Sunshine and the Shadowmaster by Christine Rimmer Page B

succeeded in touching her cheek.
    â€œYou’re afraid,” he accused in a rough whisper. “Afraid to let me touch you.”
    â€œI...” Her mind went blank. She had no idea what to say.
    He said pointedly, “ You touched me last night.”
    She backed up another step, toward the end of the couch.
    â€œOr was that only my imagination?” His voice was heavy with irony.
    Heather bit her lip and shook her head.
    â€œWell, then...” He waited.
    She made herself say something. “I shouldn’t have done that. Touched you. Last night.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œYou know why. It’s not right.”
    â€œBecause I’m Jason Lee’s brother?”
    Her heart was beating deep and fast. She forced herself to answer him. “Yes. Because of Jason Lee. Because of everything.”
    â€œJason Lee is dead.”
    She only stared at him. What was there to say to that?
    He wouldn’t let it go. “You still love him, don’t you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou’re one of those women who thinks she has to be in love to make love, right?”
    He was mocking her again. But she wasn’t going to let that sway her. She had her beliefs and she lived by them. “Yes, I am.”
    â€œThere are other reasons for two people to touch.” Now his voice was silky. Soft and tempting. Dangerous.
    â€œWhat reasons?” she asked in a dazed voice before she could stop herself.
    And he told her. “Pleasure. Forgetfulness. Comfort. Making love can soothe pain, help you forget your loneliness for a while.”
    Heather tried not to think that what he said made a scary kind of sense. “None of those reasons are enough for me.”
    â€œThey’re not?” He sounded sad, then.
    She clung to her principles, though she couldn’t stop thinking that he was right. She knew loneliness so intimately, since her husband had died. And principles were cold consolation in the deepest part of a solitary night.
    â€œI told you,” she said, surprised at how firm her voice sounded. “I had everything. When I let another man close to me, it won’t be to settle for less than what I had before.”
    Lucas let out a long breath. His eyes were so strange, so haunting, so keen. They seemed to see right inside her mind, to know that she wasn’t really as steadfast in her conviction as she wanted to be.
    In fact, if he were to try to touch her again, she wasn’t absolutely certain she would stop him....
    But he didn’t try.
    He only murmured a rueful, “You’re right, of course.” Then he whispered a gentle good-night and left her standing there.
    * * *
    The next morning was like the morning before. Neither of them mentioned what had occurred in the night.
    But the air was thick with tension. Too much had been said to pretend anymore that nothing was going on between them. So they tread cautiously with each other. They avoided eye contact. They spoke only when they had to.
    Lucas ate his breakfast quickly and left before dawn. Heather was relieved to see him go. She poured herself a second cup of coffee and sat down at the table again, thinking she’d relax a little before Tawny came and it was time to head over to Lily’s and another day of fielding reporters and praying every time the phone rang that it would be good news about Mark.
    But she just couldn’t sit still. She dumped her coffee down the drain and went upstairs to finish getting ready for work.
    The day was a waking nightmare. It crawled by without a single bit of news about Mark. At Lily’s there was talk of mountain lions. And how easy it would be for a boy to tumble down an abandoned mine shaft, or fall into the river and drown.
    Heather spent her time trying not to listen to the grim chatter, messing up her orders and doing her best not to think about Lucas and the night before. Her shift was over at three. When she walked out onto the street and