Page 58 of Laird Of Her Heart

He enjoyed exploring all the trinkets Jenny had sent with Declan, enjoyed quizzing Maggie on their purposes. The toilet paper befuddled him, as did Maggie’s delight at finding it. He really enjoyed the perfume Jenny had sent, but he was especially intrigued by the Swiss knife and the powerless egg beater drill her cousin had found at a store that specialized in prepping for the Zombie Apocalypse.

But then, men were probably bedazzled by tools no matter the era they lived in.

Dominic was also fascinated with the book Jenny had sent—The Macintoshes of Dar.

Maggie came upon him reading it in bed when she went to check on him one morning.

Though the sight of him poleaxed her—beautiful and braw, stark naked on the bed, reading a book, was there ever a more alluring vision?—she attempted a glower. She propped her hands on her hips and growled, “You’re not supposed to read that book.”

He glanced up at her and grinned. “It’s interesting.”

She tried to tug it away from him but he resisted. “Come on. I want to read it.”

He pulled her down by his side instead. Kissed her brow. “You’ve read it.”

“I have. But it’s different now.”

“The book changed?”

She shrugged. “History changed. We changed it.” Fortunately not too much. Liam had not died without sons; her family lineage was intact. And Declan had assured her the Nazis lost the war…and Starbucks still served leaded coffee.

“I like that.” Dominic kissed her again. He was so warm, his skin so soft. She regretted her decision to wait until he was fully healed to have him again. “We changed history, you and I.” He turned back to the book, opening it to a page near the back and she frowned.

“It’s not good to know too much about your future.” She knew this. It was an immutable fact. It was brought up in each and every time travel movie she’d ever seen.

“I’m no’ reading about my future.” He curled her against him and pointed to a very familiar photo, a smiling woman in the arms of a very handsome man who stared down at her in adoration. “Did you know this woman made a fortune selling apples?”

She patted his arm. “I do. That’s my grandmother. And it wasn’t apples. It was Apple stock.”

“Stock?”

“In 1980, she invested in a small start-up company that made computers—” At his frown, she began again. “A company that made…tools for people.” Surely he would understand that. “She invested on a whim because she liked the name.”

“What was it?”

Maggie winked. “Macintosh.”

His chuckle warmed her.

“Anyway, it was a smart investment and it made her very rich.”

He flipped back a few pages. “Was there really a world war?”

“Hmm. A couple.”

“They sound horrible.”

“They were.”

“And a man on the moon? And these…cars?”

She pulled the book from his grasp. “It’s not a good idea to know too much about the future.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true. Self-fulfilling prophesies, future times, grandfather paradoxes and all that. You don’t want to create a rip in the space time continuum.”

He ignored her blethering. “You really do live in a miraculous age, Maggie.”