Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (8 page)

After supper, Jeb helped her with the dishes. Once everything was cleaned and dried, they sat up in bed to watch television for an hour or so. Now that she knew how he felt about her, Hannah was content to cuddle next to his long frame, resting her head on that perfect spot between his shoulder and neck, and lay there with her eyes closed.

Reveling in his warmth and hard body. Listening to the steady beat of his heart. Breathing in his piney scent that surrounded him like it was some sort of cologne or soap he used—which it wasn't. He preferred the unscented brands in his shaving cream and such, and that was fine with her. It allowed his own wonderful body musk to come to the fore.

Yet as comfortable and comforting curled up next to him was, she couldn't stop the growing heat slowly devouring her.

A heat from sexual hunger and raw need. Too many times she was forced to curl her fingers into tight fists to keep her hands from roaming over his body. Especially over his flat stomach and the bulge in the front of his jeans he couldn't disguise.

What she couldn't figure out was why he didn't take her to bed and make love to her. The man claimed to love her. Love her enough to want her to stay with him and make a home together here in Tumbril Harbor.

Her thoughts went off in a different direction. Maybe he was one of those old-fashioned guys who believed in marriage 106

before sex. But Jeb hadn't mentioned marriage. And neither had Carl, and he had given her almost the same line when he had wanted her to go back to Laughlin with him ... and see how that ended up?

Yeah, but you were already suspicious of Carl and his temper. If Jeb had a temper, she had yet to see it. If he got angry, it was slow burning. Goodness knew, if she had confessed to Carl that she had gone out of the bungalow to use the phone and to see Mrs. Newburg, he would have smacked her around for disobeying him. Jeb hadn't. In fact, he had seemed more concerned and fearful than angry.

He shifted slightly, crossing one ankle over the other. She felt a pressure on the crown of her head when he kissed her.

Hannah closed her eyes, smiling. He kissed like he was afraid of hurting her. That was okay ... for now. She could imagine what his mouth would do to her once she was well again.

She wanted him to take her, and claim her, and prove his feelings for her in the most primal way possible. With strength and force, but with utmost tenderness.

Sliding her eyes to look up at his face, he grew aware of her stare and glanced down at her. He grinned. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing. I'm just enjoying holding you."

He gave a little grunt before turning his attention back to the program, but his arm pressed against her a little more firmly. His hand never strayed from her waist, although every now and then his fingers would lightly stroke her above the waistband of her shorts. When he did, she nearly melted.

God, what she wouldn't give to have him dip those long, 107

broad fingers between her legs where she was steadily growing wetter and hotter with each passing minute.

She noticed he preferred the documentaries on the PBS

channels, and the science and exploratory shows more than dramas and silly sitcoms Carl had watched. That was fine with her. She was learning to enjoy finding out that penguins incubated their eggs on top of their feet, and other stuff like that.

The sun set a little before eight. Jeb liked to keep the window near the bed open. He liked to smell the forest. They could also watch the last rays of the sun glance off the opposite bedroom wall and fade away with an orange goodbye.

As he had the last few nights, Jeb grew more restless at dusk. Tonight was no different. As soon as the show Denizens of the Deep was over, he released her, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and began to put on his boots.

"Going running?"

"Yeah." Sitting up, he half-turned and reached over to pat her hand that lay on the coverlet. "Why don't you go ahead and shower while I'm gone? And don't—"

"...Forget to take your medicine," she intoned with him.

"All right. But, Jeb? We have a lot more to talk about."

"I know." He nodded. "It can wait."

She sat up, crossing her legs Indian-style. "Yeah, most of it can wait. Just answer me one thing, though, before you leave."

He waited, giving her that patient stare she knew too well.

"When are we going to make love?"

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What she didn't expect to see was a flash of real pain in his wonderfully strange eyes.

"Hannah ... can we talk about this later?"

