'This is all?' He paused. 'Enright didn't hurt you?'
'I don't want to talk about Lester.'
His gaze searched her expression, and he opened his lips to speak. Then he turned on his heel. 'If that's what you want.' He headed for the entrance to the cave. 'I'll sleep out here. Call me if you need me.'
'I won't need you.'
'I'll still be here to guard you.'
'I don't need that either.'
'I need it.' She could see him dropping down on the rock outside, his back to her. 'I can't tell you how much I need to guard and protect you. No one is going to hurt or take you away again. That's sheer self-preservation. It hurt me too much when I thought I might have lost you.'
Don't answer. Don't be touched. Keep the anger. Keep the distance.
She took off her shoes and climbed into the sleeping bag in front of the fire. She could feel the warmth from the flames stroking her cheeks. How many years had Marrok slept here before a fire with Paco on the other side? Had they talked, joked? She wished she'd known the old man. Because then she might be able to fathom the enigma that was Marrok.
Close your eyes. Sleep. You're not here to solve puzzles about Marrok. You're here to get Danner. You're here to help save the dogs of summer.
BUT SHE COULDN'T GO TO SLEEP. It was hours later, and she was still lying there. Every nerve, every muscle was taut, almost painfully aware of Marrok lying only yards away. She turned over for the hundredth time.
'Are you cold?' Marrok was standing in the opening of the cave. 'Do you want me to put more wood on the fire?'
'No.'
'I didn't think so.' He sank down, sitting tailor fashion near the door. 'I was just using it for an excuse. I don't think either one of us is going to sleep. There's too much left unsaid.'
'I've said all I want to say.'
'Not the words I want to hear. I'm trying to be understanding and sensitive, but it's not working for me.'
'It never did.'
'Enright. I saw your expression. He hurt you, didn't he?'
She stiffened. 'We struggled. Of course, he hurt me.'
'How?' he asked hoarsely.
'It doesn't matter. It's not going to happen again.'
'How?'
'He grabbed me. He was strong. I bruise easily.'
'I don't see any bruises.'
'Leave it alone, Marrok.'
'I can't. I have to see them. Show me.'
'Will you go then?'
He nodded. 'Show me.'
She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped her bra straps down. 'It's over. It doesn't matter.'
'My God.' He was looking at her swollen breast, which was livid with red-and-purple bruises. 'He did that to you?'
'Bruises heal.' She started to pull her bra straps up.
'No.' He was suddenly beside her. 'Not yet.' His head was pressed against her breast. 'I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.' His voice was muffled. 'I'm sorry I let him do that to you.'
'You didn't let Lester do anything. He did it all himself.' She forced herself to keep her arms at her sides and not slide them around him. 'And not for long. Only until I was ready to fight him.'
'You should have told me about him. You should have let me take care of him for you.'
'I told you once before. I take care of my own problems.'
'I can't let you do that. Not anymore.'
'I think you'd better leave now, Marrok.' She kept her voice steady with an effort. 'You've got what you came for.'
'No, I haven't.' He lifted his head. His dark eyes were glittering in his taut face, and his lips were tight with pain. 'I want to look at you for a minute. I want to remember what he did to you.'
'Why on earth?'
'It's important.' He bent his head and his lips gently brushed her breast. His cheek was warm, hard, and faintly rough against her flesh as he rubbed it back and forth. 'Because every now and then it will come back to me and remind me that I have to make sure that nothing like that can ever happen to you again.'
She felt a melting deep inside her. 'Leave, Marrok. You said you'd go.'
He didn't move for a moment, his cheek still pressed against her breast. 'Okay.' He sat back on his heels, pulled her bra straps up, and buttoned her shirt. 'I won't touch you again.' He stood up and went back to his former place near the door. 'I just had to know. It was driving me crazy. Just let me stay for a little while longer.' He leaned back against the rock wall and stared into the fire. 'I've been thinking. I'm angry at Bridget, but I'm the one to blame for all of this.'
'Yes, you are.'
He smiled crookedly. 'I can always count on you for honesty, can't I? But you see, I didn't realize what a bastard I was being. Did I want you to be safe? With all my heart. But there was another reason I asked Bridget to get you away from me.' He paused. 'I told you that I couldn't be as honest with you as you were with me. I had to push you away. You frightened me. I'd never felt like that before. It was like part of me was…' He stopped searching for words. 'Flowing out, and I knew I might never get it back.' He shrugged. 'I'd been alone all my life. That's the way I wanted it. I don't know how to handle feeling like this.'
'No one asked you to handle it,' she said unevenly. 'I told you I didn't intend to back you into a corner.'
'But I have to learn.' His gaze shifted from the fire to her face. 'I have to convince you to stay with me. Because now I know I'm more frightened of having to go on without you.' He rose to his feet. 'That's all. I just had to say it. Go to sleep. I won't bother you anymore tonight.'
He was gone. Devon saw him once more settling outside the cave.
Go to sleep? How was she going to do that when she was aching for him, with him? She was unbearably touched. For God's sake, don't lose your grip because of a few words.
But those words had been spoken with raw simplicity and truth.
And there was the slightest trace of moisture on her breast where his cheek had rested.
Why did that sign of vulnerability shake her to the core? He would never admit to it. She shouldn't let go of anger. He had behaved with his usual arrogance and ignored her in de pen dence and self-will.
Bridget's words came out of nowhere, bringing the same chill as the first time she had heard them.
Death. Life.
My God, cling to anger when there might not be time for anything else? She didn't know if she believed Bridget's prediction, but life was too short to take chances.
A moment later she'd struggled out of the sleeping bag and was out of the cave.
'Marrok, dammit.' She dropped to her knees beside him. 'You were
He sat up, and said soberly, 'I can. One way or another I've been wrong all my life.'
'You can't just shift me around on a whim.'
'It wasn't a whim. It was the farthest thing from a whim that you can imagine.'
'Then it's time you shaped up. I'm not going to have to worry about you doing something like that again.'
He went still. 'Does that mean that I'm going to get the chance to do it?'
'What a way to put it,' she said shakily. 'You step out of line again, and I'll strangle you.'
He reached out, his hands hovering over her shoulders. 'Is touching you out of line?'
'No.' She went into his arms. He felt strong, good, solid, closing out the night. Closing out Bridget's words. 'You do that very well. It's when you start to think that I have problems. You should never have gotten out of bed
