He stared at her.“Don’t ever believe that, Miss Randall.That she-bear is a wild animal.So is the cub.They’re both unpredictable.”
“I’m getting used to unpredictability,” Shea snapped back, irritated at his use of “Miss Randall.”Whenever she thought they were reaching some kind of understanding, he started snarling again.He made the she-bear look cuddly.
“You don’t know the half of it, Miss Randall.So don’t bait me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”she said recklessly.“I thought I was asking you to keep a promise.”
“Outlaws don’t keep promises.”
“No?”she retorted.“I thought it was just to women.Or Randalls.”
He tried to scald her with his eyes, but she just glared back, ripping him with his own words.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to play with fire?”
“Who started it?”she demanded, incensed at his attitude, his hostility, during the past three days.She’d felt as if she were walking on eggshells, that her belief in him had been thrown back in her face, that …
Rafe felt the side of his mouth twitching suddenly.Shea’s face was set with determination, those blue-gray eyes luminous with something he couldn’t, didn’t want to, understand.
He looked down at his hand to remind himself to stay away from her.
“Don’t,” she commanded softly.
He raised his gaze to meet her eyes.There was so much understanding, so much compassion in her face, it seemed to smother what was left of his anger, the anger he held on to for dear life.
He didn’t want her compassion, dammit.Or her pity.He thought about walking away, as he had before, but that would be admitting that she’d hit a raw nerve.Hell with it.He would give her what she wanted, and perhaps then she would stop probing into places she didn’t belong.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said shortly, and started for the woods.He knew she would follow him.
Though she had won this particular battle, it felt good to be wandering these woods again.It felt … soothing to have her with him, even behind him.Just knowing she was near, hearing the soft sound of her boots against the pine needles, was a fine thing, no matter how much he tried in his mind to color it with anger.
If there had been any wildlife at the pool, it had scattered by the time they reached the lake.The water that fell from the rocks above seemed to glisten with sunshine, and the blue seemed purer than before.Rafe wondered whether it was Shea’s presence that seemed to make colors more vivid, more fanciful.
She was absorbing them with a delight that never stopped surprising, and touching, him.The simplest of things seemed to make her happy, like a child, and yet there was also a maturity about her that complemented the innocence that mesmerized him.It had been a long time since he’d experienced innocence.
He turned around abruptly.“I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Don’t go.”Her voice was soft but determined.
He glared at her.“Don’t play games with me, Miss Randall.I’ve been in prison a very long time.I warned you before what that does to a man.”
“Rafe.”Her voice caressed the name.He didn’t know whether she meant to do that or not, but the effect was the same.It was like lightning running through his veins.It was also like a leash pulling him to her.He fought against it—but in vain.
“What do you want, Miss Randall?”His voice was harsh with wanting, with frustration.
He saw her swallow.“I don’t know …”
“You’d better decide,” he said roughly, “or you won’t have a choice in the matter.”
Shea felt the lump in her throat swell.Shedidn’thave a choice in the matter.She hadn’t since that kiss three nights ago, since that flash of agony crossed his face, and she’d recognized his complete loss of any kind of hope or dream.She hadn’t entirely understood until then, until that spurt of anguished despair revealed the depths of what had been done to him.He had appeared so strong, so confident, even prideful, that she hadn’t realized how much his core had been eaten away by injustice, an injustice she no longer doubted.
She wanted to heal him.That was part of it.But it wasn’t all.She had meant what she said about the brand not making a difference to her, not now that she knew him.She ached to have him touch her again, with that same gentleness he had before.She had never known anyone could touch like that, the very restraint vibrating between them, stroking sensations like a fine violinist coaxing music from his strings.
Shea didn’t answer but instead moved toward him.
“Shea?”His voice was ragged.
The fingers of her left hand reached up to his mouth and closed off any further protest.She didn’t let herself think about what she was doing.Instincts guided her.Feelings.Emotions.
