Dark Summer

CHAPTER 17

"DEVON," BRIDGET CALLED FROM the other room. "I'm coming in. Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you."

Devon tensed, then instinctively reached down and picked up the lamp with which she had hit Lester.

Bridget appeared in the doorway. Her brows rose as she saw the lamp. "Or maybe I should worry about you hurting me." She put her gun into her jacket pocket. "Does that make you feel better?"

"No. You just killed a man, didn't you?"

"Yes." She glanced at Enright. "But so did you. It's true you might have had a better reason, but then maybe not. It's all how you look at things." She lifted her gaze to Devon's face, then to her open shirt. "Did Enright hurt you?"

"Of course, he hurt me. What did you expect?"

"I didn't expect anything. Enright was the one factor I didn't know about." She smiled faintly. "And I'd say that you managed to hurt Enright more than he did you." She turned. "Put down that lamp and come into the kitchen where I can put a ban dage on the cut on your head."

Devon didn't move.

"Look, I know you don't trust me. How could you? You'd be an idiot. But I don't know how I can-Yes, I do." She crossed the room and knelt by Enright's body. She quickly searched him and came up with a shoulder holster. She pulled out the Glock and slid it across the floor to Devon. "Hold on to that. It should make you feel more secure. I'm surprised he didn't try to draw it."

"He probably didn't think of it." Devon touched her breast, which was still throbbing. "He liked to use his hands on me."

"Bastard." Bridget turned away. "Pick up the gun. After all, I did promise you a weapon when you got here."

"A promise you never meant to keep."

"I meant to keep it eventually. I'm doing it now." She disappeared into the other room. "Now come and let me wash that cut before we hit the road. It's not safe here."

Devon bent down and picked up the Glock. "Why should I go with you? Maybe you're going to deliver me to Danner." Yet she still found herself following Bridget into the kitchen. Bridget was right, the gun did make her feel safer. "You set me up. I don't know how much you're lying and how much is truth."

Bridget nodded. "I know. But it's not what you think. It's not good, but I never meant you harm. You were just a way to accomplish an end."

"Stealing the dogs."

"No, getting rid of one of Marrok's enemies. You can accuse me of being ruthless and risking your neck, but I'd never betray Marrok or those dogs." She met Devon's gaze. "And that's the truth." She took down a first-aid kit from the kitchen cabinet over the sink. "You probably don't want me touching you. Will you wash that cut and stick on a ban dage so that we can get out of here?"

Devon stared at her for a moment. She might be a fool, but she found herself believing Bridget. She had known from the beginning how fanatical Bridget was about protecting Marrok. She could see her going to any extent to do that. She turned on the water and dabbed at the cut on her hairline. "You killed Lincoln."

"Yes." Bridget handed her a Band-Aid. "It was time to get rid of Lincoln before he had a chance to get rid of me. And it wasn't a falling-out among thieves if that's what you're thinking."

It wasn't what Devon was thinking. She didn't know what to think. "Why? You didn't do it to save me. You're the one who set this up."

"No, I thought you were a risk worth taking. There was a good chance I could control the situation." She put the first-aid kit back on the shelf. "I would have killed Lincoln to keep you safe, but I hoped I could time it so that I could get what I needed before that became an issue."

"What you needed?"

"I knew Lincoln was negotiating with Danner. It was only a matter of time before he made a move on his own. I decided I had to take control before Lincoln brought Danner down on Marrok. But I had to have proof."

"How did you know Lincoln was dealing with Danner?"

"I have a contact in London who managed to trace the calls between Lincoln and Danner. Not easy. The signal bounced back and forth across the Atlantic four times before Jordan was able to focus in on it."

"Jordan?"

"Jordan Radkin. My contact in the U.K." She stepped back. "Will you put that gun away now? Do you think I'm telling the truth?"

"It's difficult to judge. You change like a weathervane."

"Well, judging what you did to Enright, the gun's really not necessary." She added, "Do what you like. It's up to you."

Devon hesitated, then slowly lowered the Glock.

"Progress." Bridget headed for the front door. "Your duffel is over here where you dropped it when you came in. Tuck the gun in it so you can have it handy if you decide you want to shoot me."

Devon followed her to the door. "You still didn't tell me why you needed proof Lincoln was dealing with Danner."

