"Bacterium?" She tightened her arms around him nervously, and with a laugh, he lifted her from the water to the edge, a soft grassy bank, and placed her there, naked. The ground beneath her bare skin felt soft and alive, and she knew she was blushing.

Jamie hopped from the water and shook the clinging droplets from his body in one fluid movement. He reminded her of a deer - sleek, muscled and full of male vigor.

"You shouldn't be so shy Alex. You're utterly beautiful," he tossed over his shoulder while he walked to the horses.

Beautiful. She sat in a daze while he unpacked the saddle bags, spreading a checkered blanket on the ground for them to sit upon. He brought a second, smaller blanket and spread it over her shoulders, which had erupted in goosebumps.

"Cold?"

"A little," she admitted, taking his offered hand. She followed him to the picnic blanket, both scandalized and exhilarated by their nudity. Alex kneeled down uncertainly, pulling the blanket tight around her.

Jamie squinted at her, summing up her reaction. "Are you okay with this Alexandra? Really?" he questioned softly.

Alex hoped her nod and smile was more convincing than it felt. She was on a roller coaster, wilder and faster than any amusement ride she had ever ridden before, and she didn't know whether it would plunge into dark depths or soar skyward to the clouds. Truthfully, she was frightened of either direction.

"Let's eat." Jamie broke the sudden discomfort by digging into the saddle bags with relish. He unfolded sandwiches and deftly peeled an orange, popping several sections into his mouth. Juice squirted through the air and zinged her on the nose. When she squealed, he pulled her against him and fed her pieces until the juice dribbled from the corners of her own mouth.

Jamie bent over and kissed her, sharing the taste of citrus with a gentle flicking of his tongue. "Everything will be okay, Alex," he breathed into her mouth. "You can trust me." She closed her eyes and tried hard to believe.

The afternoon disappeared like the sun behind a cloud, one moment there- bright and shining - and in the next, enveloped by shadow. The house lay silent beneath the burgeoning dusk but for a final parting stroke of the day, a shimmering ray reflecting off of a bedroom window. Then it was gone, and a thick, musky evening was in full bloom.

Alex thought back to the hours they had spent at the pool, letting their clothes dry on the bank, swimming again, laughing, and talking. It had been a lovely afternoon, though she had carefully avoided any serious subjects in conversation, subjects like childhood or marriage or children.

Jamie had sensed her reluctance to speak of the past, and kept the conversation light and bantering. They had taken the long way home, winding up and over several ridges, until they encountered the realm of giant trees on the edge of Eden property.

It had lost none of its magic since the last time they had been there together. Pausing beneath a ninety foot hemlock, a fawn had skittered up from beneath a thicket of ferns, tottering on long and newly made legs too large for its slender body. Bold had merely blown through his nostrils, his characteristic spookiness long since forgotten.

In moments, a second fawn had appeared, then a third. They'd watched in awed silence while the fawns bleated, bringing several doe out from the cover of adjacent trees. The doe had watched them, eyes large and liquid, as the fawns romped and kicked their way to their mothers.

Jamie had whispered that the scent of the horses covered the human smell, and thus, they were curious, but not really afraid. The lead doe stepped forward, nostrils distended, blowing and stamping her frustration with small, sharp hooves. What were these strange creatures whose scent rang of the hunted and not the hunter? Finally, curiosity appeased or forgotten, they turned and melted quietly into the forest.

Alex remembered a similar experience of her youth, bareback on her pony, ripping through the fields at dusk, when they had kicked up several deer that had been resting in the tall grasses. Alarmed, but not terrified, the deer had run aside of the horse, bounding with easy grace, close enough to reach out and touch... and Alex had tried, sending the animal fleeing into the waning sunset. She remembered the exhilaration, the heart-pounding joy, and the resulting disappointment when the animal spirited away into the night.

She looked at Jamie. He would leave now, and she would go into the house alone. To reflect on what she had done, the mistakes she had made. She had let her heart and body rule when her mind knew better. There would be a price.

Jamie merely smiled at her solemn expression. "You look beat, Alex. Why don't you go take a hot shower and I'll put the horses away."

"They need feeding," she mumbled woodenly.

"No problem." He took the stallion's reins from her and headed for the barn. Alex stood there momentarily, staring after him, her mind spinning. The roller coaster ride again, fast and furious. Then she moved for the house, up the stairs, into the shower, and the hot water beat upon her face, washing the tears away before they could be felt and tasted.

