by BETH KERY
The silence swelled.
Slowly, determinedly, she began to move Dylan’s T-shirt up over his torso. He caught her hand at his waist.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I want to make love,” she said.
“Now? After all this?” he asked, sounding stunned.
She pushed her hand away from his restraining one and shoved it up under his shirt. His skin felt warm and smooth, the hair on his chest springy, a sensual delight beneath her seeking fingertips. She found a nipple and rubbed the disc with her fingertip.
“Especially after all this. You’re the realest thing in the world to me right now. I need to feel more of you, not less,” she said huskily, feeling his nipple harden at her ministrations. She craned up for him, seeking his mouth. Like that first time in the stables, he didn’t kiss her back at first, but she felt the give in his firm lips. “Please,” she whispered against his mouth.
And just like that other time, he came to her, gifting her with his heat and his strength.
He rolled partially on top of her, his mouth seizing hers, his tongue piercing her lips. Like always, he owned her in those moments. He swept aside everything else. His scent and taste inundated. Intoxicated. Alice delved her fingers into his thick hair, gripping him to her. God, she needed him so much. The complexity of her feelings for him, a depth of emotion that made no logical sense to her in the past, rushed through her at that moment. Just a glimpse of what he meant to her, and how their lives had been mysteriously entwined, swelled large in her spirit and flesh, threatening to explode.
She couldn’t understand all of those things. She couldn’t assimilate them.
But Dylan, she could absorb wholeheartedly.
His hands opened on the side of her ribs, his fingers curving around her back. He embraced her heart. His fingers moved, and her bra snapped open. His hands moved beneath the fabric, cupping her breasts tenderly.
“Alice,” he whispered tensely, his mouth moving along her throat. His fingertips plucked gently at her nipples. Heat rushed through her, hardening the flesh Dylan touched, softening her sex. He leaned up slightly, and drew her bra off her arms. She could see the gleam in his dark eyes as he looked down at her a moment later.
“You’re a miracle to me. I wanted to tell you the second I saw you. So much,” he bit off. “But I couldn’t.”
His lips trailed over her skin, both soothing and mounting the ache in her chest and between her thighs. He kissed a breast, his mouth closing over a nipple, and Alice gasped and trembled. There was hunger and possession in his touch, but it was twined with a reverence that nearly overwhelmed her.
She felt herself falling again, and she felt the familiar breathless struggle. His mouth blazed across her ribs and belly. His tongue slipped beneath the elastic of her panties, and she found herself reaching for him, trusting him to catch her when she fell.
TWENTY
After they made love, Dylan insisted that she eat something. He got up from bed to go to the kitchen. Alice watched him pull up his jeans over his smooth, muscular ass and scurried out of bed.
“Get back in,” he said, eyebrows slanting. “I’ll bring it to you.”
She shook her head and grabbed her shirt from the carpet. “I’m not an invalid.”
“Alice—”
“I want to go with you,” she interrupted with a fierce glance.
She didn’t want to lie there in that bed alone, waiting in dread while the swirl of emotion and confusion grew nearer and nearer.
He studied her closely, and then nodded once. “Put on the robe I got you, then,” he instructed gruffly. “There’s no call for you getting dressed again. Louise and Marie are gone by now.”
Down in the kitchen, Dylan opened a can of soup and put it on the stove to heat, while Alice chose the ingredients for some sandwiches.
“Do you mind if I call Sidney?” Dylan asked her as she laid out bread on two plates.
“No. You told him you’d call,” Alice said neutrally, finding the drawer that held silverware. “I heard him say he was a doctor. What kind of a doctor is he?”
“A psychiatrist. One of the best there is. He consults for Durand Enterprises, and has an office in Morgantown. He’ll want to know how you’re doing.”
She nodded with forced casualness, finding a paring knife to cut a tomato.
“Alice?”
“Yeah?” she asked, looking up from her task.
“How are you doing?”
She blinked and laughed. “I’m okay.”
