The Outcast tp-3

by Beverly Barton

  Jerking his head up, Reece stared at her, his amber eyes gleaming with uncertainty. "I thought you said that you couldn't see my future, that our futures were entwined and you would never look into your own future."

  "If it's the only way to help you, then I'm willing to try." Elizabeth stood.

  Reece glared at her. "No. Don't do it, Lizzie. Don't break one of your sacred rules for me. I've taken enough from you as it is."

  Elizabeth walked across the room, knelt in front of Reece and laid her head on his knee. "You're afraid of the future. Even if you're cleared of B.K.'s murder and claim your inheritance, you won't be free. You'll stay in Newell, you'll take over Stanton Industries, you'll avenge yourself against Kenny and Alice and even Chris. But nothing you do will ever change the past. B. K. Stanton is dead. You can't hurt him. Blanche is dead. You can't help her."

  Reece stroked Elizabeth's head, threading his fingers through her damp, silky hair. "How the hell can you know me so well? You say that I shield myself from you and yet you seem to see inside my head."

  Tears burned in her eyes. A warm, tingling flush of pain spread through her. "It doesn't take a psychic to figure you out." Turning her face just a fraction, she looked up at him. All it takes is a woman who cares about you, Elizabeth thought.

  Reece's breath caught in his chest, creating an agonized constriction. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Radiant and warm. Tender and caring. He wanted her in a way he'd never thought it possible to want another human being. Not only did he want to possess her body, to make love to her until he was spent, he wanted to cherish all that she was-the goodness that made Elizabeth Mallory unique in a world of lesser women. He wanted to protect her from every harm, to ease her pain, to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

  He wanted her to open her arms to him, to call his name, to bring him out of the darkness in which he existed into the warm, pure light of her life.

  The truth hit him full force, like a lightning bolt out of the blue. A truth he knew only too well. A truth he had allowed himself to momentarily forget.

  Reece placed his hands at Elizabeth's waist, helping her to her feet as he stood, then shoving her gently away from him. Why had he, for one minute, thought he was good enough for Elizabeth? What could he offer her? Nothing. Absolutely nothing she wanted or needed. Right now, as an escaped convict on the run, he offered her danger and uncertainty. If and when he was cleared of B.K.'s murder and could offer her the wealth and power his inheritance would afford him, he could offer her anything money could buy. But Elizabeth would not want material things; she would want his love.

  They stared at each other, lone-wolf amber mating briefly with angelic blue innocence. Elizabeth knew he was going to leave her, that no matter how much his soul longed for all she offered him, his inner demons demanded a battle to the death.

  He walked away, halting briefly to turn partially toward her as he neared the doorway. "I'll sleep in one of the upstairs bedrooms tonight."

  "Yes. I understand."

  "Whatever I decide... I want you to know how grateful I am for all your help. I probably owe you my life. I'll never forget-"

  "It's all right, Reece. You don't have to thank me. I did only what I wanted to do-what I had to do." But I've failed, haven't I? Even if we can save you from prison, will I be able to save you from yourself?

  Reece had no idea what time it was, how close to midnight, how close to dawn. All he knew was that he hadn't been able to sleep, that he had spent what seemed like endless hours fighting the demons in his soul. How did a man who had spent his life taking care of himself, never trusting or counting on anyone else, give in to the weakness of putting himself in someone else's care?

  Was that his problem? Reece wondered. Did he see trust and caring as weaknesses? Why couldn't he consider them strengths? After all, it would take far more courage for him to willingly turn himself over to the sheriff and put his trust in others than it would to keep on running.

  He slipped into his jeans, zipping them but leaving them unsnapped. The chill in the upstairs bedroom cautioned him against walking around bare chested. Lifting his shirt from the foot of the bed, he put it on and walked out into the hall. The cottage was pitch-black, including the stairway, except for the shimmering stream of moonlight flowing through the glass panes of the French door that separated the tiny foyer from the front porch.

