by Summers, Amy
She looked up at him. She couldn't imagine fighting with him at all. If only she could leave right now and never see him again. Something in the current that flowed between them whenever their eyes met told her that Rafe Armstrong was just a bit more dangerous than she could handle.
"I always fight fair," she answered softly, with more confidence than she felt.
The smile left his eyes, and he gazed down into her upturned face as though puzzled by what he saw there. She was suddenly sure he was about to touch her, to reach out and run a finger across her cheek, to take her hair into his fist and pull her closer. Her breath came more quickly, and she watched, fascinated, while that intention flamed in his eyes. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away, unable to move, until the blazing look died and was gone.
He hadn't touched her at all, but she felt as though he had.
Abruptly she wheeled and started down the small canyon that opened from the cliff down toward the sandy shore, fleeing like a seabird from a mountain lion. Her heart was beating a wild tattoo against her ribs, and she knew her cheeks were flaming. This was crazy, insane. She had to get away from him.
But, of course, he was right behind her. Even as she welcomed the cold sea wind against her face and felt it cooling her raging blood, she heard his step. A wild panic rose in her throat. What would he do next?
"You'll be able to see the house plainly from the sea," he said casually from right behind her. "I like to think that sailors on passing ships will look at my house through their binoculars and feel a certain kinship with it."
Her back still to him, Thawn closed her eyes and drew a deep breath into her lungs. Nothing had happened. What was the matter with her? Nothing had happened at all, yet here she was behaving as though he'd made a serious pass. What a fool she was being!
"Why on earth should a sailor feel any sort of relationship to a house on the shore?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky but strong. She turned to face him for his answer.
He looked young suddenly, boyish, certainly less than the mid-thirties she knew him to be. He was obviously excited about the home he planned to build.
"Because this house is going to be different from any other house around here. I had it designed to incorporate three things: the beauty of the rocky coastline, the Spanish and Native American history of the area, and the connection to the sea." He shook his head at her. "You'll see what I mean when you see the sketches. It's a stunning place. When it's finished—"
"You'll need your permit first," she interrupted, "And that's what I'm here to see about."
She hoped he would take the hint and leave so she could get on with her work, but instead he grabbed her hand and began to pull her down the beach.
"Come on," he called above the sound of the wild wind and surf. "I'll show you."
Reluctant but unable to pull away, she followed him to an outcropping of rocks that spilled like children's toys from the cliff to form a tall pile in the water.
"Up here," he encouraged, dropping her hand, and beginning to scramble quickly up the rough surface of the rocks.
"What are we doing this for?" she asked as she followed, her feet slipping slightly, her hands catching at the cool, smooth surface of the larger rocks.
He laughed down at her. "Come on," he called. "Only a bit farther."
Thawn was a good climber. Under ordinary circumstances she would have had no problem with this easy trek. But her mind wasn't on what she was doing, and when the foot she was leaning all her weight on slipped, she began a slow, inexorable slide down the tumbled rocks.
She gasped and flailed her arms. Her clipboard went flying as she grasped for something to slow her fall. But the slope was covered with loose rock, and nothing was secure enough to break her fall.
The larger boulders were just below her. She dug her heels in, trying to get some leverage, but it was no use. She was going to hit them.
She screamed. Rafe was below her in a flash, jumping from one rock to another. One moment she was staring down at the hard boulder that was sure to smash her silly. The next his arms were around her, breaking her slide, holding her tightly against him.
"Are you all right?" He studied her anxiously. She felt the flutter again, the melting turmoil in her chest that disturbed her unbearably.
Unable to speak, she nodded. He looked relieved, then glanced back up at their destination. "I wanted you to see the view," he began, then looked back down at her, still held close in his arms. A slow smile softened his features. "But never mind, this view is so much better," he murmured, and then his mouth was on hers, warm and comforting in the cold sea air.
She didn't resist. She wanted his kiss, wanted to feel the fire that his lips kindled in her. As his mouth tested her, working slowly, deliciously, to find her hidden sweetness, she responded as though to a lover, opening the way to his penetration, reacting to the challenge of his kiss with a demand of her own. Not allowing her thoughts to intrude, she let the feel of him flow through her in a bright golden stream of pleasure.
His hand came up to tangle in her hair, holding her so that she wouldn't try to escape. But she didn't want to get away.
When finally he drew back, his eyes were full of wary wonder, as though he was surprised by something she'd done. She felt her cheeks redden, this time with embarrassment. As he gazed at her speculatively, she recovered her poise, rising out of the pool of sensuality she'd allowed herself to swim in like a drowning woman out of a stormy sea.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “I guess I shouldn’t have done that. Is that sort of thing considered coercion?” And he grinned as he pulled away.
Chapter 2
Confused, Thawn avoided Rafe's eyes, and went to retrieve her fallen clipboard. She didn't know whether to be angry or sad, and decided to try ignoring the incident.
How had that happened? She didn’t tend to kiss men in general, and for sure, she didn’t kiss men she knew were bad news. And this man was the worst. It was like she’d fallen into a trance, a spell, and she couldn’t resist him. For that moment, any way. She would never let that happen again.