He nodded slowly, and Alice knew he didn’t believe her. But what could she say? She wasn’t anywhere near as bad off as she’d been in the den, when she’d been convinced due to a lifetime fear that it was about to be revealed that she was the daughter of Sissy and one of her uncles. How stupid could she be? Why would Dylan bother to find out about that? As unlikely as that scenario was, it seemed far less bizarre than what he’d told her instead.
She picked up the top slice of the tomato and popped it into her mouth. “Just tell him I’m in a holding pattern,” she said as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows when Dylan didn’t move. “It’s a pretty good place to be for now, don’t you think?” she asked him dryly. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
He grunted softly, clearly only partially convinced, and turned to dial his phone.
AFTER Dylan had spoken to Sidney and they’d eaten their dinner from a tray in Dylan’s suite, Alice asked if they could watch television. Dylan must have sensed she was coping by distracting herself, but he made no comment about it. He merely got up and moved the console doors on a large armoire, revealing a television and entertainment system. It soothed her, like a calm before the storm, to lie on the pillows with Dylan spooning her, willing her mind to go blank as they watched the end of a comedy on one of the movie channels.
She yawned as the credits began to roll at the end, and turned toward Dylan.
“I should go to sleep. I have a big day tomorrow,” she said.
His expression stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Marco Fernandez is doing his public speaking presentation at eleven. He’s demonstrating how to cook chili, and I’m supposed to help him prep and be moral support. Oh, and I’m trying to get Terrance hooked into jogging, and we’re going out together early. I haven’t told you much about him, but he’s this really bright kid, a jokester, and he’s got no one at home who has really looked out for his health. He’s diabetic and dangerously overweight. I really want to teach him some basic self-care. I bet Terrance about a play in football. When I won, I challenged him to—”
“Alice,” Dylan said, halting her rambling.
“What?” she asked, surprised by his abrupt tone.
“You act like you plan on going back to the camp tomorrow, back to being a counselor,” he said.
“That’s because I do. What else would I plan on doing tomorrow?”
He leaned up slowly on his elbow, spearing her with his stare.
“Do you remember what happened in the den? What we talked about up here?”
She realized he thought she’d repressed everything, because she was so traumatized or something. “I remember it all, Dylan.”
“Then why would you think you’d go back to being a counselor? Hiring you was only a scheme Sidney and I came up with to get you back into these surroundings without forcing things on you, to try to figure out how much you remembered … if anything.”
She pressed her hand against her heart, as if to alleviate the pinch of sudden pressure. It felt like ice water spilled down her spine. “Oh my God. You mean … you really didn’t think I was good enough to be here?” she asked, horrified. She hadn’t even considered this angle. “I kept thinking it was a mistake. I should have known! I think lots of people—like Kehoe—are wondering what the hell I’m doing here. It couldn’t be any clearer I don’t belong—”
He sat up abruptly and clutched at her shoulders, bringing her to a sitting position nex
t to him. She gasped at his firm action, halting her pressured speech.
“Alice, stop it. You’re more than qualified to be here. And how can you say you don’t belong here? Here is you. This house. Durand Enterprises. Everything. I didn’t get a chance to mention the trust that’s was set up by Alan—”
“No, don’t, stop!” she blurted out, sounding frantic and stupid to her own ears. “They’re Addie Durand’s,” she said in a choked voice.
Dylan’s mouth clamped shut. His eyes looked wild. “I’m Alice,” she continued shakily. “And Alice Reed is a counselor at Camp Durand. I have a million things to do tomorrow, including announce to the kids that I’ve elected Judith their team leader and put out any fires that might be associated with that. And, oh right—and there’s the big campfire on the beach tomorrow after dinner! It’s the first time we get to hear the team point tallies so far.”
He shook his head, clearly stunned. Speechless. Her heart squeezed.
She put her hand on his jaw. “You have to let me do what I came here to do,” she said.
“It’s not right,” he said. “I won’t let you do it.”
“Are you saying you’re going to fire me as a counselor?”