  Reece made his way down the stairs, his booted feet creating a soft, steady beat against the wooden steps. There was no point in his turning and tossing the rest of the night. What he needed was a shot of whiskey if he could find some in the house, and knowing Tracy's tastes, he figured the liquor cabinet in the living room was stocked.

  The living room lay in darkness, the moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, forming soft, wavy shadows across the floor. Low, golden-crowned orange flames danced atop disintegrating logs in the fireplace. A hushed stillness, the winter peace of nature, the blessed quiet of aloneness permeated the room like a giant sponge that had soaked up a wellspring of tranquillity.

  He felt her presence before he saw her. The very idea of sensing Elizabeth without seeing her sent shock waves through Reece. Before he'd met her, he hadn't believed in much of anything, certainly not in anything he couldn't experience with his five senses. But since coming under her spell, he had learned to believe. He had learned to trust. He had learned to care. He didn't know exactly how she'd done it, but Elizabeth Mallory had begun to perform a miracle inside him. A half-formed miracle-incomplete, but the beginning was there.

  He stood in the arched opening leading from the foyer to the living room. His heart beat steadily. He heard its thumping rhythm pounding in his ears.

  And then he felt Elizabeth's loneliness, the deep sadness that filled her heart. Her quiet, gulping sobs blasted like trumpets when he heard them. She was crying for him. Crying because he could not cry, just as she had done before, the day they had stood on her back porch in Sequana Falls and he had shared a part of his past with her.

  He crept into the room with silent steps, wanting to be nearer yet afraid to confront what he knew he would face once he'd touched her. She sat curled up in the white wicker rocker by one of the windows, a flowered afghan draped around her, her legs hugged up against her body, her chin resting on her knees.

  She wore her thermal underwear, the ones with the tiny flowers printed on the cotton fabric. Her hair had dried and hung loosely around her shoulders, down her back, the tips almost touching her waist.

  The moonlight spread over her, coating her like a sheer, radiant veil. She glowed, lighting the darkness the way stars illuminate the night sky.

  Reece wanted to run, but his feet didn't move. If he stayed, he wouldn't be able to resist her. Even now, without touching her, he felt the power of her enticement, calling to him, offering him everything and mote, so much more than he'd ever thought possible.

  "I'm going to turn myself in to the sheriff in the morning." He heard her gasp softly and swallow her tears.

  "I won't desert you," she told him, her voice a tender whisper in the darkness. "I'll stay with you and help you. We'll get through this together."

  She eased her legs down, touching her feet to the floor. Draping the afghan across her breasts, she stood. Reece hesitated for one brief second, then he held open his arms. Elizabeth stared at him, her breathing slow and heavy. She walked toward him, each step measured, giving herself time to accept the inevitable.

  When she stood less than two feet in front of him, she looked at him, then closed her eyes. Once done, some things can never be undone, she told herself. Be sure you are prepared for this, be certain that, if need be, you can go on without him. Know in your heart that you are willing to raise his child alone-the child he will give you tonight if you make love with him.

  The knowledge that she had glimpsed her future shook Elizabeth to the very core of her soul. Never had she allowed herself the freedom to see into her own future. But she ha
d not allowed herself to do so this time. It had simply happened.

  She shivered, every nerve ending in her body alive with the knowledge that she was destined to love Reece Landry, that he had been sent to her, in her dreams, in her visions, a gift from the gods.

  Reece pulled her into his embrace. The afghan slipped off her shoulders, falling at her feet like a pastel flower bed. She trembled as she slid her arms up around his neck, relaxing her body against his. Accepting. Trusting. Yearning. Loving.

  The very nearness of him, the hard, demanding strength of him, the heady, masculine aura surrounding him sucked Elizabeth into a vortex of desire, a whirlpool of passion that demanded she surrender herself.

  Reece shuddered with a fierce need to possess the woman in his arms, to lay her down and cover her with his body. He inched his hand up her back, under the fall of silky dark hair, lifting the coffee brown strands, burying his face against her neck, gripping the back of her head with his open palm. She smelled of fresh sweetness, clean and pure.

