Eris's mouth twitched. “Russell made you throw your fish back?”
“He was mad because I rejected him this morning.”
“He came over this morning?”
“Right after he left your house.”
“He left before I did.”
“Then he came back. I told him I wasn't interested and he seemed all right with it at the time, but when he caught me with the fish later he was an absolute jerk.”
“You don't have a license,” said Eris. “Can't fish without one.”
The matter-of-fact statement caught Madeleine by surprise and she stared at him. “This day hasn't been bad enough, but you have to come home and side with these lake mutants against me.”
“I'll get you a license,” said Eris.
“Forget it,” Madeleine flashed at him. “I only have one kitten left to feed.”
She walked away from him, leaving him to hunt worms to feed whatever bird it was he had in the cage. Beside the door at the cabin she found a sack of cat food waiting for her. She looked over her shoulder but couldn't see him. Madeleine sighed and picked up the heavy sack to carry it inside with her.
Later she carried a covered plate of spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread with butter down to him. He was still on his porch, trying to feed the bird.
“What kind is it?” she asked as she set the plate down beside him.
”A red-tailed hawk. Found it in the road today.”
“How old is it?”
“Not very. Can't find anything it'll eat.”
“Try a meatball.”
Eris looked at the plate. “Smells good.”
“Better eat, before it gets cold.”
“Here,” he said, and gestured to a dish with what looked like chopped raw meat inside. ‘‘You try.”
Madeleine made a face, but she stuck her fingers in the dish while Eris went inside for a fork to eat his spaghetti. She picked up a pinch of the meat and put her hand through the bars to hold it temptingly above the baby hawk's head.
The bird's head moved slightly, but its eyes were in a half closed state and Madeleine didn't think it was even aware of the food. She dipped her hand to touch it lightly on the head, and Eris came out in time to see the baby hawk's beak open. Madeleine dropped the meat in, and then had the top of her finger punctured as the beak made either a swift gobbling or attacking motion. She jerked her hand out and looked at the blood welling up on the finger.
“Must be a woman's touch,” she said.
“Come on,” said Eris, and he led the way into the bathroom, where he poured stinging disinfectant over the torn flesh and then put on a bandage.
Madeleine applied pressure with another finger so it would stop the bleeding, and she looked up to find Eris's dark eyes on her face.
Her breathing went suddenly shallow and a surge of warmth spread through her at his expression. She took an unconscious step forward and he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose before turning her and leading her back outside again.
Madeleine was disappointed. Everything inside her was ready and eager to join with him again, and his eyes told her he wanted the same. She didn't understand why he brought her back outside. She looked at him with questioning eyes as he picked up the plate of spaghetti and began to eat.
She doubted it was hunger that kept them apart. When she was close to him she didn't care if she ever ate again.
He picked up a long instrument that looked like tweezers and handed it to her. “Pick up the meat with this and feed it to the bird.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling incredibly stupid.
While Eris ate, she fed the bird, which had suddenly found its appetite and was greedily choking down every morsel she passed through the cage. When the dish was empty she put it down and saw that Eris had finished as well. He excused himself to go and clean the sauce off his shirt, and after a moment she followed him into the house. She found him in the bathroom sluicing water over his face. Madeleine propped herself in the doorway and stood watching him until he opened his eyes and saw her.
He took a towel from the rack and dried himself. Then he said, “I don't have anything to protect you.”
Madeleine said, “I have a diaphragm.”
“Were you wearing it last night?”
“No.”
He went still, watching her. Then he asked if she was worried.
She shook her head. “Do you want me to go and get it? The diaphragm?”
“If you're asking me if I want to make love to you, the answer is yes. If you're asking me would I like to see you protect yourself from me, the answer is no.”
Madeleine's gaze fixed on his. “You just said you didn't have anything to protect me. It sounded like you were concerned about it.”
“For your sake yes. I'm sure you'd rather not leave here pregnant.”
“Then you're all right?” Madeleine asked. “The chicken pox didn't—I mean, sometimes sterility can result.”
“I've never found out.”
He put the towel back in the rack and moved past her to leave the bathroom. Madeleine followed him and walked out of the house and up to the cabin. She put her diaphragm in place and came back to find him sitting in his chair in front of the silent television. She closed the door behind her and approached the chair. Eris hesitated only a moment before he put out a hand and pulled her to him, bringing her to sit on his lap. She slid her arms around his neck and closed her eyes while she pressed her mouth against his cheek and jaw. He turned his head and caught her lips with his, and she emitted a moan as he opened her mouth and deepened the kiss.
His hand moved to the buttons of her blouse while he kissed her, and her fingers were already busy pulling the band from his hair. She unbuttoned his shirt while he unhooked her bra, and soon their hands were free to touch flesh with no hindrances. Eris lifted her slightly to kiss her breasts and lightly tug on her hardened nipples and she buried her face in the dark silkiness of his hair. When his fingers trailed down her stomach to her navel and beyond, she squirmed so he could get at the snap on her shorts.