“No. I can’t let you go down there and pretend like today didn’t happen!” he bellowed.
“I’m not pretending anything,” she exclaimed. “I remember what happened to you, Dylan. God, I’ll never forget,” she added feelingly. “I remember what happened to Addie. It’s going to take a while for me to figure out what it all means, and in the meantime, I’m going to live my life. My life.”
He grunted in disbelief, and glanced around the room as if searching for some tool in order to convince her. Her fingers dug into his hair, her fingertips rubbing his scalp. She hated seeing that tense, desperate look on his face.
“I’m not convinced you’re safe down at the camp,” he said suddenly, as if he’d landed on his weapon of choice and brandished it now.
She shut her eyes and shook her head. “I’m perfectly fine. Besides,” she added wearily, “it’s not like you’re not having me followed constantly, right?”
His gaze narrowed dangerously on her. She didn’t know why the thought had come to her all of a sudden, but his reaction informed her that her impulsive statement had been dead-on.
“Sal Rigo? That Durand manager? You have been having him follow me,” she said, anger entering her tone. “Why did you lie to me?” she paused and made a disgusted sound. “Right. Stupid question. You’ve made it your business to lie to me ever since I walked into that interview last May.”
“I only lied to you when it was necessary. You’ve been telling me yourself that you’re only ready to hear so much,” he said, and Alice could tell by his tight jaw she’d pricked his temper with her last comment. Well, she couldn’t help that. “Besides, I didn’t lie to you about Rigo. He and one other manager are from Durand’s security department. They’ve been brought in on a confidential basis, arranged solely by me, to keep an eye on you. It has nothing to do with the Durand executive selection process.”
Alice shook her head, incredulous at his admission. She vaguely recalled Kehoe mentioning on that first day she’d arrived that there were two more Durand managers there this summer than was usual. Dylan strikes again.
“None of the other Durand managers know the reason Rigo and Peterson are here, including Kehoe,” Dylan continued. “Our security division doesn’t usually attend the camp, and I told Kehoe at the last minute I thought their managers should be included. He couldn’t refuse. It’s not a bad idea. As for my lying to you, you asked me if Rigo was watching all the Durand counselors after hours, and I said no. Which is true,” he said with a sideways glare before he got up off the bed. “They were only hired to watch you.”
She sprung up off the bed as well and followed him to where he stood in front of a dresser, taking his phone out of his jeans pocket.
“Jesus. It was Rigo or Peterson that was following me in the woods that morning. Wasn’t it? By the stables?” she demanded.
A trace of annoyance crossed his handsome face. “I spoke to Peterson about it. Idiot. You’d think he’d never tailed anyone in his life. And then Rigo went and screwed up as well, letting you see him in the parking lot.”
Alice’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Hurt and embarrassment followed fast. “How could you not have said anything in the stables? How could you let me go on being that afraid when you knew who it was all along?”
He dropped the phone on the dresser with a thump and turned to her. “Damn it, what did you expect me to do?” he asked, his eyes ablaze. “You were scared out of your mind, and it wasn’t because a man was behind you on the path in those woods—or at least not completely. Peterson only triggered something in you, that’s all. A buried memory of something that happened a long time ago, a genuine fear for your life that happened in that exact same spot! You were in a panic, Alice. Are you forgetting where I said that kidnapping took place?”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she nearly shouted.
“So what do you expect me to do?” he replied just as fiercely. “Let you walk around like a lit fuse down there at the camp? Go to work at my office in town and pretend you couldn’t blow at any second back here, that something traumatic couldn’t happen to you?”
“I’m not that fragile!”
“Yes. You are,” he grated out, grasping her shoulders for emphasis. His deep voice rang in her ears like a struck gong.
She looked into his eyes and unwillingly saw his desperation. She couldn’t imagine what this was like for him. How could she imagine, really, when she couldn’t fully grasp what had happened to her in the past twelve hours of her life?
