Familiar Strangers (11 page)

There.

The light grew stronger up ahead, and she could see the silhouette of a man waiting for her, arms outstretched. A few more feet and she would be safe within the warm haven of his embrace.

Too late, she felt the damp harsh breath of her attacker on her neck as he yanked her from the path and into the darkness. She couldn’t see the man’s face, but his eyes glowed bright with evil. He wanted more from her than death. This thing wanted to possess her very soul, and he was angry because he was failing again.

Though the knowledge of him and their battle was deeply buried in her mind, she knew it all to be true. They had fought before. Each had lost. He wanted something from her, something he’d killed to get. She was unable to give it to him, no matter how many times he came after her. Whatever the thing was, it wasn’t hers to give. She had freely offered it to another and couldn’t take it back.

They shared the knowledge between them, this evil being and her. He knew what she did not and his rage grew. She could feel his cold moist hands tightening around her neck, squeezing the life out of her once again.

Her thoughts were of the man she loved. The one she had almost reached. Why hadn’t he come after her? What was he waiting for? Did he not know they were being torn apart again? “No,” she cried. “No, not this way. Not again. Colin! Where are you?”

The light grew brighter. A voice called to her gently, telling her she wasn’t alone; he was there with her and would be with her always. She could feel the heat of his promise tingle along her spine. As the voice grew in power, the claws closing off her air fell away.

She gasped as the sweet flow of oxygen once again filled her lungs and restored her body. He was there, Colin had finally found her. She would no longer have to be afraid of the dark or the evil that followed her into sleep.

Galen saw that her eyes didn’t open. Her breathing was calmer though, and her body lost its tautness. The lines of strain slowly disappeared from her pale face as his words penetrated the despair of her vision. She burrowed her head into the hollow of his shoulder, as if it were created for her, and became lost in dreamless sleep.

Galen could do nothing but watch the even rise and fall of her chest, wondering what battle she fought. Could this be a nightmare of Townsend? Who the hell was Colin? What hold did he have over her?

He shifted his arms and leaned back against the pillows, noticing too late he wore only his plaid boxers. Galen knew he could have her now if he wanted—and he wanted—the straining bulge in his shorts was proof enough. But he didn’t want her this way. He wanted her weak from desire, not fear. This wasn’t the time or place to indulge in his fantasies. He would have her hot and breathless beneath him another tonight. Tonight he needed to give her the comfort and safety of his body and nothing more.

He released a long drawn out sigh. It would be a while before he felt comfortable leaving Regin alone. He settled himself in for the reminder of the night. His arms clutched her tightly, never admitting how good and right it felt to have her there. Nor did he dwell on the fact that, from the first moment he saw Regin across the noisy bar, he knew exactly how she would feel pressed against the length of his over-heated body.

****


Lightning sparked across the sky as rain crashed down, drowning the morning in unrelenting gray. Regin turned her head and was shocked at the play of nature’s violence outside her windows. The wind shook trees like mere play toys, tossing heavy branches into the air and twirling them before sending them crashing back to the ground.

Even seeing the force of the storm, she was surprised when she walked to the glass to see the bridge now completely submersed in the dark turbulent water.

“Oh shit,” she whispered quietly to herself. Somehow, in the past few days, she had convinced herself that a hurricane couldn’t be all that bad. It would bring some heavy rain and a little wind. This natural force of destruction was nothing she could have envisioned in her worst nightmare. Why hadn’t she squelched her pride and left the tiny island before her only option off was swallowed by water? Marooning her with a man who couldn’t stand the sight of her. The same man she couldn’t get out of her thoughts or dreams.

She remembered lying down in bed last night, swearing she wouldn’t fall asleep, but within minutes she must have dozed off. Her nightmare had been the same treatment from hell she was frequently subjected to. She was walking home on the U of H campus, Townsend was there, knife in hand, pulling her into the darkness, swearing and threatening her. Whispering dark threats she couldn’t understand while slowly wrapping the frayed velvet ribbon around her neck tighter and tighter until she could no longer draw air into her lungs.

Without warning the dream changed, another man was there. A man she knew. Someone she trusted to save her. He whispered her name sweetly in her ear, swearing everything was all right. He was with her and he always would be.

She tried, but her dream body wouldn’t obey the silent command of her mind to turn and look upon the face of her rescuer. His warm husky voice caressed her and made her feel safe and cherished, banishing the horror of what had come before him. She drew strength from his body, knowing nothing could harm her when he held her within the shelter of his arms.

