Reckonings. Cynthia Eden

it.

      He didn’t play by the rules, and he sure wasn’t afraid of any danger. In fact, he thrived on adrenaline.

      “But how do you feel, Jamie?” Because he needed to know. He closed the space between them. If the woman didn’t want him, if he’d imagined the fire of her response, then he’d back off. Sure, they’d touched, and he’d thought the world had exploded; but maybe she hadn’t felt that way, maybe...

      “I didn’t expect the way I feel.” Her gaze dropped. Her long lashes shielded her eyes, so he couldn’t read the emotions there. “Maybe because I’ve tried not to feel anything in so long.”

      I’m going to discover all your secrets, Jamie. She was a puzzle to him, one that he would be solving very, very soon.

      He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently pushed her head up, so that she was staring into his eyes once again.

      “I want you, too,” she whispered. “But it’s so fast. I don’t want to make a mistake.”

      Fast...she must not have realized he’d been lusting after her for the past year. That whenever he knew she was coming to the McGuire ranch, he’d made sure that he was there, too. That if he caught sight of her in town, he dropped everything else to go and get close to her. Accidental meetings? Right.

      He’d played things cool for too long. Time to turn up the heat.

      “It won’t be a mistake.” He leaned toward her. Their lips were barely an inch apart. “It will be incredible.” Then he kissed her. Not the deep, consuming kiss that he wanted. But a light, soft good-night kiss. A tease for what was to come...because there would be plenty coming for them. She wanted him, and he’d use that. In the end, they’d both get what they desired.

      “Good night, Jamie.” He smiled at her. “Sweet dreams.” Then he walked away before he gave in to his baser urges and did a whole lot more than just kiss her good-night.

      * * *

      JAMIE SHUT THE DOOR behind Davis. She turned around, leaned her back against the wood, and her fingers touched her lips. She could still feel him. The warm, soft press of his mouth on hers.

      It had been so long since she’d let anyone get close to her. There’d been no lovers, not in years. Because it was far too dangerous to trust a man on that level. Dangerous for her.

      Dangerous for him.

      But...

       Sweet dreams.

      But a woman could sure dream.

      * * *

      JAMIE HADN’T RETURNED HOME.

      The motorcycle idled between his legs as he stared at her dark house. He’d gone back, sure that she’d be there, all alone and waiting.

      But her car wasn’t there. No cars were there. The house sat, shadowy and silent...

       Where are you, Jamie?

      He turned off the motorcycle. Strode toward the house. This time, he was careful. He’d come prepared. It only took a few minutes to disable her alarm. Then he went back to the window he’d broken before. Someone had nailed a board over it. Probably that hick who’d been in the truck. The one who never should have been near Jamie.

       As if the board will stop me.

      He just broke another window. The glass shattered and—

      Silence.

      No alarm. No shrieking dog. But also...no Jamie.

       Where are you, love?

      He lifted the window and climbed inside. The room was dark, but he could smell Jamie there. Light lavender. He’d never forgotten that scent, not in all the long years that had passed. He could almost feel her in the house.

      He turned on the lights. Saw that he was in her den. Everything was neat. Put in its place. Same Jamie. She’d always been so organized. She had shelves filled with books. Paintings lined the walls. Paintings that he knew she’d done. She’d always had talent. A lifetime ago, she’d made sketches of him. She sketched her family. Her home. Everything.

      There were no personal sketches, though. Not even any photos. No family mementos that he could see.

      He stalked through the house. Cookbooks in the kitchen. Pots, pans...nothing personal.

      He went into her bedroom. Her scent was stronger there. Her bed was made, a tidy four-poster of dark cherrywood. He opened the drawers of her dresser. Touched her soft silken gowns. Opened another drawer. Saw her bras. Lacy. Beautiful. Scraps of sexy underwear.

       She’d better not be wearing these for anyone else.

      His fingers clenched around the gown in his left hand. He’d told Jamie, so long ago, that she would always be his. They were linked, and nothing—no one—would ever tear them apart.

      Not even Jamie.

      He didn’t forgive her for what she’d done. Forgiveness wouldn’t come easily, but they would get past this dark patch. After Jamie had been punished, they could start building their life again.

      He threw down the gown and headed for her little nightstand. There, finally, was a picture. Jamie was in that picture, smiling up at him.

      But Jamie wasn’t alone. He recognized the man with her. The man who had his arm so casually wrapped around Jamie. The fool who was smiling at the camera.

       The dead man.

      His fist slammed into that frame, punching at the glass. He’d cut himself when he busted the window earlier, and his blood dripped onto the photo.

      He was staring down at the man who’d made Jamie hate him, the man who’d made her turn away all of those years ago. Jamie still had a picture of him?

      No, no, this wouldn’t work. Time for her punishment to begin right then.

      He took the photo. Shoved it into his pocket. Then his gaze darted around her house. This wasn’t Jamie’s real home. She needed to see that. This place was nothing but an illusion...an illusion that would...

      Go up in smoke.

      * * *

      “JAMIE, JAMIE, RUN!”

      She stared in horror at the scene before her.

       “He’s got a gun, run!”

      But she couldn’t run. She was rooted to the spot, and when the gunshot blasted, she screamed. Screamed again and again and—

      Jamie jerked up in bed, her heart racing as the dream slowly faded from her mind.

      Sweet dreams. Her fingers clenched around the covers. Right. As if she ever had those. Instead, memories from her past plagued her, haunting her and never letting go. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t escape from them.

      She rose from the bed. She could see the faint light of dawn streaking toward her, cracking through the blinds. Another night had passed. The day would be better. It had to be.

      That was her mantra, anyway. The way she got through all the dark nights of her life.

       The day would be better. It had to be.

      It was Sunday, so her clinic wasn’t open. She didn’t have to rush in to check on her four-legged friends.

      Jinx brushed against her leg. She bent down, her fingers pushing against his fur. “It’s okay. You know the drill. Sleep means the nightmares come back.” After so much time, she’d thought those dreams would fade. But then, maybe some memories never vanished.

      A sharp rap at the front door had her tensing.

      The knock came again, harder. “Jamie!”

      She