"Because Lincoln is MI6. If I didn't have proof he was going to betray them and take the dogs for himself, then MI6 would come down on Marrok like a ton of bricks. Believe me, Marrok doesn't need that hassle. So I had to get a tape of a conversation between Lincoln and Danner."

"And you did it?"

"Yes, very satisfactorily incriminating. He was going to double-cross me and MI6 and go into partnership with Danner. It was very clear he was going into business for himself. I'll send the disk to MI6 right away. They don't like traitors. They'll look upon Lincoln's death as a con ve nient end to a problem." She strode ahead of Devon. "Lincoln down, Danner to go. Now let's hit the road. I don't think Danner will be on his way here since he sent Enright to do his dirty work, but I don't want to take chances." As they reached the porch, Bridget added, "We'll take Lincoln's car. I left mine a couple miles on the other side of the vineyard." She headed for the sedan parked a few yards away. "I took Lincoln's keys before I came in to get you."

"Very efficient. You've obviously been taught well." Devon stopped and turned around to look back. She'd killed a man only a short time before in that house. Or, if she'd not done it herself, she'd meant it to happen, and that was the same thing.

"Regrets?" Bridget's gaze was on her face.

How did she feel? Lester had been a torment and a threat. If he'd not died, then he might have gone on destroying everyone around him. Yet to kill a living person was a terrible thing. "Of course there are regrets. I was forced to take a life." She headed for the car. "But I'd do it again." She got into the car. "Now where do you think you're going to take me?"

"That's up to you." Bridget got in the driver's seat and started the car. "I used you, and I got you hurt. Now you make your own decisions. Not that you wouldn't anyway." She grimaced. "I should have told Marrok that when he wanted you tucked away safe somewhere."

"Screw Marrok," Devon said. "I can't believe he told you to do that to me."

"Yes, you can. You've tapped his protective streak." She looked away. "And a few other reservoirs of feeling that he probably didn't know he had."

"He had no right. He's been moving me around to suit himself since the moment I met him."

"Tell that to him." Bridget took out her phone. "And I have to talk to him right away. Lincoln had a chance to make a call to Marrok, and he's probably ready to explode. Lincoln probably didn't tell him about Danner, but I'd bet I figured prominently in that conversation." She dialed the number. "Marrok, don't talk. Devon is fine. I'm going to tell you what happened and why. Then you can vent all you please."

MARROK COULDN'T BELIEVE IT. Every word Bridget was saying was stoking the fury that had been burning in him since Lincoln's call.

Fury and a fear that was eating at him until he couldn't think straight.

Vent? He wanted to roar, tear into Bridget and everyone else who stood in his way.

"I may just kill you, Bridget," he said through his teeth.

"You'll do what you have to do," Bridget said. "You handed Devon to me on a golden platter, and I saw a way to use her to rid us of Lincoln."

"Without consulting me."

"You wouldn't have let me do it. Now it's a fait accompli. Lincoln's dead. We evidently got a bonus in getting rid of Lester Enright. And Devon didn't get hurt." She paused. "Well, maybe a little hurt. She's got a cut on her head when Lincoln hit her."

"How bad?"

"Superficial."

"I want to talk to her."

A moment passed before Bridget came back on the phone. "She doesn't want to talk to you. She may be as upset with you as she is with me. Devon, will you please say a few words to him so that he won't think I'm lying about you?"

Devon came on the line. "I'm fine," she said coolly. "As far as I know, everything Bridget said is true."

"What about your head? Is it-"

"Devon handed the phone back to me," Bridget said.

Shit.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get her."

"If she wants to see you, she'll come to you," Bridget said. "She'll make her own decisions. Between us we've done enough manipulating." She hung up.

Marrok muttered a curse as he hung up. Profound relief had been followed by anger and frustration.

"Is Devon okay?" Walt asked.

"I think so. She wouldn't talk to me." He muttered a curse. "Who could blame her? Not only did I let Bridget set Devon up, but I wasn't there when she was cornered by Lester Enright."

"Ugly."

Marrok nodded jerkily. "Bridget killed Lincoln. She was using Devon as bait to trip him up."

"You believe her?"

"Yes," Marrok said grudgingly. "I can see Bridget doing it."

"What do we do now?"

That was the question. He wanted to call Bridget back and tell her to bring Devon to him. He wanted to go after Devon and stay with her and keep her safe. He couldn't do either. He'd burned his bridges, and now he had to pay for it.

"Wait. I want to make sure Devon is safe before we make a move on Danner."