She remained under the pelting stream for a very long time. When she emerged, she slipped on her robe and cinched it tightly at the waist, trying to force her mind into action. She needed to think, to rationalize, and to form the set of appropriate words that would set her life into proper motion again. On the right course, alone but safe. But her thoughts seemed to swirl uselessly in a shadowed, empty room. A cold room.

The small, hidden core of her, the hurt part, trembled now, crying out for release. Shame, she thought, shame on you, Alexandra. The girl not even a father could love. Or a husband. However could Jamie?

Numb, she mounted the stairs.

After minutes of searching, Jamie found a bottle of California red wine in the cupboard beneath the sink - of all places! - and proceeded to open it with the corkscrew on his pocket knife. He cocked his ear to the ceiling, and heard the shower was still running. He wondered wryly if Alexandra was trying to drown herself.

She obviously regretted the things that had happened at the waterfall. Something was wrong - her expression was dazed, the lights of hazel in her eyes had dimmed and swirled into something unfocused, fuzzy. And it wasn't the after effects of good sex.

Jamie was worried. He'd known there was a darker part to Alex for quite some time, and that her soul was bruised in some way, that she'd been injured deeply at some point in the past. By her husband? He couldn't be sure.

He remembered back to the night at the North Fork, months ago now, when she'd returned his stove in the dark and empty parking lot. He'd read pain on her face then, and she'd nearly cried at a soft touch and word from him, a stranger. And had then run away terrified, before it could provide her any real comfort.

Squatting in front of the fridge, he located some bagged salad, mushrooms and onions, and a hunk of meat that looked like it could be a steak. He pulled the items out and set them on the table.

"Help yourself, Jamie." The voice was sarcastic, reminiscent of the earlier Alexandra Aimee, and he stiffened unconsciously.

"Got any bread?" he questioned lightly.

She frowned dourly, but she only succeeded in looking petite and fragile in her oversized rose-hued robe, with her hair damp and curling around her shoulders. Finally, she pointed at the counter. "In the microwave."

He grinned at her. "Your robe should read, *Cute When Wet'." He pulled a half-eaten loaf of French bread from the mic.

"Don't you have to report home?"

"No, not really. I think I'll hang around here for a while, though it's getting a little chilly, don't you think?"

She only blinked. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you... hanging around here?"

He laughed. "Who else would make you supper?"

Alex felt nervous and agitated inside. She wished he had just gone home and let her digest the day's events alone. She did not know what to make of her churning thoughts.

Jamie handed her a glass of wine, and she gratefully took a sip without looking at him. She held the glass up and looked at it, the liquid seemed thick and dark crimson. Like blood. She felt wounded inside somehow, bleeding and panicked like an animal cornered, waiting for the final death blow that would inevitably come.

She looked up under her lashes at Jamie, who had shouldered off her moodiness and was moving about the kitchen like he knew what he was doing. The slab of steak hit the broiler with a sizzle, instantly filling the room with the aroma of roasting beef as he seared it expertly. He deftly sliced onions and mushrooms, then put them on the stovetop to saute in butter.

Her mouth watered and she took another sip of the wine. "Where did you learn to cook?"

He gave her an amazed look. "You mean you don't agree that my mother is the finest chef in all of northern Pennsylvania?"

Alex felt a grudging smile edge itself across her lips. "Of course I do. But with such finery prepared for you every day, why would one bother to learn?"

"Assimilation, my dear. Plus, it comes naturally...it's in my genes."

Alex couldn't help but to peruse the lean body encased by worn blue jeans, and agree. She knew what was in his *jeans', and the thought made her redden. A quick sip of wine turned into a gulp.

The food tasted wonderful. Alex couldn't appreciate it fully, though, with her heart still bleating in her chest. She wondered what her blood pressure would read at the moment, or if she was a potential target of a heart attack. The wine hadn't soothed her, she could only watch Jamie eat and wonder when he would leave, and what she should do when he was gone.

There were decisions to be made. She couldn't deal with the thought of more pain, fear, or regret.... why had she gotten herself into this situation? She had never been promiscuous in the past. She had always been able to control her hormones, to look at a man logically and objectively- That's not true Alex, the voice told her smugly. Did you ever look at Richard realistically? You told yourself he was an idol, a God, and you followed him blindly, even when he stripped you of any shred of self-worth you ever had- "Hey." Jamie had pushed his plate away and was looking at her curiously. Alex realized there were tears stinging at her eyes.

