âWhat are we doing?â Regan asked.
âListening,â Kai told her. âShh,â he said, close to her ear and barely putting sound behind the words. âTo learn.â He stroked her hand with his thumb again.
Reganâs hand jerked beneath his.
âShh,â he said again, coming back to himself. âYouâre safe. Youâre â¦â His voice trailed off; he seemed suddenly aware that his head had tipped forward against hers, that her pale gold hair tickled his face and the beguiling scent of it tickled his nose. His hand had slipped around her waist to press across her stomach, and he was suddenly aware of the flutter in her breathing. âRegan,â he murmured, and nuzzled behind her ear.
âNot safe at all,â she whispered. And she turned in his arms, her hand coming up to cup his cheek; he leaned into it as she leaned in to him, her mouth closing in on his.
DORANNA DURGIN spent her childhood filling notebooks first with stories and art, and then with novels. After obtaining a degree in wild-life illustration and environmental education, she spent a number of years deep in the Appalachian Mountains. When she emerged, it was as a writer irrevocably tied to the natural world and its creatures.
Doranna received the 1995 Compton Crook/Stephen Tall Award for best first book in the fantasy, science-fiction and horror genres; she now has over fifteen novels spanning an array of eclectic genres, including paranormal romance, on the shelves. When sheâs not writing, Doranna builds web pages, enjoys photography and works with horses and dogs. You can find a complete list of her titles at www.doranna.net.
Chapter 1
You may have driven my mother mad, but you wonât do it to me.
Regan Adler gazed out at the intensely rugged vista of the Sacramento Mountainsâvast slopes of ponderosa pine, towering cliffs and deep blue sky, all nearly nine thousand feet high. It should have been inspiring; it should have been invigorating.
Regan scowled out over that beauty. âDonât you dare talk back to me,â she muttered at it.
The land said nothing back. After a moment, her sturdy blue roan gelding snorted impatience, and Regan released a breath she hadnât realized sheâd been holding. The geldingâs winter hair curled damply under her hand as she patted his neck; heâd shed out in another month or so, but the April noonday sun already beat down hard, and theyâd covered only half the generous acreage attached to the Adler family cabin.
For now, Regan Adler focused on getting reacquainted with this place to which sheâd vowed sheâd never return.
âYeah,â she said, when the horse snorted again, bobbing his head in suggestion. âItâs not your fault that Dadâs away, is it?â Or that Regan was trapped here, caretaking the place for some unknown length of time while her father recuperated from a back injury with his brother in El Paso. Although he was still a man in his prime, this was no place for a manâor womanâwho couldnât hold his own against winter snow, the woodstove or the long hike off the mountain if the truck didnât start.
Another shift of her weight, and the horse moved forward again, placing his feet carefully in spite of the spirit in his movement. Sheâd already come to appreciate this canny little mustang and his responsive nature; his good judgment left her free to hunt the boundary markers on a land that hardly seemed changed since sheâd been here last.
The horse snorted again, but it held a different sound; it came with a head raised and small ears pricked forward. Regan sat deliberately still in the saddle, quiet and balanced and waiting.
Plenty of bear up in these parts. Plenty of tree trunks and shadows and juts of land to hide a bear even nearby.
âShh,â Regan said softly as the horse trembled briefly beneath her. âItâs not exactly safe to go bolting off through the woods, either.â
Neither ear swiveled back to acknowledge her. Not good. âI was thinking admiring thoughts about you a moment ago,â she told the horse, laying one hand on that sweaty neckâfeeling the tension there. âIâm trusting you to keep me safe.â
Safe...
The word eased through her mind, an unwelcome susurrus in her thoughts. Oh, just perfect.
Safe...
âI heard you the first time,â she snapped. âStay out of my head!â
Even silent, the whisper crawled across her skin.
Regan gritted her teeth. You may have driven my mother mad, but you wonât get me.
And the horse exploded into bucking beneath her.