Lover in the Rough Read Online Free Page B

down the back side of the dune. By the time Todd reached the spot where she had been, she was several dunes away, moving with an ease that he couldn’t hope to equal.
    Sound carried very far in the desert but meaning was quickly lost. She was just as glad. She didn’t need to know precisely what names Todd had called her.
    Though Reba was headed toward the spot where the stranger had been, she didn’t see him. She climbed several more dunes before she turned and looked back. All she saw was Todd struggling in the crimson sunset light, moving slowly away from her toward cars that looked no bigger than one-carat stones scattered along the narrow road.
    She waited until she saw Todd get into his car and drive away. It was almost cool now, the temperature descending with the sun. Slowly she turned in a full circle. Nothing moved but her shadow and the wind. There was no one in sight, nothing near her but softly folded dunes glowing in the rich evening light. All around her was silence and beauty.
    The western mountains were glittering mounds of black crystal suspended against a ruby sky. The eastern mountain peaks were a transparent, icy pink, fractured into spires and pinnacles that scintillated in the twilight. Every color had a gemlike clarity and radiance, as though she were suspended in the heart of an immense black opal with darkness all around a fiery center of life.
    She didn’t know when she began to cry. At first it was a gentle rain. Then it became a torrent that shook her mercilessly, bringing her to her knees. She tried to stop sobbing but could not. The nerve and discipline that had carried her through the month was dissolving away, leaving only icy loss and scalding grief. She sank to the sand and wept helplessly, holding onto herself like a child.
    Dimly she was aware of the stranger’s hands lifting her, strong arms folding around her, pulling her across his lap and rocking her slowly, his deep voice murmuring comfort against her hair. She tried to talk, to tell him about Jeremy, but all she could say through her tears was, “I I-loved him and now he’s d-dead.”
    “Pauvre petite,” he said gently, his voice a velvet warmth against her hair. Poor little one .
    The familiar French phrase stripped Reba of her last defenses. With a broken sound she put her arms around the stranger and gave herself over to grief. His fingers slid through her hair, easing out the carved ivory comb that held her hair coiled on top of her head. Her hair fell in heavy waves over her shoulders and his arms. Slowly he stroked her hair and her back, holding her against his hard strength, comforting her.
    After a long, long time her tears were spent and she could breathe without sobbing. He wrapped his jacket around her and gently bathed her face with water from the canteen. In the moonlight his eyes were molten silver, his expression dark and unreadable. Common sense whispered that she should be frightened; she was alone in the dunes with a rough stranger whose name she didn’t know. Yet as she looked up at him she felt only peace, his warmth seeping through her.
    With a small sigh Reba rested against his chest, too spent to hold herself erect. His arms tightened around her, silently supporting her. Strong fingers slowly rubbed up her back and neck, loosening muscles that had been knotted for weeks. She murmured and sighed, relaxing. Gradually, strength returned to her, as though she were drawing it from him.
    “Better?” he asked softly.
    She nodded, sending moonlight sliding through hair that looked more silver than gold.
    He stood, pulling her up with him, holding her until he was sure she could stand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
    “You don’t have to,” she said. “I can manage now.” But her voice was hoarse with crying and her face was as pale as moonlight. “Really, I can.”
    “I’m sure you could,” he said, “but you don’t have to.”
    He took her hand and led her toward the rising moon. As they