“I never thought I wanted anything bad enough to go somewhere else looking for it.”

“Do you now?” Pops slid the chicken out of the oven and set the tray on top of the stove.

Rooke’s first instinct was to say she wasn’t looking for anything, but she didn’t think that was exactly true. She’d always known something was missing by the quiet ache that followed her around all the time, as if there were an empty place inside her where something belonged, but she couldn’t say what. Most of the time she filled that space with the solid comfort of the figures she carved, and sometimes when she needed more, with the sounds of Emma’s pleasure. She hadn’t been able to find solace in the stone all week, and even if Emma had come to her, she would not have been able to lose herself in the simple comfort they’d once shared. She feared if she touched Emma now she would not be able to bear the loneliness of remaining untouched.

“I don’t know what I want,” Rooke said hoarsely, wondering if she would find the answers in New York City. Melinda seemed to believe she would. She’d called every day, checking on the plans to ship the sculptures, explaining to Rooke some of the events she had lined up to promote the launch, and teasing Rooke about becoming a star. Melinda kept telling her she was special. Sometimes the way she said it, her voice husky and slow, made Rooke tighten inside.

“Sit down and eat,” Pops said. “You haven’t been out of your shop more than a few hours in the last four days.”

“I had those markers to finish,” Rooke said, doing what she was told. She hadn’t realized she was hungry until she started to eat.

“Things at the Winchester place going to be okay until you get back?”

“I need to clear that tree before I leave and check the roof.”

Pops gave her an inquisitive look. “Getting kind of late in the day, isn’t it?”

“I’ll take care of it.” Rooke was afraid to see Adrian, afraid to feel the distance that had been there the last time she’d seen her. It hurt, and she didn’t know how to change it.

v

• 171 •

RADcLY fFe

Adrian paused, trying to place the sound that had intruded on her silence. In the city she was surrounded by the noise of millions of people, and she automatically relegated it to the periphery of her consciousness. On assignment she was completely different, always hyperalert to any change in the resonance of wildlife and humans that might signal danger. Today she’d been pulled from her work as if an unseen presence whispered her name. Setting aside the copy she’d been reviewing, she went to the kitchen window and scanned the yard.

Rooke’s truck was parked at the foot of the drive, and Adrian now recognized the rumble of the chainsaw Dominic used to dismember the fallen oak. She braced her arms on the counter and watched them work. She hadn’t expected to see Rooke until Monday, and she hadn’t let herself think about how much she missed her. She didn’t want to examine the meaning behind her restless nights and fractured days, or why she’d never felt this way before. But with Rooke just outside, she couldn’t resist the pure pleasure of looking at her. So, safe inside the house, she indulged herself.

Rooke was hatless and her hair blew around her angular face like a dark halo as she lifted a thick branch Dominic had cut free from the tangle of fallen limbs and dragged it out of the driveway. After a few minutes, Rooke removed her jacket and worked in nothing but a close-fitting flannel shirt and jeans. She looked even more slender than Adrian remembered, but the strength in her shoulders and back was obvious as she bent, and lifted, and tossed the fresh-cut logs aside with ease. Muscles bunched inside her jeans, and Adrian couldn’t help but remember the way the hard curves of Rooke’s ass had fit so naturally to her pelvis when they’d stood close together on top of the dresser in the attic that first night. The whispered memory of Rooke’s thumb brushing over the top of her hand triggered a kaleidoscope of images and sensations, ambushing her. Her vision flared red with the crimson of Rooke’s blood running over her hands, the scarlet flames from the hearth in the Great Hall, the claret drops of rain on a window. Ruby tears streaking her face in the shadows on a midnight train. Adrian shuddered, aching to be touched, to be filled, for the fires of passion to purify her.

“God,” Adrian gasped. Her breasts were tight, her sex wet and hollow with urgency. She kept her hands anchored on the cool tile counter. The wild filaments of her need and desire coalesced into

• 172 •

SecretS in the Stone

a single hard, hot fist in the center of her being. And then, Say yes, Melinda whispered. Adrian jerked, her knees buckling with the keening pressure, and orgasm threatened to flow on the river of sharp, swift pain. She fought the swell of release, staring through dry, unblinking eyes at Rooke, who had stopped work and was fixed on her, framed in the window.

“Please,” Adrian implored, her words barely audible. Rooke’s face swam in her hazy consciousness as she fought to expel other voices, other hands. The shadow of the warrior flickered in the firelight on the towering stone walls. A great sword, shimmering with power, cleaved her in two and the chaos that had almost consumed her faded.