BRIDGET PULLED OVER TO THE SIDE of the road after she hung up. "I told Marrok you were going to have to make your own decisions, but it has to be soon."

"Don't try to pressure me, Bridget," Devon said.

"Why not? I'm under pressure. Marrok is under pressure. Everything is going to move fast now. I don't care what you decide to do, but I don't want to have to drop you off without being sure you'll be safe. Do you want to be done with us? Shall I take you to an airport so that you can go back to Denver?" She paused. "Or do I call Walt and tell him to take you to Marrok in Arizona."

Devon stared at her. "Arizona?"

"Paco's canyon. Marrok decided to go to his old stomping grounds to lure Danner."

Devon's lips tightened. "He didn't tell me."

"And that makes you angrier."

"Hell yes."

"Then make a decision."

Devon gazed out the window at the rolling hills. "You want me to go back to Denver."

"I think it's safer for you. I'm done with trying to convince you. Make up your own mind."

Easy to say, Devon thought. She was brimming with resentment at Marrok for treating her like a child who had no will of her own. Yet resentment toward him was only the tip of the iceberg. Devon was silent, letting the memory of what had happened in that hacienda today flow back to her. "I'm mad as hell. Danner sent Lester to torture me just because it amused him. He liked the idea. Lincoln said he and Danner were alike, and I believe it. He's a terrible, terrible man." She shook her head in disbelief. "He doesn't even know me, and he did that. I can imagine what he'd do to Marrok and the dogs. I'm not going to let that son of a bitch get near them." Her hands clenched into fists. "I had all kinds of bullshit noble reasons to stay here before. I was going to help save the dogs, help the human race. But I don't feel noble now. I just want to take Danner down and keep him from hurting anyone else. No matter what Marrok did, it's not going to change how I feel about that."

"You're going to go to Marrok."

"He's got the dogs. I'm going to be there when Danner goes after them."

"Then there's something you should know." Bridget looked straight in front of her. "Do you remember I told you that I'd had no vision of your death?"

Devon stiffened. "Yes."

"Well, it happened. A clear picture. You'll be shot in the chest. Blood. I saw you falling to the ground." She paused. "It was night, but I could tell it was desert country, and there were huge red boulders behind you."

Devon felt her stomach twist. "Paco's canyon…"

"But if you don't go there, it might not happen."

"And it might happen somewhere else."

Bridget whispered, "You don't believe me."

"I believe you believe that what you thought was a vision will take place."

"But you're still going?"

"I can't hide. There's too much at stake. Lord knows, I don't want to go." She shivered. "You've scared me."

"You're scared? I saw it. And I don't know how to stop it. But there has to be a way. I can't go on if there isn't."

Devon had never heard such a depth of despair as in those last words. "It must be terrible for you. You say you've tried to stop it before?"

"Of course I have," she said fiercely. "I've never been able to do it. If I warn someone, they laugh or ignore me. I'm like that Cassandra in mythology, the one whose curse was to have no one believe her prophecies. And if I try to step in myself, it doesn't work. I never know enough. Or there's some element that pops up that keeps me from interceding. Dammit, what good is knowing if I can't prevent it?"

"It's been like that all your life?"

"Since I was seven."

"And your parents knew you had this talent?"

She nodded. "Psychic abilities sometimes run in families, and it certainly did in mine. So they weren't surprised. But I was just a kid, and they didn't pay any real attention when I told them not to go to Dublin that day. I didn't know why I didn't want them to go. I was just afraid." She looked out the window. "A bridge collapsed, and their car went into the river."

"My God."

Bridget was silent a moment. "So you can see why I have no trouble believing in healing powers or the dogs of summer. I want to believe in them. It's the other side of the coin. It's not death, it's life. That's why I came to Marrok when he asked me. I can do something. I'm not helpless."

Devon felt a surge of pity mixed with horror. It was no wonder Bridget was sometimes difficult and always complicated. Devon couldn't imagine what she would have been like if she'd been forced to bear that burden. "And you're wonderful with animals. That must be some solace to you." She shook her head. "Sorry. That sounds very Pollyanna."

"Yes, it does." Bridget's gaze shifted back to her, and she smiled faintly. "But you're right. That's yet another side to the coin." She started the car. "I'll take you to the local airport and call Walt."

"Are you going with me?"

"No, Marrok won't want to see me. It's going to take a while for him to forgive me. I'll have to work at Danner from another angle."

