Patrick adjusted the lens in the tube leading away from the aether chamber but couldn’t get it quite right. Every time he thought he had it, it moved. He cursed under his breath at his thick fingers. The professor had had slender hands—like a girl’s, although Patrick had never had the heart to tease him about it. He missed the quirky lad and hoped he was happy digging for clues to the ancient origin of the Eros Element with his beautiful, smart wife in the sands of the Ottoman Empire.
I’m not jealous, not one bit. Mrs. Bailey, formerly Miss McTavish, wasn’t his cup of tea, but he’d started despairing of finding someone who was. At least he wasn’t in poor Chad’s situation, with the love o’ his life right there but unable to see him for what he was or her head would explode or some such.
N
