Chapter 8

“So, for instance, if you don’t get these shots, it’s not going to kill you.”

Give it up already. She rolled her eyes at him as he trudged along beside her. She so didn’t want to be sparring with him at this moment. They were passing a spectacular gorge on the left side, one that fed into the area they were enroute to. She needed all of her psychic energy just to keep breathing and put one foot ahead of the other. Dizzying drops were so not her thing.

Hmm. Maybe a little argument was the answer. She allowed her upper lip to curl into a sneer. Yeah, kind of unpretty, but hell. She was dirty, grimy and not his lover anymore. Who the hell cared?

“Ever the harbinger of joy, I see. Something I remember well. And yeah. I want these shots. Make no mistake. They’re going to happen.”

“But not because of your parents, right? So if you really couldn’t…”

She whirled on him. “Okay, so what’s your deal on these shots? Why won’t you drop this?”

“You’re a good photographer in your own right, Abby. And don’t forget, it’s not about what you produce. You can’t measure your worth that way. You’re fine exactly as you are.”

A grimace spread through her face as she choked down a zinger of a response.

She copped a glance at his face—the hard planes soft and his eyes gentle as he looked at her. A queer feeling snaked through her.

He was managing her.

Just the way he’d done when they’d been together. Dare had always calmed her, speaking to her soothingly when she’d been upset, and especially right before he sensed a surge of emotion was about to burst onto the scene.

And sure, she’d had her share of emotional outbursts back then, but damn it, she’d moved on. She was different now, and she’d made something of herself, even though no one seemed to notice.

All of it converged. The memories of the past, the unexpected breakup, how she’d remade her life without him. The self-satisfied feeling she’d felt minutes ago pitched in her stomach and something that had always simmered deep inside started to boil.

A torrent of emotion rose in her, and damn. She couldn’t stop it, but did her best to stifle it, as much as possible. Sharing her deep feelings with him? Not on this planet. “What are you blathering about? Don’t you have someone else to psychoanalyze? A girlfriend? A wife?”

“Nope.”

Like that was a surprise. “Well, lay off doing it to me. I don’t need it.”

“And you?” he countered as he stalked into the green beside the narrowing path, his jeans rustling through the tall vegetation. “Who are you driving nuts these days? Some poor slob of a boyfriend, or some pitiful jerk you call a significant other?”

A snort. “I haven’t been brainless enough to go there lately. I’ve escaped unscathed, thank God.”

Did she mistake the second of relief that passed over his face? Probably.

But she still didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. “Not enough going on in your life these days?”

The insult didn’t seem to faze him. He panned a searching look over her, and with it, discomfort threaded through her. For all the world, it looked like one of those this is going to hurt but it’s for your own good looks, and she so didn’t want that. Not today. Not from him.

Not ever.

Especially not from someone she’d so stupidly shared all the secrets of her soul with, who’d turned around and betrayed her.

Her stomach clenched with the remembrance. She’d caught him. She hadn’t wailed, turned to him with tears in her eyes or let him see the pain splitting her apart. Nuh-uh. She hadn’t given him the satisfaction, once she knew her father was right, and that she’d just been a bloody convenience. No. She’d done it up well.

Ice Queen.

And yeah she’d relished the shattered look on his face later, even as she’d transformed any feelings she’d had about him to ice. She hadn’t even dignified the incident by letting him know she knew, that he’d hurt her.

Nope. She cut him off. Not the other way around.

Score.

“It’s just I know that in the past…” His tone hitched, then he seemed to marshal himself to continue. “…oh hell, Abby. You drove yourself to do stuff no one ever would. You worked crazy hours past any body’s endurance. You never stopped. It was always about them.”

She blinked, not knowing where he was going. “We haven’t been together for three years—what the hell do you care?”

But her tirade didn’t seem to put him off. In fact, she saw a glimmer of the old Dare in front of her somehow. And it confused the hell out of her. Completely flipped her stomach over.

His voice rumbled to her in a soft, intimate tone. “I still care about you, Abby.” His eyes locked with hers. “I still know you.”

