Sanctuary

anymore.”
    She was vibrating with fury, her eyes fired with it, her color high and glowing. He’d never seen anything, or anyone, more magnificent. “Of all the things I imagined you’d say to me tonight, this wasn’t it. I’d prepared myself to lose you. I hadn’t prepared myself to keep you.”
    “I’m not a damn cuff link, Nathan.”
    The laugh came as a surprise, felt rusty in his throat. “I can’t decide what I should say to you. All I can think of is that I love you.”
    “That might be enough, if you were holding on to me when you said it.”
    His eyes stayed on hers as he walked toward her. His arms were tentative at first, then tightened, tightened until he buried his face in her hair. “I love you.” Emotions swamped him as he drew in the scent of her, the taste of her skin against his lips. “I love you, Jo Ellen. Every part of you.”
    “Then we’ll make it enough. We won’t let this be taken away.” Her voice was low and fierce. “We won’t.”

    HE lay very still, hoping she slept.
    The woman beside him, the woman he loved, was in danger, the source of which was too abhorrent to him to name. He would protect her, with his life if necessary. He would kill to keep her safe, whatever the cost.
    And he would hope that what they had together survived it.
    There was no avoiding it. They had stolen a moment, taken something for themselves. But what haunted them, from twenty years before and now, would have to be faced.
    “Nathan, I have to tell my family.” In the dark she reached for his hand. “I need to find the right time and the right way. I want you to leave that to me.”
    “You have to let me be there, Jo. It should be done your way, but not alone.”
    “All right. But there are other things that need to be handled, need to be done.”
    “You need protection.”
    “Don’t try to go white knight on me, Nathan. I find it irritating.” The lazy comment ended on a gasp when he hauled her up to her knees.
    “Nothing happens to you.” His eyes gleamed dangerously in the dark. “Whatever it takes, I’m going to see to that.”
    “You’d better start by calming yourself down,” she said evenly. “I’m of a mind that nothing happens to either of us. So we have to start thinking, and we have to start doing.”
    “There are going to be rules, Jo. The first is that you don’t go anywhere alone. You don’t step off your own porch by yourself until this is over.”
    “I’m not my mother, I’m not Ginny, I’m not Susan Peters. I’m not defenseless, or stupid or naive. I will not be hunted for someone’s sport.”
    Because a show of temper would only wound her pride and make her angry, he latched on to calm. “If necessary, I’ll haul you off the island just the way I hauled you here tonight. I’ll take you somewhere safe and I’ll lock you in. All it’ll take to avoid that unhappy event is your promise not to go anywhere alone.”
    “You have an inflated image of your own capabilities.”
    “Not in this case I don’t.” He caught her chin in his hand. “Look at me, Jo. Look at me. You’re everything. I’ll take anything else, I’ll face anything else, but I won’t face losing you. Not again.”
    She trembled once, not from anger or fear but from the swift, hard flood of emotion. “No one’s ever loved me this much. I can’t get used to it.”
    “Practice—and promise.”
    “I won’t go anywhere by myself.” She let out a sigh. “This relationship business is nothing but a maze of concessions and compromises. That’s probably why I’ve managed to avoid it all this time.” She sat back on her heels. “We’re not going to stand around and just let things happen. I’m not the only woman on the island.” She trembled again. “I’m not Annabelle’s only daughter.”
    “No, we’re not going to stand around and wait. I’m going to make some calls, gather any information on Kyle’s accident that I might have missed before. I wasn’t thorough. It wasn’t an easy time, and I might have let something slip by.”
    “What about his friends, his finances?”
    “I don’t know a lot about either. We weren’t as close the last few years as we used to be.” Nathan rose to open the windows and let in the air. “We drifted into different places, became different people.”
    “What kind of a person did he become?”
    “He was ... I guess you’d call him a present-focused sort. He was interested in now—seize the moment and wring it dry.