He looked around Rikki's house. His first thought was that not much decorating had taken place, but then he realized he was wrong. Judith, whoever she was, knew Rikki's need for simplicity. The walls were done in cool water tones, producing a soothing atmosphere for her. And her bathroom had been a work of art. The few pictures in the house were watercolors, depicting rain over grass or rain in the trees. Judith "saw" Rikki and designed the interior to suit her needs. He had no doubt she would see right through him and made up his mind to avoid her.
"How did you all meet?"
Rikki's fingers continued to tap a beat along her thigh. He could hear the rain respond through the open window, drumming at the roof, following the beat of her fingers.
"We met through grief counseling. It was sort of my last-ditch effort to save myself. I was fairly certain I was a sociopath or something, at least in my sleep. I didn't really want to keep living. But then I heard Lexi's story, and Judith's, as well as the others', and they didn't make me feel so alone. They believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself."
He was silent, digesting what she told him. "Rikki. Is that why you took me in? I'm not like you, honey. You didn't start those fires. I've killed men. I see the images in my head. I don't know why, but I'm not the nice man you've got in your head."
"I don't think you're a nice man," she protested.
Her vehemence made him smile all over again. "Good. I don't want you to be disappointed when we find out who I am."
"You really don't know?"
"Don't feel sorry for me, Rikki," he cautioned. "I'm glad I don't know. Spending time with you has been cleansing. I feel free. I know that probably sounds crazy, but I don't want to look at who I was, not with the things I'm seeing. How could I have ten names? I don't know what's real and what's made up. But I do know that every memory contains violence. Staying right here with you, lying here listening to the rain with you, I feel at peace. I shouldn't but I do, and I'm going to enjoy it while I have the chance. Who knows? Tomorrow a cop or someone wanting me dead might show up at your door."
"They won't, you know," she offered, turning her body slightly toward his.
She should have turned away from him. If she had any sense, his honesty should have shaken her, but Rikki didn't react like most people. Her eyes were steady on his.
"If anyone is looking for you, Lev, they'll think you died in the ocean. Everyone was gone yesterday morning. The harbor was deserted when I went out. Only Ralph was there when I came back. Ralph noticed you, but he never saw your face."
At the mention of Ralph noticing him, Lev's mind kicked into overdrive, rapidly calculating the benefits of finding Ralph and disposing of him before he could reveal Rikki hadn't been alone. It was an automatic reaction more than a conscious one, and that told him a lot about himself. Killing was a way of life. Killing was an option for removing obstacles in his path. What kind of man thought that way? Rikki had thought of herself as a sociopath because she didn't know whether or not she started fires, but she played in the rain, made water dance and composed symphonies with it. He contemplated killing.
To avoid her eyes, he covered his own with his arm. She saw into him and the last thing he wanted was for her to see him as he really was.
"What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Go to sleep, Rikki. I'll know if someone tries to come near the house."
Her fingers brushed his mouth. He felt the jolt of her touch like a lightning bolt slamming through his body. There was no gentle stirring of his body. His hard-on was immediate and painful, an aching need that encompassed body and mind. He let himself enjoy the sensation. He'd thought he was incapable of a natural erection, one not planned out, one where he hadn't set up the seduction and controlled every aspect of the scene. Rikki made him feel alive. Real. A human being.
"First tell me what's wrong."
"Damn it, can't you just go to sleep? I don't want to tell you."
"I don't want you in my bed or my house. I don't want you near my boat. That didn't stop it from happening."
"What do you want me to say? That the moment you told me Ralph saw me, I thought about killing him?" He pulled his arm away so his gaze could lock with hers--so he could see her reaction, the revulsion, the horror. He waited for her to order him to go.
Her eyes softened, and God help him, she was looking at him with compassion. "Lev, you believe someone is trying to kill you. You didn't rush off to actually do anything to Ralph." She smiled at him, her eyes as soft and as liquid as ever. "I thought about killing you numerous times, but I didn't. The jury's still out on whether I will or not."
