didn’t want to draw attention to them. She knew they only had a few more
minutes of privacy. “I had one tiny episode yesterday, but it was so short it
doesn’t even count.” She glanced at her mother to make sure she wasn’t
listening. “The doctors who did the tests said that the medication should be
enough. I intend to take it, because I don’t have time for any more of this
nonsense.”
“Good.” Dev squeezed Leslie’s hand, and gently released it.
“Aren’t you supposed to quit coffee too?”
Leslie’s face went cold. “Don’t push it, Devon.”
Dev laughed quietly, and Leslie ? nally smiled.
• 171 •
RADCLY fFE
“Is this storm going to ruin the work you were doing on the island?” Leslie
asked, because she wanted to change the subject and also because she cared.
She knew how important Dev’s work was to her.
“I got just about everything I need.”
“I’m glad.”
“Here you go,” Eileen said, setting a plate of buttermilk biscuits in the center of
the island.
Natalie grabbed one and leaned against the counter next to Dev.
“How are you doing?”
“Better,” Dev said.
“You three help yourselves to anything else you need,” Eileen said. “I’m going to
check on Paul and make sure the guests are taken care of.” She rested her hand
on Leslie’s shoulder. “I almost forgot.
Your friend Rachel from New York called here when she didn’t get an answer
on your cell.”
Leslie grew still. Dev stiffened beside her, and Natalie’s face took on an
interested expression. “Okay. Thanks.”
“She sounded worried when I told her about the storm, so you should probably
call her pretty soon.”
“I will, Mom,” Leslie said tightly.
“Do you need her number? She left her cell and her—”
“I have them.”
Eileen hesitated, then dropped her hand from Leslie’s shoulder.
“Natalie, you be careful out there today.”
“I will. Thanks.” Natalie waited until Eileen left the room, then asked
nonchalantly, “Girlfriend?”
Leslie gave Natalie a long, appraising look. The question could be passed off as
casual conversation, but she knew it wasn’t. “Something like that.” She rose,
walked to the sink, and poured the last of her coffee down the drain. Then she
looked at Dev. “Are you going to be okay getting down to your cabin?”
“I’ll walk her down,” Natalie said, “when she’s done with her coffee.”
“Fine. Thanks for the ride home,” Leslie said tersely. She left them there,
grabbed her rain jacket, and strode out into the downpour, oblivious to the
discomfort as she stalked through the woods. Four more days and this entire
surreal interlude would all be behind her.
• 172 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
When she reached her cabin she headed directly to her bathroom, pulling off her
rain jacket and dropping it over the back of a wooden chair as she went. She
closed the door, turned on the hot water in the shower, and began to remove
her clothes. Dev’s clothes, she thought as she bent to unlace Dev’s boots.
Dev’s shirt, Dev’s pants, Dev’s hands—her kisses, her mouth, God, oh God,
her mouth. How good Dev’s mouth had felt skimming down her stomach.
Closing her eyes, Leslie leaned back against the counter, slipping her hand inside
Dev’s jeans. Her skin was cold, but she was hot between her legs. And wet.
And oh so hard and aching. With a soft moan she stroked the ache, but it only
grew more ? erce. She pressed harder, willing the wanting away, and groaned
at the pleasure. Her legs shook and she gripped the counter with her free arm,
her hand circling faster beneath the soaked denim.
Oh God, it felt so good and she wanted it to stop. She didn’t want this, this
terrible longing.
“Oh please,” she gasped, her head falling back, orgasm shimmering through her.
She couldn’t want this. She couldn’t. Her will snapped as her climax surged
and she cried out softly, bending nearly double with the pleasure. “Yes. Oh
yes.”
When the wracking tremors subsided enough for her to straighten, Leslie turned
unsteadily and braced her arms on the counter, panting.
While the last tendrils of orgasm washed through her, she stared at her re?
ection in the mirror, shocked by the sated expression in her bruised eyes and ?
ushed face. Oh God, who are you?
v
After her shower, Leslie fell naked into bed and slept for nine hours.
When she woke a little before seven in the evening, she felt hollowed out, far
emptier than mere hunger could account for. She ignored the feeling as she
reached for her phone and pressed the familiar number on speed dial without
even looking.
“This is Rachel Hawthorne. I’m not available right now, so please leave—”
Leslie cut the connection and stared at the ceiling. She wondered how Dev was
doing, if her leg was better, if she was going to be able to make it up to the
lodge for dinner. Maybe she should go up, ? x her a plate, and take it down to
her cabin.
• 173 •
RADCLY fFE
“What am I doing?” Leslie muttered, throwing back the sheets in disgust. She
ran her hands through her hair. “Losing my mind. That’s what I’m doing.”
The phone vibrated and she snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Hello, darling. I’m in the car.”
Leslie felt a quick rush of relief. This was normal. With Rachel, she knew exactly
who she was. “Hi. I heard you called. Sorry I missed you. How are you?”
“Fine. Busy. Your mother said there was a storm.”
Leslie laughed. “You could say that.”
“Listen, darling, I’m on my way to a client dinner, but I’ve got good news.”
“So do I. I’ll be ho—”
“I freed up my schedule and I’m ? ying up for the Fourth. I’m afraid overnight is
all I can manage.”
Leslie’s stomach clenched. “That’s not necessary, Rach, really. I know how
busy you are, and I’ll—”
