"And you love her for it." Eve chuckled before she took a sip of diet soda. "She's exactly what you need, a big, strong, dominant man like you. She'll put you in your place quicker than you can say 'mercy.'"
"I'm scared she's going to try and go back through the mirror."
Eve paused with the soda can tilted to her lips. Her blue eyes widened at his sudden intensity.
"She wants to go back," he added.
Eve swallowed thickly and lowered the can of soda. "Honey, that's only natural. She loves her father. She's left a whole way of life behind."
"I know," Ryan said. Why'd he say that, anyway, when he'd just been thinking about the impossible complications of Hope and him having a relationship? It was because he was worried about her safety, of course. "But there's no telling what would happen to her if she tried to use the remaining mirror. I wish I understood the mechanics of it."
"It's stranger than fiction. I can't help but feel some kind of mechanical explanation would be woefully lacking. Maybe you should ask Alistair about it?"
"Do you really think he knows something about the mirror?"
Eve shrugged. "I don't know for sure. But you yourself have said the circumstances of him giving you the Prairie Avenue mansion were strange. Now we discover there's a mirror in the household that serves as a portal between time periods and you bring this amazing woman back with you—a woman who's clearly as much in love with you as you are her."
Ryan's heart bounded in his chest. Did his mother really think so? He got his answer when she gave him a knowing smirk.
"You're right. About Alistair I mean. I'm going to talk to him about it tomorrow. The strange thing about it is that Hope and I saw each other, communicated and spoke even, by means other than the mirror . .." he trailed off thoughtfully.
"What else is bothering you, Ryan?"
He grimaced. The photographs of Hope and him making love in the Sweet Lash had come to mind. He'd re-hidden them in the secret compartment in the mantel the day they returned.
"There's something I haven't told Hope yet—something about some photographs I found of her at the mansion—"
"Ryan, you never told me you found photographs of me."
He looked around in surprise to see Hope pushing through the swinging door that led to the storeroom.
"I, uh . .. there were some photographs of you in the information Gail gathered for me from the Chicago police archives," he mumbled uneasily. Hope didn't appear to notice anything suspicious in his behavior, thank God.
"I keep forgetting to ask you how those toilets work. It seems quite the miracle the way they flush without a tank above my head," Hope stated matter-of-factly as she joined them.
"And what did you think of the toilet paper?" Ryan asked, his lips twitching with humor.
Hope colored and glanced at Eve apologetically. "Ryan thinks I'm silly for thinking the paper in the bathroom is a miracle of softness."
"I always wondered what people used before toilet paper—" Eve began, but Ryan cut her off.
"Hate to interrupt what I'm sure'll be a fascinating conversation, but I told Ramiro I'd meet him to go over some things I missed at the meeting yesterday."
"You go on, Ryan," Eve said as she grabbed Hope's hand and drew her into the boutique's showroom. "Hope and I will be busy getting her ready for the gala tonight."
"I can't thank you enough for letting me borrow one of your gowns, Mrs. Daire. They're so beautiful, like something an elven princess would wear. I'm a little concerned about the ... er . .. lack of material involved, but if you tell me they're sufficiently modest for this time period, I'll take your word on it."
"We'll get you all set up, darling. You're going to be the belle of the ball," Eve said as she began drawing down dress after dress from the rack.
" Oh, and Ryan said I was to ask you about the specifics of 'bras' as well." Hope turned when Ryan touched her shoulder. He dropped a kiss on her parted lips.
"I'll be back in an hour or two to get you. We should have time to look around the city a little more before we have to show up at the Field Museum," he whispered near her mouth a moment later. Hope slowly lifted her eyelids and stared at him bemusedly. It made him feel like a god that his kiss put that silly, dazed expression on her face. "And don't start wearing bras just because I brought it up."
"You would prefer I wore my corset?"
"I'd prefer you wore neither." Hope glanced nervously at Eve. "I'm sure this is not an appropriate conversation for us to be having in front of your mother," she whispered.
"No worries, Hope," Eve muttered distractedly as she glanced at a green gown and then Hope with a furrowed brow before she rehung the dress. "Believe it or not it doesn't come as much of a shock to me that a healthy thirty-three-year-old male would prefer that a pretty woman not wear a bra." She grinned in a satisfied manner when she drew down a rose-colored gown and held it up to Hope. "Bingo. Looks like Ryan will get his wish."