There was a slight teasing edge to her tone. Her voice and the pad of her finger rubbing back and forth over his lips in an effort to erase his frown didn't do much for his peace of mind or his heavy erection. She put a lump in his throat the size of a golf ball, and he felt like he might be choking. He couldn't find a way to believe in himself, yet she did--this strange woman who had pulled him out of the sea.
"Do me a favor, honey," he said softly. "Go to sleep and let me watch over you with the rain. You've done so much for me, let me do this for you."
She studied his face for a long time before she nodded and turned on her side, facing away from him. When she'd removed her finger, he found he could breathe again, but his body didn't relax until long after her breathing became even. He waited even longer, until he was positive she was in a deep enough sleep, before he wrapped his arm around her waist and laid his head near her shoulder so he could breathe her in along with the scent of the rain.
6
RIKKI took her responsibilities seriously and Lev was a huge responsibility. He wasn't like owning a cat or a goldfish. She actually had to take care of him. She spent a great deal of her time muttering to herself over the next week and a half. He was unable to get up for more than fifteen minutes at a time. His headaches were horrendous and he'd discovered more aches from his battering against the rocks.
She resumed her normal routine, circling the house morning and night looking for signs of an intruder. She used every can of broth and soup Blythe had bought for her to feed the man. The first few days he ate little and slept most of the time. She worried that she needed to take him to a hospital, but each time she brought the subject up, he was adamantly against it, assuring her he would be fine.
There was one day of beautiful weather, and she thought about going to work but instead spent the day glaring at him. He seemed oblivious. Two days of high surf made it easier to bear, but by the twelfth day she couldn't stop pacing. She felt restless and out of sorts. She decided she had to leave him long enough to sit on the bluffs for a while and just breathe. At least Lev didn't want to talk. He often woke up with a gun in his hand and his eyes cold as ice as he tracked around the room. She was careful never to startle him.
He didn't seem to mind her helping him to the bathroom, and she gave him a massage twice a day. He rarely talked even then and she could tell noise hurt. She didn't mind silence, because noises often hurt her head as well. She knew she would have to find a way to get him clothes--that meant going into a store--and she wasn't ready for that kind of commitment yet. She just wanted to get him on his feet and out of her house.
She hadn't slept very well after that first night. Mostly she stayed in the hammock swing off the kitchen, or, if it was too cold, on her couch. She often paced, worried that Lev wouldn't wake up and then afraid that he would. She was so used to being alone that she was very aware of his breathing, the way he took up her air and her space. She kept the blinds down in her house, and each of her sisters called twice but they didn't ask questions.
The huge news was that a yacht had sunk off the coast in a freak accident. The yacht was owned by a Greek businessman, a billionaire, and everyone on board was lost. Naturally Rikki's sisters didn't want her going out into the ocean until it was pronounced safe, which made her want to laugh. How could going out to sea ever be considered safe?
She knew they as
sumed she wasn't working because of the yacht sinking. She didn't consider it lying that she didn't give them facts they didn't ask about. But she couldn't breathe anymore, and she had to get out of the house and go where she could see the ocean and just absorb it. That meant leaving Lev alone and unprotected. Her main worry was always fire.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pushed back his hair. The shadow on his jaw had grown into the beginnings of a real beard. "I have to leave for a little while." She knew he was awake. She'd never go near him while he was asleep, but his eyes were closed.
He didn't open them, but he caught her wrist, his fingers a shackle, preventing movement. It amazed her how he could do that, know exactly where her arm was when he had his eyes closed. And she always watched his face, not even blinking. He never so much as peeked, yet he never missed.
"Don't."
"I have to go, just for a little while. I've checked outside and no one's around. I think it's safe. I'll lock the door when I go out."
She could tell it was a struggle for him to open his eyes enough to look at her. The impact of that blue stare gave her a jolt in the vicinity of her stomach.
"You'll come back?"