"Sure. Of course. I'm just wanting to know if we're going to make love. That's all. I don't need a date or a time, or to make any kind of appointment. Just tell me if we're ever going to make love because, to be frank..." She reached out to touch his shirt sleeve. Her voice dropped, echoing her need. "...I'm dying to feel you inside me right now."

Another emotion blazed momentarily in his gold-flecked eyes. Desire, mixed with controlled lust. He was deliberately keeping himself on the edge, and again she could not figure out why. Maybe it was a religious thing. Maybe it was nothing more than a personal thing with him. But at least she had told him she wanted him. The rest would be his decision.

"Yes. We're going to make love. Soon," he added, almost making it sound like an afterthought.

He got up from the bed and walked over to the door where he paused. Turning back to her, Jeb tossed her a feeble smile.

"I'm sorry I can't give you anything more definite. But it will happen, Hannah. I promise."

A light bulb suddenly turned on inside her. "Jeb, are you a virgin?" Of course! It would explain a lot.

That bubble burst when he slowly shook his head. "No.

Why do you need to know?"

"Then ... can I ask when the last time was you slept with a woman?"

His grin broadened. "I thought I slept with one last night, or have you forgotten?"

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"That's not what I meant, and you know it. If you're not a virgin, when did you last make love?" She squinted at him slightly. "You've only made love to women, right? Not to other men."

The remark had him stiffening his back. "We ... no. Yes, I mean..." He sighed and hung his head as if inspecting the toes of his boots. Finally he looked back at her. "It has been nearly ten years since I loved a woman. I have never touched a man in that way, although on my w—in my country, the men have no qualms about demonstrating their affection for each other. Not in that manner, however." He bit his lips, adding, "Why are you asking me this now?"

She was still reeling from the fact it had been ten years since he was physical with another woman. Ten years? Why so long? Had he been a monk or something before leaving the order?

There was so much she didn't know about this man she had fallen in love with. Fallen truly in love with, not with the

"get me out of here" infatuation she realized she'd felt for Carl.

"I'm asking because you told me you loved me."

"I do," he interrupted.

"Then why are you holding back? Love isn't just an emotion. It's also a physical response two people share. The physical act cements the emotional one. At least it does here in America. I don't know how your values differ where you're from..." Hannah trailed off as it suddenly dawned on her.

Maybe he was reticent because of how he had been raised.

After all, he was a foreigner. It was very likely he believed in 110

courting her in a different manner. "Never mind," she quickly said, pasting what she hoped would look like a warm smile to her face. Thank goodness it didn't hurt anymore to smile or laugh. "Go on. Enjoy your run. I'll wait up until you get back."

She could literally see him relax when she backed away from her interrogation. "You need the rest, and I have to be at the mill before seven," he responded. "I won't be long.

Don't wait up if you get sleepy."

Before she could say anything more, he slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

Hannah had no idea when he got back to the cabin. After he left, she took her shower and crawled into bed to watch some more television. Unfortunately there wasn't anything worth viewing, so she'd turned it off and slid under the covers.

She was vaguely aware of Jeb coming in and dumping his clothes in the chair by the small writing table. It was a habit of his. Habits she was growing accustomed to. Like the fact he went commando. At least not boxers or briefs. Initially she had been surprised when she had gone to the laundromat to wash their clothes. In the end, she had put it down in the Odd Because They Didn't Do It Like That In His Country column and let it go.

He took a quick shower. Very quick. The man wasted no time dawdling in the bathroom. While he was in the bathroom, she lay with her back to the door, hoping he wouldn't notice her playing 'possum. She had taken pain medication, but not the one with the sleeping agent in it. For one thing, she was afraid of becoming addicted to it, even 111

though the label assured her she wouldn't. For another, she was curious to know how long he stayed away. What time did he return? Having Carl not come in until nearly two-thirty or three most nights, and knowing he would usually find something to get angry about when he did so he could rough her up had left her wary, but not afraid. She knew Jeb would never hurt her. He would never raise a fist to her. Still, she was curious.