“Thank you,” Adrian sighed, pressing her palm to the glass. She started to smile, started to say, Come inside, I’ve missed you, but every thought, every intention, died on a tide of horror as a spear, glinting golden in the sunlight, struck Rooke in the temple, and she fell.

• 173 •

• 174 •

SecretS in the Stone

ChapTER TwEnTy

Fuck!” Dominic dropped to his knees next to Rooke’s supine form. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! ”

“Don’t touch her!” Adrian shouted, flying down the icy drive. She threw herself between Rooke’s body and Dominic, striking him on both shoulders with her outstretched arms, knocking him backward into the snow. “Don’t you touch her!”

Terrified at what she might find, Adrian bent over Rooke, shielding her from dangers she felt but couldn’t see. Garnet jewels lay scattered on the snow around Rooke’s head, glinting brilliantly. Rooke’s blood.

Shiny maroon trails snaked down Rooke’s still face from a gash just above her right eyebrow. Something white gleamed in the depth of the wound. Bone. A scream lodged in Adrian’s throat.

“Rooke. Rooke, sweetheart.” She hovered over Rooke’s body, afraid to touch her. What would she find? Oh God, let her not be gone.

“Rooke, please.”

“She okay?” Dominic yelled frantically.

“She’s not moving!” Adrian’s voice came out a broken whisper.

Oh God. Oh God, baby, who did this to you?

“Adrian?” Dominic yelled in a panic.

“Call nine-one-one,” Adrian called more forcefully, pulling herself together. When she had needed Rooke, Rooke was there. Now Rooke needed her. She’d seen plenty of emergencies, and she concentrated on doing what she could. She stretched for Rooke’s jacket hanging from a nearby branch of the downed tree, pulled it free, and covered her.

“You’re going to be all right. Do you hear me? You’re going to be all right.”

• 175 •

RADcLY fFe

Rooke’s lids flickered open and she jerked, as if surprised to be awake. “Adrian?”

“Yes, yes—I’m right here.” Adrian’s fingers shook as she caressed Rooke’s cheek. She was wonderfully warm, magnificently alive, perfectly beautiful. “Do you know where you are?”

“Your front yard. Why is Dom sitting in a snowbank?”

“I knocked him on his ass.” Adrian’s laugh came out on a sob of relief. She found Rooke’s hand and clutched it between both of hers.

Rooke’s fingers were ice cold. For a heartbeat Adrian saw the ruins of a great castle, crumbling stones lying half buried under grassy mounds of earth, the huge hearth empty and barren. Nowhere could she sense the sword bearer, no guardian stood on the parapets. She swallowed around the choking loss and smiled at Rooke. “You have to start wearing gloves.”

“Never liked them.” Rooke shuddered. “What hit me?”

“A tree branch masquerading as a spear.”

“Are you all right?”

“Just a little scared.” Adrian held Rooke’s hand against her heart.

“How are you?”

“Okay, I think.” Rooke squeezed Adrian’s hand. “Shouldn’t have left my shield at home, I guess.”

“Next time you forget, I’ll lend you mine,” Adrian tried to joke.

Rooke was as white as the snow that pillowed her head, and Adrian couldn’t help but think about the scar on her forehead. She’d suffered a terrible head injury once already, and another blow like this one could seriously damage her.

Rooke must have read her fears, because she started to sit up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, stay still.” Adrian quickly pressed a hand to Rooke’s shoulder.

“We should wait for the ambulance.”

“I’ll freeze to death by then.” Rooke smiled as Dominic scrambled over and crouched down on Rooke’s opposite side. “Hey, Dom? How about helping me up here.”

Dominic regarded Adrian warily. “Fuck me, Rooke. I don’t how that happened. I cut through a limb and the damn thing took off like a missile. Jesus. You okay?”

“Of course she’s not okay,” Adrian snapped. “Look at her forehead.”

• 176 •

SecretS in the Stone

“I called the EMTs,” Dominic muttered.

“Give me a hand getting to the truck,” Rooke said.

Adrian kept her hold on Rooke’s shoulder, preventing her from rising. The bleeding had stopped, but Rooke’s pain was so clear to her, Adrian felt dizzy. “I don’t think you should move. You were unconscious.”

“I think I was mostly shocked,” Rooke said, her eyes on Adrian’s.

“I remember getting hit. I heard you yelling at Dom. I heard you say my name. I heard you the whole time.”