Marked

“What makes you think I’d go anywhere with you, much less to some secret place?” She crossed her arms.

Standing so close, it was all he could do not to draw her to him and take her tempting mouth. “I hope I can convince you to trust me.”

Her gaze snapped to his and stayed there, unblinking, as though she were reaching inside him, studying his soul, measuring his worth. He saw her strength, felt it in his mind, and he suddenly believed she was the hope for his people.

“What difference does it make who my father was?” she asked.

“Your father was one of the leaders of my people who devoted his life to helping others.”

She waited.

He had to risk it. “I hope to convince you to follow in his footsteps.”

Her eyes slowly widened. “Me?”

Cole nodded.

Alicia shook her head as if to loosen stray thoughts. “This is too much.” She stepped around him and crossed the room. “I’ve heard some pretty good lines, but this one’s out there. I think you should go now. I’ve got stuff to do.”

He followed her to the front where she waited, holding the door open.

“Alicia—”

She raised one hand. “Look, I had a long day at work. I’m tired. Please go.”

He could tell by the set of her mouth and the disappearance of her hospitality that this wasn’t the time to argue the point. Nodding, he walked past her, trying his best not to notice her scent. “Thank you for the beer.”

She closed the door as soon as he crossed the threshold.

He stood in the breezeway, filling his lungs with dry New Mexico air, easily sorting out diesel fumes, grilling pork, wild rosemary and honeysuckle. A faint hint of rain raised goose bumps in his flesh. He loved the way it smelled in The Valley when clouds built over the Jemez Mountains. Everyone always moved a little faster and smiled a little more, knowing the cool rain would soon fall. Were they gathering around an evening fire now, waiting for thunder to fill the canyon, looking for potential mates with whom to share nature’s excitement? Feathery pink clouds in the northwest pointed to home as clearly as a highway sign.

Cole glanced back at the closed door and sighed. His task wasn’t an easy one, but nothing could be more important.

Distant thunder rumbled across the horizon, accompanying dark clouds that carried in the night. Alicia turned off the TV and tossed the remote aside.

She often felt restless during thunderstorms, but this was something more. Cole’s bizarre statements had stirred her psyche, bringing to the surface doubts she’d carried since childhood. She’d doubted that her father was really dead, and she’d often doubted the memories she had of her mother. So many of her memories felt like dreams that she couldn’t tell which was which.

She couldn’t remember her mother’s face, but she remembered the kindness in her mother’s dark eyes, and the love in her kisses and touch. She didn’t remember her father at all, and her grandmother had always refused to talk about him, claiming that the memories were too painful.

One thing Alicia had seen in a dream as a child that she associated with her parents was a beautiful valley viewed from high up in the mountains—a valley filled with mountain lions. She knew this wasn’t real. Mountain lions didn’t run in packs like dogs; they were solitary creatures. In her dream, forty or fifty giant cats, all beautiful, sleek, their tawny hides golden in the sun, romped and played like kids. Just the memory of that dream brought her joy, but also made her lonely.

She hadn’t thought of her dream of the valley of mountain lions for years. Cole had stirred up too much of her past in few short seconds. Damn him.

She wished she still had her grandmother to call for support. The woman’s death was too fresh a wound to have healed and, as she sat on the sofa thinking about her, Alicia felt as if she’d just ripped off the scab. Tears burned behind her eyes.

Lightning flashed in the front window, followed by a crack of thunder. The storm moving in might even drop snow on Sandia Crest.

Fighting the urge to scream, she yanked open the front door, stepped out and crossed to the railing, where she faced the parking lot. Beyond the asphalt and buildings, she studied the veiled face of Sandia even as clouds crowded in to block her view.

Lightning forked from the sky, popping in the distance where it met the ground. Nearly instantaneous thunder shook the walkway and railing, and filled her soul with excitement. She squinted against a gust of sand-filled wind and gripped the railing tighter.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?”

Alicia jumped at the voice from behind her and spun around to find Cole looking out at the storm, his face raised toward the clouds. He stood less than two feet away.

Apparently not noticing how he’d startled her, he moved forward to stand beside her at the railing.

She turned, gripped the cool metal and looked out. Below them, the parking lot and lawn had been abandoned for the storm and the night. Although it couldn’t be later than six-thirty, building lights on photocells blinked on.

“This is the time of year when everything is full of energy,” he said. “Rain carries life from the sky to the ground where it’s soaked up by the young corn and the sage.”

His voice was deep and soothing, and, surprisingly, she found his presence comforting.

“You sound like my grandmother.”

He turned his head and smiled down at her, studying her face with his golden eyes.

Alicia’s mouth instantly dried out and her throat tightened. She saw smoldering desire in his gaze and felt as though it were more important than it should be. What difference could it possibly make that this gorgeous man wanted her? Lots of men had wanted her, and she’d wanted more than a few of them.

But this was different, more personal somehow.

Lightning drew her attention from him, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the vibration of thunder in her chest.

“It’s not surprising,” he said.

“What? That you sound like my grandmother?”

“Yes. Her people and ours have been bound together for centuries.”

Alicia turned to face him. “By ours, you mean yours and mine?”

“Yes.”

“This is bullshit, Cole. I don’t know—”

“You feel the connection. I know you do.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She did feel some kind of connection to him, but it made no sense. He was little more than a stranger.

She shook her head. “No, it’s…”

“What?”

She met his gaze. “It’s just lust.”

His eyes widened as if with shock, and she laughed. In that instant, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, no matter how strange he was.

Cole shook his head and looked away. “No,” he said. “I wish it were that simple.”