Stranger in my Arms (7 page)

S
now flurries intensified until a steady snowfall forced Merrick to slow down to less than forty miles an hour. He'd hoped to reach Bolivar before nightfall, but the weather had conspired against him. He'd dropped Alex off at her condo, returned to the hotel, packed and checked out of the Hyatt, then stopped at a supermarket to pick up dairy items before driving back to get her. Alex was ready when he arrived, and ninety minutes after they'd agreed to spend the next four days in Bolivar they were on their way to the picturesque hamlet nestled in a valley less than three miles from the Allegheny Mountains.

Alex glanced out the side window, watching the topography change the farther they ventured into West Virginia. Her ears popped with the higher elevation. There was enough light left to marvel at the natural splendor of the unspoiled, rugged wilderness that hadn't changed in more than a century.

“It looks so peaceful here,” she said reverently.

Smiling, Merrick took a quick glance at his passenger before he returned his gaze to the winding road. “It is.” It was quiet, remote, and if he didn't turn on a radio or the television he tended to lose track of the days of the week.

“What made you decide to move to West Virginia?”

Merrick knew he had to open up to Alex and reveal a little of his past or she would never trust him. And he wanted her to trust him because his feelings were changing, intensifying. He'd told her all he wanted was for them to be friends. She'd become his friend and unknowingly more. It was one thing to mouth the word and another to experience emotions that would shock her.

He wasn't certain when his feelings toward her had changed. One morning he woke from a disturbing dream that left him reeling from the sexual images and his own driving need to make love to Alexandra Cole. The harder he tried to ignore the truth, the more it nagged at him. His initial admission that he wasn't interested in her romantically, his vow not to become involved, was shattered completely when he'd asked her to come home with him.

“I suppose you could say I was running away,” he said truthfully.

Alex shifted on her seat, turning to stare at Merrick's profile. His taut expression was one of pained tolerance. A shiver snaked its way down her body. Whenever she posed a question about his past she felt him withdraw from her. She turned away from the glum-faced man. The seconds ticked off, the increasing silence inside the vehicle deafening.

Merrick downshifted as he maneuvered around a sharp curve, a stretch of road locals referred to as Deadman's Curve. It veered sharply to the right, and then without warning the grade dropped off before the road veered left. Viewed from the air the road resembled a large undulating snake. A smile found its way through his closed expression with Alex's audible gasp.

Reaching over to his right, he caught her left hand and held it until she unclenched her fingers. “Relax, baby. I've driven this road enough to do it with my eyes closed.”

“Please don't close your eyes, Merrick.”

Not willing to avert his attention from the snow-covered roadway, he squeezed her fingers. “Don't worry, Ali. I'd never let anything happen to you.”

“Promise?”

His smile widened. “Promise.”

Alex alternated closing her eyes and holding her breath as Merrick navigated sharply to the right, then left as the wiper blades worked furiously to keep the windshield free of snow.

Half a mile later, Merrick left the paved roadway, maneuvering onto a narrow rutted path bordered on both sides with towering pine trees. Within minutes, the overgrowth of trees and shrubs gave way to an open meadow. The outline of a two-story house was visible in the steady beam of headlights. He slowed, coming to a complete stop under a carport.

“Aren't you going to park in the garage?” Alex pointed to a two-car garage about fifty feet from the house.

“There's no room. I'll show you what's in there tomorrow.” He cut the engine, got out and came around to assist her.

Alex waited for Merrick to open her door; she extended her arms. He lifted her effortlessly, setting her on her feet. If it hadn't been for the truck's headlights and falling snow it would've been pitch-dark. There were no streetlamps or lights from nearby homes. Merrick lived in the middle of nowhere. He admitted moving to the wilderness because he'd been running away. Running away from what or whom?

Clutching his arm, she followed him up several steps to a porch; squinting, Alex tried seeing beyond the curtain of white but encountered eerie nothingness. All of her senses were heightened when she heard the distinctive sound of a lock opening followed by a soft beeping that was silenced when Merrick punched in a code for a security system. Within seconds light illuminated the first floor.

“Come in,” Merrick urged. “You're letting out the heat.”

She stomped the snow off her feet and walked into a living room with modern functional furniture. The saddle-tan leather sofa and love seat complemented the heavy oaken tables, giving the space a masculine feel. Polished pale pine floors and wide windows covered with bamboo blinds in a straw-yellow shade further enhanced an atmosphere of openness.

“It's wonderful.” Her voice echoed awe.

Merrick stared at Alex, complete surprise on his face. “You like it?”

She smiled at him. “Of course I like it.” Her smile faded as quickly as it'd appeared. “Why did you think I wouldn't?”

“I was under the impression you'd think it too rustic.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Where you live is rustic, not your home. Can I see the rest of it?”

“Sure. The kitchen is to your right and the pantry and laundry are off the back along with the family room. The bedrooms are upstairs in the loft.”

Shrugging off her coat, she handed it to Merrick. “Can you please hang this up?”

He took her coat, snapping a smart salute. “Ma'am, yes, ma'am!”

“Show-off,” she crooned as she made her way in the direction he'd indicated.

Merrick felt an overwhelming sense of pride that Alex liked his home. There were times when he felt it was much too large for one person, but he'd resisted sharing his life and home with a woman.

He'd never thought of himself as husband or father material because of his turbulent childhood. How could he know where he was going when he hadn't known who he was or where he'd come from?