And suddenly her resolve to be a rock and unemotional—split. Shattered. Was gone.

She’d thought she’d staved him off really well a few minutes ago, and put the lid on any potential for emotional scenes for the day. She’d thought that the stab of hurt she’d forced down was it for the day, the week, hopefully the whole freaking month.

Apparently not.

And the gentling look he was trying to soothe her with was really getting on her nerves even as her gut clenched with memories.

Of that look, aimed on her.

That fast, she was whirling with lost dreams, images of the two of them against the world in their own, safe cocoon. When he’d cared for her, and she thought he always would.

But he’d shredded that haven. He’d done the ripping, all by himself.

She stopped, pulled back as far as she could go and faced him down with the intensity that only raw truth and anger could provide. She hated that he got to her, but he did. And she’d put the lid on for long enough. “You can’t comment on my life, or my parents. You abandoned me when I needed you the most. You’re no better than they are!”

His jaw dropped and his expression went blank. “I what?”

“You know exactly what you did!”

His gaze steeled over and he repeated the phrase, ominously. “I what?”

Hands curled into tight fists at her side, she leaned into the fight. “When I went to New York for the internship, it was like I dropped off the face of the earth. We were going to live our whole lives together. Together, Dare. And then you dropped me. Nothing.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that.”

The expression on his face morphed. Even as she spoke, she noticed it. It wasn’t a flicker of rage. No. All-out flames burned deep in those darkened cobalt eyes.

Dangerous. His whole stance became deadly still.

The soldier, in alert pose.

“Who left whom?” he asked, his voice soft.

Trying to pin this on her, was he? No way. Even if she had to spell out everything he already knew. “You know what happened as well as I do. The internship came up, and I had to leave.”

Even as she dredged up the old scenario, her muscles tensed. She so didn’t want to be doing this. She’d never wanted to tell him how he’d shredded her into droplets so tiny they’d pass through a mesh screen. He’d obliterated her.

And the fact that she knew exactly what he’d been up to after she left—that was locked inside her forever. She’d made the grim promise to herself, on a blindingly sunny day in New York, when everyone else was going about their lives around her, cheerful and seemingly having a great old time.

She’d been fighting to keep from doubling over in the street, thinking of how she’d caught him, and she’d had to make some kind of pact with herself, god, to get through it. To make sure she came out whole on the other side. A person, intact.

No. Blame her, would he?

She looked him square in the face, her hands on the front of her hips. “You didn’t call. Nothing. I waited. I rented my tiny studio apartment and waited for you to call. Pretending it was all right. That it would be fine, and we’d be together in no time.”

Despite her resolve, a moan tore from her lips as she uncloaked the awful words. “Nothing. I thought we were forever, but you dumped me as though I’d never existed.”

“And when you said perhaps we should take some time away from each other? Like, a break? Clear our heads? What about that? Did you not think that would knock the guts out of me?”

“I…” For the life of her, that was a new thought. Sure, she’d bandied some crap about. They both had. But she hadn’t even remembered saying that. Had she? “We argued. We both said stupid stuff. But you don’t just drop years of relationship just because of a fight.” The loneliness she’d been through in New York, the shock, the slow reentrance back to life, all sprang up within her.

A low wail she couldn’t stop, pulsing with betrayal and anguish and the death of her most sacred illusions keened up from deep within her. “We promised to be forever and you didn’t even care.”

“Didn’t care?” Dare spun on her so fast, she stumbled back a step. “Didn’t care? I didn’t sleep for a week when I finally realized you’d chosen your opportunity over us.”

He raked his fingers through his hair, the dark nutmeg strands a jumbled mess. “You rammed the life right out of my body, Abby. I didn’t care anymore, and when it all caught up to me, I rammed my excavator into a concrete wall at work. Oh, for the hell of it. Yeah, the lack of sleep had me driving recklessly. And yes, it was my own damn fault. But I could have killed someone.”

His voice stretched taut, then dropped lower as he stared at her, hurt etched in his features. “I still don’t sleep through the night.” He clenched his eyes shut, drew in a deliberate breath. “I thought of you all the time. Every day. All day long. At night I’d wait to hear the key turn in the lock and your laughter in the house.”

