His eyes creaked open and homed in on those scraped knuckles inches above his face, her hands poised under the bar as it slowly rose. When his arms were fully extended she helped him roll it onto the brackets. Never had anything sounded as sweet as the solid clang when the bar settled in place, rocking the bench.
She folded her arms on the bar and shared his breathless chuckle. Had he ever felt this connected to anyone? If so, he couldn’t recall. Lazily, his overstressed arms trembling, he reached up and drew her fingers down. He pressed his lips to those abused knuckles.
He murmured, “You’d have made a hell of a drill sergeant, Elizabeth.”
Her smile melted away. When she just studied him solemnly, he sat up and leaned on a palm, letting his expression do the asking. What did I say?
She whispered, “You called me Elizabeth.”
He blinked, trying to remember when he’d last thought of her as Lizzie. “I did, didn’t I?” he murmured.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes soul-dark and suspiciously shiny. He was astounded. Such a little thing—calling her what she’d asked to be called—and yet it meant so much to her. His stubborn refusal to grant her that simple courtesy must have seemed hopelessly petty and mean-spirited.
Hell, he thought, it was petty and mean-spirited. Just one more way to grind her down, to underscore her powerlessness.
What kind of man was he?
She offered a lopsided smile. “It won’t work, you know. I’m not going to stop calling you Rambo.”
“Hey, it was worth a try.” He stripped off his gloves, reached for the towel on the floor and started wiping down his face and chest. He said quietly, “I didn’t expect you to come looking for me today, af ber...everything. I figured you’d be busy putting a razor edge on your fingernails.”
A touch of sadness crept into her eyes. He reached out to stroke her cheek and cup her face in his palm. He felt her swallow, felt the tightness in her throat. She asked, “Why did you stop?”
He didn’t have to ask, Stop what? He drew a long, slow breath and slid his hand down to clasp hers. “You...surprised me. I didn’t realize you were a virgin.” She opened her mouth. “Don’t say it. I know. I didn’t believe you.”
A cold ball of apprehension settled in his stomach. What else had she been telling the truth about?
Damn his brother. David had misled him—at least with respect to one critical little detail! Caleb tried to fit in Elizabeth’s lack of sexual experience with the predatory image David had drawn. Could she have been simply guarding her virginity for a worthier prospect?
Even as the ugly rationalization took shape, he jettisoned it. That kind of cold calculation may have jibed with the woman Caleb had expected when he’d engineered this mission, but it had nothing to do with the woman he’d come to know since. Still, he couldn’t dismiss his brother’s pain, his impassioned recounting of the treatment he’d suffered at her hands.
Who was he to believe? David or Elizabeth? Or did the truth lie somewhere in between?
She looked away and then back at him, high color blossoming in her cheeks. “But even so, you knew I didn’t want you to stop.”
“Elizabeth.” He squeezed her hand. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, walking away from you this morning. But I had to. You’re under my protection”
“Protectiont” She snatched her hand away. “How chivalrous. Most people call it unlawful imprisonment.”
“Call it what you will, it boils down to one thing—while you’re here, I’m responsible for you. For providing for your needs and keeping you safe. And that sure as hell doesn’t include...” Making sweet, deep, scorching love to you till your head and heart and body are filled with nothing but me.
He cleared his throat. “This morning was...a mistake. I never should have let things get so out of hand. It won’t happen again.” After an uncomfortable silence he said, “I thought twenty-five-year-old virgins were an extinct species.”
She shrugged and circled the exercise bench to sit next to him, facing the opposite direction. “What can I tell you? We’re making a comeback.”
“What is it, AIDS? The whole safe-sex thing?”
“That’s part of it The only safe sex is no sex, right? But there’s more to it than that At least for me. I always figured...well, making love is the most intimate experience you can share with anyone. Why squander it—cheapen it—by doing it with someone you don’t really care for?”
Her explanation lingered in the silence that followed, along with its inescapable corollary: Elizabeth cared for him. Enough to give herself to him in this most intimate way. That knowledge thrilled him on a gut-deep level when he knew he ought to be dismayed.
He asked, “How did you survive three weeks at Avalon, uh...intact?”
With a sneer of distaste she said, “That Lugh’s a piece of work. He came on to me, pretty brazenly, the first day I was there.”
“Were you surprised?”
“I was, yes. I knew they discourage that kind of thing at Avalon. Free love has no place in their communal philosophy. It’s all about the rhythms of nature and good hard work, mainly farming.”
“And scrubbing latrines.”
She grimaced at the reminder. “That’s the job they give new people. You’ve gotta work your way up to tilling the good earth. Of course, there’s a lot of harmony-and-love stuff, too, but strictly the platonic variety.”
“So the sexual revolution kinda got left back in the sixties.”
“I guess so. They’re pretty conservative that way. Besides, everyone works so hard, they’re too exhausted for sex The closest they get to physical intimacy is a group hug each morning.”
“So how did you discourage Lugh? I understand he can be pretty persistent.”
“Well, of course, I told him I’m a virgin. I thought that would be the end of it, that he’d respect my inexperience and leave me alone.”
