Placing the tray on the bedside table, she examined the wound in his side. Despite her crude medical skill, he seemed to be healing remarkably quickly.
"I'll put a fresh bandage on that after you eat," she said, handing him the tray. "Can I bring you anything else?"
"No, this is fine."
"Well, okay, I'll be back in a little while."
"Stay."
"All right."
She sat down in the rocker, trying not to stare at him while he ate. Even sitting in the bed, he seemed to fill the small guest room with his presence. She glanced at his jaw, wondering why he never needed a shave.
She felt her cheeks blossom with color when he looked at her, his silver-blue eyes filled with warmth and affection.
"Thank you, Lainey," he said, his voice low and a little uneven. "You saved my life."
"I'm glad I was able to help."
"You did more than help. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come when you did."
She nodded, then frowned. "How is it that I can hear your voice in my mind?"
"Simple telepathy."
"Simple! I've never heard voices in my head before… well, I have, the voices of the characters in my books, but not like this. How do you do it?"
Micah shrugged, as if it were of little consequence. "There's a link between us. When I wish to communicate with you, I tie into that link."
"What link? I don't understand."
"I'm not sure I do, either. It's never happened to me before."
"Me, either," she muttered. "What's in that black box?"
She watched his face, saw the varying emotions that flickered in the depths of his eyes. He had never lied to her before, but she knew he was considering it now.
The doorbell rang before he answered. With a sigh of exasperation, she went to see who it was.
"Yes?" Lainey peered through the peephole. Two men, one tall and thin, one short and thin, both dressed in navy-blue suits and ties, stood on the porch; a police officer stood behind them, his brawny arms folded across his chest.
"Miss Lainey St.John?"
"Yes."
"We'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."
She glanced at the cop again. "What about?"
"We'd rather not discuss it out here, if you don't mind."
Lainey stared at the three men, wondering what to do, when she heard Micah's voice in the back of her mind. Let them in.
The police officer took a step forward. "I can get a search warrant, if necessary."
A search warrant! Lainey unlocked the door, unhooked the latch on the screen, and stood back, a shiver of alarm skating down her spine as the three men entered the front room. It didn't occur to her to invite them to sit down.
"What's this all about?"
"I'm Frank Bergen, from SETI," the tall man said. "This is my partner, Edward Falk. We'd like to ask you a few questions."
SETI! She tried to recall what the letters stood for. SETI. She repeated the initials in her mind. Didn't they stand for Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence?
Lainey frowned. Weren't they the people who had been looking for Jeff Bridges in Starman, some organization hoping to find proof that there was life in outer space? What were they doing here?
Frank Bergen's gaze swept the room. "Do you live here alone?''
"Yes."
"Are you alone now?"
"Y…yes."
Bergen looked skeptical. "Have you ever been to the Grayson mansion up on Northcliff Road?''
So that was what this was all about, she thought. They had found her fingerprints at the mansion. "Is that why you're here? You've come to arrest me for breaking and entering?"
Bergen grimaced. "When was the last time you were up there?"
"A couple of days ago. I'm writing a mystery, and I thought the mansion would be a good setting. I've been up there a couple of times. To take pictures." She was babbling and couldn't seem to stop. "My car broke down and I spent the night there. I didn't take anything. Except pictures. Would you like to see them?"
Frank Bergen grunted softly and made a note in a little black book pulled from his inside coat pocket.
"What is this all about?"
"A couple of joggers said they saw lights on in the house. We're just checking it out."
Lainey glanced at the police officer. "Why would that interest SETI?"
Edward Falk stepped forward. "Is this yours?"
Lainey glanced at the paperback book in his hand. It was the mystery novel she had taken up to the house to read to Micah.
"I wrote it, if that's what you mean."
"We found it at the mansion."
"So? Lots of people read my books."
"So we're a little short on leads, that's all," Bergen explained. "We figure some transient probably left it behind."
"Mind if we look around?" Falk asked.
She glanced at the police officer, wondering if his talk of a search warrant was just a bluff, but he didn't look as though he was bluffing.
Lainey shrugged, more confused than ever by SETI's interest in the old Grayson place. What were they looking for, and why did they think she had anything to do with it, whatever it was?
"Help yourself," she said, hoping that, if she acted as if she had nothing to hide, they'd go away.
They didn't. The shorter of the two suits stayed in the front room with her while the policeman followed the other suit into the kitchen.
Lainey could hear them moving from room to room, felt her nerves stretch to the breaking point as they neared the guest room. Her fingernails dug into her palms as she waited for… what? A shout of discovery? A gunshot?
She glanced around the room, and then her gaze fell on the black box on top of the television. Casually, she crossed the room and picked up the box and the cup she'd left there earlier.
"Would you care for a cup of coffee?" she asked, rattling the cup as she glanced over her shoulder.
Falk shook his head and Lainey walked into the kitchen, careful to keep the box hidden from his view. She slipped it under a dish towel and poured herself a cup of coffee. When she turned around, she saw Falk standing in the doorway.
