by Nora Roberts
She was still pale, he noted. Though the hands on the glass were steady now, they were still white at the knuckles. Her eyes were wide and shocked, suddenly too big for the rest of her face. He started to stroke her hair, then stuck his own hands in his pockets. “A natural enough reaction.”
“I guess.” She looked up and managed a shaky smile. She was cold, but prayed she wouldn’t begin to shiver in front of him. “I’ve never found myself in that sort of … situation before.”
Cliff lifted a brow. “Neither have I.”
“No?” Somehow she’d wanted to think it had happened before. If it had, it might make it less horrible—and less personal. She looked down at the floor, not realizing until that moment that the dog lay across her feet, whimpering. “But don’t you dig up a lot of—” She hesitated, not sure just how she wanted to phrase it. “Things,” Maggie decided weakly, “in your line of work?”
She was reaching, Cliff thought, and whether she knew it or not, those big brown eyes were pleading with him for some sort of easy explanation. He didn’t have one to give her. “Not that kind of thing.”
Their gazes held for one long, silent moment before Maggie nodded. If there was one thing she’d learned in the hard, competitive business she’d chosen, it was to handle things as they came. “So, neither of us has a tidy explanation.” The little expulsion of breath was the last sign of weakness she intended to show him. “I guess the next step is the police.”
“Yeah.” The more determined she became to be calm, the more difficult it became for him. She was weakening something in him that he was determined to keep objective. His hands were balled into fists inside his pockets in his struggle not to touch her. Distance was the quickest defense. “You’d better call,” Cliff said briskly. “I’ll go out and make sure the crew keeps clear of the gully.”
Again, her answer was a nod. Maggie watched as he crossed to the screen door and pushed it open. There he hesitated. He’d have cursed if he’d understood what it was he wanted to swear at. When he looked back, she saw the concern on his face she’d seen when he’d spoken to Joyce. “Maggie, are you all right?”
The question, and the tone, helped her to settle. Perhaps it had something to do with her knowing just what it was like to be pressured by another’s weakness. “I will be. Thanks.” She waited until the screen door banged shut behind him before she dropped her head on the table.
Good heavens, what had she walked into here? People didn’t find bodies in their front yard. C.J. would’ve said it was totally uncivilized. Maggie choked back a hysterical giggle and straightened. The one unarguable fact she had to face was that she had found one. Now she had to deal with it. Taking deep breaths, she went to the phone and dialed the operator.
“Get me the police,” she said quickly.
A few minutes later, Maggie went outside. Though she’d hoped the practical routine of reporting what she’d found would calm her, it hadn’t worked. She didn’t go near the gully, but she found she couldn’t sit inside, waiting alone. Circling around the front of the house, she found a convenient rock and sat. The puppy stretched out in the patch of sunlight at her feet and went to sleep.
She could almost believe she’d imagined what she’d seen in that pile of dirt and rock. It was too peaceful here for anything so stark. The air was too soft, the sun too warm. Her land might be unruly, but it held a serenity that blocked out the harsher aspects of life.
Was that why she’d chosen it, Maggie wondered. Because she wanted to pretend there wasn’t any real madness in the world? Here she could cocoon herself from so many of the pressures and demands that had threaded through her life for so long. Was this spot the home she’d always wanted, or was it in reality just an escape for her? She squeezed her eyes shut. If that were true, it made her weak and dishonest, two things she couldn’t tolerate. Why had it taken this incident to make her question what she hadn’t questioned before? As she tried to find her tranquillity again, a shadow fell over her. Opening her eyes, Maggie looked up at Cliff.
For some reason it toughened her. She wouldn’t admit to him that she’d begun to doubt herself or her motives. No, not to him.
“Someone should be here soon.” She linked her folded hands over one knee and looked back into the woods.
“Good.” Several minutes passed while they both remained silent, looking into the trees.