  Elizabeth clung to him, losing herself in the moment, in the feel of him, the hard, lean-muscled feel of a man. Her heart fluttered inside her, like a trapped bird fighting to escape. Her heart longed to escape, to soar, to join with his and become a part of him.

  She felt the wild, racing beat of his heart as she laid her face against his chest. She heard the loud, strong pounding. Her whole body throbbed with a need so intense she wanted to scream, to cry out for release, to plead for the exhilarating torment to end.

  Reece lifted her head, turning her to face him, lowering his mouth over hers, laying claim to her lips. Elizabeth greeted his kiss with hungry anticipation, relief shooting through her. The tension mounted higher and higher when he thrust his tongue inside, devouring her with his need.

  Elizabeth's fingers bit into his shoulders. Reece's free hand roamed down her back, grasping her buttocks, caressing her with a tender fury. He held her head immobile, drinking deeply from her sweetness, wanting-desperately needing-all she had to give.

  Their bodies pressed together, her breasts crushed to his chest, his maleness throbbing against her stomach.

  Reece tried to speak, tried to tell her how much he wanted her, but words seemed redundant. He raised her thermal top, easing it slowly, inch by inch until it lay in a fat roll under her arms. Her full, round breasts, the nipples jutting into sensitive hardness, beckoned his touch. Reece delved one hand down the back of her thermal bottoms, then reached out with his other hand, covering her breast, kneading softly, then playing with her nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

  The sheer, agonized delight of his touch spiraled through Elizabeth like fire along a thin trail of kerosene, flames burning higher and higher, quickly out of control. She writhed against him, moaning with a pleasure close to pain.

  Shoving back his unbuttoned shirt, she caressed his chest. She loved the feel of his tight muscles, the thick mat of curling chest hair, the tiny male nipples tight with desire.

  "I want you," she told him on a breathless sigh. "Make love to me."

  She knew what she was asking-all that she was asking. Reece knew only part. He could not know that, tonight, he would give her his child.

  She could have turned from him, said no, refused them both the unequaled pleasure of loving each other. She could ask him to use protection, but in her heart of hearts she knew that she did not want to refuse him, she did not want to prevent his seed from creating a new life within her body.

  She loved Reece Landry. And she wanted his child.

  Reece pulled the thermal top over her head, tossing it to the floor, then lowered the bottoms down her legs and over her feet. She stood before him totally naked, the moonlight creating a halo around her body. Reece shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall where it would. When he unzipped his jeans, Elizabeth stilled his hands, covering them with hers.

  She dropped to her knees, burying her face against him as she clutched the waistband of his jeans and tugged them over his hips. The faded jeans dropped slowly down his legs, landing in a pile of denim at his feet. Reece kicked his pants out of the way.

  Elizabeth caressed his stomach, then spread her arms around him, cupping his buttocks, squeezing them.

  Reece moaned. She smelled the heady fragrance of his arousal and breathed deeply, savoring the elemental maleness that was uniquely Reece's own. When her lips touched him, he trembled, sighing, almost crying with pleasure.

  Her inexperience brought out her insecurities, but the depth of her love overcame her innocent shyness. She made love to Reece, drunk on the power she possessed over him, reveling in the wanton groans she elicited from him. When she took him into her mouth he grasped the back of her head, guiding her, teaching her with his touch.

  Unbearable pleasure rocketed through Reece, spilling out of him, saturating the very air he breathed. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath. Slowly withdrawing himself and dropping to his knees, he lifted her face to his, tasting himself on her lips.

  Smiling, she shut her eyes, giving herself over to him, allowing him free rein of her body. He deepened the kiss. She clasped his shoulders. He caressed her, his big hands roaming over her back, her waist, inching upward to lift the weight of her throbbing breasts. He kissed her lips, then her chin, gliding his tongue down her throat. Stopping his pilgrimage in the hollow between her breasts, he gazed at her and smiled.

  "You certainly know how to bring a man to his knees, Lizzie."

  Laughter erupted in her chest, bubbling up and out of her. "Oh, Reece, I-"

  He silenced her with his mouth, obliterating her words, keeping her from declaring her love for him. She didn't have to say the words. Her actions spoke for her.

