She gulped and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close out the disturbing image. It didn’t help. The picture stayed in her mind with unsettling clarity.
.She told herself she was suddenly hot because the cabin was stuffy with all the doors and windows closed. There was no air-conditioning, no fan to move the air. She didn’t want to believe her sudden heat had anything to do with the mental image of Gabe lathering himself with soap.
She ached. Until Gabe had held her while she’d cried a few hours earlier, it had been two and a half years since she’d allowed herself human contact. She’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to be touched. Hugged. Stroked.
Loved.
And, oh, God, it hurt.
This was exactly what her stalker wanted, she reminded herself despairingly. He wanted her to be achingly aware of her solitude. He wanted her to crave companionship with a need that bordered physical pain. He wanted her to know exactly how it felt to be totally alone, even when surrounded by others. He would be delighted to know how much she was suffering now.
What had she done to him to deserve this?
“Page?”
She jumped at the unexpected sound of Gabe’s voice from the shadows. “What?”
“You okay?”
She wondered if she’d made some sound in her misery. “I’m fine,” she said.
“I’ll be on the couch, if you need me.”
She nodded against the pillows, then remembered that he couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness. “All right”
“G’night.”
“Good night, Gabe.”
He hesitated in the doorway a moment longer, as though there was something else he wanted to say, and then he turned and moved away. Page slowly let out the unsteady breath she’d been holding.
THOUGH SHE HADN’T expected to, Page slept awhile. She woke with a dry mouth and the feeling that her dreams had been disturbing, though she couldn’t remember the details. There was no clock in the bedroom, but she’d left her watch on the nightstand. She groped for it, and pushed the button to illuminate the dial.
Three a.m. Monday, she remembered.
It was hard to believe it had been Saturday morning when Gabe had found her in Des Moines. So much had happened in such a short time.
She was still tired, but she didn’t expect to go immediately back to sleep. She needed a drink of water. She wondered if she would be able to slip into the kitchen without waking Gabe.
Telling herself she shouldn’t risk it, she rolled onto her back and tried to sleep. But her thirst wouldn’t be ignored. The room seemed to get stuffier, her mouth drier. Finally she sighed, tossed the sheet aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Her socks made no sound on the hardwood floor as she tiptoed across the room to the open doorway. Gabe had apparently left a light on in the ki
tchen. Keeping her eyes fixed on that welcome glimmer, she made her way carefully past the couch where he lay, his breathing deep and even.
The dim light over the stove was burning when she entered the kitchen. She was glad Gabe had thought to leave it on. It provided all the illumination she needed to find a plastic tumbler in the cabinet and fill it with water from the tap. She tipped the glass back and drained it gratefully.
There was a tiny window over the sink, a round piece of glass that resembled a ship’s porthole. The owner hadn’t bothered to board that one, and Page stood for a moment gazing out at the moonlight silvered woods.
She saw no other lights, no evidence of any civilization near the little cabin. She was torn between optimism that the stalker would never find them in such an isolated place, and fear that there would be no one to help them if he did.
“What are you doing?”
The husky growl caught her unprepared. Page gasped and whirled, stumbling against the countertop, the plastic tumbler falling from her hand to clatter against the linoleum floor.
“It’s just me,” Gabe said, stepping into the soft light to reveal an expanse of hard bare chest above the cotton gym shorts that was all he wore. “Chill out.”
She had a hand pressed over her racing heart. She glared at him, annoyed at his casual attitude about scaring her half out of her wits. She tried to ignore how very good he looked, his tanned skin gleaming in the soft light, his coffee-brown hair tousled from sleep, his amber eyes heavy and glittering.