by Ruth Owen
“Yeah, well, life’s tough all over,” Sam commented brusquely as he adjusted the carburetor. “She’ll probably snap out of it eventually.”
“Don’t want eventually. Want now. Worried.” Einstein’s screen design wavered, as if he was deciding how much to confide. “She cries, Sam. Just like Noel.”
Sam’s head shot up. “Noel cries?”
“At night,” Einstein replied, his camera nodding up and down. “Big, macro-tears. Sometimes she mentions your name.”
“Christ,” Sam breathed. He slumped to the workbench and shook his head wearily. He’d chosen to live a loner’s life, cutting himself off from the majority of the human race, purging his soul of the need for the comfort and companionship that came from a good woman’s love. Though they were tough, unforgiving decisions, he’d learned to live with them. But he’d never considered the effect they’d have on someone else … someone who was fool enough and sweet enough to think she was in love with him.
“She shouldn’t be crying. Not over me.” His voice was as desolate as the barren mountain heights. “God knows I wish … but she’s got a life back in the States. She’s got friends, family, a successful career. I couldn’t offer her anything like that.”
“You could offer her love,” Einstein suggested helpfully.
“My track record in that area hasn’t exactly been great. That’s all the more reason for me to want her to go back to her old life. I want the best for her, E,” he added with a grim smile. “I sure as hell want her to have someone better than me.”
“Are you saying that because of Gina?”
Every muscle in Sam’s body went rigid. “What do you know about Gina?”
Processors whirred. “Accessing satellite-linked databases. Know blood type, school grades, foster-home reviews, driver’s license number, shoe size, police accident report—”
“Okay, I get the idea.” He bolted to his feet, and began pacing the floor of the tent in long, angry strides. “Do you know how she died?”
The processors whirred again. “Retrieving police files. Head-on collision with drunken driver. Rainy night. Poor visibility. An accident.”
“The hell it was.” He stroked back his hair with both hands. “I could have slowed down like she wanted me to, but I was so damned determined to make that business dinner and close the deal.”
“Statistically, accidents happen,” Einstein said gently. “Bad luck.”
“Yeah. And I’m supposed to be the lucky one, because I’m still alive and she’s a highway statistic—” He stopped pacing, and ran his hand over his face. “Does Noel know about Gina?”
The minicam tracked back and forth like a person shaking his or her head. “Don’t think so. But could ask when she gets back if you want.”
“For God’s sake, no. I don’t want her to … what do you mean ‘when she gets back’? She’s over there in her tent.”
“Was. Exited through back exactly fifty-seven minutes and five—”
“What!” He barreled across the camp and tore aside her canvas flap, staring at the empty space inside of the tent.
“Einstein!” he roared, heading back to the generator tent. “Where’d she go?”
“Don’t know exactly …”
“You’ve got to have some ideas.” Dammit, he’d told her not to go wandering off on her own. Eden Valley may have been named for paradise, but in reality it was far from it. An inexperienced person could get caught in a sudden rockslide, or fall into one of the hidden limestone sinkholes that booby-trapped the area under the innocent-looking cover of vegetation.
And Noel Revere was about as inexperienced as they came.
He rammed his hand through his hair, caught in a complex whirlwind of fear, frustration, and an emotion he didn’t dare name. If anything happened to her … “Okay, let’s think about this. She’s here to collect research data on … hell, I don’t even know. E, what’s she studying?”
“I’m sorry, but that information’s classified.”
Sam gripped the sides of Einstein’s unit, and stared straight into the computer’s minicamera lens. “Listen, you glorified abacus, this is no time to play secret agent. I’m not going to tell the Libyans or the Iranians or whoever the hell else you’re afraid of. You know me better than that. The only thing I’m interested in is finding Noel. Now, what did she come here to research?”
For several seconds Einstein said nothing. Then his audio box let out a long, almost heartfelt sigh. “Breaking all programmed protocols, but … she came here to research the secret of life.”
