Lost in His Arms (3 page)

However, Elizabeth knew not to give in to the emotional pulls, knew that a lot of energy could be wasted being angry. And she needed every ounce of energy she had to get them out of these damn woods.

“You ready?” she asked when they'd finished eating.

“You're angry with me.” He struggled to his feet.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Elizabeth scoffed. “What makes you think I'm angry?”

“You have a little twitch next to your right eyebrow. I've noticed it before when you're mad.”

Elizabeth reached up and touched her eyebrow. She started to protest, then changed her mind. “Okay, maybe I'm a little bit irritated,” she confessed.

“Don't you ever vent?” he asked, more than a
touch of irritation in his own voice. “When you get angry, don't you ever scream and rage, throw things and curse?”

“What would be the point?” Elizabeth snapped her suitcase closed and also stood. “Ranting and raving never solved anything. I learned very early in life that venting only gets you into trouble. Besides, you should talk. I've never seen you lose your cool. I always found that annoying about you.”

“Let's not start listing the things we find annoying about each other. It would take far too long, and we need to get out of here.” He took a step, then grimaced with pain.

Elizabeth once again moved beneath his arm, allowing him to lean on her enough to take some of his weight off his injured knee. Instantly she felt the warmth of his body transferring to her, an oddly intimate sensation that set her frayed nerves further on edge.

“Which way should we go?” she asked him, trying to ignore that, despite an escape from a plane crash and a night spent in the woods, he still smelled good.

He frowned and gazed around them, then pointed in the direction of the wrecked plane. “I think we should go that way,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked.

“Hell no, I'm not sure, but it's my best guess,” he replied, his voice containing a surly edge.

“Fine,” Elizabeth retorted. “And getting grouchy isn't going to make your knee feel any better or make a rescue team suddenly appear.”

“Let's just go,” he said, but this time his voice held only weary resignation.

They took off walking, Elizabeth supporting him as much as possible. It was slow going, and neither of them made any effort to talk.

The trees were close together, the underbrush thick and tangled. Squirrels jumped from tree to tree, chattering their anger at the intruders in their domain.

Elizabeth tried to focus on their surroundings, but Talbot's nearness was overwhelming. His arm was around her and his body was pressed against hers as they made their way through the forest, and the strength and firmness of his body somehow didn't surprise her.

She'd always secretly admired Talbot's broad shoulders, slim hips and the stomach that held not one ounce of fat. She wondered what it would be like to be held in his strong arms, not in an effort to help him walk, but held tightly against him in a moment of desire.

She stumbled over a half-exposed thick vine and gasped as Talbot caught her and steadied her against his impossibly firm chest. “Are you all right?” His breath was warm against the top of her head, and
she stepped away from him as if he'd breathed fire into her hair.

“I'm fine.” She drew a deep, steadying breath. “Why don't we take a break?”

“Sounds good to me,” he readily agreed, and together they sank to the ground facing each other.

“How's your knee?” she asked. She wanted, needed conversation to take her mind off the feel of his chest against her own.

“Sore,” he confessed.

She frowned thoughtfully. “I hope you aren't doing further damage by walking on it.”

“I don't have much choice.” He frowned and raked a hand through his hair. Elizabeth noticed the dark stubble that shadowed his cheeks and chin, a growth of whiskers that merely added to his attractiveness. “I'm sorry, Elizabeth. About all of this.”

She gazed at him in surprise, waiting for a cutting remark, a touch of sarcasm, a subtle indication that somehow everything that happened was her fault. There was none of those things. His eyes showed genuine contrition.

“There's nothing to apologize for.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, still looking at him. “You didn't crash your plane on purpose, right?”

“Right, but I do intend to have a conversation with my mechanic.” The hard glitter in his eyes
made her grateful she didn't have the responsibility of maintaining Talbot's plane.

“So, tell me about Twin Oaks. Why did Richard want to take Andrew there so badly? Why did he want me to meet him there?”

Talbot leaned back against a tree and extended his legs in front of him. “I can only guess what Richard thinks by the conversation we had before he left. I told you, the last week or so he's been pretty introspective, and when he does talk, it's been about Twin Oaks. Twin Oaks was the place of our childhood, a time in our lives when everything seemed wonderfully right.”

Elizabeth leaned forward, captured by his words, by the very idea of a childhood where everything seemed “wonderfully right” when her own childhood had been so horrifically wrong. “Tell me about it,” she urged.

