Amanda Ashley (29 page)

Forever, Alexander mused as he saved the file and exited the program. He had stayed in Moulton Bay too long. It was time to move on. Time to find a new place to live, a new name, a new identity. For him, it wouldn't be hard. He had no family to leave behind, no ties to bind him to one place. He could abandon civilization, hide out in a jungle in the Amazon until Barrett was dead . . .

“Alexander?”

He whirled around, startled to see Kara standing in the doorway. It was the first time she had taken him unawares. “I thought you had turned in for the night.”

Kara shrugged. “I'm not tired.”

“I am.” He stood up, his chair between them. “I'm going to bed.”

“No, you're not.”

He arched one thick black brow. “No?”

“Not until we get this straightened out.”

“Get what straightened out?”

“I want to know where you think you're going without me, and why.”

Too late, he realized that while he was writing he had neglected to maintain the barrier between his mind and hers.

She crossed her arms over her breasts and regarded him solemnly. “I'm waiting.”

Alex stared at her. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of his socks, and nothing else. She should have looked ridiculous; instead, she looked young and innocent and vastly appealing. Her legs were long and slender. A wave of heat suffused him as he imagined them wrapped around his waist.

“I'm going to bed,” he said firmly, and brushed past her before she could stop him.

In his room, he shut the door, stripped off his sweater, then went to the window and stared into the darkness. He had to get her out of here. She'd never be safe with him, not until Barrett was no longer a threat. Until then, he had to find her a refuge of some kind. But where?

He went suddenly still as the door opened.

“I'm still waiting.”

Her scent, soap mingled with toothpaste and strawberry shampoo, was intoxicating. Hands clenched at his sides, he glanced over his shoulder. “Go to bed, Kara.”

“All right.”

Too late, he remembered there was only one bed in the house—his—and she was walking toward it.

“Kara . . .” He raked his hands through his hair, then shoved them into his pockets to keep from sweeping her into his arms.

She sat on the edge of the mattress looking up at him. “I'm listening.”

“Have you always been this stubborn?”

“Pretty much.”

“Kara, I don't want to cause you any more trouble.”

“Then don't.” She patted the mattress invitingly.

Alex shook his head. “Kara, please . . .” The words, meant to be a firm denial, fell from his lips
like a prayer. “I'm only thinking of you.”

“I know, but I'm a big girl, Alex. I can make my own decisions. You promised to love me and defend me,” she reminded him quietly. “You promised me your life, Alexander Claybourne, promised you would be mine for as long as you lived. Have you forgotten?”

“No.”

“Have you stopped loving me?”

“No.”

“I promised to stay by your side in good times and bad. Would you send me away and make me break that promise?”

He groaned low in his throat, as if her words had pierced his heart.

“Would you?”

“To save your life, I would do anything. Anything. Even send you away.”

“You've never done me any harm. Giving me your blood saved my life.”

“Getting you pregnant could be fatal.”

“I'm willing to take that chance.”

“I'm not.”

“Isn't it a little late to worry about that now?”

Her words cut through him like a knife through water. What if she was already pregnant?

“I didn't mean it like that,” Kara said quickly. “I only meant we've already made love numerous times and nothing bad has happened. Maybe you're worrying for nothing. Maybe you were right, and it isn't possible for us to have a child.”

“And maybe it is.” He looked at her, sitting on the bed, her beautiful blue eyes warm with love, and wondered what kind of monster he was that he wanted nothing more than to go to her, to wrap her
in his arms and bury himself deep within her.

“You're not a monster, Alex.” She smiled as a low groan rumbled in his throat. “Now you know how I felt when you were reading my mind.”

“Kara, what am I going to do with you?”

“Love me, Alex. Just love me as I love you.”

“With my dying breath,
natayah.
”

“Prove it.”

He shook his head. “Since I can't make you listen to reason, I'll make a bargain with you.”

She tilted her head to one side. “A bargain?”

“No more lovemaking between us until we're sure you're not already pregnant.”

“And then?”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “One of us will be neutered.”

“Neutered!” she exclaimed, horrified by the idea. “What's wrong with just using a contraceptive?”

“None of them are foolproof.”

“Neutered.” She said the word as if it tasted bad. “Which one of us?” Kara shook her head as his gaze slid away from hers. “No, Alex, I can't . . .”

“I can't go to a hospital, or a doctor's office, Kara. I can't take a chance like that.”

“But . . .” She bit down on her lower lip. She wanted to shout at him, to scream that she wanted children, his children if she could have them.

“Perhaps it's time for you to re-think our relationship, Kara, to make sure you understand what you're giving up.”

Kara stared up at him, mute. She didn't want to re-think anything. She didn't want to live without Alex, and yet the thought of permanently putting an end to any hope of having children silenced the denial that rose to her lips.

“I'll sleep on the sofa,” Alex said, and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Kara stared at the door. To be sterile. Never to have children. Even adoption might be out of the question. She didn't know what legalities were involved in adopting a child. She was certain that Alex must have a phony birth certificate. He drove a car, so he probably had a driver's license. He earned money, so he probably had a social security number. A harsh laugh escaped her lips. In two hundred years, he had probably accumulated numerous forms of identification.

Alien.

Two hundred years.

It hit her then, really hit her for the first time. Alex was an alien. He had told her that people were the same all over, and yet he was still from another planet, another race of people. What if she did get pregnant? What might the result be? Images of newborn babies flashed through her mind—babies with four arms and two heads, babies with skin like leather, babies with three eyes . . .