  Taking her hands in his, Reece stood and lifted her to her feet. He led her out of the living room and down the hall, pausing every second or two to kiss her. When they entered the bedroom, she lay on the bed and opened her arms, inviting him into the warmth, the passion, the love he could know only with her.

  Reece could no more deny her than he could will the sun not to rise or the earth to stop revolving. He came down on top of her, covering her body with his. He made a banquet feast of her, nibbling, tasting, sampling every inch of her, devouring her with his fierce desire.

  Elizabeth squirmed beneath the mastery of his hands and mouth, learning exactly how much pleasure a man can give a woman if he chooses to do so. And Reece Landry chose to take her to heaven that night, to give her abundant sensual joy.

  Her breasts begged for his attention, then ached with throbbing need when he touched them, kissed them, suckled them. She felt herself drifting in a sea of ever-increasing awareness, finding herself on the brink of drowning in rapture when Reece spread her legs and pleasured her with his mouth. She cried out as her body shook with release.

  He lifted himself over her, gazing down at her damp face, her flushed cheeks, her lips moist and open.

  "You're an angel, Elizabeth. My angel."

  He took her then, before she could respond, before she could proclaim her love. He filled her completely, her body, her heart, her soul. As surely as she knew she loved Reece Landry, she knew this moment was meant to be.

  They loved with a wild abandon that neither had ever known or would ever know again, except in each other's arms. It was madness. It was ecstasy.

  And when they reached their climaxes, she first and he following quickly, they lay in each other's arms, in the cool, dark stillness of the night, neither of them speaking. He listened to her breathe; she listened to him breathe. Reece pulled the covers up over them. He kissed Elizabeth on the forehead. She snuggled against him.

  Smiling, she laid her hand on her stomach. No matter what tomorrow brought, she knew she would never lose Reece. She carried his child in her body. He would be a part of her forever.

  Chapter 12

  Reece sat straight up in bed, the sheet and quilt falling to his waist. Adrenaline pumped through his body like flood-waters from a broken
dam. Something had awakened him. He ran his hand over his face, blinking his eyes. Listening intently, he heard only the sound of his own heartbeat, and Elizabeth's soft, steady breathing as she lay nestled at his side.

  He heard a car door slam, and then another. Laughter. Silly, drunken laughter. Tracy Stanton's laughter.

  "Dammit!" He muttered the word under his breath as he threw back the covers and got out of bed. What the hell was she doing here in February? He'd had no idea that she used her parents' summer cottage as a trysting place in the winter months. She'd brought him here in May.

  The keys to the Jeep and the T-Bird were on the night-stand. If they hurried, they could be out of the house before Tracy and her lover came inside.

  Suddenly Reece remembered that his and Elizabeth's clothes were scattered on the living room floor. Damn! Making his way out of the dark bedroom, he eased open the door and dashed down the hallway, bumping into the edge of a small oak table in the foyer. He stifled a vivid curse, damning the table silently.

  He could hear Tracy's voice outside, but not yet on the porch. She laughed again, then a deep male voice said something Reece couldn't quite make out.

  Thankful that so many windows graced the living room, allowing in the moonlight, Reece scrambled around on the floor, picking up the clothing Elizabeth and he had discarded so carelessly only a few hours ago.

  As he made his way back into the foyer, he heard footsteps on the porch, then a loud, heavy thud.

  Tracy's laughter echoed in the black stillness. "What's the matter, Jeffie-pooh, are you drunk?"

  "Hell, yes," Jeffie-pooh said. "Come on, Trace, give a guy a hand."

  "You got down there all by yourself, lover. You can pick yourself up. I'm going inside. It's freezing out here."

  Reece heard the key sliding into the lock, and saw two shadows outside the French door. Careful to avoid the foyer table, he rushed back to the bedroom. He pulled on his jeans and shirt, then slipped on his boots, not worrying about his socks. Finding Elizabeth's bag at the foot of the bed, he pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater, then stuffed her thermal underwear into the bag. Leaning over the bed, he gave Elizabeth a gentle shake.