Hope stirred within her. From a stony mountainside, Gran had created loam so rich it had repaid all the backbreaking effort by producing, year after year, bounty that had fed Gran over each harsh winter.
That soil hadn’t died with her grandmother. It slept beneath the tangle, waiting for Raina to assume Gran’s place as its guardian and caretaker. Symbiosis between unlike creatures who needed each other to survive.
Raina sat back on her heels and surveyed the garden and the fruit trees beyond it, visualizing not the tumult and overgrowth, not the threat posed by vines and grasses waiting to devour, to return all of this to the reign of ancient species and hard, cold rock. Instead, she saw this place as it had once been and could be again, coexisting in a harmony only obtained by constant vigilance. Respect for nature side by side with simple needs, taking only what was necessary to survive while returning to mother earth any excess so that she might rest, well-sated.
To make a life in these mountains would be hard and lonely and unsafe, but Raina had lived through all that already, in a world where there were no good memories. Surely she could live here, maybe even prosper.
Prosper might be too strong a word just now. Raina would settle for surviving the first winter.
Tonight, she would retrieve Gran’s book and study the lessons in it. Tomorrow, she would continue, step by slow, measured step, the process of claiming this place as hers. Of carving out a new life. A new Raina Donovan. Not the Raina Gran had envisioned, perhaps, but certainly not the Raina who’d been inches away from the gutter. From a self-loathing so deep she’d have sought anything to mute it.
From a shiny, sharp blade streaming scarlet with her blood.
Raina brought earth-coated fingers to her nose and inhaled deeply, banishing the coppery scent that still lured her.
Hal would leave soon. She would be completely alone. Still afraid, still uncertain. Perhaps not worthy.
But alive. That was something.
Maybe even enough.
Liam dragged himself up the steps in the growing darkness. In a few minutes, after he sat down and rested, he’d start hauling bathwater as he had each night since he first discovered the tub.
At the moment, though, he could barely lift his arms. The mere thought of buckets filled with water made his muscles want to weep.
When he got back to L.A. he’d tell his trainer, Chuck, he was going about things all wrong. Forget fancy equipment—just move his clients to the back of beyond for a few weeks. They’d wind up fit. He grinned. Or dead.
At the door, he paused, not sure he could summon the strength to turn the knob. Amazing how all these camera-ready muscles still weren’t enough. He’d spent too little time on real work the past few years, doing films back to back.
One good thing about this level of exhaustion, though: he was nearly too tired to think about jumping Raina Donovan’s bones.
Okay, so the spirit was still willing. The flesh was definitely too weak.
Liam was still smiling as he pushed open the door. His eyes popped wide at the sight that greeted him.
The tub sat before the fire in its usual spot.
But it was full. And steaming.
Across the room, Raina’s head rose from her study of a big leather book. “Hi. You want to eat first or soak?”
“Me?” He’d been the gentleman, avoiding temptation by using cold water from the well instead of enjoying the welcome warmth of the tub.
“You’ve worked even harder today than before. It’s the least I could do.”
“You are a goddess. If I thought I wouldn’t fall flat on my face crossing the floor, I’d kiss your feet.”
She laughed, and it struck him once again how young she looked at times like this, so rare for her. He’d spilled his guts about all sorts of family stories, but he still knew very little of her past, except for the clear impression gained without words that life had not been kind to her.
“You’ve got a great smile,” he said.
She ducked her head, fair skin blooming rosy. But he thought she looked pleased as she got to her feet. “How about having your cake and eating it, too? Climb in and I’ll bring your food to you, then wait on the porch. You can eat while you soak.”
“I’m too tired to eat right now, unless it can’t hold.”
She shook her head. “It’s stew. Time only improves it.” She glanced around her for a sweater. “I’ll just go, then.”
“The wind’s picking up, coming from the north.” Telling her to stay was on the tip of his tongue. He’d never been all that modest and his naked backside had been viewed by millions, but Liam found himself strangely hesitant to strip down in front of her.
She was nearly to the door.
“Wait.” He hadn’t felt this tongue-tied since he was fourteen.
She didn’t glance up.
“Listen…it’s cold out there. Just…turn your back until I get in. No need for you to be outside freezing.”
Dead silence.
He started stripping. “Suit yourself. I’ll be quick.”
You don’t understand, Raina wanted to say. But she didn’t, either.
One thing she was certain of, though, was that he deserved to soak and he wouldn’t do it now, not if she went outside as he’d been doing for her every night. Too much the gentleman, but he’d worked like a slave all day.
She waited where she was until she heard the water slosh.
And he groaned, deep and heartfelt. Then sighed.
“Take your time,” she said, scuttling past him and averting her eyes. “I’ll just—” She fluttered her hands. “I’ll face the other way.”
Which she tried to do, settling herself in the opposite chair and attempting to read Gran’s spidery handwriting.
Until he sighed again.
And she just had to peek.
Oh, God. Limned in firelight, eyes closed, profile noble, he was the picture of an exhausted warrior fresh from battle. During the barren, emotionless years of her marriage, she’d devoured historical romances on the sly, losing herself in tales of medieval knights and feisty maidens.