She stood there, blinking as he opened his eyes and she felt his gaze wash over her. What?

“You’re surprised? That Abby Haines almost obliterated Dare Logan?” He laughed, a low, rueful sound. “The boy voted most likely to be completely sensible every day for the rest of his life. Yeah.” He snorted, but softly. “Funny how that turned out.”

He’d cared?

“Think I’m making this up? Is that what money does to people like you? Think you can just ignore what you don’t want to hear because you can surround yourself with a different reality?”

Hot tears streaked down her face as the hurt welled up in her, and the old fight resurfaced. “No, I don’t go around ignoring reality. I’ve had enough of it shoved in my face all my life, thank you very much, despite the money. No matter how much of it there is, there’s never enough to buy…”

An inadvertent choke swallowed the rest of her words, and she was glad. Damned if she would say the words and highlight the mess her life had become, though they were on the tip of her tongue.

What people really need.

She pressed her lips together firmly. Hell if she’d add to her shame by trotting out the fact she’d been dying for approval, for basic love, all her life. That part of her history they both knew. Unfortunately.

It had taken one chapter in a year one University of Toronto psych textbook for her to become aware that there was a cold, clinical term for the way her parents treated her. Whenever she followed a path they didn’t want, they withdrew. Withheld affection. She hadn’t needed to memorize the information for her final exam because she knew it already, in that place that’s bone-deep inside a human. Her soul had shrunk from the description when it jumped out at her from the glossy pages.

Then when the love of her life, the man she thought she’d be safe with forever, adopted the same, silent technique? She’d understood, oh yeah. It’d grown her up in a hurry as she sat alone in her New York cubbyhole, staring at her surroundings and wondering how she’d ended up there, without the one person she’d come to depend on the most. Silently exorcised from her life.

The warning bell that love meant pain might have been something a five-hundred-dollar-an-hour psychiatrist would have written on her vellum notepad in a case file on Abby Haines.

Simply a fact.

She wiped the dampness from her cheek and faced him.

But the look on his face surprised her. Stark. An unnamable agony in his eyes, as if a storm had ravaged him. His shoulders were slack, his eyes vacant. His gaze hit the ground before it rose slowly to meet hers. “I didn’t blame you. I understood what happened. You were never going to be held in the world we’d created together. Why would you settle? There was a bright new life ahead of you.” His voice drifted to her. He repeated the words like a well-worn mantra. “Why would you settle?”

Disbelief filtered through her. He really thought it’d been about exchanging him for a new life?

But that was outrageous. She’d always been open about her love for him. Hell, she’d launched herself into his arms often enough, bowling him over. He couldn’t mean…

But the sadness etched in his features didn’t lie. Confusion clouded her mind. “What?”

He stared at her with those sad, sad eyes and she shriveled inside, despite her efforts not to be affected.

Crap. It didn’t work. She’d never been able to handle the whipped puppy-dog look in his solemn eyes. In the past, she’d do whatever it took to get him back to normal, relaxed and happy, so the icy grasp around her heart would leave.

But the remembrance of what those months that turned into years had done to her gripped her and squeezed her hard. No, he couldn’t play that this way. No.

It hurt too much. She couldn’t, wouldn’t consider it. “You came up with that crap because I left? Sure, I was determined to go, no matter what you said. True enough. But after four bloody weeks of hoping you’d call me, or something, yeah, I admit it. I was angry. That’s why I came home to have it out with you. To let you know that…”

She couldn’t finish the words. Couldn’t say—I wanted you. Was dying without you. I—

Hell. Needed you.

But he stared as if he’d seen a ghost. “Came home? What are you talking about?”

She barely registered the words. “What do you think? I’d let you treat me like that? Drop me without a word?”

Dare blinked. “You didn’t come home. I had to fly to New York to try to see you, a month later, when my exams were done.” Disbelief scored into his features, he drew closer to her. “I thought…”

“That I’d gone to New York and just left you?” She scowled at him, the heaving in her stomach a riot she had to quell.