His features relaxed and a smile curved his lips, letting her know his memories were pleasant ones. “Twin Oaks is so tiny it doesn't even warrant a dot on a map. We lived there until we moved to Morning View, Kansas. That was a year before our mom and dad's deaths. Twin Oaks is the kind of town where everyone knows everyone else and there're lots of potluck dinners and town gatherings.”

“Sounds lovely.” And what was even lovelier than his words was the warmth that emanated from his smile. She'd never before bathed in the warmth
of Talbot's smile, and it was a distinctly pleasant experience.

“It was,” he said. “I remember it as the only time in my life when I was carefree, and the biggest responsibility I had was going to school.” His smile widened and his eyes lit with humor. “And my biggest worry was if Mom was going to make another of her terrible surprise casseroles for dinner.”

Elizabeth gazed at him thoughtfully, suddenly realizing the burden that had been placed on him by his parents' untimely death. “It must have been hard for you to be twenty-one and suddenly responsible for a fourteen-year-old.”

He shrugged, the smile gone. “The way I saw it at the time there wasn't any choice. I became responsible for Richard, or I let him become a ward of the state and go into foster care. He's my brother and I could never allow that to happen.”

He got to his feet. “We should get moving,” he said, and in his words she heard him slam the door to any discussion about his past.

Still, as they continued to walk, Elizabeth found herself thinking about the twenty-one-year-old Talbot taking on the role of parent for his younger brother.

When most young people were exploring their first real breath of freedom and adulthood, going to clubs and dating, Talbot had taken the reins of his father's company and accepted the responsibility for
a teenage brother. For the first time ever, she felt a grudging respect and admiration for Talbot.

“Are you sure we aren't walking in circles?” she asked after another hour or so. They'd once again stopped to rest.

“I've been watching the sun and I'm pretty sure we aren't.” He rubbed his knee thoughtfully. “But I'm surprised we haven't come across anyone, not even a group of campers.”

Elizabeth looked up at the waning sunlight that broke through the trees, then looked back at Talbot. “We're going to be here overnight again, aren't we.”

“At this point it's a strong possibility.” He frowned and raked a hand through his disheveled hair. “It's going to get dark soon, and I don't want us stumbling around in the woods then.”

Elizabeth fought the sense of unease that always permeated her when she thought of the dark. “I'm starving,” she said in an effort to change the subject.

“Yeah, me too. I'd love a big juicy steak, medium rare, and a baked potato smothered in sour cream.” He looked at her with a touch of humor. “And I suppose if your dream meal were in front of you, it would be a lettuce leaf with a drizzle of dressing.”

“A lot you know,” she retorted. “My dream meal would be a double cheeseburger with a side of French fries and the biggest chocolate shake in the world.” She picked a dried leaf from her hair.
“Why on earth would you think I'd be interested in rabbit food?”

“Because whenever you and Richard came to my place for dinner, you usually didn't eat much of anything.”

Elizabeth well remembered those nights when she and Richard had first been married and Talbot would request their presence at dinner. How she had hated those family gatherings! “I was always too nervous to eat,” she confessed.

He eyed her in surprise. “Nervous? You always appeared amazingly cool and collected to me.”

“I was a good actress,” she replied. “Inside I was a quivering bundle of nerves and knew if I tried to eat, I'd probably throw up.” She grinned at him. “Remember the Big Burger down the street from your house? I used to make Richard stop there on the way home and I'd get a burger, fries and a shake.”

She could tell he was surprised by her confession. “What made you so nervous?” he asked.

She hesitated a moment before replying. She couldn't very well tell him that
he
made her nervous, with his gorgeous dark eyes and sculpted features. She couldn't tell him that whenever she was around him, all she could think about was how it might feel if he kissed her, made love to her. At the time, she hadn't even wanted to admit what she felt to herself.

She wasn't about to tell him that her nervousness
and tension around him was a result of an acute awareness of him, not as a brother-in-law, but as a virile handsome man whose eyes constantly held the chill of dislike.

“You,” she finally replied. At his puzzled look, she said, “Oh, come on Talbot, I knew how much you hated me. I knew you thought I'd gotten pregnant on purpose in order to trap Richard.”

“Why did you marry him?” His eyes held a genuine bewilderment.