“Let me guess. He was more turned on than ever.”
“How’d you know?”
“Shot in the dark.” Caleb smiled at her naiveté.
“He was...intrigued by my innocence. That’s how he put it. Anyway, he made it clear, in that smooth-talking way he has, that sleeping with him was part of the deal. He wasn’t going to back down.”
“And yet he must have.”
“Well, see, he’s really into this cycles-of-nature business. Everything revolves around the lunar calendar. According to Lugh, the ideal time for me to yield the, uh, closed bud of my innocence and enter the full flower of womanhood blah blah blah was during the next full moon—that being the most auspicious time for any kind of change or transition.”
“Lucky for you, I got you out of there before he had a chance to pluck your bud.” So this was what she’d been talking about the night of her migraine, when she’d sat in the bathtub staring at the skylight. His temples throbbed with a surge of blood pressure. “So you were actually going to let him—”
“No! Good grief, Caleb, what do you think? I was going to leave before then. Then return after the full moon.”
“Fiendishly clever,” he said, with more than a touch of sarcasm.
She slumped. “It was the only thing I could think of.”
“Did you give them all your money?” he asked.
“Yep. Wiped out my bank account.” She had her hands stuffed in that kangaroo pocket, staring straight ahead with a rueful half smile. “All three hundred sixteen bucks and nineteen cents.”
For a moment he thought she had to be kidding. Then he abruptly turned away.
As if sensing his discomfort, she said quietly, “It’s been a lean year for work.”
Clearly an understatement “And you let them tattoo you.”
She shrugged. “Hey, you only live once, right?”
He looked at her. “Tell me why you joined.”
She met his gaze, their faces inches apart. Her eyes weren’t simply brown, as he’d thought. There was a ring of amber in the c
enter of the iris, which expanded now as he watched, mesmerized.
She said, “You’re ready to hear this?”
“Just lay it on me before I change my mind.”
She took a deep breath. “David called me from Avalon. He was real furtive, kind of whispering.”
“What did he say?”
“He was terrified. Something was going on that he couldn’t tell me about over the phone. He only said he didn’t want to end up like Tessa.”
“Who’s Tessa?”
“I didn’t know at the time, but later I found out she was another member who quit the commune about the time David died. Anyway, he begged me to help him—to do what, I don’t know, but he made me promise to meet him the next day. Said he’d try to slip away for a couple of hours. Of course, I agreed. He was...” She bit her lip. “You should’ve heard him.”
Caleb didn’t have to. He’d heard the same fear and desperation in his brother’s voice when David had called to ask him to keep Elizabeth safe. But David hadn’t said anything about Tessa or any nefarious goings-on.
Caleb rested his elbows on his knees and thrust his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “If David had thought something was fishy at Avalon, he would’ve asked me to help him, not you. I’m the logical choice. I’m trained for that sort of thing.”
“Maybe it’s like I said before. He just couldn’t face your disapproval, knowing how you felt about the commune. If he’d asked for your help, you’d have probably found out he’d joined because he wanted to.”
“I’ll never believe that. No one forced him into it, that’s true, but he was compelled to by...by circumstances.”
“Those circumstances being the way I treated him. Say what you mean, Caleb.” She stared him down, with the righteous indignation of the unjustly maligned.
“All right, yes. By the way you treated him.” That hadn’t been so hard to say a couple of weeks ago. “So did you meet with him?” he asked.
“No. He died that night.” A heavy silence followed, until she asked, “Do you want to hear why I think he joined?”
“Why not?”
“I figure it was a combination of factors, the first being David’s mental outlook. He was never a happy person. Never had confidence in himself or his ability to cope with the day-to-day challenges and decisions all of us have to face. Tell me that’s not true:”
It was true. Caleb waved her on.
“The communal life-style is very seductive for that type of person,” she continued, “almost a return to the carefree days of childhood. Think about it. All your decisions are made for you. Where you live. What kind of work you do. What you eat. When you wake up and when you go to bed. You give up your freedom of choice, but in return you get security, support, approval.”
He couldn’t deny David would have been drawn to that kind of life. “What else?”
“I’m pretty sure Lugh sniffs out the more affluent prospective members and takes extra pains to recruit them.”
“You won’t get an argument from me on that.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “Wonders never cease.”
“I don’t know, Elizabeth. Somehow I can’t see a sensitive artist type like my brother swabbing out urinals.”
“Some members have special skills that are of use to the commune. Bookkeeping, cooking, what have you. Then they’re exempt from the regular chores.”
“But a graphic artist?” David must’ve scoured a lot of porcelain those last few weeks.
“That’s the funny thing. I asked around about David when I was mere—subtly, of course. He never worked in the latrines. Or in the fields or the kitchen or any of the public areas. They had him doing something—I don’t know—classified. He never talked to anyone about it.”
Caleb felt the buzz of adrenaline in his veins.
Something classified.
What had they had his little brother doing at Avalon?
Elizabeth said, “Just like you, I’m acting on a vow I made to David. I promised to help him—” her voice cracked “—and I was too late.”