Shit. This was why she didn’t get into stuff that hurt her. There never was an answer. People always said you had to talk things out. Face them.

Fuck facing them. It never worked. Just made you feel like shit. No, worse than. She took defense in the only thing she knew.

She curved her fingers over the soft surface of her camera bag, resting on her hip. This, right here, was her world. Her camera bodies, her assortment of lens and filters, the gear she’d never be without.

Yeah, she owned this. Hers. She could always coax it into creating her own brand of unique magic, and people paid for what she created. That was what was reliable in her world. Not this shit with emotions. “I’m done. I’ve got work to do and obligations to fulfill for my sleaze of a boss.” Planting a foot back in the direction of the path, she swiveled her body away from him only to feel the grip of his fingers on her forearm stopping her.

“Abby.” The word was strangled, a mute plea choked out with force as he stared at her with the eyes of a man going under.

Her spirit rebelled. No. Everything was raw now. She didn’t want to deal with this.

She hadn’t wanted to deal with it ever.

But those eyes. His expression. The wounded puppy look again. Her stomach twisted as she realized she couldn’t walk away from that hurt.

“Abby.” Her name was like an entreaty garroted from his lips. Hell. She simply couldn’t turn her back on someone who was hurting.

Okay. She turned to him. “Fine. Tell me what you have to say. Then I’m gone.”

A wince darted through his expression. “I was too upset to call you at first. And after a couple of weeks of that, all I wanted was to talk to you. To see you. But it took another few weeks before I got your address and could come up.” He paused. “You know how that turned out.”

Yeah, she knew. And what was the point of all this? Here he’d betrayed her, and he was pointing fingers? Not enjoying that little scene when she’d fluffed him off at her office, was he?

She jerked her head with finality. “You really want to have this out, here and now?”

He hurriedly shook his head from side to side, held his palms up. “Hell, no. I’m still in shock you said you came back. If you did, why didn’t you come and see me?”

As if she was going to tell him the real reason. Her heart was number one on the protect list, not his. A version of the truth would have to do. “I had last minute things to deal with, stuff I had to take care of. Then I saw you around town with some bimbo. You seemed to be doing just fine without me. I didn’t bother.”

He winced. “Shit.”

She mustered up the energy to keep going, even though it cost her, but something in her demanded that she still make her point. How he’d underestimated her in a critical way. And was still doing so. “It was a long time ago, Dare. But do you want me to tell you how it was for me?”

He nodded.

“Yes, I wanted to follow my dream. But I still thought it would work out between us.” She took care her voice didn’t disintegrate into a wail by summoning her sensible side and forcing it center-stage. “But when I didn’t hear from you for weeks, I got the message. I understood you’d moved on, without me.”

Something passed through his face, his eyes. The lines of his body stiffened, and then it was gone.

Had she only imagined that?

When he spoke, he’d changed. The words were careful, but she read an overwhelming tenderness in his face. If she’d reached out and touched him, the lines would have been soft and pliant. “I’m not going to fight with you about any of this, Abby. You’re right. I’m sorry. A lot of water has gone under the bridge, but I wish things had gone differently.”

Her eyes misted at the reminder of the old Dare, the one she could always count on, reaching out to her. But she had to harden her gut, crush the feelings swirling in her belly. She saw things in those summer-blue eyes she didn’t want to see.

Dare rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders resigned. “Things were really mixed up in those days. The days were hell. A blur. I don’t even know half the things I did. Stupid things. Things that didn’t make sense.”

He directed his eyes far off into the distance. “But I never stopped thinking about you. In fact, there’s something you need to know.” Emotion seemed to choke further words, and he stared at her while trepidation eddied in her belly.

Was he going to come clean? Admit what he’d done?

And if he did, what the hell would she say?

Taking her limp hand in his, he smiled the smile he’d always reserved for her at their most tender moments. “It’s because of you I was finally able to start my business and make a go of it.”

Weird change of topic.