“It wasn't just because I was pregnant,” she said defensively. “And I certainly wasn't looking to cash in on the McCarthy fortune, even though I knew that's what you believed.” She raised her chin, like a prizefighter anticipating a blow. “I was seventeen years old and I thought I loved Richard.”

“You and Richard were both far too young to know about love.”

“Try telling that to two hormone-driven teenagers,” she said dryly. In all the years of her marriage and in the years since her divorce, she and Talbot had never spent any time together alone and had certainly never discussed her marriage to his brother and subsequent divorce.

She frowned thoughtfully, her mind flitting back in time. “I was desperate to belong somewhere. Richard was handsome and fun and seemed to want all the same things I wanted. I desperately wanted
to believe that we could build something together. A family.”

She wanted, needed Talbot to understand. She reached out and touched his arm. “Haven't you ever felt passionate about something, about someone?”

“At the moment I'm feeling pretty passionate about getting out of here.” He rose to his feet. “We'd better keep moving in what little daylight is left.”

He limped off under his own steam, and Elizabeth hurried to catch up. She'd wanted him to understand what forces had initially pulled her toward Richard and ultimately what forces had driven them apart. But it was obvious he didn't care to know.

As she stared at his broad back, she realized he hadn't answered her question. He'd probably never felt passion for anyone, she thought. He'd always struck her as a man who would never understand passion, or love or need.

He'd always appeared strong in his isolation, content with his aloneness. What she didn't understand was why this knowledge of him created a strange ache inside her.

T
here had only been one thing in his adult life that had inspired passion in Talbot. To his utter shame and guilt, that something had been his brother's wife. He'd desired her, but knew he would never, ever follow through on that desire.

Still, even reminding himself of this fact didn't ease the pressure that had been building inside him. And he felt that if they didn't get out of these woods soon, if he didn't get away from her, he might explode. The consequences of such an explosion could be devastating to his brother.

Ever since she'd opened her suitcase and he'd spied those red lace panties, his mind had been filled with tantalizing visions of her wearing them and nothing else.

However, what bothered him more than his visions of a half-naked Elizabeth was the vulnerability he'd seen in her for the very first time.

He'd seen the softness in her eyes as she'd spoken of wanting to belong, and he didn't want to think of Elizabeth as soft. He had seen a strange, wistful light in her gaze when she'd told him that she'd learned early on that venting meant trouble.

He didn't want to think of her as soft and sweet and somehow needy.

They walked until the sunlight had faded and dusk was deepening. “We'd better stop for the night,” he finally said, reluctant to give up but knowing it was foolhardy to stumble around in the dark.

Elizabeth sank onto the ground with a weary sigh. “I feel like we're in some kind of demented fairy tale, and our curse is to forever wander and never find our way out of this forest.”

Talbot eased down beside her, not looking at her. “I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I can't tell you how sorry I am about all this.”

Her features were nearly hidden by the deepening darkness. “That's the second time you've apologized, and I told you before, it isn't necessary. I don't blame you for this mess. I just…I just miss Andrew and hope he isn't terribly worried.”

Tears suddenly shimmered in her blue eyes and he saw the slight tremble of her lower lip. With
amazement, he realized she was on the verge of crying.

Surely not. Not Elizabeth. His mind rejected the very idea of her crying. He'd seen her bail Richard out of jail and never shed a tear. He'd watched her in the throes of labor, when Richard had been playing basketball with a bunch of buddies and couldn't be reached, and no tears had dampened her eyes.

The luminous shimmer of her tears now affected him deeply. Helplessly he watched as a single tear trekked down her cheek.

“I'm sure Andrew knows you're fine,” he said, desperate to say anything that would halt the uncharacteristic tears. “He and Richard are probably back at your place now, playing video games and having a wonderful time. And if I know the two of them, they're probably having way too much fun to worry about us.”

“You really think so?” Her eyes shone with the light of hope.

“I'm positive,” he said firmly. He sent a prayer heavenward that Richard indeed had Andrew back home and they were both safe and sound. “They've probably ordered a pizza for supper and are scarfing it down. If we cross their mind at all, they're probably wondering if we've been abducted by aliens.”

To his relief, the tears disappeared from her eyes and she laughed. “I'm sure you're right,” she said.