Slowly his arms turned her to face him, anxiously she lifted her eyes to meet his own...

Nothing! She’d woken up the precise moment when she would have understood who he was and why he meant so much to her. She shook her head in amazement. Never before had she allowed herself to get lost in silly dreams but she’d spent the better part of an hour reliving a nightmare she’d prayed to forget just to remember the feel of a stranger’s arms about her and his moist breath in her ear. She was unquestionably losing whatever was left of her mind.

She was yanked out of her revere by Annie’s morning nature whine. “Baby, I don’t think you want to face this mess,” she counseled the anxious looking animal. “But we’d better work something out before our host throws both of us out to drown.” She opened the door leading to the hall and followed her fretful pet.

She was surprised to see Galen bending over the stove, causing the seat of his frayed jeans to mold his rear end tighter than her libido could handle. She had already spent too much time thinking about him, wondering what his story was. She knew better than to ask, something about him discouraged personal questions. It didn’t stop her from wanting the answers; she needed to find a different route.

“Breakfast is ready in five,” his curt voice cut through Regin’s thoughts as he turned to face her and was shocked by the deep lines around his mouth and black circles under his eyes. Why did he look so bone tired? She was positive if something happened last night, she would have been woken by the noise.

His expression warned her not to question. She wisely chose to obey the silent command, but she wouldn’t forget.

She lifted a brow. “I didn’t know meals came with the cruise,” she was deliberately bating the man. He was too collected for her peace of mind. Everyone had a breaking point and she intended to push until she discovered his.
“Consider it a bonus.” His lips turned up slightly, making her heart kick up pace as well. “How did you sleep?”

The question jarred her. Her eyes flicked quickly over to him than to some vague point over his shoulder. “I slept as well as possible, considering it’s a new place.”

She wasn’t lying, but she wasn’t coming straight out with the truth either. Why should he care if she slept like a rock or not? Oh God, she thought in panic, he didn’t hear her scream, did he? Frequently the horrors in the night became so strong and real, she would cry out in her sleep. She wouldn’t be able to stand it if he knew of her nightmares. But no, he wasn’t looking at her any different than he had before. His eyes were calm, cold even. There was no laughter lurking behind them. He mustn’t know about the terror that chased her at night. She released the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and returned his stare.

“It’s difficult for me to sleep in new places for the first few nights. I’ll be over it in no time,” she promised, while praying it was true and the dream wouldn’t torment her until after she left his house.

“Makes no difference to me one way or another,” he answered her calmly. “Why don’t we sit down and eat before everything gets cold.” He placed a platter of scrambled eggs on the table alongside plates filled with bacon and toast.

He walked over and pulled a chair out for her. Regin didn’t bother glancing at him as she took her seat. He was different than before. She didn’t know if it was the truce from last night or maybe his mother had taught him to use better manners in his home. Whatever it was, she was grateful he wasn’t pushing her on last night’s rest.
A gust of wind crashed against the windows. Regin jumped in reaction, almost dropping her coffee cup in fright. The storm was picking up strength. How could she have forgotten they were in the middle of a hurricane? Mother Nature quickly reminded her where her thoughts should be centered and it wasn’t her nightmare or Galen’s nice ass.


“Take it easy. The fun hasn’t even begun yet,” he assured her, looking entirely too calm while sipping his coffee and eating enormous amounts of food.

Knowing her eyes were round with fear, Regin averted her head to look out at the gathering darkness. “How can you say it hasn’t begun? It looks almost pitch back out there.”

He leaned back in his chair, resting both hands against his flat stomach and smiled. She assumed this meant he was done inhaling his food for the time being. “This is just a preview. Kind of like the warm-up show before the main event.”

She swallowed hard and stared down at her scarcely eaten food. “A preview? How much worse is it going to get?”

“Well, there’s really no way to tell. Right now she’s headed straight at our coast. A category four, which means the winds will be over a hundred miles per hour. That’s what we need to be concerned about. The water we can survive, but there’s no way to predict what will stand up against that type of wind.”

Regin felt her face drain of color, but when she spoke her voice was even and calm. “So I’m not going to die by drowning. I like that. On the other hand, I could get killed by a flying bait bucket to the head.” She shook her head in amazement. “Death with no dignity. Not much of a choice, Matthews,” she said and laughed lightly as if this was no more than a game, trying very hard to put some humor into a situation sorely lacking it.

“I didn’t realize you took dying so lightly, Ms. Neff.” He didn’t want her scared to death, she could tell. But he wanted her aware of the circumstances and able to act quickly if the need arose.