Caleb laid a hand on her shoulder, moved by her impotent grief, which mirrored his own. “Elizbeth...” He almost said, It’s not your fault, but didn’t that go against everything he’d believed since his brother’s death? Ultimately, if even a fraction of what David had told him about their relationship was true, then his brother’s tragic fate was indeed her fault
Caleb squeezed her shoulder and said, “You agreed to meet him. What more could you have done?”
With a helpless shake of her head she said, “I—I could’ve called the police. Told them I thought something suspicious was going on.”
“On the basis of that one phone call? They would’ve laughed. The cops won’t go near Avalon, not without a damn good reason. Lugh has courted all the local politicos. Made hefty contributions to a few campaign funds.”
“I just feel like I should’ve done something. I owed him that much. We were so close, for so long, David and I. Even through the strain of his romantic attachment to me, we remained friends. After he died, I figured the only way I could fulfill my promise to help him was to infiltrate the commune myself and investigate his death. I had to wait a few weeks till I’d finished some work I’d already committed to. Then I told my agent I’d be off the scope for a while and I joined Avalon.”
“And brought along that little semiautomatic in case things got hairy.”
“That’s right.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
Her long-suffering look spoke volumes.
He said, “Okay, stupid question.”
As one of the best marksmen in the world, Caleb admitted to a certain arrogance in this department Firearm skills were at the core of the Delta Force training program. He’d spent hours each day refining esoteric shooting techniques, firing hundreds of rounds at a time till his trigger finger seized up.
He could walk into a room where innocent people were being held and, in a split second, identify and shoot the terrorists before they had a chance to kill their hostages. It wasn’t a job for the average soldier.
She said, “I do target shooting. I’m a pretty good shot. That gun’s licensed.”
“Do you have a carry permit?”
She smirked. “Is the kidnapper threatening to turn me in for carrying a concealed weapon?”
He ignored that one. “Weren’t you concerned that David might have told Lugh about you? That he’d recognize your name?”
“I told them I’m a secretary and I used the name Beth. And my mother’s maiden name, Russell.”
“What else did you find out while you were at Avalon?”
She sighed. “Not bloody much, as Lugh would say. They kept me pretty busy, as you know, but I managed to snoop around a little. Something’s going on. People coming and going at odd hours. A lot of closed-door meetings in the administration building. Lugh had me living there, in a room in his private apartments. Didn’t want me bunking in one of the cabins, where someone might beat him to...”
“Your bud?”
She smirked again.
“So you were there for three weeks,” he said, “right in the heart of the operation, but you still couldn’t come up with anything more incriminating than a few secret meetings. Maybe they were deciding how much toilet paper to buy.”
“Caleb, something’s going on there! My instincts were screaming the whole time.”
“The only thing Lugh’s guilty of is targeting well-heeled, emotionally needy recruits and forcing them to turn over their assets. Plus his questionable political influence. The guy’s sleazy, I’ll grant you, but you’re not going to convince me he’s responsible for David’s suicide.”
“I don’t think it was suicide. I think he uncovered some kind of criminal activity and they murdered him.”
She was only voicing his initial suspicions, but he shook his head. “Ridiculous.”
“Caleb, did David ever seem suicidal to you? He wasn’t the happiest person,
it’s true, but did you ever know him to be seriously depressed?”
“Not before you.” When she failed to respond, he said, “I can’t ignore the things he told me. He couldn’t have made it all up.”
Maybe she wasn’t the irredeemable witch he’d originally thought, but at the very least, she’d been callous and insensitive to David’s strong feelings for her.
Wearily she asked, “Do you at least believe me about why I joined?”
“Yes. But you’re on the wrong track. David killed himself. I would have known if he’d been in danger,” Caleb said tightly.
“Why?”
He clenched his fists. “I just know I would have. Something would’ve clued me in.”
It couldn’t have been murder. Caleb was one of a handful of the most superbly trained warriors in the world. Surely he would have known if his own brother had been at risk from outside forces. No, the only risk to David had come from himself, from his own weakness and inability to cope with Elizabeth’s rejection—something Caleb couldn’t have foreseen or prevented.
She said quietly, “Now who’s feeling guilty?” When he remained silent, she touched his arm. “David was his own man, Caleb. You aren’t responsible for what happened to him any more than I am.”
“He was...weak.”
“And you blame the fact that you weren’t around during his adolescence.”
Was he that transparent? “Our dad died when he was only two,” he said. “I should’ve made sure he grew up stronger.”
“That was your mother’s job, not yours. If anyone’s at fault, it’s her. How old was he when you left for West Point?”
“Just ten.”
She paused. “That’s how old you were when you lost your father, no?”
“Yeah.”
“Who was your male role model?” He didn’t answer. “You didn’t have one. But you managed to grow up secure and self-reliant.”
He snorted. “I didn’t have much choice. You never met my mother.” He scrubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes on the memories. “When Dad died, everyone told me, ‘You’re the head of the family now, son. You’ve gotta take care of your mother.’”
A Hard-Hearted Hero (Harlequin Temptation) Page 9