As with the night before, a large tree trunk served
as a backrest as they settled in for the long night ahead. And as with the night before, as the shadows deepened, eventually disappearing into complete and total darkness, Elizabeth inched close to Talbot, so close he was enveloped in her warmth, her scent.

Both played havoc with his senses, stirring him in a way that was both wonderful and terrible. He steeled himself against the sensual assault, hating himself for wanting her…hating her for making him want her.

He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, wondering what in hell he'd done in his life to deserve the current situation.

Even though Richard and Elizabeth were no longer married, Talbot knew that pursuing any kind of relationship with her was out of the question. The whole thing would feel just…wrong.

Besides, for all he knew Richard had been plotting a way to get Elizabeth back all week, to reunite the family he'd lost. Talbot would never get in the way of a family.

As always, thoughts of Richard filled him with a combination of emotions. Love and protectiveness battled with worry and the vague sense that he hadn't done enough, hadn't
been
enough to make Richard a mature, well-adjusted man.

“Want to know why I'm afraid of the dark?” Elizabeth broke the silence.

He wanted to tell her no, to say that the last thing
he wanted was an invitation into the secret places of her soul. And yet he couldn't help the curiosity that ripped through him. “Okay. Why?”

“When I was five, my parents went out for the evening and left me with a baby-sitter. That night, while I slept, my parents were killed in a car accident.” She paused a moment and drew a deep breath.

“I was awakened by a stranger taking me from my bed and was driven to a foster home. When I woke up the next morning, everything I had known and loved was gone. Somehow in my mind, that night the darkness of it and incredible loss became hopelessly entangled.”

Although her words had been spoken matter-of-factly, Talbot heard the undertone of profound sadness, the whisper of residual fear.

Despite his resolve to the contrary, it was impossible for him not to be moved. He knew what it was like to lie in the shadows of night and be afraid of what morning might bring. However, when his parents had died, he'd been old enough to hang on to his home, their belongings and his own sense of identity. She had not been.

Unable to stop the impulse that drove him, he placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her more firmly against him. She pressed her face against the front of his shirt, and he knew her eyes
were squeezed tightly shut against the darkness that surrounded them.

“You're safe for the night,” he said softly against the sweet fragrance of her hair. “Just go to sleep and tomorrow we'll get out of here.”

A helpless resignation swept through him, and he found himself wondering how somebody who was so wrong for him could feel so right in his arms.

 

They found the motel after awaking and walking for an hour. Elizabeth wanted to fall to the ground and weep in gratitude. She was exhausted and hungry and felt as if she'd never be clean again.

She sank to a bench just outside the motel office as Talbot went inside to see about rooms. He'd been quiet since awaking, refusing to be drawn into any conversation she'd attempted. She'd finally given up, deciding she was as tired of him as he obviously was of her.

The morning sun was warm on her face, and she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, trying not to think about awaking in Talbot's arms.

She'd awoken before he had and been surprised to find herself draped across his chest, his arms circling her and their legs tangled. She had remained in his arms for a long time as he continued to sleep, enjoying the tactile pleasure of his body.

It had been a very long time since she'd awoken in a man's arms. Long before their divorce a year
ago, she and Richard had stopped seeking the comfort of each other's embrace.

Talbot's heartbeat had been strong and reassuring against her own, and for a moment Elizabeth had closed her eyes and been able to imagine they were in a clean bed, with silky sheets, and they had just made exquisite love.

She jumped up, cheeks burning from her imaginings, as Talbot exited the office, two keys in hand. “You're in room 104. I'm in 110,” he said as he handed her a key. “We'll shower and get something to eat, then decide how we're going to get back to Kansas City. When you're finished cleaning up, come to my room and we'll figure out our next step.”

She nodded and they parted ways. As soon as Elizabeth entered the small, tidy room, she spied the phone on the desk. Eagerly she hurried to it, dialed for an outside line, then dialed her home phone number.

Her heart thundered with anxiety as she waited for the phone to be answered on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Elizabeth gripped the phone more tightly, relief flooding through her. “Andrew, honey, it's Mom.”

“Mom! Where are you? Me and Dad have been so worried! We waited and waited for you to come
to Twin Oaks, and when you didn't come, we came back home.”

Elizabeth was so grateful to hear his voice she didn't even take the time to correct his grammar. “It's a long story, sweetheart, but I'll be home sometime this evening.”

She didn't care if she had to hitchhike back, she didn't intend to spend another night away from her son. “Are you doing okay? Is your father there? Is he taking good care of you?”