Eventually, Cliff crouched down beside her. Funny, but he thought that she looked more apt to fall apart now than she had when he’d carried her into her kitchen. Reaction, he decided, had different speeds for different people. He wanted to hold her again, hard and close, as he’d done all too briefly before. The contact had made something strong and sultry move through him. Like her music—something like her music.
He wished like hell he’d turned down the job and had walked away the first time he’d seen her. Cliff looked past her to the slope that led to the gully.
“You talked to Stan?”
“Stan?” Blankly, Maggie stared at Cliff’s set profile. At that moment, he was close enough to reach but seemed miles away. “Oh, the sheriff.” She wished he’d touch her, just for a moment. Just a hand on her. “No, I didn’t call him. I called the operator and asked for the police. She connected me with the state police in Hagerstown.” She lapsed into silence, waiting for him to make some comment on her typical city response.
“Probably for the best,” Cliff murmured. “I let the crew go. It’ll be less confusing.”
“Oh.” She must’ve been in a daze not to notice that the trucks and men were gone. When she forced herself to look, she saw that the backhoe remained, sitting on the rise above the gully, big and yellow and silent. The sun was warm on her back. Her skin was like ice. Time to snap out of it, Maggie told herself, and straightened her shoulders. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. Should I call your office when the police say it’s all right to start work again?” Her voice was businesslike. Her throat was dry with the thought of being left alone, completely alone, with what was down by the gully.
Cliff turned his head. Without speaking, he took off his sunglasses so that their eyes met. “Thought I’d hang around.”
Relief washed over her. Maggie knew it must’ve shown in her face, but she didn’t have the will to put pride first. “I’d like you to. It’s stupid, but—” She glanced over in the direction of the gully.
“Not stupid.”
“Maybe weak’s a better word,” she mumbled, trying to smile.
“Human.” Despite his determination not to, Cliff reached out and took her hand. The touch, one designed to comfort, to reassure her, set off a chain reaction of emotion too swift to stop.
It ran through her head that she should rise swiftly and go inside. He might stop her, or he might let her go. Maggie didn’t ask herself which she wanted, nor did she move. Instead, she sat where she was, meeting his gaze and letting the sensation of torrid, liquid heat flow through her. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.
She felt each of his fingers tense individually on her hand. There was a sense of power there; whether it was his or hers, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was the melding of both. She saw his eyes darken until the irises were only shades lighter than the pupils. It was as if he were looking through her, into her chaotic thoughts. In the quiet of midafternoon, she heard each breath he drew in and expelled. The sound stirred the excitement that vibrated in the air between them.
Together they moved toward each other until mouth molded itself to mouth.
Intensity. She hadn’t known anything between two people could be so concentrated, such pure sensation. She understood that if years passed, if she was blind and deaf, she would know this man just by the touch of his lips. In one instant she became intimate with the shape of his mouth, the taste and texture of his tongue. Her mouth was on his, his hand on hers, and they touched nowhere else. In that moment there was no need to.
There was an aggressiveness, even a harshness, to the kiss that Maggie hadn’t expe
cted. It held none of the sweetness, the hesitation, that first kisses often do, yet she didn’t back away from it. Perhaps it was all part of the attraction that had begun the moment he’d stepped from the truck. Different, yes, he was different from the other men who’d touched her life—different still from the man she’d shared her body with. She’d known that from the first encounter. Now, with his mouth stirring her senses, she found herself grateful for it. She wanted nothing to be the same as it had been, no reminders of what she’d had once and lost. This man wouldn’t pamper or worship. He was strong enough to want strength in return. She felt his tongue tangle with hers, probing deeper. Maggie reveled in the demands.
It was easy, almost too easy, to forget her delicate build, her fragile looks, when her mouth was so ardent on his. He should’ve known there’d be deep, restless passion in a woman who created music with such sexuality. But how could he have known that passion would call to him as though he’d been waiting for years?
