“Did you have a good time?” She called out loud enough that Lev couldn’t fail to realize it was, in fact, her sister and he could just put away his gun.
“I was worried about you. I tried to call you on your cell several times. And I left four messages on your machine.” Blythe closed her door and came up the stairs. She reached for Rikki and hugged her.
Rikki tried to hug her back. She didn’t mind Blythe touching her, but she always felt awkward, unsure what to do in return, so she usually stood and waited for it to be over, feeling foolish. She recognized Blythe was distressed.
“I’m sorry. I never think to check my messages and I don’t have a clue where that cell phone is.” She looked around as if she might find it in the flower bed.
Blythe came all the way onto the porch and dropped into her favorite chair. “There was a huge wave, Rikki, it came out of nowhere. The Drakes stopped it, but I was afraid you were caught out at sea when it came.”
“I was. It knocked me off my boat,” Rikki admitted. She kept her body between Blythe and the door at all times, standing upright and making certain Lev didn’t have a shot if he felt so inclined. She wasn’t about to place Blythe in danger.
Blythe paled, her soft brown eyes going wide as she searched Rikki for damage. Rikki couldn’t stop her hand from drifting up to her neck to cover the smudges there. “I was just about to go down for another load when it struck, so I had my gear on. No big deal.”
“Of course it was a big deal. Tell me what happened.”
Rikki shrugged. “I was thrown from the boat and went down about thirty feet. I just shoved my regulator in my mouth and I was fine.”
Blythe shook her head. “Honey, you can’t keep diving alone. You need a tender.”
“If I’d had a tender in the boat, they wouldn’t have had on a suit or a tank, and they would have been in the water right along with me. Instead of my own survival, I would have had to think of someone else. I don’t have to worry about anyone else when I’m out there. If something happens, I depend on myself. Tell me about the wedding,” she added to change the subject.
Blythe smiled immediately. “It was so beautiful. All of them ended up getting married. Jonas and Hannah had to stand up for all of them. Elle and Jackson were taking off for their honeymoon. I think they’re traveling through Europe. I think everyone left for a honeymoon with the exception of Jonas and Hannah because they’d already had theirs.”
Rikki frowned a little at the mention of Jonas and Hannah. Jonas Harrington was the local sheriff and he always made her uneasy. She’d caught him eyeing her a few times, and she had the feeling he’d delved into her past and was watching her in case there was a local fire. Maybe she was just paranoid, but she stayed as far from him and his deputies as possible.
“Any other news?” she prompted.
“I think Joley might be pregnant,” Blythe said, “but that’s just a guess.”
That wasn’t exactly the news Rikki was looking for. “Did you all have fun?”
Blythe nodded. “Everyone asked where you were. Lexi danced up a storm. That girl is amazing on the dance floor. I wish I could learn her moves.” She laughed softly, her eyes bright with pride. “She and Lissa were very popular tonight. Everyone wanted to dance with them.”
Rikki smiled. Lissa and Lexi tended to be the center of attention wherever they were. No one could help but look at them. She was as proud of them as Blythe was.
“You look tired, Rikki,” Blythe said. “You should be in bed.”
Rikki shrugged. “I always worry until everyone is safe at home.” It was a grudging concession to admit it, but then with Blythe she was often more forthcoming than with anyone else. There was something motherly about Blythe—and Rikki had forgotten what that was like. Blythe could wrench emotion out of her when no one else could.
Blythe gave her a smile that started a faint glow inside of Rikki. “I know you do. The others carpooled. They’re already in their homes and are safe. Get some sleep.”
Rikki had no idea how she was going to do that, but she managed a nonchalant shrug and waved as Blythe headed back to her car. Rikki waited until the car was safely away before going back inside. The lights were out, but when she glanced at the chair where she’d placed Lev, she could see it was empty. Startled, she looked around the room, her heart pounding.
He was lying facedown on the floor, at an angle where he would have been able to get past her with a shot at Blythe while she was sitting in her chair. Gritting her teeth together she slammed the door closed and locked it before stalking across the room to toe him in the ribs.
“You are really annoying. I mean
really
.”
“I told you exactly what to do and you didn’t listen,” he snapped back, his tone impatient. “I hurt like hell thanks to your inability to pay attention.”
Her breath hissed out as anger mixed with adrenaline poured through her. “I paid attention, you cretin. I don’t take orders from you or anyone else. It didn’t occur to me that you’d be so determined to shoot someone that you’d take the chance of hurting yourself further. I swear, if you do one more thing to piss me off tonight, I’m going to put your sorry ass back in my truck, drive you to the cliffs and toss you over. Now get up.”
He stared up at her for a long time. Her eyes were hot, his ice-cold. They looked at one another for an eternity, Rikki trying to sustain her anger, which was usually easy enough to do. She was either happy or sad or angry—there was never an in between for her. Right now she was confused. He was just such a strong man, tough as nails. Obviously hurting, sprawled out on the blanket, naked, with his gun in his hand. He hadn’t turned the weapon toward her, even though she was threatening him. And he’d thrown the blanket on the floor instead of wrapping himself in it to stay warm.
Her heart jumped. Even in his weakened state, he’d seen
her.
He’d seen her need to have everything in her house a certain way. Lying naked on the floor was
not
okay. Well . . . maybe she could make an exception in his case. She studied his body. Perfectly symmetrical. Every muscle was defined. Chiseled. Like a sculpture. His skin flowed over the framework of his bones and muscles. Large bones, dense and strong. He looked a little like the pictures she’d seen of the early Olympians, warriors every one of them, fighters in a time when it was necessary. She watched the way his muscles moved beneath his skin as he shifted position, the art of the motion and the fluid grace fascinating her.
