by Radclyffe
Natalie and Dev back toward the kitchen.
“Mom? Dad?” she called as she pushed through the swinging doors.
“Leslie?” her mother answered eagerly, appearing in the doorway of the
adjoining family room. Beyond her, Leslie’s father was stretched out on the
couch with a newspaper on his lap, his casted leg propped on pillows. “Thank
God you’re back.”
Leslie gave her mother a quick hug, then leaned down to kiss her father. “Hi,
Daddy. How are you feeling?”
“A damn sight better now that you’re home. Rough trip?”
“Sort of. The boat’s okay, but we left it at the island. Sorry.”
He shook his head. “Better that than you trying to get back in this stuff.”
Eileen smiled at Natalie and Dev. “The three of you look like you could use hot
showers, dry clothes, and something to eat.”
“I need to get back out there, so I’ll have to pass on the Þ rst two,”
Natalie said, “but I’ll take you up on the food.”
Eileen hooked her arm through Natalie’s. “Come on in the kitchen.
And thank you for bringing my daughter home.”
“Don’t mention it,” Natalie said, disappearing through the doorway with Eileen.
“You doing okay?” Leslie said quietly as she and Dev followed at a slower
pace. Dev’s face was white and her eyes smudged with fatigue.
“Yeah. Just beat.” Dev made a conscious effort not to limp, but with each
passing hour her lower back and hip had gotten tighter to the point that every
step sent a jolt of Þ re down her leg. The last time it had been this bad, she’d
been sampling intestinal parasites from Þ sh in the Finger Lakes in November.
There’d been an early snow, and it had been twenty degrees on the dock where
she’d knelt for three hours gutting the Þ sh and opening their GI tracts. She’d
managed to Þ nish collecting the specimens, but she’d paid for it with two days
in bed.
“You look like you can barely move.” Dev’s hurting was so apparent that Leslie
ached just watching her walk. Knowing she was helpless to ease Dev’s pain
was so frustrating that she almost felt physically ill herself.
• 170 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
“I’ll be okay once I get warmed up and take a couple ibuprofen,”
Dev said, trying to sound upbeat.
Leslie doubted that a few hundred milligrams of Motrin was going to touch
Dev’s pain, but she said nothing. She pulled a tall stool from against the wall
toward the center island so Dev could sit on it. Her mother and Natalie were
discussing the storm while her mother poured coffee into big white ceramic
mugs. “Get some weight off your leg at least.” She grabbed two mugs and
carried them back to the island.
“Here.”
“Thanks. What about you,” Dev asked quietly, sipping the hot coffee gratefully.
“You’ve barely slept in two days. Are you feeling okay?”
Leslie’s Þ rst reaction was to protest that she was Þ ne, but she stopped herself
from making the stock reply. Dev had asked, and she deserved an answer. “I
feel like crap, but mostly because I’m wet and cold and hungry.” She grinned
weakly and decided she should leave out the part about being indescribably
horny, which was even more distressing than all the other things put together. It
was bad enough she’d woken up aroused. Even the biting wind and drenching
rain and Natalie’s possessive attitude toward Dev hadn’t been able to put a
damper on it. And every time she looked at Dev, she remembered how good it
had been with Dev’s body against hers all night. She tried not to look at Dev’s
mouth because whenever she did, the ß uttering sensation inside started up, and
it had nothing to do with her heart problems.
“Things have been pretty stressful.” Dev watched Leslie’s eyes darken from
blue to indigo. She was beautiful, even sleepless and bedraggled.
“Stressful. Jesus, what an understatement.” Leslie wanted to laugh, but she
didn’t want to draw attention to them. She knew they only had a few more
minutes of privacy. “I had one tiny episode yesterday, but it was so short it
doesn’t even count.” She glanced at her mother to make sure she wasn’t
listening. “The doctors who did the tests said that the medication should be
enough. I intend to take it, because I don’t have time for any more of this
nonsense.”
“Good.” Dev squeezed Leslie’s hand, and gently released it.
“Aren’t you supposed to quit coffee too?”
Leslie’s face went cold. “Don’t push it, Devon.”
Dev laughed quietly, and Leslie Þ nally smiled.
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RADCLY fFE
“Is this storm going to ruin the work you were doing on the island?” Leslie
asked, because she wanted to change the subject and also because she cared.
She knew how important Dev’s work was to her.
“I got just about everything I need.”
“I’m glad.”
“Here you go,” Eileen said, setting a plate of buttermilk biscuits in the center of
the island.
Natalie grabbed one and leaned against the counter next to Dev.
“How are you doing?”
“Better,” Dev said.
“You three help yourselves to anything else you need,” Eileen said. “I’m going to
check on Paul and make sure the guests are taken care of.” She rested her hand
on Leslie’s shoulder. “I almost forgot.
Your friend Rachel from New York called here when she didn’t get an answer
on your cell.”
