Whispers in the Dark (17 page)

We got out of the truck and met at the front of it. “Thanks for the ride,” I said. “And the driving lesson.”

“My pleasure.”

We gazed at each other for a long moment. The faint light spilling from the visitors center window highlighted one side of his face, tracing the high cheekbone and strong jaw. His lips curved, and his dark eyes seemed filled with promises.

Wind ruffled my hair and caressed my cheeks. I felt a charge of electricity in the air—or maybe it was just in me. The night seemed touched with magic, full of possibilities. Nerves tingled along my skin as I held his gaze and said, “I guess I owe you. Unless you’ve decided on a payment?”

He gave a husky chuckle. “Better not ask that now.”

I took a quick breath and stepped forward to close the gap between us. I lifted a hand to his chest and smiled up into his face. “Well, then, here’s a tip.”

He dipped his head to meet me as I rose up to kiss him. Our lips brushed, retreated. His arms went around me, pulling me close. I slid my hands over his shoulders and met his mouth. One of us moaned with pleasure, I wasn’t sure which. Maybe both.

The world spun in lazy circles, as if we were dancing to music from the stars. Then a warm hand slid over my butt and pressed me tight against him. My legs went weak, and I knew I’d sink to the ground if he didn’t have a hold of me. My breasts pressed against his hard chest and sparked with heat as if the layers of fabric between us had vanished.

I slid my hand into his hair, wanting to pull him even closer. He shifted the angle of his head and deepened the kiss. I felt like I was being devoured, and I wanted to wrap myself around him and never let go.

He eased back and brushed feathery kisses across my lips, then planted a warm, firm kiss to my cheekbone and let out a faint sigh. He loosened his grip, making a little space between us, his hands sliding to my hips. I was glad he didn’t let go, since I wasn’t sure I could stand without help. I dragged my heavy eyelids open and rubbed my lips together, still tasting him. “Wow.”

He laughed. “You can say that again. I’ve been looking forward to that for a long time.”

“You’ve only known me for three days.”

“It seems like much longer. Can I assume this other guy is out of the picture?”

“What other guy?” I smiled. “He was never really in the picture, just a way of passing some time. I found a much better hobby.”

He drew me close again, but gently, and I snuggled against his shoulder with a murmur of pleasure. His hand brushed down my hair, and he kissed my forehead. “I’m looking forward to doing this again sometime soon.”

I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder, then nipped lightly at his neck just above the collarbone and felt him tremble. “But not tonight?”

“It’s raining.”

“It is?” I turned my face away from the protection of his body and felt a drop hit my cheek. “I guess it is.”

“I don’t think we’ll get a big storm, probably just a little drizzle, but you’d better get tucked away inside your tent and make sure everything is covered up.”

I sighed. That sounded practical, but I didn’t feel practical. I didn’t want to back away. How could he? I swallowed and forced myself to speak. “Are you backing off because of what happened to me?”

“You mean the attack? Partly. But that’s only one reason I want to take my time with you. You’re special, Kylie. This is special. We don’t need to rush.”

I looked up into his face, saw the way his eyes caressed me, the way his lips curved in a smile that left me weak with desire and strong with joy. I felt something shift in my heart as a lock I hadn’t even known was there broke open, and suddenly I had more room to let him in. But he was right—this was too important to rush. I smiled back at him. “So what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“I don’t care, so long as I can do it with you.”

I laughed and rose up onto my toes, squeezing him tight. “Then I guess I can let you go tonight.”

“I’ll drive you to the campground. Unless you’d rather sleep on the sofa in the office.”

I eased back from him. “No. The campground is fine, and I can walk. You go ahead and check on Jerry and get out of here before the road gets muddy.”

“I can walk over with you.”

I kissed the corner of his mouth. “And we both know that will delay you a lot longer than the time it takes to walk. We’d better say goodbye now, or I won’t want to say goodbye at all.”

