God help him.
God help them both.
Shea nestled her body next to Rafe’s on the narrow cot.She didn’t know whether he was asleep or awake.She wondered wistfully whether she would ever know much about him.
But then his arms tightened around her, and she knew he was just as awake as she, just as aware of the nearness of their bodies.
They’d shared a storm-shaken evening, made even more intense by what had been said.She had felt so betrayed at first, and then she’d known he was lying, for her sake.She’d known it the moment he’d said “Hate me.”Those were not the words of a seducer, and they’d been said in such a ragged tone.
She didn’t know what she was going to do.He would never marry a Randall, probably would never marry anyone, feeling as he did about the scar on his hand.But she felt drawn to him.He obliterated anything and everything else, and she would take whatever he had to give.
Shea wondered whether her mother had felt like that.She had to know why her mother had left her father.Shea knew she would never willingly leave Rafe Tyler, no matter how deep the abyss he dug for himself.She also knew she was walking into one with him.She’d lied to Rafe; the reason she wouldn’t leave was Rafe, not Jack Randall.
Perhaps if she thought Rafe were really dishonest, really a killer, rather than a man seeking his own kind of justice, she would feel differently.
Had her mother thought Jack Randall irredeemable?Had she tried to change him?And failed?
Was her daughter fated to make the same error?Loving the wrong man?
She heard the cub moving around.It was walking well now, although still using three legs, protecting the wounded one.Rafe said it would be time tomorrow to give him back to his mother.
She would miss the little bear.She could give it the hugs and assurances and unconditional love the man next to her wouldn’t allow.
How could she feel so unbearably sad and so … loving at the same time?
Shea moved slightly, feeling the friction of his skin against hers, and blood pulsed through her again.Hot and demanding and wanting.She felt him harden against her, heard his soft groan, and she barely held back one of her own.His hand wandered up and down her back, inciting shivers of expectation.
How could she love someone like this?With so much power.
She moved carefully on the narrow cot so she could see him, so their bodies could fit together again.His usually wary eyes were lazy and sensuous.His mouth crooked with the smallest hint of a smile as his hand touched her face.“You play hell with my … scruples.”
“You finally admit you have some?”she said, hearing the new seductiveness in her own voice.
“Maybe scruples isn’t the right word,” he amended, the wry smile widening slightly.
She snuggled closer, feeling the hot throbbing of his sex against her and the responsive craving inside.Waves of longing surged through her, so strong that a sound that was part wonder, part plea, escaped her lips.
He kissed her.Long and hard and deep.And desperate.She felt the desperation in that kiss, and she answered it with a passion and strength that astounded her.And him.She saw it in his eyes, that guardedness that meant he expected her to recoil, even now.
He still didn’t trust himself.Didn’t trust her.And that increased her longing, her need to make him believe she cared about him in ways that eclipsed everything else.
“Pretty Shea,” he said hoarsely, moving his mouth from her lips down to her breasts, tantalizing her until she felt ready to explode with need for him.His need for her was in his voice, in his hands, but she knew he would never admit it.
She felt the heat and dampness of his body, the urgency of his sex, and she moved against him, wanting to bring him inside her, to make him a part of her in the only way he permitted.As he entered her, her body arched to meet his, matching his demanding rhythm.Her legs went around his, bringing him even farther into her, allowing her to ride with him, to whirl with dizzying sensations until her body convulsed, and she felt his explosion in her.She felt wave after wave of pleasure flood her, exquisite layers of aftershocks fill her with contentment.Her body quivered with each one, the core of her still clasping him, reluctant to let go, reluctant to lose the feel of him inside her.He shuddered, his breathing labored against her neck as he sought to regain that control he always fought so hard for.
Shea moved her head slightly and touched her mouth to his with all the wonder she felt.It was an exquisitely tender kiss, and he shuddered again, his mouth trembling before he rolled away from her with a groan that was part protest and part pain.
Her hand went up and brushed a lock of hair from his face, the sweat from his forehead.She wanted to say something but was desperately afraid he would reject it.Reject her.So she just laid her head on his chest, surprised when his arms went around her with something like possession.
No words passed between them.No promises.None of the assurances she wanted so very badly.And she knew nothing had really changed.There was a chasm between them that could never be crossed.A chasm named Jack Randall.
Chapter 19
Rafe checked the small bear’s leg.The cuts were healing; there didn’t seem to be any infection.
He wrapped the injured leg again with the splint, making it tighter than before so neither the mother nor cub could tear it off easily.It was the best he could do.
The time had come for the cub to return to his mother, to the woods where he belonged.The mother was still haunting the cabin area, and it was only a matter of time before she hurt someone.And it wasn’t good for the cub to become dependent on human beings who would soon be gone.
