He didn't turn loose of her, but she no longer struggled and he held her tight. For long minutes he just held her, giving her the hug she'd said she never had.

Rainey let one tear fall and drop onto his shirt. Her breathing slowed and she felt surrounded by his warmth. It had been so long since she'd felt safe, truly safe. He offered what her father never had, but it was too late, she decided. She'd been cold too long for any fire to warm her.

After a while he whispered, "You all right?"

She pulled an inch away. "I'm fine, but I'm not a child. You don't have to protect me, Travis. Or give me hugs."

He smiled down at her. "It wasn't you," he said. "It was me. I've wanted to hold you all day long. For some reason I find it very hard to keep from touching you." He watched her as if expecting her to say something.

Rainey stood and was thankful he didn't try to keep her from doing so. "You can walk me back, Travis, but only as a friend. I'm not ready for more. I'm not sure I will ever be." She felt she had to admit more. "It's not you. I think you are a wonderful man. It's me." She didn't turn around to see his eyes. She didn't want to know how her words probably hurt him. How could she begin to tell him that she had to believe in herself before she could believe in anyone else?

"Because of your criminal past?" he asked from behind her.

"No," she answered. She couldn't tell him that she'd run away to prove something not only to her father, but to herself. She had to know that she could stand on her own. Rainey wasn't sure she could ever be happy living and depending on a man. She'd seen her mother too unhappy. She'd seen her waste away believing herself worthless. Rainey never wanted to feel that way again. "We need to say goodbye." She waited a moment and added, "I'm not the right kind of woman a man like you should have."

"If that is the way you want it, I'll not argue tonight." He tugged on his coat, picked up his cane. He seemed angry, as if he heard more in her words than she'd said. "There is a door off the hall that will take us to the garden." His voice was cold, totally in control. "I'll open Sage's door in case Duck wakes."

They walked side by side, not touching into the cold night air. Though he used his cane, his steps were faster than before, making her almost run to catch up. They were back to the alley entrance in minutes. He took her hand as they moved through the alley, but there was only purpose in his touch, no gentleness.

When they stood at the open window, he reached to help her in, but she stepped back. She didn't want it to end like this, with him cold to her. He had a right to know that she was stepping out of his life because of her needs, not her feelings toward him.

"What is it?" he asked, as if in a hurry to leave.

"I don't want it to end like this between us."

"Right. You just want it to end." He almost mumbled the last words. "I'm not your kind."

She could see his outline. He looked as granite hard as he had that first night they met and the cowhands confronted him about being a stranger. There was so much she wanted to say, she feared that if she started talking she'd never stop. He probably didn't want to know how dull her life had been or how unloved she'd been. Or, worse, how willing she'd been to accept it all until the very last.

She moved back in place and felt his hands circle her waist, ready to lift her up.

"One last thing, Rainey, if that even is your name," he whispered against her ear. "Why'd you come to warn me if you're not attracted to me? Why'd you kiss me back on the capital steps and again in the hallway tonight? Were you just playing me like the barmaids plan to?"

She turned, but couldn't see his face. "I am attracted to you. How dare you think of me as a liar."

He laughed, hard and unbelieving. "I should have known you'd play it to the end. You'd think I'd learn."

Rainey had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn't like the idea that he thought she'd somehow used him and lied to him. "I didn't kiss you for any reason than because I wanted to, you idiot. In truth, I had no idea how wonderful a kiss could be until you, and I thank you for that memory."

"Stop lying to me," he hissed.

Before Rainey thought, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

For a moment, the sound echoed off the walls of the alley, then the silence smothered every sound except that of her breathing.

She didn't know what to say. She had too much pride to apologize and too little bravery to tell him the full story. Straightening, she prepared for him to hit her. Her father would have hit her mother-she'd seen it a hundred times when she was growing up. Her mother would make the wrong move, say the wrong thing. Her father would glance around to make sure no one from the school saw, then he'd double up his fist and with one blow knock her to the floor. He'd learned over the years never to hit his wife in the face, but when he'd finish, he'd step over her and mumble, "Silly woman," as he left.