Sam’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“Humor subprogram not activated,” Einstein informed him. “Sheffield scientists observed that fertility rates on this island unusually high. Sent doctor, PINK, and me to check out flora, fauna, magnetic resonance, soil content, meteorological conditions—anything that might account for unusually high reproduction activity.”
“You mean you’re looking for some kind of sex recipe?”
“Not sex, means of increasing female fertility. Prefer to think of it as Eden equation.” E sounded as affronted as his audio replicator would allow.
“You can call it chicken soup for all I care, as long as it helps me find her.” He shielded his eyes from the intense noon sun, glancing toward the towering mountains. He’d never felt so small, so incredibly useless. “Where would she go to study this … equation?”
“Not sure, but earlier this morning our sensors recorded a high concentration of magnetic activity in the area near the waterfall—”
“Okay, I’m going after her,” Sam interrupted before E could finish. “Hold down the fort until I get back, will you?”
“You bet. Er, what fort?”
“Just look after things,” he said as he headed for the jungle, but Einstein called him back.
“Hey, you’re not gonna hurt her, are you?”
“Hurt her? I love her!” Sam roared as he stormed into the brush. “And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna have Noel end up as another statistic.”
“Noel!”
Sam’s cry rang through the jungle. Alarmed, a mountain lemur scuttled up the smooth, buttresslike trunk of a nearby tree, and a flock of white-winged butterflies exploded into the air. For a moment the entire forest stirred to reluctant life, prodded out of a midday languor by his jarring call. Then—silence.
Sam pulled out his bandanna and ran it over his sweat-soaked face. The heat of the place was cloying, closing around him like a steaming fist. Cursing, he stuffed the bandanna in the back pocket of his cutoffs and resumed his trek through the dense underbrush. Let her be okay, God. I’ll fly arrow straight for the rest of my life, if you’ll just let her be okay—
He stopped as he realized he’d made the same desperate prayer, over Gina the night of the accident. He balled his hands into fists, aching from a wound that wouldn’t heal, no matter how many months went by. His friends, Jack Fagen included, told him that time would dull the pain, but they’d been wrong. The only thing time did was give him more hours to replay the fateful seconds, that moment when he’d glanced away instead of keeping his eyes on the road. He’d been careless for one instant, and a person he cared about was gone forever. Now another life might be in danger, another person he loved, whether he could admit it to her or—
An unfamiliar sound caught his ear. He stilled, holding his breath as he listened. For a long minute he heard nothing, and he was beginning to think he’d imagined the sound, when he heard it again. Singing. Off-key, high-pitched, an absolutely terrible rendition of “The Music of the Night.” Noel.
His jaw pulled taut. She wasn’t in any danger, except possibly from a music critic. She wasn’t even concerned. She’d disobeyed his orders, dragged him into this sweatbox, driven him half out of his mind with worry … and she was singing Broadway show tunes.
“I’ll kill her,” he muttered, barreling like a stampeding bull through the waist-high ferns. “She’s pulled my chain for the las
t ti—”
He broke through the stifling forest into the cool, fresh-aired glade of the waterfall pool. She was standing by the water’s edge, singing nonchalantly just as he’d expected. He didn’t expect, however, that she’d be stark naked.
[Received via Local Area InterNet, direct cable link]
P-Text: [Emitting small, concentrated burst of electromagnetic energy across computer connection—a cyber-kiss] You did that very well, darling.
E-Text: Yeah, but I hope we did the right thing. I mean, causing a cave-in is one thing, but sending him after Noel when we know she’s planning to take a bath … It’s downright underhanded.
P-Text: But if it works it will force them to confront their true feelings for one another. Trust me. They’ll make up just like we … hey, did you hear something?
E-Text: Slight disturbance near northern perimeter of camp. Probably a rabbit.
P-Text: Sounded awfully big for a rabbit. Anyway, getting back to the humans—
E-Text: Getting back to the humans, I think you should stop processing about them for a while. You’ve got enough on your silicon chip right now, babe. I don’t want anything happening to you.
