The Fall of Shane MacKade (The MacKade Brothers 4)

She’d reached the kitchen door and just stepped over the threshold when he caught up with her. A tornado of temper, he snagged her shoulders, whirled her around.

“Just sex and science, is that it, Doc? I hope to hell I gave you plenty of data for one of your stinking papers.”

“What are you—”

“Don’t you want one last experiment for the road?”

He dragged her up hard against him, crushed his mouth down on hers. It was brutal, and it was fierce. For the first time, she was afraid of him, and what he was capable of.

“Shane.” Shuddering, she wrenched her mouth free. “You’re hurting me.”

“Good.” But he released her, jerking away so that she nearly stumbled. “You deserve it. You cold-blooded—” He managed to stop himself before he said something he wouldn’t be able to live with later. “How can you have slept with me, have shared everything we’ve shared, and then just turn around and walk, like it meant nothing to you but a way to pass some time?”

“I thought—I thought that’s how it was done. I’ve heard people say that you stay friends with all the women you’ve—”

“Don’t throw my past up at me!” he shouted. “Damn it, nothing’s been the same since you came here. You’ve tangled up my life long enough. I want you to go. I want you out.”

“I’m going,” she managed, and took one careful step, then another, until she’d reached the doorway.

“For God’s sake, Rebecca, don’t leave me.”

She turned back, steadied herself with one hand against the jamb. “I don’t understand you.”

“You want me to beg.” The humiliation was almost as vicious as the temper. “Fine, I’ll beg. Please don’t go. Don’t walk out on me. I don’t think I can live without you.”

She put a hand to her head as she stared at him. All she could see was all that emotion swirling in his eyes. Too much emotion, impossible to decipher. “You want me to stay? But—”

“What’s the big deal about New York?” he demanded. “So they’ve got museums and restaurants. You want to go to a restaurant, I’ll take you to a damn restaurant. Now. Get your coat.”

“I—I’m not hungry.”

“Fine. You don’t need a restaurant. See?” He sounded insane, he realized. Hell, he was insane. “You’ve got that fancy computer, the modem and all those gizmos. You can work anywhere. You can work here.”

She wasn’t used to having her brain frazzled. In defense, she latched on to the last thing he’d said. “You want me to work here?”

“What’s wrong with that? You’ve been getting along here, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Leave your equipment set up everywhere.” He threw up his hands. “I don’t care.” In a lightning move, he leaped forward and lifted her off her feet with hands under her elbows. “I don’t care,” he repeated. “I’m used to it. Set up a transmitter in the hay barn, put a satellite dish on the roof. Just don’t leave.”

The first hint of a smile curved her lips. Perhaps relationships weren’t her forte, but she believed she was getting the idea. “You want me to stay here?”

“How many languages do you speak?” Sheer frustration had him shaking her. “Can’t you understand English?” He dropped her back on her feet so that he could pace. “Didn’t I just say that? I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I am. I’m not losing you,” he muttered. “I’m not losing what I have with you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I didn’t want to, but you changed everything. Now you’re in my head all the time, and the thought of you not being where I can see you or touch you rips my heart out. It rips my damn heart out!” he shouted, spinning toward her with blood in his eye. “You’ve got no right to do that to somebody, then leave!”

She started to speak, but the look on his face when she opened her mouth stopped her cold.

“I love you, Rebecca. Oh, God, I love you. And I have to sit down.”

His knees were buckling. He was sure he’d crawl next. To get some control, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Whatever the humiliation, he would take it, as long as she stayed.

Then he looked up, looked at her. And she was weeping. His heart stopped thudding, split apart and sank.

>

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve got no right to treat you this way, talk to you this way. Please don’t cry.”

She took a sobbing breath. “In my whole life, no one has ever said those words to me. Not once, in my whole life. You can’t possibly know what it’s like to hear them from you now.”