He’d make the perfect hero, muscled and fierce, nobly self-sacrificing, lusty and—
Looking at her.
She gasped and averted her face.
Liam didn’t even try to stifle his smile. “Have mercy for a poor wretch and wash my back?”
She hunched over and shook her head.
“Sure?”
Vigorous nodding.
Liam chuckled. “I’ll be finished soon. Your turn next.”
“No—” She actually squeaked. “Don’t rush. I’m clean.”
Then she jumped up and zipped into the kitchen.
Liam was caught between amusement and pure frustration as he glanced down at his eager body. He wanted her hands on him so badly he could barely see. Wanted his own on her even worse.
And she’d been staring at him as though he were made of pure chocolate and she hadn’t eaten in years.
Yet here they were, pretending to be only allies in crossing items off a list. Just coworkers, purely platonic.
What crap.
If only it were that simple. If her gaze had been mere physical interest, he knew he could have her beneath him in no time flat.
But he’d seen more, and it scared him to death. Not the starstruck awe for a wealthy film star to which he was so accustomed, but honest admiration. True respect.
As if he was worthy of either. If she only knew…
Past relaxation now, Liam stood abruptly—
Just as Raina came through the door clutching a bowl in her hands.
Silence. Pulsating. Breathing, though neither of them could.
Raina’s eyes moved over him, so slowly, so greedily that his sorely tempted body responded in a way neither of them could ignore.
He’d never felt this naked in his life.
Raina blinked, then shot her glance up to his. In it, Liam saw unbearable temptation…and cold, stark fear. She clo
sed her eyes and swallowed hard. When she opened them again, he read only apology and shame.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just can’t.” With extreme care, she set down the bowl on the table, grabbed a quilt off the bed and walked outside.
Liam grasped for the towel like a man gone blind.
Chapter Nine
Raina awoke, surprised that she’d slept at all. She’d stayed outside, huddled in the quilt, for a very long time. That Hal hadn’t come after her had surprised her a little, but she was grateful for his restraint. Perhaps he’d accepted the truth that he couldn’t protect her much longer, that once he left, there would be nothing between her and this harsh mountain.
He was up and gone already this morning, she was sure. The cabin felt different when he was absent. She dawdled, though, before checking to see if his things were still there. She wouldn’t blame him if he’d chosen to depart before the list was finished. Not after her reaction last night.
The memory still had the power to nearly stop her heart, melodramatic as that sounded. She’d considered him gorgeous fully clothed, but naked…he was honestly too beautiful to be true. Men probably didn’t welcome being called beautiful, but in his case, no other word was sufficient.
He was, without question, the most stunning man she’d ever seen.
And he’d wanted her.
Oh, probably not her, Raina Donovan, certainly not the sordid reality. But he would have taken her if she’d let him, that much she knew. Perhaps it was only that she was female and available, but she believed he would have been careful with her, would have demonstrated a side of sex she’d never encountered. He was too much the gentleman, too genuinely nice a person not to make sure she found satisfaction.
But in those charged moments when he’d stood before her naked, what had sent her running was the look in his eyes.
Incredibly enough, she thought he’d been scared, too. Aroused and powerful and gorgeous, but…vulnerable. Afraid…of himself…and of her. Of this unlikely and impossible thing that was growing between them.
I could love him, she’d thought in that instant.
But her weaknesses were poison-tipped arrows. He deserved to be protected from the taint of them.
So she’d let him believe that she was frightened of him when, in truth, she was far more frightened of herself.
Raina sat up in the bed to look for his duffel in the corner where he kept it. When she spotted it, she took her first full breath of the morning.
You should go, Hal.
Please don’t go yet.
Her mind and heart battled while Raina readied herself to face the day. She felt restless and itchy, the kind of gnawing that once she’d have pacified with a pill.
Her gaze darted toward the kitchen, where the moonshine jug still sat. Hunger and heartache opened the door for despair, and before Raina realized it, she’d crossed the room, hand outstretched.
Maybe she should just reveal to him who she really was. Give him a demonstration he’d never forget.
He’d leave then, surely.
But she remembered how it had felt, lying in his lap, half-dazed from hunger and grief. Thought about a man who refused to leave a total stranger, who could probably afford to hire people to suffer the blisters and sore muscles he’d endured the past few days.
She had to save him from himself, from his own chivalry. He’d only leave if he believed she was strong enough to make it.
Raina snatched back her hand from the jug handle and put distance between them as fast as she could. She sat on the bed and rocked, arms clasped tightly around her middle as she sought comfort from within, a well still dry as a bone. She cast about in her mind for refuge—
Her swing. Raina’s fingers dug into her sides as she drew in a jagged breath.
For a few moments in that clearing, clutching the swing to her breast, Raina had touched her childhood hopes.
A child’s refuge would never work for an adult. Would it?
You’re crazy to go to that mountain alone, the hospital social worker had insisted. No support group, no meetings, no sponsor. You’ll be back using in a matter of weeks, if not days.
Maybe the swing wouldn’t help. But perhaps it could.
Raina grabbed for clothes, not caring if anything matched, fevered with the need to reclaim the one place that she’d ever found peace.