When he disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door, she peered at the clock on the nightstand. Eleven seventeen. Late, but not unreasonably so. That was good. Jeb was an early riser, getting out of bed before the sun rose.

When she had worked at the diner, she'd had to get up even earlier. If Carl had forced himself on her, or put a few more marks on her when he had come home from the bars, it had taken everything out of her to crawl out of bed with barely three hours of sleep and go to work a full eight-hour shift.

Many evenings she had gone home and simply turned over her tips to him before he asked, just so he would go ahead and leave. Leave so she could go to bed and rest before he got back home, and the cycle would continue.

Without thinking, she reached down between the bed and nightstand to feel the paper sack still sitting where she'd first put it. She had given Carl all her tips ... except for one. She never gave him the five dollars Jeb always left her at breakfast. Sometimes it was a fiver, sometimes five ones.

Sometimes bills and coins combined. But always five dollars.

Five dollars for a meal that never added up to that much to 112

begin with. It was that money she had started to squirrel away.

At first she couldn't understand why. Maybe deep down, she couldn't bear the thought of giving Carl something that had come from Jeb. Nevertheless, she had taken the money and stashed it in an old sweet potato can that had a plastic lid, and hidden it on the bottom shelf in the back underneath the cash register.

Five mornings a week for five months the money added up. She probably had several hundred dollars accumulated.

She didn't know for sure; she had never stopped to count it.

Barb was the only other person who knew she had it, which was why she hadn't been surprised when the woman had gathered it up and given it to Jeb when he had told Barb he was taking Hannah away.

The water turned off. A minute later, the door to the bathroom opened. Hannah heard him stop in the doorway and sniff. The room smelled of pine. It was a clean smell she also enjoyed. Not quite like his own personal smell, but close.

Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep as the mattress tilted when he crawled in beside her. A double bed didn't give them much room to stretch out. And Jeb was a big man anyway.

Her mind changed gears as she envisioned what other parts of his anatomy were big. Like that bulge in the front of his pants she had seen on other occasions. The same bulge she had felt shoving into her stomach. The mere thought of him sliding it into her was enough to put a huge smile on her face and a tingle between her thighs.

Soon. Soon.

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Her eyes opened when the wall of his back touched hers. If the man didn't wear any underwear ... what did he wear to bed?

Her face flamed. One thing she had quickly noticed was that he always made certain she was asleep when he came to bed, and didn't awaken until he left it. Last one in and first one out, with her blissfully unaware. It was probably another reason why he insisted on her taking the pain capsules with the sleeping agent. A reason now very clear.

The man slept in the nude.

Hannah stifled the groan rising in her throat. What she wouldn't give to be able to reach over with her hand and run her palms over his hard muscles. Down his waist. Over those narrow hips and thighs before wandering across those buttocks that drew her attention every time he turned his back to her.

He shifted to get comfortable. The bed jiggled in response.

A warmth spread across her skin from head to toe. His warmth. He was probably lying on his side, facing away from her. Presently she felt a certain lightness come over him, and she realized he was asleep. Almost instantly, he had gone to sleep. How was he able to do that?

Taking a slow, deep breath, she carefully rolled over and opened her eyes. The room was pitch dark except for the pale glow of moonlight filtering through the trees. Jeb was a large, wide figure in front of her. Without thinking, Hannah raised her hand and touched his back. Her fingertips barely grazed the top of his spine. Lightly running over the ridges. The 114

sharp little peaks rose along his spine like thick quills. Or plates.

What?!

Hannah jerked her hand upward as she whirled around and searched for the lamp on the nightstand. She fumbled for a second with the tiny pull chain before the forty-watt bulb came on. Squinting against the sudden brightness, she turned back around to see what it was she had touched.

A monstrous creature with shiny, dark green skin reared up to stare back at her. Dimly her mind took in the sight of its bald head and the pointed rows of teeth, and she screamed.