She looked at him now and immediately wished she hadn’t. She knew her eyes would reflect sorrow, acceptance, and the growing uncertainty. “I don’t take death lightly, Galen,” she spoke quietly but firmly. “However, I know there are some things that cannot be avoided. Death happens to be one of them. Don’t get me wrong,” she held a hand up when he would have argued. “I love life and plan on being part of it for a long while yet. I also respect death and know it can happen when and where we least expect it. Until it catches up to me, I’ll fight just as hard as the next person, but I know who will win in the end.”

She waited for the inevitable questions that were sure to follow. She knew better than to speak so plainly, but something about the arrogant way he spouted the dangers made her want to knock him down a peg or two. He had no right to criticize her about death or reactions to it. If he asked, she wasn’t obligated to inform him of anything. It wouldn’t help them survive the hurricane, and it sure as hell wouldn’t help him teach her about fishing and camping. Baring her soul to this man would accomplish nothing except maybe make him mad, and she could do that easily enough without throwing her past in his face.

To her shock and surprise, he said nothing but calmly finished his breakfast and carried his dishes to the sink, holding his hands out for her still full ones. This wasn’t what she had come to expect from him. She knew without a doubt he wanted answers, but something was preventing him from asking. Or was it someone? Had Damon gotten to him? Had he told Galen the truth about her? About everything? No, she couldn’t believe that Galen Matthews would bow to pressure from any man. Something else had stopped him, and she could only worry about exactly how much the man knew about her and her past.

“Thanks for breakfast. Tomorrow I’ll take a turn,” she offered.

He didn’t bother turning from the sink as he answered. “If we have power. If we have a roof and if the generator hasn’t been blown to hell then I’ll be more than happy to eat breakfast with you.” She vaguely noticed he avoided saying eating her breakfast, but she didn’t have the energy to waste to argue with him.

Damn the man, even while spouting off dire predictions, he still made it sound as if they had a breakfast date the following morning. She needed time and space away from Galen. In the middle of a hurricane on an island she didn’t think there was a chance in hell she was going to get it.

Galen watched as Regin quickly retreated from the kitchen. He knew he’d confused her by not asking the questions she’d expected. He wanted to ask, but eating breakfast right before a major hurricane landed didn’t seem the best time for a heart-to-heart chat. He would have to bide his time and, when the weather cleared, he’d get all the answers he needed.

First he had to do a last check on the island and Regin’s cabin. The weather predictions were worse than what he’d let on. The storm was coming in quickly and he had to make sure everything was secure before it hit. After Fate arrived, it would be too late to do anything but sit tight and pray.

Galen hoped like hell Regin was as strong and resilient as he gave her credit for. If not, they were both in for a few miserable days.

He glared out the kitchen window, once more cursing Mother Nature, Elliot Renoir, and his own libido. Hurricane or not, he couldn’t be cooped up with someone as sexy and desirable as Regin Neff for more than two hours without taking her to bed and seeing if she was as tight and hot in reality as she was in his dreams.

****


They didn’t see each other for several hours.

Galen was busy with a last minute check over the property to ensure everything that could be done, had been done. Regin used the time to explore his grand house, surprised at the mixture of elegance and comfort combined in every room. She wondered if Galen worried about losing everything in the storm. He never commented one way or another.

Did this house and its contents mean nothing to him? Or was he so accustomed to the violent weather, he knew there was no use worrying about something he couldn’t control. He told her his family had been here for more than a hundred years. This house must have withstood more storms than could be counted.

The thought eased her mind along with the idea of the people who had lived and loved here once upon a time. They had none of the modern weather technology to warm them of impending danger, yet they had withstood whatever Mother Nature threw at them.

Glancing around, she felt surrounded by those souls knowing they still watched and guarded over their home. The thought should have frightened her, instead she felt more confident and secure.

She made her way to the third floor, stopping to stare out the wide clear glass windows that ran floor to ceiling and wall to wall. Regin couldn’t understand why Galen failed to board this window up as he had done with all the others. Surely he didn’t think the wind wouldn’t send it smashing to the ground when Fate hit. She hated to see something so beautiful and elegant lost in a cruel blast of wind. How could he have forgotten the largest window in his home? It didn’t make sense. But she was the first one to admit there were many things about Galen that didn’t make sense. She lifted her arm to touch the gleaming glass.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” his voice was husky as if afraid of startling her.
She didn’t turn around to face him. “Why didn’t you board it up like the rest of the windows?”