"I think you'd better go," she managed hoarsely.

"No way."

"I mean it, Jamie. I need to think."

He stood up and leaned over the table, fixing her with clear blue ears. Honest eyes. "I'm not leaving tonight."

She sputtered. "You self-assuming bastard."

He blinked, but remained unscathed. "I won't touch you, Alex. But I'm not leaving you alone. I'm not stupid; I can see quite clearly that you're in bad shape. If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, but I'm staying put."

She bit her lip to keep the sob in, but a tear rolled down her cheek, hot and accusing. Jamie moved around the table and reached beneath the arms of her robe, lifting her and hugging.

"You're not supposed to touch me," she said tremulously, leaning back into his warmth.

He kissed the top of her head, and the tears slipped by faster. "This is called a hug. It shouldn't be painful."

She began to cry with choking hiccups. Jamie turned her around and pressed her against him. His hands were on her back and in her hair, soft and soothing. "It's okay."

Alex pressed on his chest. "No. No, you shouldn't be getting involved with me, Jamie. It shouldn't have happened this afternoon. I'm a mess, can't you see that?"

"I can see you're a bit of a hot mess right now," he smiled, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb, "but this afternoon was perfect, and I would never, ever regret it, no matter what our outcome is. Now tell me what's frightening you."

She hid her face against him. She could feel his heat even through the thickness of her robe, and the steady beat of his heart. If she let him, this man could destroy her. Or save her. She took a long breath. "I'm afraid of you. Of me. My whole life- everything is so...tenuous."

"Alex. You've had some really hard knocks, so it's okay to hurt and cry, to be confused... but you're doing fine. Really. You are honestly made of strong stuff."

She looked up at him. The strong lines of his face were beautiful in the shadowy kitchen light, the firm chin, the long straight nose, the masculine mouth that could curve into a teasing grin or cover her own in warmth and snaking pleasure. Alex reached up with her hands to cup the back of his head and tug him down to her.

He resisted. "Alex. I just got through telling you that-"

"Jamie." She pressed against him fully.

"I said I wouldn't touch you." He set her firmly away. "You need to work this out." She felt for the chair behind her, and then sat as her rubbery legs gave way.

"And I need a cold shower." He grinned at her, lightening his words, then was gone. Alex listened to the tread of his feet on the stairs. She stared into her empty wineglass, feeling just as drained. But not empty. There was a peculiar warmth churning inside of her, a restlessness of something unresolved. She rose and headed for the security of her bed.

Waiting for Eden ~*~*~*~*~*~.

Chapter 17.

The shard of excruciating pain went directly through his left iris, piercing through to the optical nerve and causing ruthless spasms deep inside his head to ensue. The bright sun felt cruel and blinding as it slanted through the windshield.

Marcus swiftly pulled the BMW to the side of the road and slammed it in park as his breathing seemed to escalate with each heartbeat. And with each heartbeat, the pain shimmied in deeper, like a creeping, parasitic worm. He was hot all over, and he felt it spread across his cheeks, engulf his ears, and slither down his throat like a fetid fever.

The little, fucking bitch. He blinked rapidly and attempted to draw in deep, steadying breaths of cool, circulated interior air, but his body's response to the rage continued its unrelenting result. Alexandra Winters. If she had been in the car with him now, she would be one dead cunt. No mercy.

He had just called her house. Alex had rejected him a second time with some inane excuse, turning down his invitation to another evening of expensive dining, talk, and perhaps this time the thick stroke of his cock. She sounded nervous, edgy, and anxious to get him off the phone.

But to his amazement, Marcus had then heard another man's voice in the background. Marcus had thought that it sounded very much like that ridiculous hick of a local fire warden with the snotty as fuck attitude. Before he could recover, his Bluetooth was beeping insistently in his ear that he had another call a Brian Ridgeway.

The man was far less than pleased at Marcus's progress with Alexandra to date. It did not add to his credibility that he could hardly speak coherently in that particular moment, such was his rage.

Things were unraveling at Ridgeway Incorporated, and there was no jetting out of the country to a Monte Carlo playground when the shit hit the fan. Marcus had to produce results for the sake of the company, and swiftly, before the government got wind of the property. It was go time.

Why had he even attempted to woo her to his bed? Why had he let her get into his veins, warming up the ice within? He thought about her incessantly. Ridiculously. It had made him weak, when it was in his nature to invoke fear.

