This Side of Heaven

romantic.'

'Come on, Persephone. Go with me into the darkness.' He held out his hand.

Cyn felt the instant chill, the shuddering anxiety that claimed her. His words held a meaning he had not in­ tended. She reached out and took his hand, knowing that she would follow this man anywhere, even into the jaws of death—and beyond, to the depths of Hades or through the gates of heaven.

Twilight shadows fell across the earth while the fading colors of dusk painted the sky with muted tones of pink and lavender. A gentle evening breeze murmured through the trees and bushes, its cool breath caressing Cyn and Nate the moment they stepped outside.

'Is there no entrance to the mission inside the house?' Cyn asked when they stood in front of the arched doorway.

'I think there used to be, but someone plastered over it years ago. Probably long before your Miss Carstairs lived here.'

Nate shoved the heavy door open, standing aside to al­low Cyn to enter first. Even though he didn't believe in an­cient legends and certainly not in ghosts, Nate felt the same curiosity here that he'd felt the first time he'd come to these rooms with Cyn. He couldn't quite pinpoint the source of his uncertainty, but he knew there was something here waiting for him, something he wasn't yet ready to accept.

Cyn stepped inside and stopped abruptly, hesitating until her eyesight adjusted to the darkness. Faint evening light seeped through the boarded windows and crept in from the open doorway. Slowly, cautious in her movements, Cyn walked inside, glancing around, searching for something, for anything, that could explain why this place drew her like a magnet. She'd felt it the time before when she'd come here with Nate.

She wasn't sure how she knew, she simply knew that once, long ago, something wonderful had happened here and something horrible. She trembled.

'Are you cold?' Nate asked.

'Don't you feel it?' she asked. 'The joy. The pain.'

Damn this place to hell and damn his crazy imagination. She'd asked if he felt it. Yes, hell, yes, he could feel it, but he didn't want to. 'This is a damp, dark, musty old build­ing. You're letting that stupid legend make you imagine things.'

She moved around the room, quickly, almost frantically, her breath coming in quick, ragged spurts. 'They were married here, you know. The priest married them.'

What was wrong with her? Nate wondered. She was star­ing at the back wall as if she saw more than moss-coated shell rock partially obscured by a stack of battered furni­ture and decaying cardboard boxes. He reached out, grab­bing her by the wrist. 'Come on, Cyn, let's get out of here. Let's go for a walk along the beach.'

'They died here,' she cried. 'He killed them both in this very room and dragged their bodies out onto the beach.' Cyn fell against the wall, her hot, flushed face seeking comfort on the cool stone surface.

Just as her knees buckled and she began to sway, Nate caught her up in his arms and rushed outside. Deeply in­haling the clean evening air, he felt his chest rising and fall­ing with the heaviness of his breathing. The moment she'd said they died here, he'd known the ancient lovers had been killed in the mission— the Timucuan maiden and her Span­ish conquistador. But the images that had flashed through his mind had not been of long-dead lovers, but of Cyn and himself. And Ryker.

'Oh, Nate, you felt it, too, didn't you?' She clung to him, her slender arms draped around his neck, her fingers threaded through his hair.

'Cyn, don't do this to yourself.' He carried her across the road and onto the beach.

'Are you saying you didn't feel them, feel their joy, share their pain?' she asked as he lowered her to her feet, allow­ing her body to slide down his slowly, sensuously.

'I'm saying that we both can't let our imaginations run wild.' He wanted her. Now. His body was hard, pulsating, throbbing with desire. How could he answer her, how could he admit that even now, the passion flowing through his veins like an untamed river was more than one man's pas­sion? How could he tell her, without sounding insane, that he wanted to make love to her again, to find the fulfillment he had feund only in her body, to come home to her arms and find the sanctuary his soul had sought for so long?

'It's as if we've been together before,' she whispered, clinging to him, her lips pressed against his chest where she was unbuttoning his shirt. 'Oh, Nate, I'm scared.'

'It's all right, Cyn. I'll never let anything or anyone hurt you.' Tonight is all you'll have with her, he told himself. Take her, only if you're sure you can let her go afterward.

'It's not just the legend. There's more.' She breathed in the deeply masculine smell of the big man holding her so protectively in his arms. 'I'm not afraid for them. They died hundreds of years ago.'

'Don't think about it, Brown Eyes.' He lowered his mouth, brushing the top of her head with tender kisses.

'It's us. You and me and the mission. And this beach. Oh, Nate, tell me what kind of trouble you're in. You need me. I can help you.'

He took her mouth with the savagery of a man pushed beyond the limits of his control. Holding her close, Nate conquered her lips with unrelenting pressure, impaling her soft moistness with his tongue. Without really knowing anything, she already knew too much. She had sensed the truth as surely as he had. If he couldn't find a way to pre­vent it, Ryker would kill them both inside the old mission and drag their bodies onto the beach... the way the ancient conquistador's enemy had done.

Was that how the ancient legend's prophecy would be fulfilled? he wondered, his heart aching with some un­known emotion, his body suffering the tortures of the damned. His need for this woman went beyond any normal desire he'd ever felt, and he seemed powerless to stop him­self from devouring her whole.

She moaned as her body quivered with response, push­ing, clawing, straining for closer contact. How could she endure much more? she asked herself. Never had such overwhelming desire consumed her. If she didn't mate with this man soon, she would die from the insatiable hunger.

They drank the sweetness of each other's lips, their tongues dipping, licking, thrusting in a parody of a more intimate act. He moved his hands over her in a frenzied ex­ploration, savoring each new curve, and yet remembering the feel of her as if he'd touched her a hundred times. She clung to him, her fingers in his hair, her nails scratching at his neck, his back, his shoulders.

Together they sank to the ground, their knees cradled in the gritty sand. He yanked open her blouse, popping the buttons in his haste. Lowering his head, he took one tight nipple into his mouth, sucking her through the sheer yellow lace of her bra. She arched her back and moaned from the sweet ecstasy that was building between her thighs.

Still kissing her, Nate shoved her onto the ground, strad­dling her, looking down at her, dying with the need to be inside her.

Cyn felt lost in a world of dreams, so often had she seen those moss-green eyes staring down at her, felt the throb­bing pressure of this special man needing to mate with her and her alone. But this was no dream, this was reality and he had promised her tonight, only tonight. No matter how precious this one night could be, would it be enough? Could she give herself to him and walk away as if nothing had happened? Could he?

'Nate,' she whispered, her hands braced against his chest. She could feel the strong, powerful thud of his heart under her fingers.

'I want you,' he said, his voice ragged with desire.

'Only for tonight?' she asked, unsure where she'd gained the strength to question their future.

Stunned by her inquiry in the midst of their lovemaking, Nate hesitated. Still straddling her, he gazed down into her warm brown eyes. 'I'll want you forever,' he told her truthfully. 'But all we'll ever have is tonight. There's no future for us.'

How could he tell her that soon, very soon, he would fight the last battle of his life with an opponent as skilled and deadly as he himself was? If he allowed her to stay with him, to become a part of him, then she would die as surely as she had in his dreams.

'I want you, Nate. I... I love you.' She saw the fires ig­nite and burn in his eyes when she told him that she loved him. 'But I want more. I want you to trust me enough to share your problems with me. I want you to let me help you.'

Nate jumped up, grabbed her hands and jerked her up beside him. He reached out, taking her by the back of