When Lightning Strikes

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I asked you for help," she said. "You said no, so I was going alone."

He drew back from her, just enough so that he could look into her eyes. "Alone." The word was a curse. "You don't get it, do you? There is no alone for you, Lainie. You belong to me."

"Dream on."

Softer. Closer. "You belong to me, Lainie. I could do anything to you in here and no one would stop me." His lips almost touched hers. "Anything . .."

"There's nothing that can make me belong to you, Killian. Believe me, I know. I can survive anything. No matter what you do, I'll escape. You can't watch me every minute of every day."

"Oh, really? I could tie you to the bed."

Fear spilled through Lainie in an ice-cold wash. She stiffened, tried to pretend the threat meant nothing, that it didn't frighten her. She looked up at him suddenly, caught his gaze, and saw in the narrowing of his eyes that she'd failed, that he saw her fear.

He pulled back, frowning. "You can't leave here, Lainie."

Can't leave. The two words scared her more than she would have thought possible. She thought of Kelly coming home to an empty house, and she started to shake. With great effort, she lifted her heavy chin and

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stared up at him. Her eyes glazed with tears. "I want to go home. Is that so impossible for you to believe?"

He stared down at her, and she thought for one insane moment that he was going to touch her. But he didn't, he remained still and stiff. Then he grabbed her arm and led her toward the bed, shoving her down on the lumpy mattress.

"Please," she said again. The word came out throaty and harsh.

He flinched and grabbed a pair of pants. Stabbing his legs into them, he buttoned the fly and sat across from her. The mattress sagged and the bed creaked beneath his weight. "Who are you?"

She stared down at her hands, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm no threat to you or the men. If you take me back to the Flats, I'll never say a word about this place."

He leaned back against the skinned log bedpost and studied her. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. "Everyone knows where this place is. Our safety is not in the secrecy, but in the defendability."

"Oh." It was all she could manage.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly she looked up into his face. He was staring down at her, his eyes narrowed and dark. There was an intensity in his look that pulled the breath from her body and left her feeling strangely exposed.

His hold on her eased slightly. He drew back, watching her closely. "If you've got a story to tell, lady, you'd better tell it now."

"You wouldn't believe me," she said softly, depressed by the truth of her words.

"Are you so sure?"

She gave a sharp, bitter laugh. "Believe me, I'm sure. / don't believe me."

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He let her go and walked to the table. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and crossed his arms. Then he looked at her, and this time there was no compassion in his gaze, no softness or caring or concern. There was only a searing coldness that seemed to cut through the distance between them. He looked every inch the outlaw, the man used to getting what he wanted with a loaded gun.

"Tell me," he said, and Lainie knew in that second that she would lose. Whatever battle she waged with this man, she would lose. Her only hope lay in telling him the truth, and hoping that the man she'd seen on the ledge really existed. That deep inside the outlaw was the remnant of the lawman he'd once been.

She swiped at her tears, hoping he hadn't noticed, but of course, he had. He noticed everything. "It started two days ago. In 1994."

Chapter Eleven

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"What?"