After Twilight Part 24

"Did you find more traps?"

"Yeah," he answered, thinking she had a trap he wouldn't mind getting snared in. "Should we talk to the sheriff again?"

She leaned over the bar, studying her camera, probably checking to see how many pictures she had left. The position made the shirt hike up in the back, teasing him with possibilities. It would be simple for him to walk over, yank that shirt up all the way, bend her over the bar, and do what he'd been foaming at the mouth to do since the first time he saw her. He took a step toward her. She straightened and turned around.

"Did you hear me?"

He glanced up. "What?"

"The sheriff. We should tell him about the traps."

Rick nodded. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. That is, if I can get a ride into town."

She frowned. "Why don't you have a phone?"

"Too far from town. They haven't run the lines out this far yet."

Stephanie replaced her camera and moved toward the couch. She sat and drew her legs up beneath her. "I'd think that wouldn't be too good for your business."

The woman was killing him. If she moved a fraction, he might catch a glimpse of something he didn't need to see at the moment. "Most everyone just brings an animal in if it's sick and leaves it in the pens, or they come get me. It really hasn't been a problem, since everyone else out this far doesn't have a phone, either."

"How about a cell phone?" she suggested. "In fact, you can use mine if you'd rather call the sheriff."

Rick shook his head. "Poor reception out here because of the mountains. If you'd tried to make a call since you arrived, you would have already realized that."

"Oh. I haven't tried to contact anyone."

She shifted. He groaned.

"I'm going to take a shower." Rick marched toward the bathroom.

"My clothes are probably dry. I'll get dressed."

"Good idea," he muttered.

"Ah, I used your razor, too," she called. "I don't know how I got so hairy so fast, but my legs looked like Christmas trees."

He paused. Since he didn't shave his legs, he didn't know if unusual hair growth was anything that should concern him. He'd always had a heavy beard, so he'd never paid much attention. "That's fine," he said, forcing himself to move on. He walked into the bathroom and unb.u.t.toned his shirt. A timid knock sounded a second later.

"Can I grab my shoes before you get undressed?"

Rick opened the door. She scooted inside, brushing up against him. Contact with her was like having volts of electricity pumped into his body. Her gaze lifted, and he knew she felt it, too, the undeniable attraction that stood between them.

"Thanks for your help today," she said, her gaze still glued to his mouth. "You're very good with the wolves. You just marched right up to the female without the least bit of concern for your own safety. I think you might be the bravest person I've ever met."

The compliment pleased him, and sickened him. "Maybe just the stupidest." Rick glanced around and spotted her small hiking boots. He bent and swept them up, handing them to her. "You should get dressed."

She took the boots. "Yes, and I should be returning to my campsite. It's already dark outside."

"Wait for me and I'll walk you back," he said, although it would be better if she were gone when he finished his shower. The temptation to seduce her became stronger with every second that pa.s.sed. Still, he wasn't comfortable about her roaming in the night with a crazy woman on the loose. A crazy woman who wasn't so crazy.

"That won't be necessary. I feel confident that I won't be bothered by that woman again, and besides, I'm starving. I need to get back and scrounge up something to eat."

"I would offer to fix you dinner, but I don't imagine I have anything you'd want."

Her gaze drifted over him. Although Rick hadn't been intimate with a woman in three years, he knew when he was being a.s.sessed. She continued to study him, moistening her tempting lips with the tip of her tongue. He clenched his hands at his sides, battling the urge to pull her into his arms.

"That's all right," she finally said. She seemed to mentally shake herself. "I really do need to be going. Thank you for your help today." Turning toward the door, she added, "I'll pick you up around noon tomorrow. We can have lunch at the cafe again and talk to the sheriff afterward."

"That will be fine," he said curtly.

"Good night then."

If she didn't get the h.e.l.l away from him, he would lose what little control he maintained. "Good night."

He thought she might say something else, but he nudged her from the bathroom. His hand shook on the k.n.o.b, and he quickly locked the door. Not locking her out, but locking himself in. Of course, the problem with that was that the lock should be on the other side. Rick hurried to the shower and turned on the water. He stripped down and climbed beneath the chilly spray.

Chapter Eight.

