Part 26 (1/2)

She gathered the items in her beak and rose into the air, striking out for the tall pine tree where she had left Logan. It was farther than she thought, and she felt panic rise inside her when she thought she might not be able to find him again. Then she saw the tree and circled overhead.

When he heard her wings beating the air, he sat up and raised his head, scanning the sky. She landed lightly beside him and set her offerings on the ground.

She wanted to nuzzle her beak against his fur, but she only s.n.a.t.c.hed up a s.h.i.+rt and pair of very short pants, then flew low to the ground, landing behind a tangle of brambles where she could have some privacy.

Once she was alone she took a moment to catch her breath and prepare her mind. After silently offering a prayer to the Great Mother, she sent her thoughts into the pattern that she had been taught as a little girl.

Not the pattern of a bird. The pattern of her human self. And her body flowed into her woman's shape.

She flexed her arms and legs, stretched her muscles, then, conscious of her nudity, s.n.a.t.c.hed up the s.h.i.+rt and pulled it over her head. Once she'd also climbed into the pants that barely covered her b.u.t.t, she looked down at her body. The clothing was very skimpy. She could see her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the thin fabric of the s.h.i.+rt. And because the air was chilly and the wind was blowing, she could see her nipples standing up. Logan had seen her naked. Now she was covered up. But she knew from watching men and women that a little covering could draw a man's interest more than nudity.

When she returned, Logan had finished with his own ritual-the chant he said to change-and had pulled on another pair of the short pants. They were a little too tight and gave her a good view of his body through the fabric as he flexed his arms, pulling on the s.h.i.+rt. It fit him better.

They stood facing each other, and she knew he was looking at her the way she was looking at him, taking in physical details. She struggled not to fold her arms across her chest or to clench her fists at her sides. Months ago she had made the decision that getting close to any man near her age was dangerous.

Logan had made her want things she had denied herself, yet she still didn't know if she could trust him. Or trust herself.

He broke the silence by saying, ”Thank you for bringing the clothes-and for coming back.”

She hadn't known for sure whether he'd understood her fear. Now she gave a small nod, unable to move closer and unable to move away, either.

He was the one who took a slow step toward her. When she didn't back up, he dared another, then another. And when she stayed where she was, he closed the remaining distance between them and gathered her into his arms.

She was afraid. Yet his embrace felt right in some deep, fundamental way that she couldn't describe. Like when she'd been a little girl and Haig had hugged her to take away hurt or sadness.

Only this was different. Her closest relations.h.i.+p in all the world had been with Haig, but she knew that what she felt for Logan was more than that. For one thing it was s.e.xual.

As she considered that component, she acknowledged fear simmering below the surface of all the other emotions. But she had learned to deal with fear, and she could deal with it now. She had to, because she wanted to reach out to Logan in a way she had never reached for Haig. He was like a father to her. Logan was-She couldn't allow herself to finish the thought.

Instead, she sighed out his name as she buried her face against his shoulder.

”Rinna. Thank you for coming back,” he said again.

”I think I had to.”

He tipped her head up, so that he could meet her eyes. ”Don't hide from me.”

”I... I'm trying not to,” she said in a shaky voice. ”But maybe I'm not the woman you need,” she heard herself say, because honesty had become as important as anything else that existed between them.

”Don't lie to yourself or to me,” he said gruffly, then claimed her mouth. Before, his kiss had been gentle. This kiss was charged with power. It should have alarmed her, instead it was the most natural thing in the world for her to open her lips for him.

He made a gratified noise and angled his head, deepening the contact, and as his lips moved over hers, she was swamped by a raft of sensations. The feel of his hard muscles, The subtle scent of his body. And the exquisite mouth-to-mouth contact. Waves of heat seemed to come off of him, heat that should have seared her flesh and her mind. But it didn't burn. Well, not in a painful way. Instead, it made her own temperature rise in response.

His kiss was hungry and possessive, and she knew in that moment that she had been waiting for him all her life.

When he realized she wasn't going to pull away, some of the desperation went out of him. He nibbled at her mouth, gauging her response before increasing the pressure, taking her lower lip between his teeth, then easing up so that she was astonished to hear herself making a small sound of protest. Was she begging for more? It sounded that way to her own ears-and surely to his.

He drank her in for long seconds, then drew back, his eyes meeting hers.

He held her gaze for a charged moment, then dipped his head again, feasting from her mouth as his hands stroked up and down her back.