His gaze zeroed in on her and she felt again the force of his personality when he wanted something. And he very obviously wanted to communicate something to her, something vital. “You know how you always told me if I wanted to make something of myself, I had to get an edge on the competition? Be the best?”

One brow lifted and her lips curved slightly. How could she forget? It had been their biggest argument, one that never seemed to go away. “Oh, I remember.” She pulled her hand from his, poked a finger at his chest. “You insisting that if you spread yourself too thin, you’d never be good at anything. Whining about the debt you’d be in if you did what I said.” She mimicked his voice, didn’t care if it pissed him off. “It might work for rich people, but real people have bills to pay.” She allowed her gaze to rake over him. “That discussion?”

His gaze eased. The faint stirring of pride that came over his face made him even more attractive. Like a man who’d figured things out and made decisions, putting his every fiber, as well as raw sweat and brains into them—and they’d panned out great. “Yeah, that one. After I got my head out of my ass—and it took a while—I realized you were right. You were right, Abby. I signed up for more courses, clustered as many as I could so I could fast track. I got three trades sorted instead of one.” He seemed lost in the recollection, for a moment. “The guys…the unit, they all kicked my ass too. Said you were right.”

Shock rumbled through her. He’d told her to back off so many times, and he’d done it when she left? After all those arguments? “Are you kidding me?”

Something in his eyes turned liquid. “I was wrong. You were right. I had other motivation too.”

She swallowed, trained her gaze on him despite herself.

His words came clear and steady. “I decided that if I wanted you back one day, I had to do something big. So I did. I realized my girlfriend had things figured out, and I was just a big dope.” A brief smile flitted through his face. “Though that’s just between the two of us. It’s not something any macho man wants on his resume.”

And just like that, the warm reassurance of his smile, the banter and the sense of humor that had always disarmed her in the past forced its way in through a stupid, unwanted chink in her heart.

For a second, she remembered the old Dare. The one who’d been honest to a fault. The ‘Okay, boss!’ he’d often quip to her, that lit her up secretly. He’d been happy just to be doing something for her, even if he was only giving her his time. Putting her first.

God, she’d missed that. The simple phrase, so natural from him. The trust.

Yeah, the old Dare. The man who always truthful with her—even if the truth made him look bad at times.

And he usually thought it had.

It was why she’d cleaved to him, so many years ago, despite the bad boys her bffs had partied with and had encouraged her toward, as they laughed at the guy without any money she’d found herself unable to resist.

Dare. Sweet, special Dare, as she’d thought of him way back then, was the only man—no, make that the only person—who’d ever seen her—really seen her in her whole, long, invisible existence.

She’d felt that way about him all her life, in fact…until…

She steeled herself, resolve strengthening in her.

No. No way. She wasn’t going to get involved with this…dufus. If he hadn’t meant to destroy her, then at the very least he’d been incredibly stupid, and it had almost ruined her life. Gutted her.

The reason it hadn’t was on her. Her strength. Her guts.

The sooner she moved on, the better.

She squinted in the direction they had to go, silently.

But he still didn’t move.

A couple of tears escaped. Damn him. They welled around the rims of her eyes and she hated them as they grew. Damn waterworks. She forced her lips together, determined not to go soft. No matter what.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” He shifted so that he was right in front of her now, blocking her path as she angled her gaze onward, refusing to meet his eyes. His stare licked over her. “Is this the look of a man that’s forgotten you?”

His naked chest was now close enough that she could reach up and place her palm against his sun-heated skin and splay her fingers against his warmth. She could feel the hard muscle underneath with her fingertips if she wanted. The scent of him, like wood and tangy things, drifted deep into her nostrils. The scent she’d never forget.

Then there was no space between them. He tipped her chin up with his finger and lowered his gaze to her. His expression was grim, focused on her intently. Her soul immediately remembered and somehow, somewhere, on an elemental level, it let out a sigh.

Dare.

He lowered his mouth to hers, she let him, and the kiss was bitter. The painful consciousness raked at her, spreading an ache through her as his lips brushed hers.

What they could have had, but had lost instead. What was past recovery, despite the wistful scene they’d just played out.