"I live here." She was ashamed instantly. He seemed to need reassurance. Why was that so difficult for her? "Soon. Don't shoot anyone while I'm gone."
"Take one of my guns."
She could see the worry in his eyes and that caused some sort of meltdown in her heart. Physical reactions scared her, especially physical reactions to men. Daniel had been an excellent diver who helped perfect her diving skills. They'd spent so much time together it seemed a natural progression to get engaged. But she hadn't spent time with him off the boat. They'd talked about a future, diving together, but the one time he'd come to her small rented houseboat to spend the night, a fire had taken him.
"What are you thinking about?"
She searched his face, his eyes, not certain what she was looking for exactly. She didn't want him to die, not in a fire and not on her account.
"Rikki, I need to know."
"Why?"
"You looked sad. Upset. Did I put that look there?"
She couldn't help herself. With her free hand, she smoothed the frown from his face. "No. I am just worried about leaving you."
His fingers moved over her wrist and slid down to the palm of her hand to trace circles there. "I'm a survivor, Rikki. I'll be here. The house will be here as well. Go do what you have to, but come back to me. I won't sleep until you're back with me."
The drowning sensation was acute this time, and she jumped up, pulling away from him. As his fingers slid from her skin, her stomach did a slow somersault. She backed away from him. No one had ever made her feel the way Lev did, such a gut-wrenching physical reaction. She could barely breathe sometimes and that's why she had to leave her own house. He was forcing her out with . . . with . . . this.
She glared at him. Scowled. Her blackest, scariest, get-away-from-me-now scowl. He should have been intimidated. That practiced look worked every time. He smiled at her. Smiled. Not just with amusement, but with a drippy, dippy, you're-so-cute sort of look. She backed completely across the room to the door.
"You forgot the gun."
"I don't shoot people," she reminded him with a little sniff, and stalked out. She heard him laugh, but she didn't turn around.
The sound of his laughter was too intriguing. It set off little explosions in the vicinity of her womb. She really needed to get out of there and go sit by the sea, breathe in the fresh air and listen to the gulls. She could almost believe he was a sorcerer who had cast some sort of spell over her. Privately, she would admit to herself that she liked touching him. She never touched anyone. And she sure didn't want anyone touching her. But the feel of Lev's hands on her skin, the way he stroked his fingers over her, was mesmerizing. The reaction of her body was frightening, yet at the same time exhilarating.
She found herself almost reluctant to drive away from the property and leave him. She got out and walked around in the trees above her house, quartering the area carefully, searching for evidence of a visitor. She should have gotten a dog after all. She'd considered it, but she'd have to take care of it and it might get seasick because she'd never leave it home alone. She sighed. She was leaving Lev alone.
"But he has guns, Rikki," she reminded herself aloud. "A dog wouldn't have a gun."
Muttering curses under her breath, she marched back to her truck and drove straight to the highway. This--this indecision--was the very reason she didn't get involved with anyone. Her life was far simpler just living alone. Furious, she made up her mind to throw him out the moment--the very moment--he was able to leave.
A siren caught her attention, and she glanced behind her and swore out loud. Damn the man. He'd made her speed on top of everything else. And now she was going to have to talk to a cop. She shuddered as she pulled over and sat, teeth clenched, with her license and registration and insurance out and waiting.
She recognized Jonas Harrington as he walked up to the truck. Her heart pounded and she tasted something metallic in her mouth. She silently handed him the three documents.
"Rikki. You all right?"
She'd seen him around the village hundreds of times in the last five years. Everyone knew him. She knew he was married to Hannah Drake. Her mouth was so dry she wasn't certain she could speak. She nodded, hoping that would be enough, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.
"You were speeding, unusual for you. Everything all right? All your sisters fine?"
She swallowed and nodded.
He handed her back everything. "With our village being overrun with so many reporters, scientists and investigators, we have to be a little careful. Watch your speed."