But she couldn't ignore the way her blood was pulsing through her veins, and she couldn’t pretend she hadn't enjoyed the kiss.
"There's not much usable light left," she said, gesturing toward the sun, which hung low in the late spring sky. She'd left this call until last on a busy day. "Only a couple of hours. I'd better get going here."
Rafe didn't answer her, though she could see his denim-clad legs from beneath her lowered lashes as she gathered the rest of her papers. She turned to face him, dreading what she might see, but his eyes were hooded and unreadable, his face expressionless.
"Does my being along hinder your work?" he asked softly, watching her carefully.
She tried a casual laugh that came out false and strained. "As a matter of fact," she admitted, "I'm having some trouble concentrating. So if you wouldn't mind..."
He continued to stare at her. He was attracted to her; she knew that. Was he going to ask to see her again? She waited, pulse throbbing in her throat, not sure what she would answer.
But the question never came. Finally he seemed to draw himself up and away from her. "I'll be at the trailer if you want me for anything," he said crisply.
Without another glance, as though she were already dismissed from his mind, he strode off through the low chaparral.
She followed more slowly, wondering at the ridiculous flutter that still plagued her, the disappointment she felt now that he was actually leaving her.
She'd asked him to go, hadn't she? She'd wanted it with all her heart.
But no, that wasn't quite true. One small part of her seemed to wish very badly for him to stay.
He was so attractive. She wished she could put her finger on why. Then maybe she could fight his effect on her.
Stopping beside a cypress tree and leaning on the trunk that slanted away from the sea as though it was searching for an escape from the raw blast of cold
ocean wind, she took another covert glance at the man who'd just turned her complacent world upside down. He looked so strong, for all his slender build, and he'd felt strong, too, catching her, holding her.
There was no denying her response. There was no denying that she would like to feel that way again. They were bound to have more contact. Maybe if they saw each other now and then while she was working on this report...
But as she watched it became clear why that could never be. Before he had even started up the steps to his trailer home, the door flew open and a woman stood framed there, welcoming him back. She was tall and willowy, with dark hair hanging over her face like a silken curtain. Thawn turned away quickly, disdain curling her lip.
Of course he had a woman here. What had she been thinking? And while the woman he'd brought with him for an idyll at the ocean shore waited for him in the trailer, he was within shouting distance, making a pass at Thawn.
Angrily she took out her mapping charts and began to try to work. She should have known. How could she have made that naive mistake again?
A sudden memory flashed into focus. Mark had taken her to a beach party at the Malibu home of a famous stand-up comedian. She'd enjoyed it more than any other party they'd attended together. They'd spent the afternoon chasing waves and walking along the sandy beach. Everyone had seemed free from the usual posturing, more real and warm.
Evening had fallen and the partygoers were straggling inside from the beach. Thawn stepped into the empty kitchen to get a drink of water. Around the corner in the breakfast nook, she caught a glimpse of Rafe Armstrong talking to a man she didn't know.
As she filled her glass, she heard their voices clearly.
"That's some beauty you've got with you today," the stranger was saying. "You have a reputation for dating the best-looking women in town."
There was the suggestion of a smile in Rafe's voice as he answered quietly, "I do my best."
The other man's laugh sounded unpleasantly leering. "Well, I think you've outdone yourself this time. What's her name, anyway?"
Thawn replaced her glass carefully during the pause that followed and started to leave, but she heard Rafe's answer.
"You got me. I think it's Lisa or Tina or something like that."
"What the hell." The other man chortled. "With a face and body like that, she doesn't need a name."
Thawn had slammed the door behind her. It was a small show of temper, but she felt better afterward.
She'd quickly forgotten the incident, but as she thought of it now, she realized that Rafe was just like all the rest. Stories about his women had circulated through the industry. The joke went that although he was prolific as a producer, he made more unknown women into starlets than he did scripts into films. How could she have forgotten that?
With fierce determination she returned to her work. She would waste no more time on him.
Thawn walked carefully across the area on the rise where Rafe meant to build his dream house. Noticing the chalky whiteness of the strip where he'd dug up the earth with the heel of his boot, she moved closer and bent to examine the ground. Something about its appearance caught at her memory, and she took a small hammer from her pack and chipped away at the rocky soil.
A few inches down the chunks fell into her hand.
Curiously shaped, rounded and smooth, they looked familiar to her, though only bits and pieces of what they'd once been remained. Stealing another glance at the trailer to see if she was being observed, she pulled a sample bag out of her pocket and filled it with the specimens. Then she packed her belongings and walked purposefully toward her car. That dream house of Mr. Armstrong's just might be in more peril than he imagined.
“They're ammonites, aren't they?" she demanded impatiently later that night, picking up a piece and turning it slowly under the light. "Well, say something!"
Tom Sutton raised his blue eyes in mock disapproval and glared at her. "Science is not to be hurried," he drawled, purposely tormenting her.
She bit her lip and looked away in frustration. Tom was a good friend and fellow investigator at Earth and Sea Resources. He was also a trained paleontologist, and he loved nothing better than a good fossil find.