It was much too easy to forget she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted in his life when her taste was filling him. Again, he should have known she’d have the power to make a man toss aside all logic, all intellect. Her lips were warm, moist, the taste as pungent as the scent of newly turned earth around them. The urge rose to take her in his arms and fulfill, there under the clear afternoon sun, all the needs that welled inside him. Cliff drew back, resisting that final painful twist of desire.
Breathless, throbbing, Maggie stared at him. Could that one searing meeting of lips have moved him as it had moved her? Were his thoughts swimming as hers were? Was his body pulsing with wild, urgent needs? She could tell nothing from his face. Though his eyes were fixed on hers, their expression was unreadable. If she asked, would he tell her that he, too, had never known a wave of passion so overwhelming or so mesmerizing? She would ask, and would know, as soon as she had the voice to question. As she sat, struggling to catch her breath, the events of the day came flashing back into her mind. Abruptly, Maggie sprang to her feet.
“God, what are we doing?” she demanded. With a hand that shook, she pushed the hair away from her face. “How can we at here like this when that—that thing’s only a few yards away?”
Cliff took her arm, turning her back to face him. “What does one have to do with the other?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.” With her insides churning, she looked up at him. Her emotions had always been too dominant. Though she knew it, Maggie had never been able to change it. It had been years since she’d really tried. Confusion, distress, passion, radiated from her as tangible things. “What we found, it’s dreadful, unbelievably dreadful, and a few moments ago I was sitting there wondering what it would be like to make love with you.”
Something flashed in his eyes, quickly controlled. Unlike Maggie, Cliff had learned long ago to channel his emotions and keep them to himself. “You obviously don’t believe in evading the issue.”
“Evasions take too much time and effort.” After letting out a long breath, Maggie managed to match his even, casual tone. “Listen, I didn’t expect that sort of—eruption,” she decided. “I suppose I’m wound up over all of this, and a bit too susceptible.”
“Susceptible.” Her choice of words made him smile. Somehow, when she became cool and calm, he became tempted to prod. Deliberately, he lifted a hand and ran his fingertips down her cheek. Her skin was still warm with desire. “I wouldn’t have described you that way. You seem to be a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it.”
If he’d wanted to fire her up, he’d found the perfect key. “Stop it.” In one sharp move, she pushed his hand from her face. “I’ve said it before—you don’t know me. Every time we’re together, I become more certain that I don’t want you to. You’re a very attractive man, Cliff. And very unlikable. I stay away from people I don’t like.”
It occurred to him that he’d never gone out of his way to argue with anyone before. A lot of things were changing. “In a small community like this, it’s hard to stay away from anyone.”
“I’ll put more effort into it.”
“Nearly impossible.”
She narrowed her eyes and fought to keep her lips from curving. “I’m very good when I put my mind to something.”
“Yeah.” He put his sunglasses back on. When he grinned, the deliberate cockiness was almost too appealing to resist. “I bet you are.”
“Are you trying to be smart, or are you trying to be charming?”
“I never had to try to be either one.”
“Think again.” Because she was having trouble controlling the grin, Maggie turned away. As luck would have it, she found herself staring out over the gully. A chill raced up her spine. Swearing, she folded her arms under her breasts. “I can’t believe it,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I’m standing here having a ridiculous conversation when there’s a—” She found she couldn’t say it and detested herself. “I think the whole world must be going mad.”
He wasn’t going to let her get shaky on him again. When she was vulnerable, she was much more dangerous. “What’s down there’s been there for a long time.” His voice was brisk, almost hard. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“It’s my land,” Maggie tossed back. She whirled around, eyes glowing, chin angled. “So it has everything to do with me.”
“Then you better stop shaking every time you think about it.”
“I’m shaking.”
Without a word, he drew her hand away from her elbow so they could both see the tremor. Furious, Maggie snatched it away again. “When I want you to touch me, I’ll let you know,” she said between her teeth.
“You already have.”
Before she could think of an appropriate response, the dog scrambled up and began to bark furiously. Seconds later, they both heard the sound of an approaching car.