Reporters? Scientists? Investigators? Her sisters had chatted on about the yacht that had sunk being owned by a Greek shipping magnate, but she'd only paid attention to the part about the owner having a bodyguard. She was certain Lev was the bodyguard. It would explain his presence in the sea, as well as his weapons. She stared straight ahead, keeping her death grip on the steering wheel. She was thankful Harrington wasn't giving her a ticket but sent a silent prayer that he'd go away.
"I haven't had a chance to talk with Judith but maybe you'd pass along a package to her. She's been working on a special kaleidoscope for Hannah. It's a surprise." He leaned his arms on the door and peered in at her, his eyes hidden by his dark glasses, but his expression friendly.
She swallowed and nodded again, staring straight ahead.
He laughed softly. "You talk too much, you know that?"
She turned her head then and looked at him, frowning. Maybe she should try her drop-dead scowl. But really, he was being friendly and nice. She just had to breathe. She took a deep breath and gave it a try. "I'll take it."
He smiled at her effort. The wind came up and blew at his shirt. He glanced toward where the Drake house sat up on the bluff above the ocean. "Hannah's up on the captain's walk. All of her sisters are on their honeymoon so she's visiting with her parents today. I haven't had a spare minute to get the package to Judith. It's in my car. Can you wait a second?"
Rikki felt it would be wiser not to point out that if he hadn't stopped her, he might have had the time to drop off the mysterious package to Judith himself. Since she didn't want him to change his mind about giving her a speeding ticket and she didn't mind talking to Judith, she kept her mouth firmly closed.
Jonas returned with a very small packet. He grinned at her. "These are all those little things women keep for memories. Judith had this great idea for a kaleidoscope. I wanted something extraordinary for Hannah to focus on when she's giving birth."
Rikki nodded. She had to say something. Being socially awkward didn't mean she was completely inept, and after all, she was representing Judith, not herself. Staring straight ahead, she tried a small smile, hoping he couldn't tell it was forced. "Everything Judith does is extraordinary. She'll make it sp
ecial."
He looked pleased as he patted her door with his hand and then waved to her. Rikki's hand shook as she turned the key. She was fortunate that it was Jonas who had stopped and recognized her. And she had to ask Judith about the reporters and what Jonas had been talking about. Really, she should read the paper more and at least turn on the news. She saved the newspapers for a week, just in case she wanted to read them. But they were always so depressing.
She turned off the highway to enter the village. As a rule, tourists came from all over to see the small, artsy town set on the edge of the sea. Today, it was packed. Overrun. Her pulse went into a pounding beat she felt inside her head. Ordinarily she would have driven straight to the headlands to sit overlooking the ocean, but she'd promised Jonas she'd deliver his package. She probably hadn't been speeding. He'd most likely taken one look at the mass of people and turned tail and run, waiting for an unsuspecting innocent to do his dirty work for him.
She blew out a disgusted puff of air as she found the only available parking place in town--a good distance from her sister's shop. Even the grocery store lot was filled. Rikki looked down the street and every single parking space was filled. People jammed the wooden sidewalks. And trying to go into the local coffee shop was impossible. There was a crowd ten deep. She'd been thinking about a nice cup of coffee. Damn Jonas Harrington. He was probably somewhere smirking right now.
She sat in her truck for a few minutes, working up the courage to fight her way through the crowded sidewalks to her sister's shop. Far out, she could see the blue of the ocean, and her entire being yearned to be out there where the waves swelled and crested, rolling in beautiful, powerful displays. She understood the sea and the rules there, the life and death survival. But here . . . She looked around her. Here, she was definitely the proverbial fish out of water.
Well, she had something to do. Resolutely, Rikki shoved open the door of her truck and stepped into the street. Out at sea, on the deck of the Sea Gypsy, she could keep her legs under her, riding the swells with perfect balance, but here, on land, the uneven terrain always made her feel clumsy and awkward. Maybe it was all the people. She could barely breathe. There was no way to drown out the noise. She had coping mechanisms that she'd developed over the years. Counting her steps sometimes helped, but she'd never seen Sea Haven so packed.