He cupped my cheek in his hand, warming my chilled skin. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. When he dropped his hand, I could still feel the heat. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “Come by for coffee?”

“Absolutely.” My body still yearned for him, straining forward without conscious thought, but I knew a step back was a good idea. We had time to get to know each other, to explore each other slowly. Maybe someday I’d want to make wild love on a truck tailgate with the rain pouring down—maybe my body wanted that now—but I knew that for this first time I needed to feel safe and comfortable. Danesh was right. We didn’t need to rush.

We kissed again, slowly, tenderly, full of promise. The sizzle of sexual desire eased to a languid comfort, my limbs and eyelids heavy, so I just wanted to snuggle up and go to sleep. His hand stroked my back, and I almost purred.

Finally we stepped back. He glanced at the path through the woods. “You’re sure—”

I laughed. “I’m a big girl, remember? And I’ll be insulted if you act like it’s safe for you and not for me. My eyes have adjusted to the dark. I think I’ll walk along the rim trail, though, where it’s more open. Then I’ll have the lights at the campground to show the way in.”

“All right. Be safe. Goodnight.”

I smiled and waved as I headed for the canyon rim. The breeze whipped my hair around and danced over my skin, raising goosebumps, but it wasn’t really that cold. A drop of rain hit my forehead and another hit my arm. Maybe I would have that chance to dance on the cliff top in a storm after all. Wouldn’t that be something to tell Danesh in the morning?

I stopped at the canyon rim. The wind murmured in the trees behind me and made a low whistle as it rushed past the walls of the nearest ruin. The sky was almost completely dark now, just the faintest hint of red on the horizon glowing against black clouds above. I could barely see the looming silhouette of the ruined walls, mysterious and slightly threatening.

I tossed my hair back out of my face and grinned into the breeze. I wanted to see this place at all times of year, in all weather. I wanted to explore its secrets.

I wanted to belong.

“I could be happy here,” I whispered. Danesh was part of that, part of the possibilities, but that wasn’t all. I had been drawn into this world, and I wanted to stay. I was glad I had trusted the instinct that had me exploring job possibilities before I even visited.

I walked slowly along the rim path, feeling part of something larger than myself. The air smelled spicy and alive. The trees rustled and shuddered on my left; the canyon dropped away on my right, a black pit. A jagged shape loomed up, a deeper black against the darkness. Another one of the ruins—Stronghold House, the one crouched atop a huge boulder just inside the canyon rim. As I walked closer, I remembered the crevasse that separated the boulder from the rim trail. I’d have to watch my step, not get fooled into thinking the trail went closer to the ruin.

A light flickered ahead. I stopped and shook my head, wondering if staring so hard had affected my vision. I squinted and saw nothing. Just my imagination? Or somebody else out on this wild night—someone smart enough to bring a flashlight?

Where had he or she gone, then? Maybe the person had stepped into the trees or was farther down the trail and had passed behind another ruin. I waited a moment but saw nothing.

I shrugged and walked forward. Why shouldn’t someone else be out enjoying the night, as I was? Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling a bit crazy.

Drops of rain splattered my skin in fours and fives now. Unless I really was going to dance in the rain, I should get back to my tent.

Voices whispered on the breeze. I paused, listening. Just the wind, surely—but such a human sound.

So what if it was human? Maybe two people had come out with a flashlight to see the canyon at night. I had no reason to worry. I tried to ignore the prickles along my skin, blaming them on the chill breeze. The voices came again, faint and ghostly. I wouldn’t have minded the whispers so much if I could see someone, but the vague sounds were unnerving. Like someone was hiding.

I shook my head. That was just my own paranoia. Rapists might choose secluded areas for their attacks, but not this secluded. You wouldn’t set up an ambush where you might not see anyone pass by all night. If people were out, they were probably ghost hunters or New Age spiritualists or storm lovers. I should find them and make sure they weren’t planning to go into the canyon.