The last twelve hours? Every day, every minute of her entire life suddenly seemed inexplicable. She was mentally grasping for a sense of the familiar. Knowable.
She swallowed thickly. “I disagree,” she said more quietly. “But I’m trying to see your point of view.”
“Thank you,” he said, his hands tightening and then gentling on her shoulders.
She met his stare. “I’m still going to go back to work tomorrow at the camp.”
“Alice—”
“Nothing will have changed, Dylan. The men you brought here to look out for me will keep doing their job.”
“Everything’s changed.”
“If you don’t agree to this, then you’re going to have to fire me as a counselor. Because otherwise, I’m going back to the camp tomorrow.” Regret spiked through her at her unintended harshness. She reached, touching his whiskered jaw, trying to ease some of the anger and tension she saw there.
“You can’t just let this go on indefinitely,” he said.
“I won’t,” she whispered heatedly. “I just need time. Isn’t that a reasonable request? The camp, the kids—all of it is important to me. It’s familiar. Comfortable.”
A spasm went through his stiff features. “There’s so much you haven’t let me explain, Alice. I feel like I’d be sending you out into the world completely vulnerable. You’re even more at risk than you were before.”
She stepped closer to him, her arms going around his neck. He lowered his head slowly when she pressed gently at the back of his neck. She pressed her lips to his rigid ones. “I’m not a child. Not anymore. I’m going to be okay. Dylan?” she whispered when he didn’t respond, and his lips remained stiff.
“I want to speak to Sidney about it to get his opinion,” he said after a pause.
“Okay,” Alice agreed. She had a feeling from some of the things Sidney had said that he would agree more readily than Dylan. Hadn’t he told Dylan they should follow her lead? His arms went around her waist and he pulled her against him. She pressed her face against his chest.
“And you’ll keep spending the nights and Sundays with me. Otherwise I won’t agree to it.”
Alice smiled against a dense pectoral muscle and hugged him tighter. “I didn’t want that part
to change. If it weren’t for you, I think I’d be going stark raving mad right about now,” she mumbled.
Should she be angrier at Dylan for his lies and manipulation? Maybe. All Alice knew was that she couldn’t muster outrage at that moment. Perhaps to be angry at him would imply that she took it all personally, which she didn’t.
Addie Durand wasn’t her—Alice.
As if to willfully contradict her forceful thought, a vision of that woman in the hallway, the one wearing that filigreed gold bracelet popped into her mind’s eye. She clamped her eyelids shut against Dylan’s chest as a powerful emotion surged through her, and she desperately stifled it. She didn’t want Dylan to sense her piercing angst.
She knew who that woman was now.
It’d been Addie Durand’s mother, Lynn. She’d been calling out to her daughter. It’d been like little Addie’s memories had been transplanted into Alice’s head, or at least that’s what it felt like.
She held on to Dylan tighter, willing the agonizing moment to pass.
THE next day, she submersed herself in her work. Every time she started to feel fuzzy and disconnected, like she was watching herself in some kind of detached fashion from a perspective about two feet above her head, she reached out to Kuvi, Thad, Dave, or one of her kids, forcing herself to concentrate on the conversation and the moment.
All in all, it was a pretty decent day, despite everything. Again, she was reminded that she was a good actress under pressure. She and Terrance completed their exercise, Terrance complaining, puffing for air and joking the whole time, until Alice got a stitch from their slow-paced jog and laughing nonstop. Marco was extremely nervous for his public speaking demonstration, but came through with flying colors while Alice stood close by and played both support person and kitchen assistant.
Her team had been quietly amazed when she’d made the announcement that Judith would be their student team leader. Clearly, they’d been expecting that Noble D would be chosen. But when Noble was the first to clap and shout out an encouraging word to Judith, the rest of the team began to join him. Their cheer started subdued and escalated to enthusiastic as Judith stood to go and stand next to Alice, trying to hide her grin. Alice realized she’d never seen the girl smile without a trace of sarcasm or bitterness. Her happiness transformed her.