Stephanie hurried through the woods. Her behavior with Rick embarra.s.sed her. That feeling had come over her again. An irresistible urge to make love with him. He must have sensed her desire, because he'd hurried her out of the bathroom and locked the door. He'd rejected her.

He'd shut her out, made it clear he didn't want her. Humiliation had washed over her, and all she could think of was escape. She'd grabbed her clothes from the dryer, hurried into them, and run from the cabin-run from her own shame.

She didn't understand the things she felt for him. Stephanie wasn't completely innocent. She'd had a lover before. A boy she'd known in college. One she'd planned to marry until the accident happened. Afterward, he'd stopped calling, stopped coming to see her because she couldn't leave her father, couldn't even leave the house most of the time.

So much for true love. True love was when one person stood beside another no matter the circ.u.mstances. Through sickness and in health, for better or for worse. True love was what her parents had had, what she wanted. Certainly not a wild physical attraction to a man who seemed strange in some way she couldn't put her finger on.

But there were things she liked about Rick besides his face and body. He'd shown tenderness and compa.s.sion to the injured wolf that afternoon. She knew he could be gentle, caring, and certainly brave. He could even be funny. So what if he seemed to be a tortured soul at times?

His brother's death had surely affected him as much as the loss of her parents had affected her. He was lonely-he'd admitted that to her today. She was lonely, too. It only made sense they would be drawn to one another. What suddenly didn't make sense was the fact that as Stephanie hurried along in the dark woods, she realized she could see quite well.

She stopped and looked around. The shapes of trees, bushes, and even the rocks strewn along her path were easily distinguishable. Glancing up, she noted that the moon wasn't particularly bright.

"This is odd," she whispered, unsettled by her strange ability. She quickly tried to come up with a logical reason. She'd been camping for some time now; perhaps she had simply become used to the dark.

What other reason would there be for suddenly developing wonderful night vision? Maybe she'd always been able to see this well in the dark, she reasoned. She probably hadn't noticed before because she was usually so wrapped up in her work.

She lifted her face to the wind and caught a scent. One she immediately identified with the old woman. A chill raced up her spine. Somehow she knew the woman wasn't gone. She was somewhere nearby... waiting.

The next day, Rick stared at Stephanie across the cafe table. Although she grew more beautiful to him every day, she had dark circles beneath her eyes and she'd been quiet during the trip to town. She'd ordered a salad with about as much enthusiasm as she would have ordered a plate of worms.

"What's the matter with you?" he finally asked.

She glanced up from fiddling with her car keys. "I didn't say anything was wrong."

"You didn't have to." He studied her face. "Have you been sleeping all right?"

Her lashes drifted downward, merging with the dark circles beneath her eyes.

"I can't seem to settle down and get comfortable," she admitted. "And the noise..."

"The noise?" he repeated with a laugh. "What noise?"

Running a hand through her long hair, she said, "Owls hooting, branches snapping, leaves rustling. I never realized the great outdoors was so noisy."

"Most people wouldn't notice," he said, then frowned. His own hearing had become sharper after the incident that had forever changed him. It had taken him a while to notice, but he'd lived in the city then.

The sirens blaring on the expressway in the distance had always sounded annoyingly loud when he'd been trying to sleep. But later, they had sounded as if they were right outside the house.

"Maybe you should stay with me," he suggested, thinking he should keep a closer eye on her. She was starting to worry him.

She lifted a brow. "Stay with you?"

"You could have the bedroom, and I'd sleep on the couch," he a.s.sured her, but considering what had already gone on between them, he had as much trouble believing that as she probably did.

"I don't think that would be a good idea. You don't have locks on all the doors to keep me out."

Her last comment startled him. Was that what she'd thought? That he'd been locking her out rather than locking himself in? "I was trying to be a gentleman," he said.

"You succeeded." She sighed. "I'm sorry I made that crack about locked doors. I'm tired and I got up on the wrong side of the ground this morning."

"I offered you my bed," he reminded. She looked exhausted and embarra.s.sed. "Feather down mattress, hot showers, coffee in the morning."

"Don't tempt me." She laughed, but her gaze drifted over him in lazy inspection before she seemed to realize her actions. "I'm perfectly fine where I am. I'm not on vacation, I'm on a.s.signment." She glanced around the small cafe. "I don't see the sheriff here today. I guess we'll have to go to his office once we finish."

