And it would have made it so much easier to protect herself from falling in love with Rolt. Seeing Kurt had opened her eyes to the truth. She already was in love with Rolt.
"We've both had quite a few things cleared up today. We understand ourselves and each other better." He sighed as if he wasn't certain that was good.
"No hard feelings, Kurt?" She tipped her head to one side, her gaze sad and wistful.
"No." He smiled grimly. "I'm still sorry I lost you, but I'm not bitter any more. Eventually the hurt will leave, too."
There wasn't much left to say, and both of them knew it. Alanna reached for the door handle and released the latch. She smiled weakly over her shoulder at Kurt.
"Take care," she said in goodbye.
"You, too." But there was a tightness in his expression that said he still loved her, regardless of her change of feelings.
By the time Alanna had driven back to the house by the lake, the intermittent rain had stopped, but the sky remained threatening. The meeting with Kurt had left her feeling dispirited and restless, confused by a problem she didn't know how to solve. Loving Rolt should have made things simpler; instead they seemed complicated.
She wandered through the house, listening to the thunder rolling closer. Lightning flashed in crackling arcs and tongues. Dinner was in the oven when the wind came, whipping and bending the conical tops of the pines. The rain came with a rush, blinding sheets hammering at the windows. The fury of the storm grew steadily.
The table was set and dinner was warming in the oven, but Rolt wasn't home. At first Alanna didn't let herself become concerned. The storm had probably held him up. The roads would be slick and the visibility poor.
When one hour stretched into two hours late, panic set in. Alanna dialed the number of his private line at the office, but there was no answer. She called the entrance gate, only to have the security guard on duty tell her that Rolt had left the plant almost two hours ago. She began imagining problems as trivial as a flat tire and soon progressed into accidents with Rolt lying injured in some ditch along the way.
When she picked up the telephone the third time to call the police, the line was dead, knocked out by the storm. Raking her fingers through her tawny hair, Alanna glanced at the rain-coated windows. A jab of lightning exploded somewhere close by and thunder shook the glass.
The front door burst open, and Alanna pivoted. Her first thought was that the howling wind had blown it open. A rush of moist, turbulent air swept into the living room, cooling her cheeks. A molten-silver flash of lightning illuminated the night, lingering for several seconds.
Outlined in the doorway was the dark silhouette of a man. Dar
k hair was wind-tossed in rumpled waves. His stance, feet slightly apart, was intimidating. Rain glistened on the wooden planks outside the threshold. In that charged and lightning brilliant instant, the man didn't seem real—a mythical being, a giant.
The giant moved, and the breath that had been caught in Alanna's throat was released in a joyous sigh. She raced to the doorway as Rolt stepped in, dripping rain, his expensive suit plastered against his muscular frame. His sun-bronzed features gleamed wetly, lashes dark and spiky from the water.
"Rolt! Where have you been?" She ran into his arms.
Her relief at seeing him safe and apparently unharmed was too great to be held in. She buried her face in the wet lapel of his jacket as he pushed the door closed, shutting out the wind-whipped rain. She could hear the solid, steady beat of his heart.
"What took you so long?" she breathed.
"There was a tree across the road, and I had to walk," Rolt answered, his breath warm against her hair although his voice was oddly aloof.
Alanna became aware of the way she was clinging him. The wetness of his clothes was beginning to be absorbed by hers. Her hands slid from his shoulders to the hardness of his chest as she levered herself away. Thunder rumbled threateningly and she shivered at the violence of the storm he had walked through.
"Afraid of storms?" Indigo eyes watched her.
"Not usually," she laughed nervously. "But I was worried about you. I called the plant and the guard said you'd left two hours ago."
"Yes, I did. I'm sorry you were worried."
"Yes, well, it couldn't be helped." His hands were resting lightly on her hips. Alanna edged a few more inches from his chest, nerves jumping, "Dinner is ruined, I'm afraid, but it's probably just as well. As soaked as you are, the best thing would be some hot soup. And a dry change of clothes."
When she would have moved away, his hands tightened on her hips. "Were you really worried, Alanna?" The hard brilliance of his eyes searched her face.
"Of course I was." A finely strung tension gripped her. She felt suddenly defensive. "I'm not some unfeeling monster, Rolt."
"But you think I am," he said in a quiet accusation.
Alanna looked away. "I don't." Her pulse was quickening under his disturbing regard. "I mean, not really, just sometimes." She was stammering, faltering over words and explanations. "There are times when you are ruthless—you have to admit that."
"It seems to be the only way that works."