"What angle?"

"Enright is dead, and Danner doesn't have a partner now that I got rid of Lincoln. What a pity. Danner's all alone. Maybe I should apply for the job."

"Good God, if you slip up, he'll kill you."

She shrugged. "I used you as bait. Maybe it's time I stepped up to the plate. You should be glad that I'm risking my neck instead of yours."

"You're darned right I'm glad. Maybe I wouldn't have objected to being used as bait if I'd been consulted."

Bridget lips twisted. "Don't say that. I'm not above letting you volunteer if it suits my con ve nience."

"You don't 'let' me do anything. As you said, my choice."

"I'm sure you'll tell that to Marrok."

"Oh, yes." Devon was beginning to look forward to that confrontation with Marrok. "I have quite a few things I intend to tell Marrok."

BRIDGET STOOD WATCHING AS WALT lifted off and turned east. It was almost sundown and would be fully dark by the time Devon reached Paco's canyon. She turned away and strode toward Lincoln's car. She couldn't stand here and think about Devon or Marrok. She had to get a plan together to pull Danner into the trap Marrok was setting.

Her cell phone rang as she got into the car. Jordan. Lord, she didn't want to talk to him now. She would be tempted to lean and, if she did, he'd want to know details so that he could step in. But she couldn't ignore Jordan. One way or another he would get through to her.

"Everything is coming to a head. I killed Lincoln," she said when she picked up the phone. "I'm working on a way to go after Danner."

"That sounds tentative," Jordan said dryly. "I don't like tentative, Bridget."

"Too bad. I'm not Superwoman."

"Almost." His tone had a hint of amusement. "I'd never have sent you there if I hadn't made sure I'd made you into something very special."

"You sound like Dr. Frankenstein. You taught me, you didn't make me into anything."

"I stand corrected. Can you blame me for wanting to take some credit for you? It's not often that someone as interesting as you comes along." He paused. "And I'm detecting a note of edginess. Did killing Lincoln disturb you?"

"No. Well, maybe a little. I don't like killing. Even bastards like him." He was getting too probing. She had to get away. "I don't have time to talk. Why did you call me?"

"Something disturbed you. It jolted me out of a sound sleep. If it wasn't Lincoln, it was something else."

She should have known Jordan would feel a desperate sense of foreboding. He always knew what was going on with her.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said quietly.

There was no use trying to stall him.

"I don't know if I can keep Devon alive," she whispered. "I saw it happen, Jordan. I saw her shot. I saw her die. I don't know if I can stop it."

"If you can't, you can't. As you said, you're not a superwoman."

"I can't go on like this. I have to find a way to turn it around. If I see it, I've got to find a way to stop it."

"To stop it, you'd have to change the circumstances. Let's look at what you saw. Where did it take place?"

"Paco's canyon. And I've already tried to get her not to go there. She wouldn't listen."

"Then find another piece of the puzzle. One small change that might alter everything. Was anyone with her?"

She thought about it. "No one was standing beside her. If there was anyone else there, I didn't see them."

"Did she have a weapon?"

"No."

"Then change those circumstances."

"And how the hell am I to do that? I've gone through this before. I change one thing, and something happens to change it back."

"Then do you believe it's fate, and you have no say in it?"

"If it were fate, then there would be no reason for me to see it happening. This may be a screwed-up universe, but there has to be some kind of reason and balance. If I could stop it just once."

Jordan was silent. "You're sounding desperate, Bridget. Do you need me to come?"

She had let him see the tension, dammit. "No, I can handle it. You're busy setting up the island."

"I can leave it. I can leave everything. You're the only one that's important to me."

"Liar." She had to get off the phone. "I'll call you if I change my mind."

He was silent again. "I'll let you slide away from me now. Not for long, Bridget."

"Good-bye, Jordan." She hung up the phone and drew a deep, shaky breath. Talking to Jordan always sparked a mixture of emotions. He was brilliant and had the experience to cut through all the chaff and shine a light on the darkest corners of her mind. But that ability also made her feel infinitely vulnerable.

Change the circumstances. One little change could alter everything.

She'd think about it. But right now she had to set about getting Danner to Paco's canyon.

THE LIGHTS OF THE HELICOPTER speared down through the darkness to reveal Marrok, waiting on the plateau below.