She could hear his soft footsteps as he crossed the distance between them. Then he was behind her. She could feel the heat of his body in the space separating them. Everything in her wanted to lean back and absorb his warmth and strength, to forget the nightmares and fear plaguing her nights.

But he wasn’t the kind of man a woman could lean on more than once or lean on for simple emotional support. He was a loner; someone more comfortable looking after themselves than another person. Galen would read more into her actions than the simple need for comfort. He would leave if he thought she was demanding more of him than the use of his body.

She resisted for both their sakes.

His arms came around her lifting her own to touch the clear window. He entwined their fingers making sure they touched the window at the same time.

She gasped in surprise. “It’s plastic.” Regin’s fingers moved over the perfectly clear surface, not believing the truth her touch relayed back to her. “How did you...where did you...?” She laughed in amazement at her loss for words.

He flashed a grin still touching the window. “After you’ve replaced a window this size a few dozens times, you become desperate.” He shrugged off the rest of his explanation, but Regin understood.

“Necessity is the mother of invention, right?” she quoted, noticing the slight flush spreading over his tanned cheeks.

“Something like that.” He wasn’t going to offer her anything more in the way of explanation, which in itself told Regin enough. It told her Galen had come up with the idea and the material to replace and preserve the window. He didn’t want to discuss it so she let it drop for now.

She laughed, a crazy idea forming in her mind. She tilted her face to him. “I want to dance in the rain.”

“You dance in this rain and you’ll be blown to Texas,” he warned her.

She laughed again and turned to face the storm again. “But when I’m eighty, I’ll always remember the night I danced in the rain to the tune of a hurricane named Fate with fairies watching from the woods.”

A brilliant streak of lighting flashed across the sky, lighting his reflection in front of her. Their eyes met and both noticed their still joined hands and closely pressed bodies. It took just that instant for her blood to begin pounding within her veins. Her response was so instant and unexpected; she didn’t have a chance to hide it from his knowing gaze.

She could see the desire in his eyes as they took in her image from the window. Hers were wide with shock and desire. Her nipples pressed against the thin cotton of her shirt. Her breathing was becoming more hitched and erratic. But she did nothing, could do nothing, but stand there and let him watch her reaction to his nearness.

“Regin.” Just her name softly whispered against her neck. The heat of his breath warmed her skin and sent shivers of desire all the way to her toes.

“This isn’t a good idea.” Her voice held no conviction. They both knew it. Resistance wasn’t possible for either one. Desire had been building from the day they’d met.


“It’s a horrible idea,” he agreed, while taking nibbling bites on her neck, running his tongue lightly on the curve of her ear feeling her body push back, seeking his hardness.

Her head fell back as his lips made their way around her neck while he gently turned her in his arms. Still he held back from giving her what she was close to begging for. She wanted to taste him on her tongue, to learn his flavor and absorb it.

Galen’s lips feathered across her face, lightly touching her cheeks, eyes, and nose before finally coming to rest on her mouth. There all his teasing ended. His lips moved over hers skillfully, powerfully, making her legs weaken and her body moist. His kiss was filled with passion and command, making her aware every moment that he was in control.

She clutched his arms to steady herself. Then forgot everything but his taste and touch. She pushed her body closer to his, absorbing his heat, his scent, his everything.

****


Galen knew it wasn’t a good idea. He told himself every reason he shouldn’t be touching Regin while his lips explored her face. He promised he would allow himself this small test then he would release her. He wanted one small sample, a tiny taste, the feel of her skin in his hands before he forced himself to relinquish her.

Every good intention flew out his head when she whimpered and pressed flush against his straining denim. “Galen.”

Gallantry be damned, he silently swore as he gave himself up to the heat of her mouth. Their mouths teased with tongues and lips seeking, thrusting, searching, and finding hidden corners. Mocking tongues jousted, mimicking the rocking of their hips. Where one went, the other followed, never seeming to get enough.

He pulled her hips deeper against his throbbing erection, rubbing her tightly against his fly, moaning at the pleasure and pain it caused. He wanted to fill his hands with the heavy weight of her breasts. He damned the clothes separating skin from skin and pulled her tighter against his groin. He wanted to rip the clothes from her body and thrust into her hard and fast, hear her scream his name as she came.

She whimpered low in her throat, wrapping one lean leg around his hip to push herself more fully into his hardness. He groaned with the shear pleasure of her hips rubbing fast against the straining denim of his jeans.

