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As they hurried up the stairs, he turned to see her following him, the light from her lamp showing the strain on her face.
His chest tightened. Maybe she wouldn't be in trouble at all if she hadn't stopped to get him out of that trap.
At the landing, he turned and walked a few steps across the room and found a closed door, it led to a hallway and a door to the outside, much like the entrance where they'd first come into the building. Which meant that they had two ways to get out. They went back down.
He thought Rinna was right behind him. But when he turned, she wasn't there.
CHAPTER TEN.
LOGAN'S HEART STOPPED, then started to pound in double time.
He wanted to call out to Rinna-but if someone had grabbed her, that would give him away.
Or maybe she'd found that getting close to him too threatening and had fled.
Because he didn't know if someone was going to jump out of the shadows at him, he divided his attention between the area at mid-level and the floor. When he spotted Rinna's footprints leading toward another doorway, he breathed out a sigh.
But just before he reached the entrance, he heard her make a strangled sound.
Heedless of what might be on the other side, he charged through the door and found Rinna standing in front of a closet, perhaps where the priests had hung their robes. Instead of religious garments, he found something else-men's clothing, neatly folded or draped over hangers.
He riffled through the garments, seeing sweaters, jeans, loafers, cowboy boots, work s.h.i.+rts, khakis. The normal clothing of everyday life in the world where he came from.
In addition to clothing, he found money-good old U.S. currency.
"What the h.e.l.l is this?" he growled. "Have you been playing some kind of trick on me? Are we really in some part of the United States."
"No," she whispered.
"Then what?"
"I... don't know," she answered, her voice quavering.
"I think you do. But you're clamming up, as usual." He made a sound of frustration. "Well, with all this clothing here, I'm d.a.m.ned if I'm going to stand around naked."
His jaw set, he put down his lamp and began riffling through the stacks of pants and found a pair of jeans his size. Then he pulled a b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt off a hanger and jammed his arms into the sleeves. Finally he grabbed socks and a pair of size nine running shoes.
When he looked up, Rinna had pulled on a T-s.h.i.+rt. It was much too large, but probably she could get away with the baggy look.
As she began searching for pants that would fit her, he pulled out several and held them up. They were all too big, but she stepped into one, then tried to drag the zipper up. After watching her yank fruitlessly at the tab, he reached for her hand.
When she felt his touch, she jumped.
"Let me show you how to do it."
She gave a little nod.
"Like this."
He leaned over and held the bottom of the fabric to stabilize the zipper, then slowly pulled up the tab. He was just helping her dress-like he'd help a little kid. But he felt her hold her breath as his hand traveled over her center.
He made an effort not to press against her. But it was impossible to avoid all contact. He concentrated hard on the simple task because he wanted to show her he could touch her so intimately without getting aroused. He was only partially successful.
She started to step away and tripped over the pants legs pooling around her feet.
His hand shot out to steady her. "We need to roll those up."
Again she gave her a.s.sent with a nod, and he hunkered down in front of her, keeping his head bent as he folded up one pants leg and then the other.
When she swayed on her feet, she reached out a hand to his shoulder to steady herself. He wanted to press his face against her middle, but he kept methodically working, evening out the cuffs of the jeans as though her life depended on the exercise. And perhaps it did, he suddenly realized.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he said.
"Why not?"
"You're not used to wearing this clothing are you?"
"No."
"Will it get in your way if you have to fight?"
"I don't know." She whirled away from him, moving her hands in the air, making some impressive martial arts moves.
He watched her focus on the drill, watched her graceful moves, knowing she was using the exercise to distance herself from him.
"You need shoes. But none of them are going to fit."
He searched through the shelves and found some running shoes in a mens seven and a half. With a thick pair of socks, they stayed on her feet.
He let her move around in them for a few minutes, then stopped her with a gruff order. "Enough."
Her head jerked toward him.
"Tell me what all this stuff is doing here."
She swallowed. "I don't know for sure. Anything I tell you will be... speculation."
"Let's have your best guess."
"Falcone is planning an invasion," she said, speaking very fast as though she wanted to get the words out before she lost her nerve.
He wedged his fists against his hips. "An invasion of what?"
"Your world," she said in a barely audible voice.
"Maybe you'd better explain that."
She made a broad sweeping motion with her hand. "This place is a mess. I don't mean this room. I mean this whole..." She gave a little shrug. "This whole universe. It's a lot like where you come from," she went on. "You can breathe the air. You can eat the food. We even speak your language. But there are things that are very different between the two worlds. I found some of your history books. You have something called the atomic bomb, don't you?"