Devon tried to smother the instinctive response that had nothing to do with anger. Dammit, she'd only had to see him to have her body tingle, ready. And not only her body…

He was striding toward the copter, jerking open the door. He stood there, looking at her. "I'd offer to help you out, but I don't know if you'd take my hand."

"I don't need help." She got out of the helicopter by herself. "Where's Ned?"

"I left him with the other dogs at a camp in the canyon. I want him to become accustomed to staying there while he's here. He's content with them, and they have guards to protect them."

"From Danner. Bridget says that's why you're here."

His lips tightened. "I'd rather not talk about Bridget."

"You're angry with her. She said you would be."

"Damn straight, she betrayed me. She betrayed you."

"No more than you did. She lied. You lied. She made a prisoner of me. That's what you were planning. Tucking me away somewhere out of your way. At least she released me and sent me on my way." She glanced at Walt. "I wasn't at all sure that Walt didn't have orders this time to take over the job you set Bridget to do."

"Not me," Walt said. "That would be too tough. Marrok can do his own dirty work from now on." He got out of the helicopter. "I'm going to go find Sid Cadow and see if I can drum up a game of poker. Call me if you need me."

Devon started walking toward the canyon. "It sounds as if you've brought everyone from the ranch."

He fell into step with her. "Almost everyone. This canyon is like a labyrinth. There are nooks, ledges, and hiding places all over it. I put the dogs and their guardians in the safest one."

"And I suppose the other nooks and crannies are good for ambushes?"

"Yes."

"How do you intend to get Danner here?"

"I was going to have Walt pick up Nick Gilroy at Sarah's and bring him here. There's no question he'd be followed." He shrugged. "But Nick showed up at the ranch earlier today. He wasn't going to be left out of the action. I had him brought here."

"So now what?"

"I'll find another way. I can concentrate now. I wasn't thinking of much beyond getting you back in one piece."

"Bridget may be able to help. She was going to approach Danner and-"

"No Bridget."

"If she intends to help, then we should let her. She may be risking her life. She deserves our help."

"I can't trust her."

"If I can trust her after all she put me through, then you shouldn't have a problem."

"It's because of what she put you through that I'll never forgive her. Listen, I don't trust many people, but I trusted her. I'll never do it again. I won't risk you again."

"You don't have anything to say about what happens to me," she said coolly. "And for some reason Bridget is as concerned about you as she is the dogs. You'd be a fool to ignore an asset like that."

He didn't answer.

Stubborn, she thought in exasperation. She hadn't expected anything else. Neither had Bridget. But the more she thought about how alone Bridget was right now, the more she wanted to shake him. But she could tell by his closed expression that he wasn't going to be moved by argument. Maybe later.

She changed the subject. "Where do I sleep?"

"I set up a sleeping bag for you in the cave. Unless you'd rather sleep out in the open."

"I don't care. The cave's fine."

He smiled faintly. "I remember you had some objections to occupying the cave the last time it was discussed."

She felt heat flush her body. "Was that supposed to be provocative?"

"I hope it was. But it wasn't intentional. I know better than to make a move on you right now. I'm just glad you decided to come home."

"This is your home, not mine."

He shook his head. "It's your home, too. I give it to you." They had reached the cave, and he gestured for her to go inside. "I started a fire for you. It gets chilly after midnight. There's a change of clothes and a toothbrush in that duffel. And there's plenty of bottled water in the icebox."

She remembered that first day, when he'd reached into the box and brought out a bottle of water for her. He'd taken out a vial of Paco's potion and asked her to rub it into his wound.

Too many memories were flooding back. Stop before she remembered how she'd done it after they'd made love on the path. Too late. It was there before her, every move, every touch.

"Good night." She hurried past him into the cave.

He followed her. "I need to see that cut. How bad is it?"

"It's fine," she said quickly. "I don't need any of Paco's potion."

"I have to see it." He gently pushed her hair back from the bandage. He carefully removed it and traced the cut with his forefinger. He said thickly, "Damn Bridget."

She could feel her pulse leap under his touch. She stepped back. "Superficial. Just as she said. I don't even need a ban dage now that the bleeding has stopped. It's just a scratch. Leave it alone."

"This is all?" He paused. "Enright didn't hurt you?"

"I don't want to talk about Lester."

His gaze searched her expression, and he opened his lips to speak. Then he turned on his heel. "If that's what you want." He headed for the entrance to the cave. "I'll sleep out here. Call me if you need me."

"I won't need you."