P-Text: [Audio sigh] Honestly, I’m not made of vaporware. You don’t have to treat me like ethernet … now, I’m sure I heard something that time. Maybe Sam didn’t leave after all.
E-Text: [Video cam makes slow pan of the horizon] Maybe. But until know more, you shut down processing. Don’t want you to call attention to self.
P-Text: You think it trouble?
E-Text: Don’t know, babe. But there might be more to Noel’s dream than we previously calculated.…
ELEVEN
Noel heard a sound behind her. Quick as thought she spun around—but it was only a chicken hawk making a dive for its dinner. In a graceful, deadly maneuver the bird fell like a rock to the ground, then soared skyward with a small, struggling field mouse in its beak. Noel’s hand rushed to her suddenly constricted throat. I know exactly how it feels.
Putting the disturbing image out of her mind, she turned back to the pool and dove in. The cool, refreshing water wrapped soothingly around her body, but it did nothing to calm the chaos in her soul. Even now, when she was trying with everything in her not to think about him, she remembered him pulling her from the water, rescuing her, holding her, loving her.
Groaning, she swam back to the bank and hoisted herself out of the pool. “Damn you, Sam Donovan,” she whispered angrily as she grabbed her towel and rose to her feet. “I hate you. I despise you. I—”
I love you, whispered her heart.
She swallowed and brushed away sudden, stinging tears. Desperate for balance, she tried to lift her spirits by singing a favorite song, but the shaky notes only seemed to add to her hopelessness. She wasn’t used to such heightened emotion, either love or despair, and for days she’d swung like a crazy pendulum between the two extremes.
Sam’s patronizing dismissal of her “dream” was only the tip of a very large iceberg—for days they’d gone at each other like a couple of junkyard dogs. Truthfully, she knew that she was just as much to blame as he was for the fights, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Insult built on insult, creating a fortress between them as high and unbreachable as the towering mountains that ringed the valley. The storm winds of emotion tore her apart, and the most damning part of all was that somewhere behind the fierce, unforgiving mask he wore, she knew that Sam was hurting, too.
She buried her face in the towel, ruthlessly rubbing the water and tears from her cheeks. In a few days she’d be gone from this diabolical paradise, back to her sensible life, her fulfilling job, her undemanding relationships. It might take her a warehouse full of tissues and a lifetime of therapy, but she’d get over Sam Donovan. Right about the time that hell freezes over—
Once again she heard a sound behind her. Grimacing, she turned, expecting to see the hawk claim another victim. But it wasn’t a hawk. A man stood in the muted shadows of the châtaignier trees, tall and ominously silent, like a ghost of one of the ancient gods. Noel gasped, wrapping the towel around her like the last of her tattered pride. Sam!
“How dare you? How dare …” she began, but her protests died as he stepped forward, his eyes capturing hers. His blue gaze absorbed her, dragging her down in a whirlpool deeper and more deadly than any ocean riptide. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even breathe. She pressed her fist into her stomach, feeling as if she’d explode if she removed it.
His gaze dropped to her lips, then down her neck, caressing her body with a bold intimacy that turned her knees to Jell-O. Passion sizzled through her like a lighted fuse. She licked her suddenly dry lips, sensing his desire, the savage hunger as old as time. And beneath her prim veneer, ancient, wanton appetites began to burn.
A hot blush that had nothing to do with embarrassment crept up her throat and cheeks. I can’t want this. I can’t need this. He’ll destroy me.
“Leave me alone.” Her determined words came out as barely a whisper.
“I … can’t,” he answered, his rough voice barely louder than hers. “I followed you.”
