to be called upon or something? Rush over to you and ask to wait on your exulted self hand and foot?” An arched eyebrow rose. “Yeah, so not going to work with me, buddy.”
    Fascinating woman. I must know more. “Then you confirm you are some sort of time traveler?” How very interesting.
    “Duh. Are you not listening to me? Are we speaking the same language?”
    “Not exactly, but very well.” Sam couldn’t contain the wide grin from her words. “Let’s try a civil conversation and go from there.”
    “Fine, and then maybe you can point me in the direction of a bar? I could really use a cold one right about now.”
    “A cold what?” The woman’s phrasing held him captivated. Her speech and figure kept him spellbound.
    She rolled her eyes. “A beer. Surely you folks have heard of that?”
    “Of course, but ladies in this time period do not indulge, neither do they frequent bars, unless they are of a certain profession that goes hand in hand with liquor.” He raised an eyebrow for emphasis. A stab of pleasure went through him when a wash of pink stained her cheeks. “Ah, you are not that type of woman.”
    “I could surprise you, although I draw the line at trading sex for money. If that’s what you’re thinking, just stop.” The woman crossed one leg over the other at the knee, and his gaze slid to her footwear. Much different from the beaded satin slippers with which he was familiar, these shoes appeared to be tooled from supple leather and sported a heel of at least four inches in height. How did one walk in such uncomfortable-looking things? Yet the extreme footwear showed off her high instep. Erotic images danced through his mind of her clad only in a corset and those shoes. Damnation, knowing this woman would be trouble.
    His estimation of her swung back toward a fallen woman, despite her protest.
    A new wave of heated desire crept over his skin, yet left his cock