strangeness of that response brought him up short. Talon Marshall? That was a curious way to address a man when you were getting ready to make love to him.
He raised his head, staring down at her.
She must have seen the question on his face.
“What?” she whispered.
“I think you know me well enough to call me Talon.”
“Talon,” she repeated.
He wasn’t sure why he asked his next question. “Where do you come from?”
The sudden fear that flashed in her eyes was like a punch in the gut. She broke away from him, exited the kitchen, and hurried down the hall. Unwilling to let her simply escape, he caught up and grabbed her arm.
Her gasp was another sucker punch. What was he doing? Forcing her into intimacy? No! He was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery.
“Don’t run away.”
She stood with her face averted.
“What are you afraid of?”
Her body jerked as though she’d been struck. “Everything.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, wondering if it was true.
She stretched out her arm, then let it fall back against her side. “You . . . we . . . were just . . .”
“Yeah. I got kind of carried away. I apologize.”
She swallowed. “It was as much my fault. I shouldn’t have let you . . .”
He wasn’t sure if that was true. He had overstepped the bounds, certainly broken one of his own rules about bringing a strange woman back to the lodge to have . . . He cut off the thought. He hadn’t brought her here to have sex. He had freed her from a fallen tree and rescued her from a storm.
“I’m . . . not myself,” she murmured.
He could say the same thing. Maybe the unlikely circumstances had overtaken them both. Instead of continuing the personal discussion, he changed the subject abruptly. “I was going to make you some hot chocolate. That’s why the kettle was on.”
“What is it?”
“Hot chocolate?”
She gave him that frightened look again, and he wondered why something so innocuous could set her off.
“A warm drink,” he answered. “Haven’t you had it before?”
“I . . . don’t think so.”
He tipped his head to the side and asked the question that had been circling in his mind, “What are you doing here?”
KENNA took a deep breath. So far, she’d made a mess out of this encounter. She didn’t even know about the name part. He’d called her “Kenna,” and she’d responded because that was the name she used, until Vandar’s adepts had added the “Thomas” part. So she hadn’t even thought about what she was saying when she’d called him Talon Marshall. It was right. But it was wrong, too. She hadn’t learned that in her endless lessons. If you kissed a man, you didn’t use both names.
She’d spent two weeks getting ready for this assignment, but a little thing like that had snared her. How many more mistakes was she going to make?
She glanced toward the wall and took a deep breath, letting it out before turning back to him. “I’m running away.”
“From where?”
She gestured vaguely with her arm. “Up in the hills.”
“Why?”
Her fingers curled and she fell back on a phrase she’d learned. “I’d rather not say.”
He gave her a long look, and she prepared to hear him tell her to leave. To her surprise, he answered, “Okay.”
Did that mean he accepted her explanation? Or was he only waiting to ask more questions?
He confused her again by turning and heading back to the kitchen. With no other choice, she followed.
The kettle thing that had scared her was sitting on the stove, mocking her.
“The water should still be hot enough,” he said as he opened a cabinet above the counter and brought down two mugs. A flat envelope with some writing on the side was lying on the counter.
She watched everything he was doing, trying to memorize the actions so she
He raised his head, staring down at her.
She must have seen the question on his face.
“What?” she whispered.
“I think you know me well enough to call me Talon.”
“Talon,” she repeated.
He wasn’t sure why he asked his next question. “Where do you come from?”
The sudden fear that flashed in her eyes was like a punch in the gut. She broke away from him, exited the kitchen, and hurried down the hall. Unwilling to let her simply escape, he caught up and grabbed her arm.
Her gasp was another sucker punch. What was he doing? Forcing her into intimacy? No! He was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery.
“Don’t run away.”
She stood with her face averted.
“What are you afraid of?”
Her body jerked as though she’d been struck. “Everything.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, wondering if it was true.
She stretched out her arm, then let it fall back against her side. “You . . . we . . . were just . . .”
“Yeah. I got kind of carried away. I apologize.”
She swallowed. “It was as much my fault. I shouldn’t have let you . . .”
He wasn’t sure if that was true. He had overstepped the bounds, certainly broken one of his own rules about bringing a strange woman back to the lodge to have . . . He cut off the thought. He hadn’t brought her here to have sex. He had freed her from a fallen tree and rescued her from a storm.
“I’m . . . not myself,” she murmured.
He could say the same thing. Maybe the unlikely circumstances had overtaken them both. Instead of continuing the personal discussion, he changed the subject abruptly. “I was going to make you some hot chocolate. That’s why the kettle was on.”
“What is it?”
“Hot chocolate?”
She gave him that frightened look again, and he wondered why something so innocuous could set her off.
“A warm drink,” he answered. “Haven’t you had it before?”
“I . . . don’t think so.”
He tipped his head to the side and asked the question that had been circling in his mind, “What are you doing here?”
KENNA took a deep breath. So far, she’d made a mess out of this encounter. She didn’t even know about the name part. He’d called her “Kenna,” and she’d responded because that was the name she used, until Vandar’s adepts had added the “Thomas” part. So she hadn’t even thought about what she was saying when she’d called him Talon Marshall. It was right. But it was wrong, too. She hadn’t learned that in her endless lessons. If you kissed a man, you didn’t use both names.
She’d spent two weeks getting ready for this assignment, but a little thing like that had snared her. How many more mistakes was she going to make?
She glanced toward the wall and took a deep breath, letting it out before turning back to him. “I’m running away.”
“From where?”
She gestured vaguely with her arm. “Up in the hills.”
“Why?”
Her fingers curled and she fell back on a phrase she’d learned. “I’d rather not say.”
He gave her a long look, and she prepared to hear him tell her to leave. To her surprise, he answered, “Okay.”
Did that mean he accepted her explanation? Or was he only waiting to ask more questions?
He confused her again by turning and heading back to the kitchen. With no other choice, she followed.
The kettle thing that had scared her was sitting on the stove, mocking her.
“The water should still be hot enough,” he said as he opened a cabinet above the counter and brought down two mugs. A flat envelope with some writing on the side was lying on the counter.
She watched everything he was doing, trying to memorize the actions so she
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