The shorts soon joined the pile of clothes beside the chair, and Madeleine gasped as his hand went directly between her legs and cupped the center of her, feeling the moisture that soaked the fabric of her underwear and told him of her state of readiness.
He tugged the panties off her and then lifted up while she struggled to pull his trousers and briefs down to free him. He jerked and drew in a sharp breath as Madeleine wrapped her hand around him. He stared into her face, willing control, and nearly came undone at the way she was looking at him. She moved above him, never taking her eyes off his, and slowly lowered onto him, taking him all the way into her and then leaning forward to gasp into his mouth as she settled over him. Eris's limbs began shaking again, and he held off not even half a minute, just long enough for Madeleine to move half a dozen times and come to a quivering orgasm, her mouth still attached to his.
They sagged against one another, still breathing hard, and with all urgency dissipated they relaxed and began to take their time touching and kissing and looking. Neither of them spoke, both unwilling to reduce to words what was happening, or to put a name to the feelings they were experiencing.
Madeleine could never get enough of kissing his lips, or of feeling her naked breasts pressed against his chest. She loved it when he put his arms around her and held her so tightly against him she could hardly breathe. He was telling her things with his actions that would never be expressed in words and it touched her more deeply than any trite, often repeated phrases ever would. She held him just as tightly, until desire arose again and their kisses became impassioned rather than sweet, and their touching had more purpose than tender caresses.
Eris put her legs around him and left the chair to carry her to his bedroom, where he placed her on the bed and then removed the rest of his clothing. Madeleine looked at his long, lean form and wondered to herself how any woman could not find him irresistible. He was so beautifully pr
oportioned and had such wonderfully shaped hands and feet. Not to mention other proportions of him that she had grown intimately fond of.
In her enamored state Madeleine no longer saw why anyone would consider him ugly. She was blinded to the pits and scars that marred his skin and saw only his deep brown eyes and the strong white teeth that hid behind his perfect lips. The color and texture of his hair made her squirm with pleasure when she drew her fingers through it. She wanted it down always, framing his head and giving him a look of wildness that she loved.
He came onto the bed with her and she took his face in her hands as he moved over her. He paused, looking at her, and she whispered to him how beautiful he was, and how she loved to look into his eyes. Eris stared, his dark gaze seeking hers in the dimness, until she found his mouth and began to kiss him as passionately as ever, driving away whatever thoughts her murmuring had brought to him. He soon moved above her and she was carried away all over again by the instant ecstasy he brought to her and her inability to find control over her responses. All he had to do was touch her and she was on the brink.
His own control was much better now, and he was happy to be able to exhaust Madeleine before allowing himself the pleasure of release. Afterward they lay gasping together on the bed.
Madeleine made a trip to the bathroom and found her diaphragm ready to fall out. She stared and wondered if Eris had somehow dislodged it. It was entirely possible. She went to get a glass of water and drank it down at the sink before refilling it to take to Eris. Before she turned away, out of the corner of her eye she saw something that made her stop. She looked up at the log cabin and saw Dale Russell's truck backing out of the drive.
What on earth was he up to?
She went back and told Eris, and he sat up. In the darkness she could tell he was frowning.
“The man obviously has a problem with rejection,” Madeleine said.
“I doubt it's ever come up before,” said Eris.
“I can't believe he came back after the way he treated me today.”
“Maybe he came to apologize.”
Madeleine handed him the glass of water. “It won't work.” She slid onto the mattress and curled up against him. Eris drank down the water and put the glass on the night stand. Then he turned and put his arms around her.
He didn't ask if she was staying the night and she didn't ask if she could. They simply fell asleep.
When Madeleine awakened she heard the shower running. Noiselessly she left the bed and went into the living room to put on her clothes. Then she walked into his kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
Ten minutes later Eris walked into the hall with a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked to see where she was, and then he returned to his bedroom.
He came back fully dressed, and Madeleine handed him a fried egg sandwich with mayonnaise and melted cheese. He thanked her and moved to stand over the sink while he ate. Madeleine made a similar sandwich for herself and then joined him at the sink.
He looked down at her and she smiled as she took her first bite.
After they finished eating she washed the skillet in the sink and went into the bedroom to see after the bed. The bed was already made. She found Eris on the front porch, looking after his hawk, and she touched him on the arm and lifted herself to brush him on the lips when he turned to her. Then she went home.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Eris felt sick. He had been sick ever since he touched her for the first time, and the feeling wasn't going away. His stomach felt as if it were lodged in his throat and parts of his body ached when he was away from her. He fought to keep things as normal and routine as possible, but his thoughts never strayed from her for very long, and what used to be a simple job for him was now a daily test in concentration.
At moments he was angry with her for screwing him up so badly, for taking his life into her small white hands and turning it inside out. The rest of the time he didn't care what she did to him, as long as she went on doing it the way she was doing it. For the first time in his life he felt right. A woman finally cared about him and enjoyed being intimate with him. And this was no ordinary woman. This was Madeleine. He had never known anyone like her. No one had ever looked at him the way she did, or made him so aware of himself as a man.