Leslie grew still. Dev stiffened beside her, and Natalie’s face took on an
interested expression. “Okay. Thanks.”
“She sounded worried when I told her about the storm, so you should probably
call her pretty soon.”
“I will, Mom,” Leslie said tightly.
“Do you need her number? She left her cell and her—”
“I have them.”
Eileen hesitated, then dropped her hand from Leslie’s shoulder.
“Natalie, you be careful out there today.”
“I will. Thanks.” Natalie waited until Eileen left the room, then asked
nonchalantly, “Girlfriend?”
Leslie gave Natalie a long, appraising look. The question could be passed off as
casual conversation, but she knew it wasn’t. “Something like that.” She rose,
walked to the sink, and poured the last of her coffee down the drain. Then she
looked at Dev. “Are you going to be okay getting down to your cabin?”
“I’ll walk her down,” Natalie said, “when she’s done with her coffee.”
“Fine. Thanks for the ride home,” Leslie said tersely. She left them there,
grabbed her rain jacket, and strode out into the downpour, oblivious to the
discomfort as she stalked through the woods. Four more days and this entire
surreal interlude would all be behind her.
• 172 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
When she reached her cabin she headed directly to her bathroom, pulling off her
rain jacket and dropping it over the back of a wooden chair as she went. She
closed the door, turned on the hot water in the shower, and began to remove
her clothes. Dev’s clothes, she thought as she bent to unlace Dev’s boo
ts.
Dev’s shirt, Dev’s pants, Dev’s hands—her kisses, her mouth, God, oh God,
her mouth. How good Dev’s mouth had felt skimming down her stomach.
Closing her eyes, Leslie leaned back against the counter, slipping her hand inside
Dev’s jeans. Her skin was cold, but she was hot between her legs. And wet.
And oh so hard and aching. With a soft moan she stroked the ache, but it only
grew more Þ erce. She pressed harder, willing the wanting away, and groaned
at the pleasure. Her legs shook and she gripped the counter with her free arm,
her hand circling faster beneath the soaked denim.
Oh God, it felt so good and she wanted it to stop. She didn’t want this, this
terrible longing.
“Oh please,” she gasped, her head falling back, orgasm shimmering through her.
She couldn’t want this. She couldn’t. Her will snapped as her climax surged
and she cried out softly, bending nearly double with the pleasure. “Yes. Oh
yes.”
When the wracking tremors subsided enough for her to straighten, Leslie turned
unsteadily and braced her arms on the counter, panting.
While the last tendrils of orgasm washed through her, she stared at her reß
ection in the mirror, shocked by the sated expression in her bruised eyes and ß
ushed face. Oh God, who are you?
v
After her shower, Leslie fell naked into bed and slept for nine hours.
When she woke a little before seven in the evening, she felt hollowed out, far
emptier than mere hunger could account for. She ignored the feeling as she
reached for her phone and pressed the familiar number on speed dial without
even looking.
“This is Rachel Hawthorne. I’m not available right now, so please leave—”
Leslie cut the connection and stared at the ceiling. She wondered how Dev was
doing, if her leg was better, if she was going to be able to make it up to the
lodge for dinner. Maybe she should go up, Þ x her a plate, and take it down to
her cabin.
• 173 •
RADCLY fFE
“What am I doing?” Leslie muttered, throwing back the sheets in disgust. She
ran her hands through her hair. “Losing my mind. That’s what I’m doing.”
The phone vibrated and she snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Hello, darling. I’m in the car.”
Leslie felt a quick rush of relief. This was normal. With Rachel, she knew exactly
who she was. “Hi. I heard you called. Sorry I missed you. How are you?”
“Fine. Busy. Your mother said there was a storm.”
Leslie laughed. “You could say that.”
“Listen, darling, I’m on my way to a client dinner, but I’ve got good news.”
“So do I. I’ll be ho—”
“I freed up my schedule and I’m ß ying up for the Fourth. I’m afraid overnight is
all I can manage.”
Leslie’s stomach clenched. “That’s not necessary, Rach, really. I know how
busy you are, and I’ll—”
“Nonsense, darling. We’ll have plenty of time to get reacquainted.”
She laughed throatily. “I’m pulling into the parking garage, so I’m going to sign
off. I’ll see you, darling.”
“Rachel, wait! Rach?” Leslie was left staring at the silent phone in her hand,
wondering why she didn’t want Rachel there. Maybe it was just that this wasn’t
part of their life, and she had no way to explain to Rachel who she had been all
those years ago. Or, she feared, it might be because she wasn’t the woman
Rachel was expecting to Þ nd when she arrived.
• 174 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER TWENTY
Leslie contemplated her choices in footwear as she pulled on jeans, a warm
navy crew-neck sweater, and the thickest socks she’d packed. But all she had
in the way of shoes were sneakers or dress shoes. Neither would hold up on the
muddy path to the lodge. With a sigh, she pulled on Dev’s boots. She could
borrow a pair from her mother and return these to Dev later. She hoped that
Dev had another pair of boots at her cabin and wouldn’t need these tonight.