An hour later, she’d cleared the vines from the swing and a small area beneath it. Her head was light because she hadn’t bothered with breakfast, had barely noticed that Hal was nowhere in sight, so intent had she been on finding her way back to the clearing. She’d grabbed gloves and a sharp knife and the scythe, that was all.
But as each tangled vine fell away, she could breathe a little more easily. She’d go back in a bit, get some food, then return.
“Hey, babe.”
Raina whirled. And nearly screamed. “Frank.”
“I heard you were back. Wanted to welcome you.”
That wasn’t welcome she heard in his voice. She remembered the day she’d told him she was marrying Ben, how his face had gone dark red, how he’d left bruises on her arms as he argued that she was making a big mistake. That an old man could never keep a hot piece like her happy.
“Nothin’ to say?” He shrugged. “We do better not talkin’, anyway, don’t we, girl? Seems to me I recall you wiggling like a cat in heat beneath me—you remember that, Rainie? We could take up right where we left off.”
Shame washed over her. She’d been a fool with Frank Howard. He’d sworn vengeance, and it appeared he hadn’t forgotten anything.
“I saw your new fella at Noah’s store. Funny how you go for the ones with money, ain’t it? I can hurt him, Rainie—you know I can. What’s it worth to keep him safe?”
Oh, no. Hal. Where was he? Raina tried to calm herself as she thought frantically. “Frank,” she managed to say. “What a nice surprise. How are you?”
“Don’t pretend you care. Always land on your feet, don’t you, darlin’?” Fixed and grim, his smile had the cheer of cardboard. “Interesting thing, though. He don’t seem to know too much about you. Think he might change his mind if he understood what a whore you are?”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” she said.
“Don’t lie to me.” He advanced on her. “Not ever again. I’ve had enough of that, you hear me?”
Raina forced herself to stand her ground. “I never misled you.”
“Oh, yes, you did—every time you let me inside you, while all along you’d set your sights on someone bigger.” His laughter raked over raw nerves. “Bet ol’ Ben wasn’t really bigger, though, was he?” His eyes were small and vicious as he drew closer. “Remember how you liked it, how you couldn’t get enough?”
He’d been the one who couldn’t get enough. Raina held the swing before her like a shield.
“What are you doing with that?” he sneered. He was only four feet away now.
Raina dropped it and stepped aside to deflect his interest. If he thought she cared about it—
Too late. “Damn thing musta been here for years.” He grabbed the seat. “Yours, Rainie girl?”
“Don’t.” She bit her lip to stem more words.
“Or what?”
“It’s just an old swing.” She seized on another topic. “So what have you been up to, Frank?” She tried for flirtation but fell miserably short.
His laughter was ugly. “Like you give a shit.” He clamped a hand around the rope. “Junkie whore.” He spat on the ground.
Raina closed her eyes and bore it, hoping he’d expend his fury in words.
The snick of a stiletto jerked her eyes open.
Frank smiled. Fingered the gleaming blade. Assessed the rope.
“No, Frank.” She despised herself for adding, “Please.” It was only a child’s swing. She shouldn’t care so much.
“What’s it worth to you?” His eyes glittered diamond-hard. He lifted the knife toward the rope.
&nb
sp; Something inside Raina snapped. She’d only wanted to be left alone on this mountain to try to make something of the wreck of her life. She’d destroyed so much. Lost so much.
Enough. She launched herself at Frank, fighting back against all the cops, all the social workers, the lowlifes from the street. Against Ben Chambers and his straitjacket, her mother and her weak will—
And Frank. Cunning, vicious Frank, who wanted her on her knees.
Frank advanced, his face alight with anticipation, and roared out a challenge, the knife blade gleaming in the cool, green glade.
Liam whistled as he walked through the woods with a coil of thick rope over one shoulder. Noah might lack social Celestes, but his store held a surprising array of treasures. This rope, for instance, which Liam intended to use to replace the rotting ones holding up that ancient, decrepit swing that meant so much to Raina.
It wasn’t an item on their list, but it suited him for two reasons: one, she had so little luxury in her life and this was a gift he could give her on the sly; and two, he wasn’t eager to see her again after last night. The list contained only items that required him to be around the cabin, much too close to memories of—
Unfamiliar sounds halted him.
Then he realized what they were. A man’s shout. A woman’s scream.
Raina.
He ran full-tilt toward the commotion. At the edge of the clearing, he spotted Raina, nose bleeding, blouse torn, her eyes filled with both terror and rage, facing a man holding a knife.
Frank.
“Let her go.” Liam charged, grabbing the man’s shoulder and yanking him away from her.
Eyes wild, cheeks raw with jagged red trails, Frank latched onto Raina’s arm, brandishing the knife. “What’s it to you, city boy? You think you got a claim? Don’t you know she likes to spread it around? Hot little piece, this one.” His smile was vicious. “She’ll cheat on you, though. Gotta watch that.” He shrugged. “A good time, ‘long as you recognize that she’s a slut.”
With effort, Liam ignored the barbs, keeping one eye on Frank as he did a quick check on Raina. She’d lost all color, frozen in place. “Pick on someone your own size, coward.”
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