She was letting her imagination run wild and she knew it. Alex was perfectly healthy and so was she. If they were able to conceive a child, there was no reason why they couldn't have a perfectly formed baby. It was far more likely that she would be unable to conceive at all, and that brought her back to her original quandary. Did she love Alex enough to give up all hope of ever being a mother? But even as she asked herself that question, she knew there was more involved, much more. What would happen to their relationship when she aged and he did not? How would they ever be free of Barrett? Did she want to spend her whole life looking over her
shoulder? Even if they changed their names and left the country, she'd always be waiting, wondering if Barrett was still looking for them. And what about Nana and Gail? Barrett had used her sister and grandmother to get to her in the past; she knew he wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

And then she thought of a life without Alex, and knew she would make any sacrifice necessary to be with him.

Rising, she went to stand at the window. It was raining. She stared at the downpour through eyes blurred by tears and knew the cloudburst outside was nothing compared to the storm raging in her heart.

Alex wandered through the house, acutely aware of Kara's turbulent emotions. No doubt she would leave him now. It would be for the best. She deserved a normal life, with a man who could share the daylight with her, give her children, grow old at her side. She deserved to be happy, secure. Living with him would always carry an element of danger. If she wanted to go to the zoo, to the beach, on a picnic, for a walk in the park on a summer day, she would have to go alone.

Feeling as if the walls were closing in on him, he went out into the backyard and let the rain wash over him.

How would he go on without her? If his life had seemed empty before, how much more desolate would it be now, when he had known Kara's love, heard her laughter, felt the touch of her hand? And yet, no matter how much he loved her, he could not give her the kind of life she deserved.

He wanted her to be happy.

He wanted to carry her back to his mountain lair and never let her go.

He wanted a home and a family, the love and companionship of a woman with dreamy blue eyes, the sound of a child's laughter.

He wanted Kara.

And yet he knew the best thing he could do for her was get out of her life.

And he knew, with a certainty that was too awful to be borne, that he didn't have the strength to do what was right; he knew that, if his weakness was the cause of her death, he would have nothing left to live for. If that day came, he would walk out into the sun and let it destroy him.

Burdened with a weight of sorrow too heavy to bear, he sank to his knees, his tears mingling with the rain.

Kara stared at the lone figure standing in the yard. Rain pelted his head and chest, soaking his trousers. She didn't have to probe his mind to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling. His pain was hers. His thoughts were her thoughts. She felt his loneliness, his yearning for a home and a family, his fear for her life should she become pregnant, the strong sense of guilt that everything that had happened to her was his fault. He wanted her, but he was afraid, afraid for her life, her future, afraid of causing her pain.

She pressed her hand to her heart as he dropped to his knees, his head bowed, as if in surrender.

She was the cause of his anguish. The knowledge that he was hurting because of her cut her to the quick.

A heavy sigh shuddered through her as she realized what she had to do. For his sake, she would
leave him, now, tonight. In time, he would forget her. He might even find someone else to love. In time.

She laughed softly as she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and crept down the stairs and out the front door. If there was one thing Alex had plenty of, it was time.

She was soaked to the skin, chilled to the marrow of her bones, by the time she reached Nana's. The house was dark, the front door locked. Her Camry was parked in the driveway. Nana must have had it towed home from the hospital in Grenvale.

Making her way toward the rear of the house, Kara took the key from its hiding place underneath a flowerpot and let herself in the back door.

Not wanting to alert anyone who might be watching the house for her return, she made her way through the dark house toward her bedroom. Shedding the wet blanket, Alex's t-shirt and socks, she pulled on a black sweatshirt and a pair of fleece-lined sweats, thick cotton socks, and a pair of running shoes.

She was feeling her way along the top of her dresser, looking for her comb, when she discovered
her handbag. Inside, she found her wallet and car keys, which she shoved into the pocket of her jeans.

She towel-dried her hair, ran a comb through it, then went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of strong black coffee.

Where would Gail and Nana go?

She pondered the question as she finished her coffee; then, setting the cup aside, she went into the bathroom she had shared with Gail and closed the door before flipping on the night light.

Ever since Gail had learned to read and write, she had loved to leave notes for her sister. Usually, the notes had been silly jokes, sometimes they were hurriedly scrawled apologies for using Kara's make-up. Gail had always left the notes in a blue and white tin container that had once held perfumed bath salts. Kara had kept the canister because she liked the design, and it had become their private mailbox.

Hardly daring to hope, Kara picked up the canister and removed the lid. Murmuring a silent prayer, she withdrew a rolled-up piece of paper.

Switching off the light, Kara left the bathroom and went into the kitchen. According to the clock on the microwave, it was just after midnight.

She poured herself another cup of coffee, then sat at the kitchen table, wondering if it was safe to spend the night in her own bed, or if she should go to a motel.

Lost in thought, she listened to the rain beat against the aluminum patio cover. No doubt Alex would think she had left him because she didn't love him enough to accept the sacrifices she would have to make to stay with him, when nothing could be further from the truth. She had left him because she did love him, because she couldn't bear to see the pain in his eyes and know she was the cause. She knew in her heart that if anything happened to her, Alex would never forgive himself.

But, oh, how she yearned for the comfort of his arms around her! She wasn't afraid of anything when she was with him. He made her feel strong, invincible. With Alex at her side, she could face anything. Anything, except knowing she was the cause of his sorrow.

Feeling heavy-hearted and more alone than she'd ever felt in her life, she went into her room and gathered up a blanket and her pillow and climbed up into the attic.