Ian McCullough is a man out of time. Really. Like literally. One minute, he's in 1891 working in London on a supposed time machine with a mad, old scientist, and, the next minute, he's 126 years into the future in an ocean-side mansion in Maine. The house and the fortune that comes with it are evidently his, all set up and waiting there for him when he arrives. But he has no idea how or why any of this came about, let alone what he's supposed to do about it. Oh yeah, and no clue how the hell he's supposed to get back to his own time. His only ally is his friend, Robert, who unfortunately, died decades ago--not that that stops him from popping in to offer advice on Ian's predicament. That's all Ian needs. A ghost for a confidant.
Genie Lindsay is an investment adviser who's been hauled out of Manhattan to go all the way up to God-knows-where in Maine to meet a reclusive client. Like the man couldn't be bothered to get on a plane and come to New York where the civilized folks do their business? When she meets Ian, though, she's willing to cut him some slack. The man's gorgeous. A little quirky and oddly sheltered, but gorgeous all the same. She's supposed to explain his finances to him, but she'd like to explain a few other things as well. When her "Girls Gone Wild" attempt at seduction falls curiously flat, she takes it a little personally. But as she gets to know Ian, she realizes he's a man playing by a whole different set of rules--and a secret.