Rick nodded, then dug into his meal. He hated cooking for one and, as a result, seldom ate a hot meal. He couldn't tolerate meat if it was cooked too long, either. He liked it almost raw, nice and juicy. The french fries that came with his burger weren't that appealing to him, but he didn't suppose he could order a whole plate of raw hamburger meat.

"Do you think the sheriff can do anything about the sheep farmers setting traps?"

"I doubt if he can legally do much about it, or that he'd want to," he answered. "We'll bring up the matter of your safety, but you were trespa.s.sing on private property yesterday, so it won't do much good."

She reached across the table and s.n.a.t.c.hed a fry from his plate. "I have to trespa.s.s if they want me to capture footage of the wolves attacking their livestock. I a.s.sumed being allowed on their property was part of the deal."

"That's the argument we'll present." Rick grabbed for napkins from the container, found it empty, and glanced around. "I'll be right back."

The container at the next booth was also empty. He looked for Betty but didn't see her anywhere. Spotting a full container on another nearby table, he bent and tried to wrest a handful of napkins from the overstuffed receptacle. He felt a little embarra.s.sed that he couldn't get the wadded napkins out and glanced over his shoulder at Stephanie.

She didn't look amused by his struggle, but was staring thoughtfully at what could only be his a.s.s, given her eye level. The hair on the back on his neck p.r.i.c.kled. He wasn't offended, by any means. If she'd been bent over in front of him, he'd be a.s.sessing her, too. What caused his reaction was the fact that while she stared, she greedily munched away on his hamburger.

He turned toward her. "Stephanie?"

Her gaze shot up. "I-I didn't mean to stare-"

"I thought you were a vegetarian," he interrupted. She blinked up at him. "I

am," she responded, her mouth full. "Then why are you eating my burger?"

Stephanie's gaze lowered. A piece of red meat stared back at her from a sesame seed bun. Unconcerned with manners, she spit the contents in her mouth out onto her salad plate. The taste of blood lingered on her tongue. Sweet, delicious. The thought sickened her.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and jumped up from the table. The restroom might be occupied. She couldn't take that chance. Racing outside, she stumbled into the alley and lost the contents of her stomach. A pair of strong hands settled upon her shoulders.

"Stephanie?" Rick asked. "Are you all right?"

No, she was not all right. Something was terribly wrong with her. Wiping the sleeve of her shirt across her mouth, her eyes filled with tears. She glanced up at him.

"What's happening to me? Last night I could see in the dark. I ate your hamburger... and I liked it. The blood tasted sweet to me. I-"

"I think I'd better get you to my place," he interrupted. Rick helped her up and shoved a wad of napkins into her hand. "I left some money on the table for the bill and grabbed your keys. I'll drive."

Although she seldom let anyone drive her vehicle, she nodded, allowing him to help her to the Jeep. She climbed into the pa.s.senger side and rested her head against the back of the seat. Rick jumped in and started the engine.

"What about talking to the sheriff?" she asked weakly.

"That will have to wait. I'm taking you to bed." Her pulse leaped. Even though she felt ill, she smiled, recalling that she'd said the same thing to him the morning they met. The same morning she'd tracked a wolf into his cabin and caught him climbing from the shower. A vision of him, muscled body slick and shiny, dark hair dripping wet, blue eyes bright with fever, floated through her mind. "What?"

She glanced at him. "I didn't say anything." A moment later, she realized she had responded. The noise she'd made sounded suspiciously like a growl.

Chapter Nine.

Once at the cabin, Rick handed Stephanie a flannel shirt. "Change into this and climb into bed. Can I get you anything?"

She placed her hands on her hips. "This is silly. I told you, I feel better now. This isn't necessary."

He wouldn't take any arguments from her. "Would you like me to help you undress?"

A thoughtful pause followed. She sighed and s.n.a.t.c.hed the shirt from him. "I should go back to my campsite and take a nap. I'm tired, that's all. That's why I became emotional earlier."

"You can nap here," he insisted. "In a real bed."

They had a stare-down. Rick wasn't giving in. Her recent behavior had upset him, but he didn't want to frighten her when he wasn't certain whether there was any real cause for concern.

"You know I don't like to be bullied," she finally said.

He touched her cheek gently. "I'm not bullying you. I'm concerned. You need rest, and I'm going to make sure you get it."