portable phone, in the other a banana.
“Look, Preston, I want the new ad campaign to be subtle. No dancing tea bags, no heavy-metal music, no talking teddy bears.” On a sound of frustration he yanked the door open. “Yes, that includes waltzing rabbits, for God’s sake. I want—” He spotted his daughter and grinned from ear to ear. “Deal with it, Preston,” he ordered, and broke the connection. “Hi, brat.” He spread his arms and caught her on a leap.
Sunny gave him a noisy kiss, then stole his banana. “The tycoon speaks.”
William grimaced at the portable phone. Such pretensions embarrassed him. “I was just . . .” His words trailed off when he spotted Jacob on the threshold. He searched his mind for a name. Sunny often brought men to the house—friends and companions. William refused to think of his little girl having lovers. Though this one looked familiar, he couldn’t place the name.
“This is J.T.,” Sunny said between bites of banana. She had her arm around her father’s waist.
Two peas in a pod, Jacob thought, pleased that he’d been able to dig up the expression. The same coloring, the same bone structure, the same frank, measuring looks. Taking the initiative, Jacob stepped forward and offered a hand.
“Mr. Stone.”
Since one arm was still holding his daughter—a bit possessively—William stuck the phone in the back pocket of his jeans before he shook Jacob’s hand.
“Hornblower,” Sunny continued, enjoying herself. “Jacob Hornblower. Cal’s brother.”
“No kidding.” The handshake became more enthusiastic, the smile more friendly. “Well, it’s nice to see you. We were beginning to think Cal had made up his family. Come on in. Caro’s around somewhere.”
He released Jacob but kept a firm hold on Sunny as he led the way through the foyer into the living room. Jacob got the impression of bold colors mixed with pastels. And, again, elegant. A simple, timeless elegance.
A few pieces of glittery crystal, gleaming antiques and, of course, what he now realized was Caroline Stone’s stunning art. If Jacob was surprised to find her woven masterpieces so casually displayed on the walls, he was speechless to see another spread on the floor as a rug.
“Have a seat,” William was saying as he walked thoughtlessly over what Jacob considered a priceless work of art. “How about a drink?”
“No, nothing. Thank you.” He was staring at an ornamental lemon tree in the window. His own father nurtured the same type of plant.
“You’ll have to have tea,” Sunny said, patting Jacob’s hand as she sat on the sofa beside him. “If you don’t, you’ll hurt Daddy’s feelings.”
“Of course.” He glanced up at William again and caught his narrowed-eyed, speculative look.
The phone in William’s back pocket rang. He ignored it. Recognizing the gleam in her father’s eye and wanting to delay the questions for the time being, Sunny dropped the banana peel in his hand. “I’d just love some, Daddy. How about Oriental Ecstasy?”
“Fine. I’ll take care of it.”
He disappeared through a doorway, the phone still shrilling in his pocket.
Sunny chuckled and put her hand on Jacob’s again. “I suppose I should warn you . . .” She tilted her head, curious. Jacob was gawking—she couldn’t think of another word for his expression—at one of her mother’s wall hangings. “J.T.? Would you like to tune in?”
“Yes. What?”
“I was going to warn you, my father’s nosy. He’ll ask you all kinds of questions, most of them personal. He can’t help it.”
“All right.” He couldn’t resist. Rising, he walked over to the rectangle of cloth and ran his fingers over the soft material and bleeding colors.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s very beautiful.”
She got up to stand beside him. “She’s become a very well respected artist.”
“She used to sell blankets and things for grocery money.”
“That’s a myth.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” He dropped his hand, shoved it into his pocket. For the first time since he had stepped off the ship he felt totally disoriented. These were people he had learned about from study disks. Historical figures. Yet he was here, in their home. He was in love with their daughter. How could he be in love with a woman who had lived, and died, centuries before he had been born?
Panic. He tasted it. Turning, he gripped her arms. Reality, solid and warm. He was holding it in his hands. “Sunny.”
“What’s wrong?” He was so pale, and his eyes were so dark. “What is it?”
He just shook his head. There was nothing he could say. No words he knew to explain it. Instead, he brought his mouth down on hers and let her flavor chase away the fear.
“I love you.”
“I know.” Moved by the desperation in his voice, she lifted a hand to his cheek. The urge to soothe and ease was still new to her. “We’ll both get used to it eventually.”
“Hello.”
They drew apart to see Caroline standing in the doorway. Her dark, straight hair skimmed her shoulders. Beaded columns swung at her ears. There was a small smile on her face, a quietly lovely face that was animated by large, amused eyes. She was wearing a baggy man’s shirt, trim denim pants and beaded moccasins. In her arms she held a gurgling baby.
“Mom.” Sunny dashed across the room to hug both woman and child. She was taller than Caroline and had to bend slightly to give her the same enthusiastic kiss she had given her father. Laughing, she took the baby. Then, holding him above her head, she began to turn in a circle. “Hi, Sam! How’s it going? Oh, you’re getting so big!”
“He has his sister’s appetite,” Caroline pointed out.
Grinning, Sunny planted the giggling baby on her hip. “J.T., this is my mother, Caroline, and my brother, King Samuel.”
“J.T.” Caroline’s artist’s eyes had already seen the resemblance and made the connection. “You must be Cal’s brother.”
“Yes.” The sense of unreality came back as she crossed the room. Rather than offering a hand, she kissed him.
“We were hoping we’d finally meet some of Cal’s family. He’s very proud of you.”
“Is he?” A trace of resentment came through in his tone.
Caroline noticed it, let it pass. “Yes. Did your parents make the trip with you?”
“No. They weren’t able to come.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in her eyes was brief but sincere. “Well, I hope we can get together one day. Where’s Will?” she asked Sunny.
“Making tea.”
“Of course. Please, sit down. You’re an astrophysicist?”
“That’s right.” He settled back on the sofa, with Caroline Stone opposite him and Sunny on the floor with the baby.
“J.T.’s into time travel at the moment.”
“Time travel?” Caroline smiled and crossed her slender legs. “Will’ll go crazy. Though I think parallel universes are his current interest.”
“What happened to reincarnation?”
“He’s still a staunch disciple. He’s convinced he was a member of the first Continental Congress.”
“Always the revolutionary.” Sunny tickled her brother’s belly as she smiled up at Jacob. “My father likes to pick controversial subjects so he can argue about them. Oh, look! Sam’s crawling!”
“A newly acquired skill.” With two parts pride and one part wonder, Caroline watched her chubby, towheaded
