She'd lowered her eyes and blushed so intensely it'd surprised him. Did she really believe he thought she had a thing for Joseph Sears? She cleared her throat.
"Are you saying that was how you did it, Ryan?" she whispered. She looked up at him cautiously through thick lashes. "Is that how you traveled through time?"
Ryan's mouth gaped open stupidly. He grasped for something logical to say, but the elevator door opened and everyone inside crushed to get out.
It wasn't that he was trying to avoid answering her, he assured himself presently. It just seemed like one thing had led to another since they'd returned to the car and then Prairie Avenue.
And now Hope had disappeared into the bathroom for over an hour.
He knocked on the door.
"Hope? We need to get going. We're going to be late."
"Maybe you should go without me, Ryan."
"What are you talking about?" he shouted through the closed door. "You begged me to go." He tried to open the door but it was locked. "Open up, honey."
His brows furrowed in concern when nothing happened for several silent seconds.
"Hope? Are you all right?"
He heard the snick of the lock being released. The door opened slowly.
Ryan stared.
"Is it. .. bad?" she whispered.
"Bad?" Ryan muttered, poleaxed by the sight of her in the sleeveless, rose-colored gown.
The fabric over her breasts was pleated but fit very snugly. Silver beading just below her breasts further highlighted the most succulent decolletage Ryan had ever imagined.
Below the beading the fabric fell to her toes in a graceful, wispy cloud. Her long, curly hair fell around her shoulders in a sexy spill. She wore no necklace, but the flawless expanse of skin on her chest, neck and shoulders required no adornment. His mother must have loaned her the long, delicate silver filigreed earrings that glittered next to her midnight hair.
She looked ethereal. .. otherworldly.
"You're beautiful," he said as he met her anxious gaze. He wished his words hadn't so
unded so lame, so inadequate. Ryan was used to seeing professional models wear his mother's designs. As a matter of fact, he thought he'd seen a blonde with legs that went up to her armpits model this very design at one of his mother's shows last year. But nothing could have prepared him for seeing Hope standing there in the same gown, looking so uncertain when she deserved tributes of poetry and song to her unsurpassable beauty.
She gave him a tremulous smile. "I feel naked."
"You look like something from a dream. And nobody at the gala is going to think anything other than that. But if that doesn't help any, think of your mother taking off her skirt to calm that panicked guy on the Ferris wheel." His eyebrows rose when her black eyes sparkled. "Surely you have as much courage as her."
That did it. She went to the sink and picked up the tiny silver beaded purse that matched her ensemble. She took a long, deep breath, mastering her anxiety.
"Well, it certainly is easier to do that without a corset," she admitted with a witch's smile.
Ryan noticed Hope's broad grin as they climbed up the white marble steps of the Field Museum.
"Guess you're not disappointed, even though it's not the Field Museum you remember from Jackson Park?"
"Oh, it's exactly what I'd hoped it would be when I heard Mrs. Potter Palmer coaxing Mr.
Burnham into building it several months ago at a dinner party given by the Glessners. He recaptured a bit of the magic of the White City and the Chicago World's Fair. I don't think you present-day Chicagoans have any idea what you owe Daniel Burnham for his elegant city plan," Hope said, referring to the renowned Chicago architect.
She stared up at the fantastic, white marble, neoclassical structure. Glowing lanterns had been set at the edge of every step. Hope felt as though she were attending a party at an enormous Grecian temple. Ryan didn't comment on her proclamation but merely gave a shake of his head, a restrained expression of amazement on his face.
Ryan opened the massive front door for Ramiro, Gail and herself. Hope drew near him and paused for a moment in the doorway.