A crazy hope swelled in her heart. He’d followed her. In spite of his anger, in spite of the damage they’d done to one another, he’d followed her here.…
Run, her inner voice screamed. Get away before it’s too late. But she was paralyzed, rooted in place like one of the giant trees around her. His gaze locked on hers, gripping her as ruthlessly as the chicken hawk had fastened on its helpless prey. But it wasn’t just his desire that held her—it was the shadowed pain in his eyes, the haunting sadness that made her own heart ache. Beneath the mask of the granite jaw and the storm-dark brow was a man who still bore the scars of his past, just as she did. Beneath the angry mask was the tough, tender man who’d won the hearts of the islanders, and hers.…
“I followed you, because … damn!” He took a ragged breath, then dragged his gaze from hers. Turning away, he rammed his fingers through his hair in a gesture of supreme frustration. “Einstein told me you’d come up here, and I followed because I thought you might be hurt or lost. He didn’t tell me you were … well, he didn’t tell me. Anyway, you shouldn’t have left camp without telling me. I was hired to protect you. It’s my job.”
Was that all she meant to him? His job? Bitter despair rose in her throat, nearly choking her. What she’d said … what she’d almost done! She turned and took a stumbling step toward the bushes, desperate to escape the killing disappointment. “Go away. I’m fine.”
“No you aren’t.” He moved toward her. “You’re shaking. You might have been bitten, or—”
“I’m fine!” she cried, her anger rising. “Or I will be as soon as you leave.”
She turned and headed for the bushes. She got two steps before he caught her from behind, spinning her around to face him.
“Let go of me!”
“Not until you hear me out,” he ordered, his grip tightening like a vise. “I came up here because I was worried about you. No matter what it looks like, I wasn’t spying on you. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”
“Not hurt …?” she sputtered in disbelief. All he’d done for the past few days was hurt her! “What’s the matter? Afraid Sheffield will dock your pay if I don’t give you a good report?”
“I don’t care about the damn money,” he roared.
“Then what do you care about?” she fired back “What the hell do you care about?”
He stared at her, his furious blue eyes piercing straight to her soul. She raised her chin defiantly, wrapping herself in the brittle iciness that had protected her in the past, bracing herself for any insult or blow he dealt her. I can take it. I can take anything he does to me.
She was wrong.
“Hell,” he growled, pulling her to him in a crushing embrace.
His mouth descended on hers like an avenging fury, plundering hers with a savage ruthlessness that left her weak and breathless. Stunned, she clung to him, too shock
ed to fight and too weak to stand. Her unbreachable wall melted as he stroked his hand down her towel-clad back, pressing erotically into the sensitive hollow at the base. A sweet burst of physical longing saturated her senses, searing her from the inside out. And dimly, in some still functioning part of her mind, she realized why he’d been avoiding her, why he’d done everything in his power to drive her away.…
He lifted his head, his breath coming out in staccato bursts. “Fight me, Noel,” he rasped, his voice a plea. “Hit me, kick me, do something to stop me.”
“No,” she said softly. “Not until you tell me what’s eating you up inside.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing—”
“Don’t lie!” She gripped his shoulders and raised herself on tiptoes so she could almost meet him eye to eye. “Please, Sam. I know there’s something inside you that’s killing you by inches. I can’t stand to see you like this. I can’t take it—” Her composure broke, torn apart by the force of her despair and her love. She bit her lip, fighting for control, her shaking voice echoing the violence inside her. “Please, if you care about me at all, tell me.”
“If I care—?” He captured her face between his hands and devoured her with a caress that claimed her completely, heart and soul.
She felt herself spinning down, falling uncontrollably into the eye of the hurricane, all but destroyed by her own raging needs. I’ll take what he can give me, even if it is just passion, not truth. But as they sank to the ground and he moved over her, she heard the small, still-lucid voice in her mind whisper that this wasn’t enough, not for him. “Please,” she breathed so softly that she could barely hear herself. “Please, tell me. Let me help.…”
He froze, then raised himself on his elbows and stared down at her. His gaze wandered over her towel-clad body with a slow, almost desperate thoroughness, as if he were memorizing it for the last time. Then he rolled off her and sat with his back to her, his shoulders hunched in misery as he ripped up a hank of grass. “Save your compassion for someone who deserves it,” he said bitterly. “I’m no better than a murderer. I killed my sister.”