"He was an amazing man,” she said, “a gentle man, a man who wasn't always there mentally, but still a very good lover."
"He was a murderer."
"Yes, but I didn't know that at the time. Only later.” And those murders were the only reason Cade was at Rosehall, the reason they'd met. Whatever else happened between them, she couldn't be sorry about that, even if it had taken her entirely too long to remember it.
"But you loved him."
"I've already said I didn't."
"Yet, you did love me?"
His disbelieving tone made her look at him again. “Look, I'm not denying my actions at the time gave lie to my words. Or that they were right. But at least try to understand where I was coming from at the time—I was eighteen, and I had left a very strict upbringing to find myself and explore my sexuality. I didn't want, or expect, to find love, and it scared the hell out of me."
He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “If you love someone, you're faithful to them. It's as simple as that."
"Love is never simple. It's different for every single person who lives on this planet. And you've no right to judge my actions until you've actually felt love yourself."
He didn't answer, and that made her even angrier. She turned onto Summit Street and slowed. In the driveway of the house four doors down from the burned wreck of Lana Lee's old house, was a blue truck.
"Well, well,” she said softly. “Look what we've found."
"No proof it's the same truck. Pull over."
She pulled in behind an old ford wagon and stopped. The curtains covering the windows in the house moved slightly. “We've been made."
"She'll run."
"Maybe not. After all, she must have been pretty sure that she wouldn't get recognized if she tried to run Ronan over in broad daylight.” She glanced at him. “Did you get the plate number?"
"Same false plate as last night."
"Which she'll have no doubt removed by now."
"Undoubtedly."
She leaned her forearms on the steering wheel as she studied the house. “How do you want to play this?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic covered photo. “Go to a few houses and ask if they know this woman. Then go ask her. But before you show it to her, take it out of the plastic."
"I doubt whether she'd be dumb enough to touch it.” She glanced at the picture. It could have been Candy's sister—the only difference was smaller, meaner eyes. “And in the meantime, you'll be doing what, precisely?"
"Coming in from behind."
"On one leg? I don't think that's wise."
"A wolf has four legs, which gives me three to walk on.” He raised a hand, and gently cupped her cheek. “That woman just tried to kill Ronan. You're not going to go anywhere near her alone."
"You sound as if you care."
"Maybe I do."
She raised an eyebrow and said teasingly, “You sure it's not the moon promise?"
His dark gaze rested on hers, and something inside her simply wanted to sigh. But all he said was, “It might be."
It wasn't the declaration she'd been half hoping for—though why she hoped, she had no idea. He obviously wasn't a man who verbalized emotion, except when it came to anger. But it wasn't an outright denial, either, and right now, she was happy with that. She kissed his palm, then opened the door and got out. A cool wind stirred her hair and sent a chill racing down her spine. She glanced at the sky. Dark clouds were racing towards them, and part of her hoped it wasn't an omen of things to come. Thrusting the thought away, she zipped up her jacket and walked over to the nearest house. It just happened to be Rex's house.
"Morning, Ranger,” he said, his eagle-like gaze flicking past her briefly. “Looks like there's a hell of a storm coming. What can I do for you?"