He raised the hand lens methodically to his eye again, and carefully examined another of the fragments Thawn had spilled before him from her sample bag. She made a face at the side of his woolly head, then sat down as quietly as she could, her tapping foot the only sign of her impatience.
Tom was as big and burly as a bear, with the temper of a grizzly and the cuddly qualities of a teddy. Thawn felt affection for him but no hint of physical attraction. They had dated a few times when she'd first moved to the area, and he had made several attempts to establish a closer relationship with her, but her calm yet determined refusal had finally convinced him that the most they could be to each other was good friends.
They were sitting now in the living room of Thawn's tiny beach house, under the light that hung over her table. The furnishings of the room were simple: chairs and couch covered with natural linen, a coffee table sliced from natural redwood and set upon driftwood branches; a bookcase covering one wall, holding her stereo and numerous mineral specimens, including one huge quartz crystal that glowed like fire when light hit it. Large, framed Audobon prints hung on the other walls, and plants brightened every comer. Thawn's interest in the natural world was obvious.
Finally Tom leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.
"Well?" she prompted. "What's the verdict?"
A wide grin wrinkled his broad, friendly face. "Ammonites it is. Some pretty good specimens, even if none is whole. Not a bad find for a rank amateur."
"I'm not a rank amateur," she protested, though she knew he was only teasing. "I may not have a master's degree in paleontology, Mr. Expert, but I've had enough geology to qualify as at least a knowledgeable professional."
"Sure you are," he baited her. "Quick, now, this is a quiz. Give me the period and era of the age of the dinosaurs."
"Dinosaurs were Mesozoic era, died out in the late Cretaceous period of that era about sixty three million years ago." She raised her chin in triumph, but he wasn't satisfied.
"Rise of the mammals," he shot back at her.
"Mammals were around in the Mesozoic also, but they really took off in the Cenozoic. Now Tom—"
"When was the first amphibian found?"
"Tom! Ammonites are not amphibians. They aren't dinosaurs or mammals, either. And ammonites are what I want to talk about."
He shrugged his burly shoulders. "There's no point talking about the little devils. You're just going to have to take me to the site where you found them, first thing in the morning." He grinned. "Why don't I spend the night here so we can get an early start?"
She sighed in exasperation. He knew that game had run its course, but he couldn't resist tormenting her with it anyway. "Have you got your sleeping bag with you?" she asked pointedly.
"Sure do. Never go anywhere without it."
Thawn couldn't resist smiling back at his laughing blue eyes. He really was incorrigible.
"Good. Then you can sleep out on my porch. It does get pretty cold out there in the ocean air, but since you've got a down bag..."
He grimaced painfully. "The lady denies me her bed once more," he moaned. "She casts me out into the cold night, denying me the warmth and succor that only she can provide."
'Tom," she said rigidly, forcing herself to keep a straight face, "will you please get back to the point? How much importance should we attach to these ammonites? Will it be enough to stop development?"
Tom stretched slowly. "Can't say at this point," he said casually. "I'll have to take a look at the place myself." He picked up a piece of chalky white shell. "But I've got to admit, ammonite finds are unusual along this part of the coast. And if this one is as rich as you say, I think we've got a protected fossil site on our hands."
She nodded, staring down at the white pile before her. "That's what I th
ought," she said softly. Was that good news or bad? She was fairly certain her discovery was going to affect Rafe Armstrong's intention to build his house by the sea. But try as she would, she couldn't take much joy in the thought.
"Ever heard of Rafe Armstrong?" she asked Tom.
He considered for a moment, then shook his head. "The name sounds slightly familiar, but I can't place it."
She smiled. Tom had no interest at all in movies. His whole life was wrapped up in the environment—how to protect it, how to interpret it. Compared to the wondrous monuments of nature, the things made by humans were so fragile and superficial that he had no time for them.
"Who is he?" Tom asked suddenly, and she looked up, startled out of her reverie.
"A film producer," she said evasively. "It's his land we're talking about."
Tom's gaze sharpened, and he leaned closer to her. "An old friend from Hollywood?" he probed.
"No." Thawn shook her head vehemently. "No, I didn't really know him in Hollywood." Though she rarely blushed, she felt crimson color creeping across her cheeks, branding her with its telltale flag.
She tried to think back over just how much she'd told Tom. He knew about Mark, though not his name. He knew about how she'd thought she loved him, how Mark had disappointed and hurt her. Tom considered it a lesson well learned.
"Stick to nature," he often growled. "The laws are clearly defined, and no one tries to use you."
He was looking at her now in a way that indicated his lack of belief in her disclaimer. She realized with amusement that he thought Rafe was the man who had broken her heart. She should explain that it wasn't so, but she really didn't want to go into it.
"Go home, Tom," she said, looking up with a quick smile. "I'll pick you up in the morning on my way back up the coast."
He didn't move immediately, and she could tell that he wanted to stay. He searched her face, his brow furled with worry. "Is this the guy, Thawn?" he asked quietly.
She forced a bright laugh. "Whatever gave you that idea? Of course not."
He frowned. "If you want me to take over this job for you, I'll fix it up."
