Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,83

worries for her sister and grandmother somewhat alleviated by Alex's assurance that they had escaped.

Alex caressed her back and shoulders. Her skin was smooth and soft and warm beneath his fingers. Her hair smelled of sunshine. Bending forward, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. Clad in the colorful sundress, with her hair tumbling down her back, she looked young and innocent and as vulnerable as a newborn kitten.

Alex swore under his breath. She should have been home with her family, looking after her sister and her grandmother, dating a man who could give her children. Instead, she was here, with a man who had brought her nothing but trouble. She'd probably lost her job. Her life was in danger. She had no idea where her family was, or when she'd ever be able to go home. And itwas all his fault. His hand stilled, his fingers resting lightly on her shoulder.

Kara turned her head so she could see Alex's face, the smile dying on her lips when she saw his expression. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying." She met his gaze, her eyes narrowing as she tried to read his mind. After a moment, she frowned. Why couldn't she read his thoughts as she usually did? And then she realized that he had erected a barrier of some kind.

"That's not fair," she said, her voice thick with accusation. "You read my thoughts whenever you wish. I should be able to do the same."

"Life is unfair, Kara." He lifted his hand from her shoulder and stood up.

Kara stared at him. He was naked save for a towel wrapped around his waist. A faint breeze blew over the lake, ruffling his hair. The setting sun left its signature across the sky in bold strokes of crimson and ocher, casting his figure in shades of gold and bronze. He looked like the Greek god Apollo, she thought, strong and handsome and possessed of remarkable powers. She tried again to read his thoughts, and again she couldn't penetrate the wall he had erected between them.

Slowly, she stood up. She willed him to turn around, to acknowledge her, to confide in her. She ached to go to him, to take him in her arms and tell him she loved him. Instead, she crossed her arms over her breasts and attempted to shield her own thoughts.

Minutes passed, and still he stood there with his back toward her. Her patience at an end, Kara turned on her heel and walked back to the cabin.

She made dinner because she needed something to do. They had been so close only a short time ago. High on a mountaintop, they had exchanged vows to love and cherish each other. They had made love, their joining more than just physical intercourse. And now it felt as though they were hundreds of miles apart.

When dinner was ready, she started for the door to call him, only to find him standing there, his dark eyes filled with unbearable sorrow. She wondered how long he had been there, and what he was thinking to make him look so sad.

"Sit down," she said. "Supper's ready."

With a nod, he took a place at the table. She'd fixed steak and eggs. His steak was rare, just the way he liked it.

They ate in silence. Kara refused to meet his gaze, and he ached for the pain he had caused her, was causing her even now, and yet he said nothing. He'd known all along it had been wrong for him to interfere in her life. For two hundred years, he had carefully avoided attachments to humans. It was time to end his relationship with Kara before it was too late, before he ruined her life completely, or got her killed. He could not endure the guilt of knowing his mere presence put her life in jeopardy, could not have her death on his hands. Somehow, he would get her safely home, reunite her with her family. And if he had to kill Barrett to accomplish it, then he would do so without a qualm.

Rising from the table, he thanked her for the meal, then crawled into the sleeping bag and closed his eyes. Leaving her wouldnot be easy for either of them. She might miss him for a time. She might even hate him. But someday, when she had a husband and children and a normal life, she would thank him.
Chapter Twenty-four
He had shut her out, and she didn't know why. Lying in her sleeping bag