“Rikki.”
His voice startled her. She’d been so caught up in the flow of muscle beneath skin, she’d forgotten what she was doing. What had she been doing? She blinked at him, bringing him back in focus.
“While I appreciate the fact that you like my body, I could use a little help getting up.”
“What?” Even to her own ears she sounded confused.
His voice gentled. Turned soft, almost seductive. “Come here.”
She felt her body’s instant response to his tone, almost as if he hypnotized her. She’d actually stepped forward without thought—without consent—a wholly natural response to his summons. She frowned at him. “Who are you?”
“I wish I could tell you. Whatever I am, Rikki,
whoever
I am, it isn’t a good thing.”
She slipped her arm around his back and used her leg muscles, honed by fighting the currents beneath the ocean as they shoved her back and forth, to help him to his feet. “Maybe. And maybe you would have shot me just now if you’re all that bad. Give yourself a break and just get in bed and go to sleep. We can sort all this out in the morning.”
He seemed heavier this time, and a small bit of blood trickled down the side of his head. She bit her lip. She shouldn’t have listened to him. She should have overcome her own aversion to the hospital and just taken him.
“The bathroom. All that water you keep shoving down me is beginning to be felt.”
She hesitated, nearly panicking.
Her
bathroom was only a few steps away, while the guest bathroom was at the other end of the house. Her things. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. He was invading—
everywhere.
“Rikki, it’s okay if you want me to use the other bathroom. I can make it.”
Again his voice stroked over her with gentleness. It made her feel small and silly to have to have everything her way. It wasn’t like she had an obsession with germs—it was that everything had to be a certain way.
“That’s ridiculous, we’re right here.” She forced herself to help him through the door.
Once outside of the bathroom, she leaned against the wall with her heart pounding and every muscle tight and protesting. For a moment there was chaos in her brain. What if he touched her things? Messed up her towels? Moved her soap dispenser? She could feel her pulse pounding. Little things could make her explode with anger. She’d worked on it, did breathing exercises, but still, when people messed with her things . . .
And what if that was the kind of thing that triggered her mind to set fires in her sleep? She was distressed, over-tired and
someone was in her house.
She put her head between her knees, feeling sick. She knew better than to trust herself. And if a maniac was out there, destroying homes because she was in them, she’d just placed Lev’s life in danger.
What’s wrong? I can feel your distress. It’s pouring off you in waves.
She stiffened, slowly straightening, looking around her. It was his voice again, distinctly his voice. And he knew she was upset.
Don’t talk to me in my head.
Deliberately she thought the words rather than saying them aloud, uncertain of what to expect. Could they really talk to one another telepathically? It was long suspected in Sea Haven that the Drakes could talk to one another, but she’d never had a single telepathic experience—until she’d encountered Lev.
The door opened and he hung on to it, his blue eyes drifting over her, searching her expression, her eyes. “Are you okay? I know this is difficult for you.”
He was the one who was injured. She frowned again and wrapped her arm around him. “You washed your hands, didn’t you?”
His smile fascinated her. “Yes, ma’am. I’m all about cleanliness.”
He was teasing her. She’d never been good at the concept, although living around the other women the past four years had helped her. Lexi was a terrible tease, and as young as she’d been, with the horrific background she’d had, they all had protected her as much as possible. If teasing was how she needed to cope with stress, then even Rikki was willing to learn to deal with it for her. Rikki didn’t dare look up at his face as she took him on through to the bedroom. She was getting used to that face, the angles and planes, the shadows and scars. His face appealed to her in the same way his body did. She was afraid once she focused on it, she’d be captured and would reveal the strangeness of her mind to him.
She tucked the blankets around him. “You need to go to sleep, Lev. It’s very late.”
“I can’t.”
She met his eyes, and her stomach took a plunge, as if she’d dropped into a deep blue sea. He was looking up at her. He was a tough, scarred man, a warrior with a million weapons. His eyes were flat and cold, yet she could see his confusion, his vulnerability. She realized exactly why she’d brought him home—why she’d taken such a chance—what she saw in him.
Herself.
She was looking at a man who was utterly, absolutely alone. He was confused and had no idea what or who he was. Something shifted inside of her. Softened.
Blythe had found Rikki when she was exactly the same way. She’d been completely alone and so confused about herself. She still didn’t know if she caused fires, or if she’d been responsible for the deaths of her parents and the loss of three homes. She had no idea if she’d killed the only man she’d ever loved. For all she knew she was a murderess. She was terrified to trust herself, let alone anyone else. Just as this man was.
She actually felt connected to him in some way she couldn’t break. She couldn’t abandon him. Maybe it was payment for what Blythe and the others had done for her. All she knew was—there was no way to walk away from him. She acknowledged the danger. He very likely could be just what he appeared, a killer of some kind, but somehow that didn’t seem right to her.
He’d done two things that stuck out in her mind that were a bit contrary to his being completely evil. He hadn’t killed her when he obviously had the opportunity, and he’d dragged himself from a kitchen chair to the floor, causing himself a great deal of pain, in order to protect her from an unknown threat. He’d observed that she was worried about intruders, and he’d risked further injury and certainly a great deal more pain in order to protect her. He could have protected himself from the bed. No one,
no one
, had ever done that for her before.
“You don’t have to worry,” she reassured him, looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll watch over you. If anything suspicious happens, I’ll wake you up. Just go to sleep now.”
“You’re asking me to trust you.”
She couldn’t help herself. There was one unruly strand of hair that spilled into the middle of his forehead. She brushed it back with gentle fingers. “I trusted you, bringing you home, going down for the uni and leaving you alone in my boat. I left the keys in my truck. I know you noticed them. I gave you back your weapons.”