Time After Time Read Online Free Page A

than to have cucumber in my salad."
    Giving a short bark of laughter, he flopped back on the grass, covering his face with one hand. "And if that's not a lowering thought, I've never heard one," he said in mock indignation. "The importance of my physical presence reduced to indigestion."
    "That's another thing." She sat up, her stare an accusation. "If I'm going to dream your face, why am I dreaming someone else's personality?"
    He propped himself on one elbow to look at her. "You've never dreamed about me before?"
    "No, of course not," she said, frowning. The very idea shocked her. It seemed impertinent, somehow.
    "I've dreamed about you," he said matter-of-factly.
    "Well, what difference—" She broke off, eyeing him in open curiosity. "You dream about me?"
    "All the time." He smiled. "But the dreams are usually... different from this one."
    The idea that he dreamed of her was intriguing, even a little flattering. "Different? How?"
    He raised one heavy, dark eyebrow, which gave him a slightly wicked appearance as he examined her body. Then suddenly, without any kind of hint to warn her, Leah's gown disappeared. One moment it was there, and the next she was naked.
    The Leah who watched from a distance chuckled in gleeful amusement. What a silly woman, she thought. There was nothing in that body that should cause embarrassment. Her high, gently rounded breasts were the kind that inspired sculptors. The slender waist and long legs were perfectly formed—an opinion the man in the scene seemed to share as his gaze roamed Leah's body in open admiration. The Persian-lamp-shaped, rose-colored birthmark that rested low and slightly to the back of her left hip, rather than detracting from the loveliness, added to it—the Maker's stamp of approval.
    Gasping, the Leah by the stream hastily crossed her arms over her bare breasts. Rising to her knees, she turned her back to him. "Put it back! Do you hear me? Mr. Gregory, I want my gown back!"
    Before Leah could even blink, the two parts of her personality merged and the scene changed. She and Mr. Gregory now walked side by side along a cliff
    overlooking a deep, deserted stone quarry. She wore a long, flowing garment that seemed to be made of soft white linen. His was equally long, but looked like a blanket gathered and draped over an embroidered, short-sleeved tunic.
    "How's that for service?" he asked, leaning down to adjust the strap on his sandal. "Not bad at all. A little drafty in places I'm not used to feeling a draft, but not bad." He glanced at her as he straightened. "Under the circumstances, maybe you'd better call me Paul."
    "How did you do that?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, her voice suspicious.
    "I didn't.... At least, I don't think I did. I liked things just exactly the way they were," he said, allowing his gaze to drift over her bare shoulder. "But you know how dreams are. You never know what to expect."
    "Even if I knew 'how dreams are,' this is not like any dream I've ever heard about," she said helplessly. Then she suddenly stopped walking and looked out over the quarry. "Wait! I just thought of something," she said, turning to him eagerly. "Let's jump off."
    He stared at her, his face blank. "Is it something I said?"
    "No... no, listen." In her enthusiasm, she grasped his upper arm with both hands. "In dreams, when you fall, you always wake up before you hit the bottom. If we jump, we'll have to wake up." The neatness of the plan brought a smile of satisfaction to her lips.
    "You're nuts." Now it was his turn to look suspicious. "Forget it. You can do what you want, but count me out." As she sputtered indignantly, he began walking again, talking to her over his shoulder. "People die in their sleep. And they can't come back to say, 'Hey, guess what? I finally hit bottom.' As I said, count me out. I have no intention of waking up dead tomorrow."
    Leah made a face at his back. She hadn't thought of that. And she didn't like the fact that he had thought of it instead