The muscles in his neck and shoulder were twitching rhythmically, insistently. Was he finally losing his control? Her rejection had sent him plummeting to a place he had not been in a very, long time. He clenched and unclenched his fingers in an attempt to sooth them, and it seemed to help a bit.

Marcus had come to terms with the darkness inside him many years ago. It was always there a a separate creature it seemed sometimes, but one that must be placated. He knew he had an "anger problem," as his shrink would say a so okay. So what? He liked to hurt and kill things, it soothed him. He didn't know why, it simply just was.

To turn his darkness completely loose at this juncture would be unthinkable, a total loss of control. And Marcus needed his control a a will of iron, in fact, to make it in this rancid and cut-throat world of his. And he needed control to deal with Alexandra Winters, or he would end up snuffing out her life before he got the things he needed from her to survive in his own dirty jungle.

Another jolt of pain shot annoyingly through his temporal lobe and he cursed out loud, and then swiftly connected back to his Bluetooth. "Dial Andrea," he hissed through clenched teeth. He needed to let off steam. Let the beast free for a bit before chaining him again. But when he had taken all he needed from Ms. Winters, she would endure every bit of darkness that beast had within its belly in return for her betrayal. Her eventual death would be a gift.

A little Jenny-wren had made her nest in a tiny alcove within the archway that served as the garden of "Eden's" entrance. The tiny bird flitted about the bushes and trellises, never seeming to mind Alex's presence one bit, and intermittently peppered the mid-morning air with her bubbly, trilling call. It brought back sudden memories of her childhood in West Virginia.

Every year, one particular stubborn pair of wrens would build their nest in the upper pole of her metal swing-set in the small section of the back yard that Alex's father actually bothered to mow. She would watch them build away, busily above her reach, and then carefully hatch the eggs and rear the chicks. But as the babies would grow and prosper, they inevitably grew too heavy for the shallow nest, which ultimately broke and set the unfortunate hatchlings tumbling to the bottom of the hollow swing-set pole before they could fledge.

Trapped from the aid of their parents inside the metal tube, their slow demise was inevitable. Before his departure, her father said the dead chicks were merely "nature's way of keeping numbers in line." How poignantly spoken, Alex thought wryly. Her father's own method was to simply drive away and never look back.

This particular wren's nest, however, seemed secure and well-built, and her chicks were hearty and plump with little beaks turned upward in anticipation of the next insect they would receive. It hurt Alex's heart to think of all the lost little babes in the world, those small creatures a or children a without protection. They sat at the mercy of fate, an icy bitch that had neither compassion nor soul.

However, Alex had survived her childhood, and she had survived the winding road her mind had taken last night. It seemed crazy now to think that she might not of, but the fear had been there, real and persistent as she had crawled into the warmth of that bed and closed her eyes. Everything had hinged on that night: her resolve, her strength, and her sanity.

It was astounding how fast the engulfing darkness of her bedroom had pulled her into slumber. She had dreamed, but the content was fuzzy and slow motion, thick and dark like southern molasses. But there was one thing she did remember a Marta had been in them. She was not afraid of Marta anymore, the gentle ghost who often visited in the night, but there was something more to the dream, something wicked, something evil.

Alex had woken with a start, staring upward at the clock that projected the time onto her ceiling: 3:10 A.M. Her heart was tripping along and her skin was clammy. She reached out beside her and felt a warm, hard chest that moved, and then mumbled at the touch.

Jamie was still there with her. The knowledge brought on such an intense feeling of relief and jubilation that she had gasped aloud.

He had rolled over and pulled her to him. "You okay, Alex?" he had breathed softly in her ear. She had turned and kissed him in response and felt the surprise in his lips. It was quickly replaced by desire as his kiss deepened and his hands moved down to climb beneath her nightshirt and across the warm skin under the cotton.

His fingers on her sex had deftly brought her to a slick, wet desire. Still kissing her, he pulled her panties aside and entered her smoothly, her moans muffled against the heat of his invading tongue. The pleasure was sweet, and even more intense than the fading dream had been.

A breeze lifted, and the hairs at the nape of her neck stirred. She shivered. Alex realized she had broken out in a thin sheen of sweat, for the mountain summer days were growing more intense by noon. She and Jamie would need to visit that beautiful hidden pool again very soon. So pleasurable... and of course the horses needed the exercise. The thought made her look toward the barn and pastures, biting her lip in consternation.