"I'll still be here to guard you."

"I don't need that either."

"I need it." She could see him dropping down on the rock outside, his back to her. "I can't tell you how much I need to guard and protect you. No one is going to hurt or take you away again. That's sheer self-preservation. It hurt me too much when I thought I might have lost you."

Don't answer. Don't be touched. Keep the anger. Keep the distance.

She took off her shoes and climbed into the sleeping bag in front of the fire. She could feel the warmth from the flames stroking her cheeks. How many years had Marrok slept here before a fire with Paco on the other side? Had they talked, joked? She wished she'd known the old man. Because then she might be able to fathom the enigma that was Marrok.

Close your eyes. Sleep. You're not here to solve puzzles about Marrok. You're here to get Danner. You're here to help save the dogs of summer.

BUT SHE COULDN'T GO TO SLEEP. It was hours later, and she was still lying there. Every nerve, every muscle was taut, almost painfully aware of Marrok lying only yards away. She turned over for the hundredth time.

"Are you cold?" Marrok was standing in the opening of the cave. "Do you want me to put more wood on the fire?"

"No."

"I didn't think so." He sank down, sitting tailor fashion near the door. "I was just using it for an excuse. I don't think either one of us is going to sleep. There's too much left unsaid."

"I've said all I want to say."

"Not the words I want to hear. I'm trying to be understanding and sensitive, but it's not working for me."

"It never did."

"Enright. I saw your expression. He hurt you, didn't he?"

She stiffened. "We struggled. Of course, he hurt me."

"How?" he asked hoarsely.

"It doesn't matter. It's not going to happen again."

"How?"

"He grabbed me. He was strong. I bruise easily."

"I don't see any bruises."

"Leave it alone, Marrok."

"I can't. I have to see them. Show me."

"Will you go then?"

He nodded. "Show me."

She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped her bra straps down. "It's over. It doesn't matter."

"My God." He was looking at her swollen breast, which was livid with red-and-purple bruises. "He did that to you?"

"Bruises heal." She started to pull her bra straps up.

"No." He was suddenly beside her. "Not yet." His head was pressed against her breast. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." His voice was muffled. "I'm sorry I let him do that to you."

"You didn't let Lester do anything. He did it all himself." She forced herself to keep her arms at her sides and not slide them around him. "And not for long. Only until I was ready to fight him."

"You should have told me about him. You should have let me take care of him for you."

"I told you once before. I take care of my own problems."

"I can't let you do that. Not anymore."

"I think you'd better leave now, Marrok." She kept her voice steady with an effort. "You've got what you came for."

"No, I haven't." He lifted his head. His dark eyes were glittering in his taut face, and his lips were tight with pain. "I want to look at you for a minute. I want to remember what he did to you."

"Why on earth?"

"It's important." He bent his head and his lips gently brushed her breast. His cheek was warm, hard, and faintly rough against her flesh as he rubbed it back and forth. "Because every now and then it will come back to me and remind me that I have to make sure that nothing like that can ever happen to you again."

She felt a melting deep inside her. "Leave, Marrok. You said you'd go."

He didn't move for a moment, his cheek still pressed against her breast. "Okay." He sat back on his heels, pulled her bra straps up, and buttoned her shirt. "I won't touch you again." He stood up and went back to his former place near the door. "I just had to know. It was driving me crazy. Just let me stay for a little while longer." He leaned back against the rock wall and stared into the fire. "I've been thinking. I'm angry at Bridget, but I'm the one to blame for all of this."

"Yes, you are."

He smiled crookedly. "I can always count on you for honesty, can't I? But you see, I didn't realize what a bastard I was being. Did I want you to be safe? With all my heart. But there was another reason I asked Bridget to get you away from me." He paused. "I told you that I couldn't be as honest with you as you were with me. I had to push you away. You frightened me. I'd never felt like that before. It was like part of me was…" He stopped searching for words. "Flowing out, and I knew I might never get it back." He shrugged. "I'd been alone all my life. That's the way I wanted it. I don't know how to handle feeling like this."

"No one asked you to handle it," she said unevenly. "I told you I didn't intend to back you into a corner."

"But I have to learn." His gaze shifted from the fire to her face. "I have to convince you to stay with me. Because now I know I'm more frightened of having to go on without you." He rose to his feet. "That's all. I just had to say it. Go to sleep. I won't bother you anymore tonight."