Flashlight in hand and a bundle of clothes under her other arm, Leslie set out
toward the lodge. The rain had tapered off to a heavy downfall. Annoying, but
not threatening. Nevertheless, Leslie felt as if she’d been slogging through water
for days. Lights shone in one or two of the cabins she passed, but the cloud
cover was too dense to allow any moonlight to Þ lter through the trees. When a
beam of light ß ashed from out of the woods and into Leslie’s face, it was as
bright as a car headlight, stinging her eyes.
Startled and annoyed, she complained, “Hey!”
“Oh, sorry,” a woman called, and the light immediately cut down to the ground.
Leslie blinked away the water in her irritated eyes and cautiously approached.
Then her uncertainty was replaced by something altogether different, a sinking
sensation she didn’t want to analyze. She raised her own ß ashlight until the edge
of the beam illuminated Natalie’s face.
“Hi.”
“Nice night,” Natalie said lightly.
“Isn’t it.” Leslie took in Natalie’s backpack and the plastic bag of what looked
like groceries under her arm. She was clearly on her way
• 175 •
RADCLY fFE
to Dev’s, probably bringing her dinner. Like Leslie had wanted to do.
Like she had no right to do. And a backpack—overnight clothes? Her mood
darkened. She sidestepped to make room for Natalie on the path.
“Be careful. The trail’s a mess.”
“You too. By the way, I moored the department boat down at your dock. I can
take you out to yours in the morning, if that works for you.”
Leslie’s jaw tightened. Natalie was staying the night. “That would be Þ ne.
Thank you.”
“Right after breakfast?”
“Perfect,” Leslie said ß atly. “Good night.”
“Night,” Natalie called.
Leslie stood in the drizzle, watching Natalie disappear into the dark. To bring
Dev supper. To keep her company on a cold, rainy night.
To take care of her pain. Leslie suddenly had an image of Natalie curled into the
bend of Dev’s body, the way she had been the night before, and the ache was
so huge it hurt to draw breath. She turned away and walked on in the rain,
wishing she had never come home. Wishing she had never seen Dev again.
Wishing she didn’t want her and wondering when it would stop.
She trudged up to the lodge, grateful for a diversion, anything to keep her mind
occupied until she could get back to Manhattan. A few people lingered in the
great room, but the large dining room adjoining it was dark. Subdued light
streaked beneath the kitchen door and Leslie made her way toward it. Her
mother sat at the central counter on the same stool that Dev had occupied
earlier, working a crossword puzzle.
“Hi, honey,” Eileen said, swinging around as if to stand.
Leslie held up a hand. “Don’t get up.” She craned her neck toward the family
room. “Is Daddy here?”
“No. He didn’t sleep well last night and he went to bed early.” She pointed to
the bundle under Leslie’s arm. “What have you got there?”
&
nbsp; “Laundry. Do you mind if I do some?”
“Of course not. You haven’t had dinner, have you?”
“No. I just woke up a little while ago.”
Eileen rose. “I’ll put the laundry in while you Þ x yourself something to eat.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. Give me the laundry.”
• 176 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
Leslie wasn’t really hungry, but she knew she should eat something.
Maybe then the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach would go away.
Leslie sighed. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Are these yours?” Eileen called from the small laundry room next to the
kitchen.
“No,” Leslie said as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pizza box and
a bottle of Beck’s. She peeked under the lid and saw with satisfaction that there
were two slices remaining. “They’re Dev’s. Mine will have to go to the dry
cleaners, and even then, I’m not sure they’re salvageable.”
“Put that in the microwave,” Eileen said automatically as she rejoined Leslie and
sat down at the counter again.
“It’s Þ ne.” Leslie leaned an elbow on the counter, poured a glass of beer, and
munched on the cold pizza.
Eileen shook her head, smiling faintly. “How’s Dev doing? She looked pretty
worn out this morning.”
Leslie stiffened and took another swallow of beer. “I don’t know.
I haven’t talked to her since we came back.”
“I’ll call her cell and see if she wants me to Þ x something. Maybe you can take
it down to her.”
“No,” Leslie said abruptly. When her mother started in surprise, Leslie lowered
her voice. “I’m sure she would have called if she needed anything. I saw Natalie
on the way down toward her cabin. She looked like she had food with her.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
Peachy. Leslie pushed the last half-eaten slice away and drained her glass. Then
she went to the refrigerator and got another beer.
“Did you call your friend?” Eileen asked, absently Þ lling in a word in the
crossword puzzle.
“Yes.” Leslie paused a beat. “She’s coming up for the Fourth.
She’ll be staying overnight.”
Eileen looked up. “We don’t have any vacancies, but we can bring a day bed
down to your cabin.”
Leslie blushed, thinking of the not-quite-double bed in the small bedroom. “We