“He might make you a decent watchdog, after all,” Cliff said mildly. The pup bounded around in circles like a mad thing, then hid behind the rock. “Then again …”
As the official car came into sight, he bent down to pat the dog on the head before he walked toward the end of the drive. Maggie hurried to keep pace. Her land, her problem, her responsibility, she told herself. She’d do the talking.
A trooper climbed out of the car, adjusted his hat, then broke into a grin. “Cliff, didn’t expect to see you out here.”
“Bob.” Because the greeting didn’t include a handshake, Maggie assumed the men knew each other well and saw each other often. “My company’s handling the landscaping.”
“The old Morgan place.” The trooper looked around with interest. “Been a while since I was back here. You dig up something we should know about?”
“So it seems.”
“It’s the Fitzgerald place now,” Maggie cut in briskly.
The trooper touched the brim of his hat and started to make a polite comment. His eyes widened when he took his first good look at her. “Fitzgerald,” he repeated. “Hey, aren’t you Maggie Fitzgerald?”
She smiled, though the recognition, with Cliff beside her, made her uncomfortable. “Yes, I am.”
“I’ll be damned. You look just like your pictures in all the magazines. I guess there isn’t a song you’ve written I can’t hum. You bought the Morgan place.”
“That’s right.”
He pushed the hat back on his head in a gesture that made her think of cowboys. “Wait till I tell my wife. We had ‘Forever’ played at our wedding. You remember, Cliff. Cliff was best man.”
Maggie tilted her head to look at the man beside her. “Really?”
“If you’ve finished being impressed,” Cliff said mildly, “you might want to take a look at what’s down by the gully.”
Bob grinned again, all amiability. “That’s why I’m here.” They began to walk toward the gully together. “You know, it isn’t easy to tell what’s from a human and what’s from an animal just by looking. Could be, ma’am, that you uncovered a deer.”
M
aggie glanced over at Cliff. She could still feel the way her hand had slid into the hollow opening of what she’d taken for a rock. “I wish I could think so.”
“Down here,” Cliff said without acknowledging the look. “The going’s rough.” In a smooth, calculated move, he blocked Maggie’s way before she could start down. It forced her to pull up short and grab his arm for support. “Why don’t you wait here?”
It would’ve been easy to do so. Much too easy. “It’s my land,” Maggie said, and, brushing by him, led the way down herself. “The dog started digging in this pile.” She heard the nerves in her own voice and fought against them. “I came down to pull him away, and that’s when I saw …” Trailing off, she pointed.
The trooper crouched down, letting out a low whistle. “Holy hell,” he murmured. He turned his head, but it was Cliff he looked at, not Maggie. “It doesn’t look like you dug up any deer.”
“No.” In a casual move, Cliff shifted so that he blocked Maggie’s view. “What now?”
Bob rose. He wasn’t smiling now, but Maggie thought she detected a gleam of excitement. “I’ll have to call the investigation section. Those boys are going to want to take a look at this.”
Maggie didn’t speak when they climbed up the slope again. She waited in silence while the trooper went to his car to radio in his report. When she did speak, she deliberately avoided the reason they were all standing outside in the middle of the afternoon.
“So you two know each other,” she commented as though it were any normal remark made on any normal day.
“Bob and I went to school together.” Cliff watched a big black crow swoop over the trees. He was remembering the look on Maggie’s face the moment before she’d begun to scream. “He ended up marrying one of my cousins a couple of years ago.”
Bending over, she plucked a wildflower and began to shred it. “You have a lot of cousins.”
He shrugged. The crow landed and was still. “Enough.”
“A few Morgans.”
That caught his attention. “A few,” he said slowly. “Why?”
“I wondered if it was your connection with them that made you resent my having this land.”
Cliff wondered why, when he normally respected candor, it annoyed him from her. “No.”
“But you did resent it,” Maggie insisted. “You resented me