Warm pressure mounted as his mouth smoothed against hers, and it brought her back into the present moment.

But it still reminded her, and the reminder hurt.

Damn, it hurt. If it wasn’t for his lips on hers, she’d sob. She didn’t think a kiss could hurt this much.

And then it unexpectedly morphed. Sweet. Tenderness rippled through her, and his groan sounded in her ears.

Time flew backwards and the clench around her heart loosened.

He pulled away, his breathing ragged. “I cared.” He raised a trembling hand to stroke one of the loose tendrils of her hair back, off her temple, not meeting her eyes. “I still do.”

She leaned her forehead against his chest, shaky herself after the burst of emotion on so many levels. Dare circled strong arms around her, pulling her close. She drew in a wobbly breath, then let it out slowly as her body slackened.

He’d been the only one, ever, to take care of her.

The world steadied, even if only a fraction, and she was content to let it support her while she accepted the lull.

The slow, steady beat of his heart was comforting. Surrounding her in the cradle of his arms, he skimmed light circles in the middle of her back.

She was suddenly past caring at the show of weakness as she sniffled. “I thought…”

“I know what you thought now. I’m sorry.” His tone was gentle. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond. You didn’t call either, but that’s okay. I think I just figured that out.”

“No,” she drew in a breath. “You couldn’t have.”

He tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. “Too worried you were the one keeping the relationship going with all your fire, weren’t you?” He smoothed a reassuring palm over her wild mane.

She pulled away from the knowing look, back to the safe haven of his chest, without answering.

Yeah. That was it, at first, anyway. Shit. It had been her pattern. Overwhelming boyfriends with her intensity, then pulling back. Needing them to prove that they loved her, that she wasn’t the one making it all happen.

Though she hadn’t really thought she’d done that with Dare. Had she?

It didn’t matter. “I’m not sure.” She shook her head against his chest, her forehead wobbling against it.

“There were other things involved.” His chest tensed, then his muscles relaxed. “But they’ll keep. You have more important things to focus on at the moment. Right?”

She nodded wordlessly against his chest, savoring his heat and his touch as his thumb rubbed at her cheek. Like so many times before.

And she decided to ask the question that had been on her mind shortly after she’d seen him again. The one she hadn’t yet asked because she really needed the answer to be good news.

“Ralph?”

She sensed his easing, the gentle smile. “Fine. Still eats like a horse and bellows like a hellhound. Luke’s watching him right now for me.” He snorted softly. “Or maybe it’s the other way around.”

“Luke?”

“One of my crew.”

She exhaled. One good thing. Her princely hound was good.

“Still misses you. But hell, we can talk about that later.” He held her as she sniffled. “Don’t worry about stuff, Abs. Or the situation you’re in now.” His voice was gentle and it reminded her of other times she’d been upset and how he’d always taken care of her. She’d loved his concern, lapped it right up like the bereft person she’d been. But she’d also found she wanted him to see her as capable and strong.

“Seriously. Don’t worry.”

And now, that tone of his. That look…

Not again! She jerked away, stood on her own, grimacing. “Okay, I know that voice. That’s your shit-is-about-to-fly voice. Why are you managing me again?”

The tenderness in his expression twisted her stomach but he regarded her evenly. “Those pictures you have to take for McMaster—I checked and there was an online write-up on Devil’s Taunt a few weeks back. There was an environmental upheaval in the area recently when it was hit by tremors. Light, underwater quakes.”

She sucked in a breath and kept her mouth shut. She couldn’t trust herself to speak.

“There’s a safe path along Latai Mountain over there, one that butts against an adjoining escarpment. But the escarpment itself fell away. Everything’s changed.”

This sounded bad. “So the path—what. It’s not there anymore?”

His eyes stayed fixed on hers as he shook his head, watching her for every shade of reaction, as he always did when he thought she’d go off or be upset. “It’s there, but…”

“But what? Just tell me already!” The suspense was killing her. If he didn’t spit it out soon, she’d wrap both her hands around that gorgeously corded neck and strangle him.

He looked at her and his jaw stiffened. “You’re not going to like it.”