He'd languished in a foundling hospital, then a group home, and at the age of four he was placed with his first foster family. He'd overheard the social worker tell his foster parents that a priest had found him wrapped in a blanket, umbilical cord still attached, under a pew in a South Texas church only five miles from the Mexican border. There was a bloodstained note tucked into the blanket that read:
Please take care of my son—Victoria Grayslake.
Father Merrick had cleaned and baptized the infant, giving him his first name before calling the authorities. Two days after his birth Merrick Grayslake became a ward of the state of Texas.

He didn't know what prompted him to bring Alex home with him, but with his rapidly changing feelings for her he didn't want to spend time analyzing everything he did. All he wanted to do was enjoy whatever time they had together before she left the country. He walked out of the house and returned to the truck to get their luggage and perishable foodstuffs.

 

Alex lay on the sofa, eyes closed and her head resting on Merrick's thigh. She'd toured his house, falling in love with the massive wood-burning stoves in the kitchen and family room. The second-story loft contained three large rooms. Merrick had claimed the largest as his bedroom. Another had been set up as a guest room and the third was filled with boxes and metal file cabinets. Whitewashed walls, wood floors covered with colorful rugs and fireplaces had turned his home into a perfect getaway retreat.

“Did you build this place?”

He combed his fingers through her mussed curls. “No. I bought it for a fraction of its worth when the original owner died two days after he took possession. His widow, who never wanted to live here, said it was cursed. She moved out, leaving all of the furnishings, and never looked back.”

Alex opened her eyes and stared up at him looking down at her. “I thought you'd decorated it.”

“No. I wouldn't know where to begin. All that talk about fabrics and colors confuse the hell out of me.”

“Where did you live before you moved here?”

“I rented the cottage on the property of someone I'd met in the Corps.”

She smiled. “You were a marine?” Merrick nodded. Sitting up, she gave him a direct stare. “Were you really into that esprit de corps and
Semper fidelis
indoctrination?”

His luminous eyes widened until she could see their hoary depths. “Once a marine, always a marine.”

Alex felt the chill of his words as acutely as if he'd struck her. The man with whom she'd found herself enthralled had morphed into a stranger, shedding his warmth like a reptile shedding its skin.

“No disrespect intended.”

“And none taken,” he countered quickly.

Pushing off the sofa, Alex knew it was time to retreat before she lost her temper and said something she wouldn't be able to retract. “Good night, Merrick.”

He stood up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Good night, Ali.”

Merrick felt as if he'd been punched in the gut when she headed toward the staircase. Why, he mused, did he keep pushing her away? Why, when it was the last thing he wanted to do?

Taking three long strides, he stopped her retreat, reaching for her upper arm and turning her around. His hands moved up to cradle her face. Slowly, methodically, his head came down and he took her mouth in a drugging, caressing kiss that told her wordlessly how much he wanted, how much he needed her.

Alex held on to Merrick's shirt like a drowning swimmer caught in a riptide. His warmth, his smell, the strength in his hard lean body seeped into her like water through a porous fabric, soaking and becoming one. Standing on tiptoe, she returned the kiss, her lips parting as delicious sensations raced from her mouth downward.

Merrick placed tiny kisses along the column of Alex's scented neck, his teeth nibbling softly at the base of her throat. Tightening his hold on her body, he lifted her off her feet until her head was level with his. He took her mouth again, devouring its softness. He'd tasted her, but instead of sating his hunger, it increased. If he could he would've devoured all of her.

He felt the flesh between his thighs stir and knew if he didn't stop what he'd begun he would do something he would regret for the rest of his life. Lowering Alex until her feet touched the floor, he pulled back. Passion had darkened her face and her eyes; he couldn't pull his gaze away from her slightly swollen mouth. A spurt of desire shot through his groin when he realized Alex was a woman who should be made love to—every day and every night. Her dark beauty smoldered with a sensuality that couldn't be learned or taught.

A hint of a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “Good night, Ali.”

Backing away, Alex wrinkled her nose. If they hadn't stopped when they did, there was no doubt they would end up in bed together. She wanted to arrive in Mexico City with memories of the two weeks she'd spent with her friend and not the few days she'd shared a bed with her lover.

“Good night, Merrick.”

She turned and made her way up the staircase, feeling the heat from the silver orbs on her back. When she reached the top, she turned and glanced down to find that Merrick hadn't moved. Even from this distance she could see the banked flames of desire in his expression.

Forcing herself to look away, she walked down the hallway until she reached her bedroom. Her hands and knees were trembling uncontrollably as she fell across the bed and pressed her face into the pillow.

She wanted him; she wanted Merrick Grayslake more than she'd ever wanted any man in her life. It was good that she was leaving the country, because to remain would prove disastrous to the plans she'd made for herself. And her plans did not include taking a lover or falling in love.

 

It was minutes after sunrise when Merrick walked into the kitchen. Alex sat on a tall stool at the cooking island, drinking coffee and concentrating intently on his handheld
New York Times
Sudoku. A smile crinkled the lines around his eyes as he crept silently across the room, swept her off the stool and lifted her high in the air. Bending slightly, he tossed her up like a rag doll and caught her.

Alex let out a bloodcurdling scream as her arms flailed wildly. “Stop, Merrick! Please put me down!”

Cradling her to his chest, Merrick settled her on the stool, his arms going around her body in a comforting gesture. “Good morning, baby.”

Alex's right hand curled into a fist, her eyes narrowing. “Don't you dare good morning me!”

“You want to hit me?”

Baring her teeth, she glared at him. “I want to hurt you real bad, Merrick Grayslake, for scaring the hell out of me.”