Rainey waited. There was nowhere to run. She had to stand her ground even knowing that one blow from this man, a foot taller than her father, might kill her.

He didn't raise his hand to his face, or to her. He just stood very still. Finally he said. "What are you waiting for? Go."

She fought to keep her voice from shaking. "I'm waiting for you to hit me. I'll not cower or say I'm sorry."

His hand moved and she braced for the blow, but he only rubbed his cheek. "I guess I deserved that slap. You can't help the way you feel. Lots of folks are afraid of my Apache blood. But, no matter what you say, I have no intention of ever hitting you or any woman."

"I should probably even be the one saying I'm sorry. I guessed, since we'd never talked about it, that my blood didn't matter to you. After all, you were at our ranch. You must have seen my father's tartan and my mother's wedding beads in the great room. You knew they came from two worlds." He laughed. "Which pretty much makes me belong in neither."

Suddenly Rainey understood why he'd called her a liar. He truly thought she wasn't attracted to him. "I've never given one thought to your blood, Travis. Of course I knew the story of your parents. The only thing I've ever thought about was. that you were the only one lucky enough to get your mother's brown eyes."

She wished she could see him. It all seemed clear now, his awkwardness around her. He was afraid she'd reject him. And she had rejected him, but it had nothing to do with him.

"The reason I have to say goodbye to you is mine, not yours," she tried. "But believe me, I'll always remember your kiss."

"So, the attraction was there." He sounded doubtful. "I didn't imagine it."

"It was there," she whispered. "It still is."

"Then there is only one way for us to say goodbye."

He leaned forward and lifted her off her feet. For a moment, he held her up, then lowered her mouth slowly to his lips. She knew this was the way they had to say goodbye. The only way that would be right. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him.

At first he offered a gentle kiss that warmed her insides. Then, as she kissed him back, he shifted his stance and leaned her against the wall, pressing his body like a warm blanket over her. The kiss deepened.

She felt like she was melting in his embrace. He wasn't demanding but offering her a pleasure she never knew existed. The gentleness surprised her, and like a slow moving current, she floated with it.

She could feel his heart pounding against her as his chest pressed her breasts. With each breath he seemed to be caressing them with his slight movement. She heard herself moan, and then his tongue slid into her mouth, exploring, tasting.

When she broke the kiss to breathe, she held on to him not wanting him to move. But he did. He kissed her throat. While his body pressed against her, his hand tugged at her tattered shirt, pulling several buttons free. Now her throat and neck were open to him all the way down to where her camisole rose with the swell of her breasts.

He leaned back for a moment. "I wish I could see you," he whispered. He touched the tiny bag tied to a string around her throat. "I wish I knew what treasure you keep in this."

Before she could think to answer, his mouth lowered to her again, this time hungry and demanding. Her mind circled from the flood of senses. She could feel the roughness of his cheek against hers, the desire in the depth of his kiss, the need in both their bodies to be closer.

His hands moved over her, branding her with his touch as he memorized the feel of her body. The kiss deepened suddenly with a hunger that rocked her senses, and to her surprise, she answered back in kind.

When he broke the kiss again, his hands circled her waist and lifted her quickly into the window. "Go," he said.

"And don't come to my room again unless you plan to spend some time in my bed."

She wanted to cry, to hold him back, to make him say something gentle and not sharp to her before he left.

But he was gone, vanishing into the night with one step. She stood at the window for a long while letting the night air blow against her open shirt. She didn't feel the cold. All she felt was a longing for a man she knew she had to see again.

Part of her was splitting in two. Her need to be free. Her need for him.

This time he'd been the one who ran, not her.

CHAPTER 23

Travis walked slowly back toward his rooms at the Baileys'. He needed time to cool down. He'd never felt such a need for a woman-no, not a woman-Rainey. If he'd stayed any longer, he would have made love to her right there in the alley.