"Sure you won't have a cup?" she asked.
"No, thanks."
He stepped aside to allow her to return to the living room. She was relieved when he followed her.
A few minutes later, Bergen and the police officer entered the room.
Frank Bergen glanced at his partner and shook his head. "There's no one here."
"Want me to dust the place for prints?" the police officer asked.
Frank Bergen regarded Lainey for a long moment, then shook his head. "I don't think so." He shoved his notebook into his coat pocket with an air of finality. "Let's go, Ed. Sorry to have troubled you, Miss St. John."
"What is it, exactly, that you're looking for?"
"A fugitive. Thanks for your time."
Lainey nodded. She watched them drive away, then closed and locked the door. If Micah wasn't here, where was he?
Chapter Nine
"Lainey?"
She whirled around at the sound of his voice. "Micah!"
He stood in the doorway, wrapped in one of her flowered sheets, and a bandage. "Have they gone?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have involved you in this."
"It's all right," she said with a shrug, although a thousand questions crowded her mind. "They said you were a fugitive."
"I'm not."
"Why didn't they find you? Where did you go?"
"I went out the window."
"You might not be safe here," Lainey said. "They might come back."
"Then I'll go out the window again. Unless you wish me to leave."
"No." She didn't want him to leave. Not now. Not ever.
"Lainey…"
Her gaze met his and something warm and tangible arced between them, a need that sizzled like chain lightning, an awareness that pulsed in time to the beat
of her heart, making her forget everything but the look in his eye and the sudden, fluttery feeling in her stomach.
"Micah?"
She whispered his name, afraid to cross the invisible barrier between them, knowing that once she stepped into his arms, she'd never be able to turn back. She would be his then, body and soul, and she had vowed never to let another man wield that kind of power over her again. It was too traumatic when it was over, too painful to look back and think of what might have been.
Resolutely, she took a step backward and crossed her arms over her breasts in a decidedly defensive gesture.
Micah looked at Lainey, at her rigid stance, at the wary expression on her face. Only a few feet of carpeted floor separated them, yet he felt as if a chasm had opened between them.
Overwhelmed by a sharp sense of loss, he took a step toward her. "Lainey, let me hold you."
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"Please." The look in his eyes spoke more eloquently than words. "Just for a moment."
She went to him because she couldn't resist the pleading in his gaze, the need in his voice.
She went because he was hurting and far from home.
She went because she wanted to.
Lainey rested her head on his chest, felt his arm circle her waist. As before, she was flooded with a sense of peace, of coming home after a long absence.
Micah held her for a long while, saying nothing, doing nothing more than holding her close while he lightly stroked her hair. She made him feel strong, invincible, and yet strangely vulnerable, continually arousing emotions he had never experienced, making him question the habits of a lifetime.
"You can tell me," Lainey said quietly. "Whatever it is you're running from, you can tell me."
"I wish I could."
She heard the regret in his voice, the need to share his troubles with someone who would listen and understand. "Don't you trust me?"
"With my life, cominza."
"Cominza?"
"It means my lovely one."
Lainey tilted her head back so she could see his face. "You trust me with your life, but not your secrets?"
"It's for your own good," Micah said. And mine.
"Okay, okay, I give up."
"Lainey, if you only knew… if I only had the words to tell you…"
"Tell me what?"
"How you make me feel. When I hold you like this, I feel as though anything is possible, anything at all."
"There's nothing wrong with those words." Deeply touched, she resorted to humor as she frequently did when she was genuinely moved or embarrassed.
"Lainey…"
"I'm sorry."
"No. I've never felt anything like this before. It scares me a little."
He wasn't like Drew at all, she thought. Drew had always been self-confident, assured, secure in his charm, in his ability to say just the right thing. A real macho jerk.
Lainey let her gaze meld with Micah's. He might be hiding all kinds of secrets about his life, his past, but there was nothing secretive about the look in his eyes, those amazing silver-blue eyes that revealed a vulnerability and a yearning that went straight to her heart.
"I'm a little scared myself," Lainey admitted. "But it's a wonderful kind of fright."
"Yes," Micah agreed. "Wonderful."
She was so beautiful. Her dark brown eyes were guileless; her skin was smooth and clear. Her hair curled around her face like a soft black cloud. And her lips… those full pink lips that beckoned and tempted…
Slowly, unable to stop himself, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. Her lips were warm and soft and pliant. He kissed her, gently, tentatively, and then he kissed her again. A moment could have passed. An eternity could have passed.
Her lips parted and his tongue touched hers. Tiny flames of fire ignited in his groin, heating the blood that flowed through his veins. Driven by a need more powerful than any he'd ever known, he let his arms tighten around her, drawing her up against him so there could be no doubt of what he felt, what he wanted.
Lainey surrendered to the hunger he aroused in her. Her head fell back and she shivered with pleasure as his lips burned a path along her neck before returning to her mouth. His tongue danced with hers, his hands caressed her back, her belly, the curve of her breast. She felt a tremor of anticipation when she felt the unmistakable evidence of his desire.
