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work. She rested her head against the tub s rim and closed her eyes.
Even when I was alive, hot baths were a rare treat, said Gregory. We did not have running water.
This modern era is filled with marvels. It amazes me how many people are restless and discontent, in
spite of these luxuries. The more they have, the less content they are.
Yeah, said Linda. That does seem to be the case, doesn t it? I probably don t appreciate the little
things as much as I should, either. She leaned back and stretched one leg up, letting the water drip from
her toes. With a bar of lavender scented soap, she worked up a lather and rubbed it under her arms,
over her neck and breasts. She felt Gregory s lust burn hotter as her fingers circled her tight, slippery
nipples. Relax, she said, I m going to be in here a while longer.
Wicked temptress. You know how that affects me.
Linda grinned. She soaked for a little while longer, then drained the water and showered briefly to rinse
herself off. She stepped out of the tub and wrapped a thick terrycloth towel around herself. She rubbed
her hair dry, then slipped into a robe.
Ah, Gregory sighed softly. The satisfaction of being freshly clean. Another thing I had forgotten
about.
Linda s heart glowed. It made her happy to share these simple pleasures with him. She felt his
enjoyment, a warmth deep in her chest. Still, she ached for more. She didn t just want to hear his voice.
She wanted to look him in the eye, wanted to touch him.
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Linda bit her lower lip. Gregory, will you appear in a reflection, like you did before? You can do that,
can t you?
Yes, though it s a strain.
Just for a minute or two. Please?
Very well. I will appear in your bedroom mirror.
She felt him slip out of her, like mist moving through her skin. She walked into the bedroom and stared
into the mirror. At first, she saw nothing. Then mist flowed over the mirror s surface. It shimmered, a
white glow which slowly resolved itself into a human form.
Gregory stood there, huge and imposing. A chill ran down Linda s spine. He looked exactly as he had in
her dream. He wore the same old-fashioned clothes, the same long-sleeved, tunic-length, black silk shirt
and trousers. His hair was jet-black and thick, tied tightly back, his skin darkened from the sun, his jaw
rough with stubble, and his eyes&
She stared into them, hypnotized. His eyes were like black ice, cold and penetrating. But deep beneath
the surface was something warm, something human and hungry. They were simultaneously the most
expressive and the most inscrutable eyes she had ever seen. They pierced her very core. Her eyes
moved a little lower and lingered on his broad, sensual mouth, framed by the shadow of a beard. She
remembered the pressure of that mouth on hers, the heat of his tongue, the scrape of whiskers against her
skin.
Linda placed a hand against the mirror. Gregory placed his own huge hand against it, so that their hands
appeared to be touching through the mirror s surface. She could almost feel the heat of his skin. Almost.
They were separated by the thinnest of surfaces, and yet they were worlds apart, unable to truly touch.
Even when he was inside her mind, they weren t truly touching. It was a different kind of intimacy, just as
powerful, but not the same as the primal contact of skin to skin. Tears welled in Linda s eyes -- tears for
him, trapped forever in this gray half-life, alone and adrift, and tears for herself, because she wanted him
so badly, in so many ways, but she couldn t have him& not really. Not in the way she needed. She
stared into his eyes, aching. She wanted to run her hands over him, feel the roughness of his bearded jaw
beneath her fingertips, trail her fingers through that thick hair, rest her cheek against his broad chest and
feel the steady beat of his heart. She wanted to feel his arms around her. It had been too long since she d
lain next to a man. She d always told herself she didn t miss it, that life was so much easier without men
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