He was gone. Devon saw him once more settling outside the cave.

Go to sleep? How was she going to do that when she was aching for him, with him? She was unbearably touched. For God's sake, don't lose your grip because of a few words.

But those words had been spoken with raw simplicity and truth.

And there was the slightest trace of moisture on her breast where his cheek had rested.

Why did that sign of vulnerability shake her to the core? He would never admit to it. She shouldn't let go of anger. He had behaved with his usual arrogance and ignored her in de pen dence and self-will.

You'll be shot in the chest. Blood. You'll fall to the ground.

Bridget's words came out of nowhere, bringing the same chill as the first time she had heard them.

Death. Life.

My God, cling to anger when there might not be time for anything else? She didn't know if she believed Bridget's prediction, but life was too short to take chances.

A moment later she'd struggled out of the sleeping bag and was out of the cave.

"Marrok, dammit." She dropped to her knees beside him. "You were wrong to do what you did, to ask Bridget to move me around like a puppet. I can't believe how wrong you were."

He sat up, and said soberly, "I can. One way or another I've been wrong all my life."

"You can't just shift me around on a whim."

"It wasn't a whim. It was the farthest thing from a whim that you can imagine."

"Then it's time you shaped up. I'm not going to have to worry about you doing something like that again."

He went still. "Does that mean that I'm going to get the chance to do it?"

"What a way to put it," she said shakily. "You step out of line again, and I'll strangle you."

He reached out, his hands hovering over her shoulders. "Is touching you out of line?"

"No." She went into his arms. He felt strong, good, solid, closing out the night. Closing out Bridget's words. "You do that very well. It's when you start to think that I have problems. You should never have gotten out of bed and left me alone to wonder and fret. That's where all the trouble started."

"It won't happen again." He was stroking the back of her hair. "I didn't expect you to forgive me this easily. I was prepared for a fight. Why?"

Shot in the chest. Blood…

"You got lucky. It occurred to me that few things are worth letting anger twist and poison your life. I know what being a victim is, and I'll never be one again. I can handle anything you can hand out. I can handle you, Marrok." She nestled closer. "And you told me it's going to be a cold night. I don't like sleeping bags."

"Neither do I. But it's going to be colder out here."

"Then let's go inside." She saw his expression. "We're past that, Marrok. I'm not afraid of competition from women you screwed years ago. I've got an edge." She got to her feet and held out her hand to him. "You're nuts about me. And heaven help me, I feel the same. We've got a long way to go, but that's a start."

"One hell of a start." He jumped to his feet, and his arm encircled her waist, whisking her into the cave. All signs of hesitancy and awkwardness were gone. He was Marrok again, bold, dynamic, with that hint of reckless energy. And he was definitely impatient. "And we'll worry about everything else later. I don't care how long a way we have to go. Let's just enjoy the journey."

The shadow of the flames was leaping on the walls of the cave, playing over the hollow of his high cheekbones and the sensual curve of his mouth. Beautiful, she thought hazily. Everything about him was powerful and sensual and full of fire.

"But that journey's got to start soon," he murmured. His fingers unbuttoning her shirt were deft but shaking, and his breathing was beginning to quicken. "I'm about to go up in-" He froze, his fingers on the buttons halting. "I'm being selfish again. You've gone through too much today, and I'm ready to pull you into bed. Why don't you sock me?"

She looked at him, surprised. "Good Lord, I think you're being sensitive."

He scowled. "Not willingly."

"And at the wrong time."

"Does that mean I don't have to be sensitive?"

She shook her head as she recalled the faint trace of liquid on her breast after he'd left her. Not the time to mention it. She'd probably never mention it.

"It means that making love is wonderful and healing, and that's all the sensitivity I want from you tonight." She kissed him long and hard. "Understand?"

"Whatever you say." He was stripping her with the speed of light. "Whatever you want."

Whatever she wanted.

This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. She had a sudden memory of how earlier tonight she'd been thinking of Marrok and Paco together in the cave. She'd wished she'd known him, that she could have seen them together.

Are you here, Paco?

He's going to be okay. You took good care of him all those years ago. I promise I'll take care of him from now on.

"Hey." Marrok was looking down at her, smiling. "Why do I feel you're not paying attention to me?"

I'll take care of him, Paco.

Her arms slid around him and pulled him down to her. "I'm paying attention," she whispered. "I couldn't be paying more attention to you, Marrok."