“Yeah, Mom, we're fine. I saw where Dad lived when he was little and the swimming hole him and Uncle Talbot used to go to, and a whole bunch of stuff. Where are you?”

“I'll explain everything when I get there,” she replied. “Can I talk to your dad?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

There was a moment of silence, then Richard's voice came over the line. “Elizabeth, are you all right? Where are you? Is Talbot with you? We've been worried sick.”

“We're fine. Talbot is with me and I'll explain everything later this evening. Wait there for us, Richard. Don't go anywhere until I get home.”

“But where are you?” he asked.

She briefly explained what had happened.

“This is all my fault,” Richard said mournfully when she'd finished. “You're mad at me, aren't you?”

“No, I'm not mad. You couldn't have known the plane was going to crash.”

“Yeah, but you're mad about me picking up Andrew without asking you first.”

Elizabeth sighed wearily. “We'll deal with that later, Richard. At the moment, I don't have the energy. We should be back sometime this evening and we'll talk then.”

She hung up and headed for the shower, relieved that Andrew was okay and confident Richard could handle his son until she got home.

Moments later, she stood beneath a hot, but sporadic spray, soaping liberally with the tiny bar of soap the motel provided.

She sudsed her hair twice, then rinsed it thoroughly, but remained standing beneath the water, enjoying its sensuous heat. Her mind strayed. She imagined Talbot's fingers stroking her body, shooting flames of desire through her—

The soap slid from her fingers and thunked to the floor of the tub. What on earth was she thinking? Apparently the days and nights in the woods had done something dreadful to her brain.

She shut off the water and reached for one of the thin, white towels. She didn't want to think about Talbot, and she certainly didn't want to envision his long, strong fingers dancing over her skin.

She dried herself briskly, wishing she could rid herself of thoughts of Talbot as effectively as she
banished the moisture from her skin. But he refused to be exiled from her mind.

She'd fallen asleep in his arms the night before and slept without dreams, without fears, reassured by his strength. But it was more than the mere memory of that strength that now caused her heart to beat a little more rapidly, her body temperature to raise by what felt like several degrees.

She had always known she suffered a strong physical attraction to Talbot, but that attraction had been tempered by the fact that she'd been a married woman. A woman married to Talbot's brother. She wanted to dislike Talbot, knew it would be a defense against the crazy feelings roaring through her.

But it was difficult to sustain dislike when you'd slept in a man's arms, learned nuances of his personality you'd never known before, seen a glimmer of his vulnerabilities.

Dressing quickly, she gave a prayer of thanks that her overnight case contained a clean pair of jogging pants and T-shirt.

By the time she'd brushed her hair almost dry and added a touch of lipstick, she felt back in control, and inappropriate thoughts of Talbot were tucked firmly away. All she wanted was something to eat and a fast ride back to Kansas City and her son.

She grabbed her overnight case and left the room, then went in search of room 110. When she found it, she knocked loudly. The door opened, and all her
inappropriate thoughts concerning Talbot came crashing back.

It was obvious he'd just gotten out of the shower. Crisp new blue jeans rode low on his lean hips, and his bare chest displayed sinewy muscle and a liberal sprinkling of dark curly hair.

His hair was slicked back and half his face was covered with shaving cream. He motioned her inside, then headed back to the bathroom. “Have a seat. I'll be with you in a minute.”

Elizabeth felt as if she didn't breathe until the bathroom door closed and he was no longer in her vision. Every molecule of air in the room smelled of him, a crisp, clean masculine scent that stirred her senses.

She sat down at the small round table in the corner of the room, trying to dispel the evocative image of his broad chest, his flat abdomen and those lean hips. Dressed, Talbot McCarthy was sharp and stylish and coolly attractive. Half-dressed, he was sexy and hot and definitely dangerous.

What was happening to her? What on earth was wrong with her that she couldn't get these thoughts out of her head? He was her ex-brother-in-law, for goodness' sake, a man who had been cold and distant during the course of her marriage to his brother.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he left the bathroom, his bare chest now covered with a pristine T-shirt. “Where did you get the clean clothes?” she
asked, seeking any conversation that would settle her jumpy insides.

“The owner of the motel sent his son to run a few errands for me. Right now he's arranging for a rental car, and he should be here any moment with our meals.”