"Micah," she murmured breathlessly, "you aren't going to send me away again, are you?"
He looked confused. "Send you away?"
"Last time we kissed like this, you sent me away, remember?"
"I remember." He smiled down at her. "I was afraid of hurting you."
"And now?'' She stood on tiptoe and pressed butterfly kisses to his cheek.
"I'm still afraid of hurting you," he admitted in a voice like rough velvet, "but I don't ever want to let you go."
"And I don't want you to."
For a timeless moment, they gazed into each other's eyes. And then, drawn by a power he was helpless to resist, he covered her mouth with his while the sheet fell, unnoticed, to the floor.
It seemed to be a kiss without beginning, without end. Slowly, their arms locked around each other, they sank to the floor.
Lainey caressed his bare back, loving the touch of his heated flesh beneath her fingertips. She was breathless when he drew away and she tilted her head back, giving him access to her throat. For a moment, he only stared at her, and then he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her wildly beating pulse.
"Lainey, I want…"
"What?" she murmured, her tone low and seductive. "What do you want?"
"I'm not sure." He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the musky scent of her skin, the flowery scent of her hair. "I've never…"
"Never?"
He shook his head, afraid of appearing a fool. "I don't know what you expect, how to please you."
"Well, you're doing a first-rate job so far," Lainey murmured. She pulled away a little so she could see his face. "Just do whatever you want."
"I want to touch you and kiss you, memorize every lovely curve. I want to draw you into myself and never let you go." Hesitantly, his hand cupped her breast, then splayed over her heart. "I want your heart to beat with mine."
"Oh, Micah…"
His hungry gaze trapped hers as he started to undress her, waiting for her permission even though she'd already told him to do whatever he wished.
She nodded slightly, her eyes watching him as he undressed her, loving the way his breath caught in his throat as his gaze moved over her, warming her from the inside out. He caressed her as if she were made of spun glass, as if she might shatter if he held her too hard.
It was like being worshiped, she thought, like being adored. His hands and lips were ever so gentle as they explored her, learning what made her sigh with pleasure, what made her gasp with longing. She held him and coaxed him until he was quivering with need, and when they came together it was like two stars colliding.
They lay spent in each other's arms for a long while, her head pillowed in the hollow of his shoulder, his arm curved possessively around her waist. It felt so right, Lainey thought. Making love to Drew had never been like this. And yet she couldn't help feeling a little guilty. She had refused to let Drew touch her until they were legally and lawfully married, and yet she had melted in Micah's arms after knowing him for only a matter of days.
Micah, keenly attuned to her moods, sensed her doubts. "You're sorry we joined," he said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. "Why?"
"I'm not sorry."' Nervously, she licked her lower lip. "It's just that this is all happening so fast. I don't want you to think that… what I'm trying to say is that I don't sleep around, Micah. I never have."
"Sleep around?" Turning on his side, he propped his head on one hand and stared down at her, his brow furrowed
"I don't have casual sex."
"You call this casual?"
"No. I guess I'm not making myself clear. What I mean is that I don't just sleep with every guy I meet. I haven't been with a man since my divorce and…"
"Divorce?"
Lainey nodded. "I divorced my first husband a little over two years ago."
"I don't understand divorce."
"I was married, and now I'm not."
"Married." The word stabbed him to the heart. It was an earth term that meant to join, to unite. To mate.
She had been with another man. Jealousy was an emotion he had not heretofore experienced, but he recognized it immediately. "Do you have offspring?"
"No." There was a world of sadness in that one single word. "I'm only telling you this because I don't want you to think badly of me."
"And do you think badly of me because of what we have done?"
"No. I just don't want you to think I'm promiscuous."
Micah grunted softly, unable to think of anything other than the fact that she had been with another man, that he was not the first to hold her, to touch her, to receive the gift of her love.
He tried to think logically, to convince himself that there was no reason for him to be jealous that she had been with another man, no basis for the swift unreasoning anger that swept through him when he imagined her in another man's arms, but the feelings remained, along with the fact that she had been married and divorced.
His people did not mate for life; hence there was no such thing as divorce. They came together to procreate, then went their separate ways. If a male felt the need for sexual release outside of the mating ritual, there were planets where those cravings could be satisfied. But what he wanted from Lainey was more than the sexual gratification they had shared. His need for her was an ache he had never known before, a soul-deep hunger that was deeper and more meaningful than a few moments of physical relief. He wanted to know her heart and her mind, to share in her every thought, her every hope, her every aspiration.
More than that, he wanted to share his thoughts and dreams with her, tell her everything… And that he could never do.
The full impact of what he had done hit him then. He had joined with a woman not of his world. Joined with a woman who could never be his.
It took every shred of self-control he possessed to let her go. He slid away, putting a little space between them, immediately aware of a sense of emptiness, as if a vital piece of himself had been lost.
SUNLIGHT, MOONLIGHT Page 6