The groan must have startled her, that or the realization of exactly how hard he’d become. She stiffened, unwound her leg and jerked her lips away trying to break out of his hold. He allowed his arms to drop and waited for her reaction.

Her breathing was harsh and her skin was flushed with desire. Her eyes looked everywhere but at him. She rubbed her arms and retreated only to find her back was to the window she had admired such a short time ago. Finally, she lifted wide passion drugged eyes to his. “This can’t ever happen again.”

His body stiffened at hearing her words. He’d expected her to be wary, tentative, but not to deny the brain-melting desire flaring between them. Lust this powerful and consuming didn’t happen every day with everyone. Didn’t she know that? Or was this just a game she played—turn him on and leave him hard and helpless?

He spoke harshly. “The hell it can! You want me Regin. No one is that good without being paid for it.”

He could see anger replacing desire in her eyes. “Maybe not in your experience, but it makes no difference. This,” she waved her hand between their two heavily breathing bodies, “cannot happen again. I didn’t come here for an easy lay.” Regin attempted to brush by him, but he caught her arm forcing her to meet his heated stare.

“Lady, you have no idea of my experience and, as for being an easy lay...one more touch and you’d have been naked against that window with me deep inside you, screaming my name and loving every inch of me.” He shook her arm when she started to disagree.

“Don’t,” he warned her. “Lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me. I was the man with your tongue in his mouth and that hot little body rubbing all over mine. Yeah,” he assured her with a hot look. “I can and will have you, Regin. It’s just a matter of me saying when.” He dropped her arm and walked off.

****
“It didn’t mean anything. I won’t let his words hurt me.” Regin whirled from the bed she’d leaned against to stomp over to where Annie watched her nervous movements and listened to her rant. Regin had developed the habit of talking to her dog because she spent so much time alone and Annie never argued. “He probably didn’t mean what he said. The words were spoken in the heat of the moment, passionate in voice but meaningless in action, right Annie?”

It was several hours later and Regin stalked across her bedroom, fuming over the high-handed manner in which Galen had left her.

The storm outside raged. It battered the windows and moaned eerily, making her shiver in apprehension. This had to be one of the worst situations she’d ever gotten herself in. “I can’t wait till I talk with Tatum again. Restful vacation, my ass. If Tatum hadn’t sent me down to Nowheresville, Louisiana I wouldn’t be stuck in the middle of a hurricane, trapped on an island with the most infuriating, egotistical, and sexiest man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”

Regin turned and paced to the windows, fuming and making wild gestures. “His eyes should be outlawed or at least come with a warning label. Not to mention his lips and tongue, the man was a walking talking danger to women everywhere. I’m totally alone with him at his mercy.”

She gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of Galen Matthews having any mercy. He was too hard, too controlled, and too macho to ever be called merciful. She cursed again when she pictured just how hard he had been with her hips tightly pressed against his swollen groin. The man was a damned overachiever in everything it seemed.

Another crash of lighting sent Regin scurrying away from the boarded up window. She wanted to laugh at her early hurricane assumptions. “A little bit of wind and rain. There is nothing little about the storm pounding the roof and windows of the house. Think he’ll give us life vests when the house blows down?” she asked the dog whose only reply was a soft whimper as if she could understand her mistresses words.

The wind never slackened, if anything it seemed to intensify, trying to force its way through the wooden barriers to the heart of the house. The heavy rain added its own power, slashing in every direction seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Regin didn’t know what was worse, the anxiety over the storm outside or her trepidation over the man inside. If she were given the option at that very moment, she was defiantly leaning toward the storm.

“The storm will only kill me. Galen might be capable of breaking my heart, and I don’t know how to stop him, Annie. If only he’d stayed that cruel, repressed, ignorant hillbilly I thought he was. He could have made my life so much easier. But now, I don’t know what to think of him.”

There were too many things about Galen Matthews that didn’t add up. Tatum hadn’t given her much information about him. Of course her friend hadn’t told her she would be arriving in the middle of hurricane season, either.

Tatum simply said that Galen knew the area, had his own island with a guest cottage, and had agreed to teach her about camping and fishing in this area.

From the first moment they’d met, he’d had a gun in hand and a warning to be wary of strangers, even though he himself was a stranger. His eyes never seemed to rest. He was always scanning the area, looking behind trees and bushes as if expecting someone to attack at any minute. His body was strong and lean. He’d lifted and heaved the cottage furniture without breaking a sweat. She knew he was in better shape than the average gym rat.