He shifted in his seat as he drove and fought to think of anything else.
It was useless. He kept remembering what it felt like to be inside her. How small she was. How soft her mouth was.
He made a noise of frustration and made himself concentrate on his surroundings, only to think of the quick breakfast she had made for him. If Eris wasn't smitten before, he fell hard when she joined him at the sink to eat that morning. Any other woman might have complained about the absence of a table and chairs. Not Madeleine. She wasn't interested in changing anything about him, only in sharing with him.
The sick feeling in him intensified when he thought of her someday leaving.
Then he forced himself not to think about it. He couldn't, if he wanted to function normally.
He thought he was seeing things when he drove past the Haven and saw Ronnie Lyman stroll in the door.
Eris pulled in and turned off the truck. He took off his glasses and walked inside to find Lyman talking to the man behind the counter.
Lyman turned when he heard Eris's footsteps, and when he saw Eris he backed up and said, “Don't mess with me, okay? I'm just talkin' to the man here about what he saw the day my daughter disappeared.”
“I didn't see nothin’,” the man said.
Eris advanced on Lyman and grabbed him by the collar to haul him out of the store. Outside he shoved him against a green Grand Prix and said, “We both know your daughter didn't disappear, but you might if I ever catch you around here again.”
Lyman's eyes widened. “That little bitch,” he said incredulously. “When did she talk to you?”
Eris ignored him. “The police have some questions, Ronnie. And a lot of people would like to kick the shit out of you. I'm one of them.”
Ronnie struggled to push him away. “Just tell me where she is. Tell me where the bitch went. The whole damned thing was her idea to begin with, not mine. Yeah, I'm sure she made herself sound real innocent, and you bought every word.”
The urge to hit him was overpowering, but Eris settled for slamming Lyman against the car again.
“Don't even think about selling that line of bullshit. You're the one holding all the cash, not her.”
“Did she tell you that? She's lying. I don't have a damn dime, I swear.”
Eris looked at the car behind him and said, “Wonder where it went.”
“Hey, man, I—”
Lyman was slammed against the car again before he could finish, and Eris suggested holding him there so the police could come and ask their questions.
“They know where to find me,” Ronnie snarled. “I'm still at the same place. Tell 'em to come on. I'll talk to 'em and tell 'em the truth about what happened.”
Eris released him and Ronnie got in his car and started the engine. He put the car in reverse and said, “You can't keep me out of here. I'll see you bastards in court. This is a public park, man, and—”
Eris kicked the driver's door, making a huge dent in the side. “Sue me.”
Ronnie Lyman's face grew purple with rage, and he backed the car wildly away from the convenience store, spinning tires and kicking up dust. Eris stood and watched his departure, and once again he found himself hoping Sheila Lyman had gone somewhere very far away.
On impulse Eris went back inside the store to talk to the man behind the counter.
“Well,” he said, after Eris asked his question, “I'll tell you what I told that detective from the county who showed up here. I don't really remember much about that day. I remember talkin' to an old boy from Stockton, Missouri, on the phone in the late afternoon, and that's it. Never saw anyone and never sold a thing until six o'clock that day, according to my register receipts.”
&n
bsp; Eris thanked the man and left, wondering what the hell Lyman thought he was doing by asking questions and bothering people. Was he making it look good for the press in anticipation of Sheila giving away the hoax? Framing his story about it all being his wife's idea, because he was really doing his best to find out who killed his little girl?
The year that rained shit was getting worse all the time.
As far as his job was concerned, anyway.
He ran across Dale Russell at a dock later that afternoon and asked him about the incident with Madeleine. Russell shrugged and grinned. “I took a license up to her house later, wanted to tell her it was all a joke, but she wasn't home.” He shook his head then. “She's a tough one, little Maddie is.
Guess she's had some problems, though, since her old man committed suicide.”
Eris's mouth twitched. “Did she tell you that?”
“Yeah. Needs someone to talk to pretty bad. I'll do what I can, but I'm no Dear Abby. She ever talk to you?”
“Occasionally,” said Eris.
“If you see her, tell her I've got a license for her. And tell her I was just kidding. She walked off before I could tell her I was joking.”
Eris waved to him and drove on.
If he had reason to dislike Dale Russell before, it regenerated itself a hundred times over as he gained distance from the other conservation officer. Needs someone to talk to pretty bad? Madeleine had been right about Russell having a problem with rejection.
And Eris had a problem with him. He had been tempted to tell the ass Madeleine had been with him the night before. Renard, the ugly old Indian.
But he didn't need to do that, and he wouldn't. It was enough that Eris knew where she was and what she was doing. No one else needed to know.
“I tried calling until all hours last night,” Jacqueline said on the phone to Madeleine. “Where were you?”
Madeleine drew a breath and said, “I'm sorry. I've been the butt of a prankster this week and I was trying to ignore the phone.” She didn't know why she was lying.
”A prankster?”
“Someone has learned I'm here all alone, evidently.”
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