I strained my ears but heard nothing but the wind. I took a few more steps, squinting into the darkness. Shapes were flat and blurred in the drizzle, without edges or depth. I shivered and wished I had a sweatshirt, or at least jeans and real shoes.

My backpack—I’d left it in Danesh’s truck. I paused, half turned back. I hadn’t heard his truck leave, though I might not with the wind. I could go back for my pack and mention that I thought someone was in or near the canyon. It was really his responsibility, not mine.

I imagined myself explaining. “I thought I saw a light and heard voices, but then I didn’t.” Would he think it was some ploy, playing the damsel in distress? Would it add an awkward epilogue to an evening that had ended so well? Would I get over there to find Danesh and Jerry gone and just have to walk back on my own again?

I stood on the path, hugging myself for warmth as the cold wind blew past my bare legs. Go forward, go back, run for my campsite? I took a deep breath and blew it out. Why had I gotten so indecisive?

Forget the question. I knew why. But if I didn’t want to be a victim, I had to stop acting like one. I couldn’t go running for help or hiding in my bed every time something freaked me out a little. I couldn’t give men all the power, the power to scare me and the power to protect me. Both made me weak.

It was just a tourist out at night, no monster or ghost or alien. No rapist lurking in the bushes in the off chance I’d wander by. I would investigate, deal with the situation should there be any need to do so, get help if I couldn’t handle it alone, and then go make myself a hot drink before bed. I refused to be scared away from a place I enjoyed, a place I wanted to work and tour.

“Pull up your big-girl panties and deal,” I muttered.

I walked forward. A sudden break in the clouds let the moon shine through. Falling House seemed to jump out of the darkness, a jagged silhouette of broken walls dark against ghostly clouds.

And then I saw something else—a wooden board, like a bridge, set across the gap between the canyon rim and the base of the ruins.

Chapter 19

I stared at the board, wondering why on earth somebody would put it there. To get to the ruin, obviously, but why? Who would be out exploring the ruins on a night like this? Granted, they’d be less likely to be caught after hours, with the staff gone—

And then I remembered Jerry. Surely his unexpected presence and the board’s were too much to be coincidence. Maybe he’d received a last-minute report of some kind of damage. Maybe he’d gone home on time and then been called back here by some complaint from Robert. Or maybe someone had requested special permission to go out for sunset photos and Jerry had arranged it.

I put a hand over my mouth to cover a giggle. Or maybe Jerry and Maureen had come out here for some hanky panky in a romantic, if peculiar, new location.

And Danesh would be waiting at the visitors center and wondering what had happened to Jerry.

I hesitated again. Go tell Danesh what I suspected? He’d probably want to come see for himself. If it was Jerry and Maureen, we didn’t need to disturb them, but if it wasn’t... well, it would be better to be sure.

I turned toward the visitors center and then swore. Why did I have this instinctive reaction to turn to a man for help? Danesh would probably like it, but that wasn’t a pattern I wanted to start. I was a perfectly capable, grown woman. I was tired of living in fear and letting men control my actions, one way or another. I could quietly take a look on my own. I wouldn’t try to tackle a gang of rock thieves single-handedly, but I could at least look before panicking and running for help.

I put a foot cautiously on the board. I’d just sneak across and listen long enough to confirm my suspicions. I really did not want to hear, let alone see, anything explicit between Jerry and Maureen, but I didn’t see a better answer.

The board seemed sturdy enough, and obviously if it had held Jerry’s weight, it would hold mine. I took another cautious step out. Just a few more to go.

The moonlight vanished like a light going out. I froze, my arms out to the sides. With no visual frame of reference, I had a sudden sense of vertigo and swayed. I bit my lip and concentrated on the feel of the board beneath my feet. I was almost thankful for the thin sandals that let me feel the board’s slight curve from my weight.

I knew two or three more steps would get me across. It didn’t make sense to stand here balanced over this chasm and wait for the moonlight to come back. Turning around or backing up would be even more dangerous. I had to keep going forward.