SA 02 - Forget Me Not - Elizabeth Lowell by Elizabeth Lowell

Author:Elizabeth Lowell
Language: bg
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-05-07T19:51:48+00:00

11

E VEN AS ALANA tried to wrench free of his embrace, Rafe realized what had happened. Cursing himself, he released her completely.

“I’m sorry.”

They both spoke quickly, as one, identical words and emotions.

“It’s not your fault.”

Again their words tangled, each hurrying to reassure the other.

When Alana would have spoken again, Rafe gently put his fingers across her mouth. -

“No,” he said in a husky voice. “It’s not your fault. I should have known better than to hold you. I thought I could trust myself. But I’d forgotten how sweet and wild you are. Even in my deepest dreams, I’d forgotten.”

Alana’s black lashes closed. She tilted her face down so that Rafe couldn’t see her expression until she was more certain of her self-control. When she looked at him again, there was no fear in the dark clarity of her eyes, only apology and the luminous residue of passion.

“Did you really dream of me, Rafael?” Alana asked, music and emotion making her voice as beautiful as her eyes.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “It was all that kept me sane in hell.”

Alana’s breath caught at the honesty and pain in Rafe’s voice. Her eyes searched his expression.

“What happened?” she asked.

Rafe hesitated. “It’s not a pretty story. I’m not sure it’s something you want to know.”

“If you can stand to tell me, I can stand to hear it.”

When Rafe still hesitated, Alana took his hand and started back along the lakeshore, leading him with a gentle pressure of her fingers.

“Never mind,” she said. “We’ll eat lunch and then we’ll lie in the sun and count aspen leaves. Remember?”

The darkness left Rafe’s eyes. His lips curved into an off-center smile.

“I remember,” he said. “The first one who blinks has to start all over again.”

“After paying a forfeit.”

“Of course,” Rafe said in a husky voice. “I remember that part very well.”

A sideways look into his brilliant whiskey eyes told Alana that Rafe indeed hadn’t forgotten. Her fingers tightened in his as he brought her hand up to his lips. He rubbed his mustache teasingly over her sensitive fingertips. Then he nibbled on the soft pad of flesh at the base of her thumb.

“What’s that for?” asked Alana breathlessly. “I blinked,” admitted Rafe. “Didn’t you see me?”

“No. I must have blinked, too.”

“That’s one you owe me.”

“But we haven’t started counting aspen leaves yet,” Alana pointed out.

“Well, if you’re going to get all technical on me, I guess I won’t start keeping score until after lunch.”

Smiling, Alana led Rafe to the hollow where they had left their backpacks. While he retrieved the fishing gear he had abandoned when he heard her scream, Alana set out a lunch of sandwiches and fruit.

They ate slowly, letting the sun and silence dissolve away the last residue of fear and nightmare. When Rafe was finished, he stretched out on his back with his hands linked behind his head.

After a few moments he said lazily, “Twenty-three.”

“What?”

“I counted twenty-three aspen leaves before I blinked.”

“You can’t even see any aspens from where you are.”

“Sure I can,” Rafe said, his voice deep.

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