Betrayed: Days of the Rogue (52 page)

Well, it was too late now to change
her mind. She was here and might as well go through with her
plan…if that’s what you could call it. Pinning a brave smile on her
face to hide the nervousness she was feeling, she walked over to
Rafe.

“Hi!”

“Eve.” He looked wary, his body
stiffening as if preparing for some verbal or emotional blow.
“I’m…surprised to see you here.”

She shrugged, trying to appear
nonchalant. “I was in the area and I thought I’d stop by.”

“In the area?” He quirked an
eyebrow. “We’re several hundred miles from Calgary last time I
checked.”

“It’s an expression, as you’re well
aware.” Compressing her lips, she resisted the urge to snap at him.
She hadn’t come all this way for him to be difficult.

He waited a beat before nodding, a
resigned look on his face. “Since you’re here would you like to
come inside?”

It was a rather back-handed offer,
but she accepted though the bubble of hope that had grown in her
during her long flight from Calgary was rapidly deflating.

He unlocked the front door and then
stood aside to let her enter first. His face was expressionless. It
reminded her of when they’d first met. She’d thought him cold and
stone-faced, and she’d been a bundle of nerves stumbling over her
words whenever she’d tried to talk to him. Hopefully, she’d do
better today than she had then.

The house was tastefully but
sparsely decorated with glass and chrome and fine fabrics. There
were no real homey touches though. No newspaper left half-read on
the sofa, no afghan or comfy cushion for curling up and reading a
book. Was this how Rafe lived? It gave the impression of being cold
and uninviting. Rather like the owner was at the moment, Eve
thought as she tried to come up with a neutral comment. “This
looks…um…like a photo shoot from a magazine.”

Rafe was removing his suit coat but
paused and gave the room a careless glance. “I had it
professionally decorated. I don’t spend much time in the main
rooms.” He hung the jacket up on a coat tree and walked towards the
back of the house, gesturing for her to follow. “When I’m home I
spend most of my time in the den that’s off from the kitchen.

Upon entering the room, she
immediately felt herself relaxing. It was rather like a spinoff
from his place in Grassy Hills with a stone fireplace, wood
flooring and oversized leather chairs. Soft lighting spilled from
wall sconces and several paintings depicting the outdoors decorated
the walls. One, in fact, was hers! She recalled that it had been
purchased by an anonymous buyer at the gallery that was hosting her
show in a few weeks. The owner had been ecstatic at the pre-showing
sale, feeling it was an omen of great things to come.

Rafe noted the direction of her
gaze. “I needed something for that wall.” He shoved his hands in
his pockets and Eve had a feeling he was slightly embarrassed. It
buoyed her spirits. Perhaps this wasn’t a wasted trip after
all.

Sinking down into the comfortable
chair he’d indicated, she folded her hands in her lap and tried to
decide how to start the conversation.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? Wine?
A glass of water?”

“No, I’m fine.” She declined his
offer and then watched as he sat down in a recliner directly across
from her. Rather than leaning back, he propped his elbows on his
knees and, loosely clasping his hands, stared at her intently.

“You’re looking better.”

The comment struck Eve as humorous.
“Damien said the same thing to me just the other day.”

“Damien?” Rafe sat up straighter.
“He stopped by to see you?”

“He was warning me about the
Anti-Fae.” She frowned. “I was surprised you didn’t mention them to
me. Apparently, I could be in danger from them.”

“A lapse on my part. I hadn’t
realized the extent of the danger.” A troubled look passed over his
face. “I’ve been trying to think of how—”

She interrupted him before he could
finish. “He said you could be in danger, too.”

He shrugged. “I don’t really think
about it. I guess over the years, it’s something I’ve grown used
to. It’s you—”

“But that’s awful.” She stopped him
again. “No one should be
used
to the fact that there’s a
group of people out there that might want to kill you simply
because of some genetic quirk. Someone needs to do something about
this!”

“We’re trying. Reno and
Brandi—remember you met them at my place?”

Eve nodded, recalling how she’d
awoke at Rafe’s to find him gone and two strangers there in his
stead. They’d explained they were friends of his and that he’d been
called away because of a fire at his workplace. At the time she’d
assumed they’d come to deliver the news to him, but apparently
they’d been there for another reason.

“They, and quite a few others,
belong to a specialized kind of police force and they’re
continuously working on the problem.”

“So they were at your place
because…of Gordie?”

Rafe paused before answering.
“Grant was one of the reasons. It’s…” He rubbed his neck and
sighed. “It’s rather complicated to explain.”

“I guess I just want things fixed
but it’s not that easy, is it?”

He gave a rueful smile and shook
his head. “No. Unfortunately, not.”

“And how does Damien fit into all
of this?”

Rafe hesitated and when he spoke,
he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “He was part of the
same police force for a while. When his wife died, he decided to
look at the problem from a different angle. It’s not a method
that’s generally approved of.”

“Oh.” It was a rather cryptic
answer and she furrowed her brow wondering what he was hinting at.
“And he was at your place because…?”

“He was doing a job for
his…employers. It just happened to coordinate with something Reno
was asking me to do.”

Eve sensed there was a lot that he
was leaving out but decided to abandon the topic. It wasn’t really
why she’d come here anyways. What she needed to do was to swing the
conversation around to werewolves and why he hadn’t contacted her
since leaving Grassy Hills.

“You left awfully fast.” She tried
to keep any accusation out of her voice. “I was surprised to find
you gone when I got up the next day.”

Rafe stood and walked to the
adjoining kitchen, answering her over his shoulder. “My clinic had
caught fire. I was needed here. Didn’t Brandi tell you?” He opened
the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

“No, I’m still fine.” Eve narrowed
her eyes at his obvious avoidance tactic. “Brandi told me about the
fire. How are things at your clinic now?”

He opened a bottle of what looked
like an imported beer. “They’ll be starting demolition soon. The
architect has a set of blueprints for me to look at.”

She nodded and silence lapsed
between them. Eve nibbled her lip. This was going to take forever.
There had to be a simpler way. Maybe she should just ask him.
Flicking a glance his way, she saw he was studying her over his
beer bottle. Their gazes met and they both glanced a way.

Rafe sighed and set his beer down
on the counter with a faint thud. “Eve, I…”

At the same time, she got to her
feet. “Rafe…”

They both looked at each other.

“You go first.” Eve inclined her
head towards him.

“I was just going to ask what
really brought you here. It wasn’t to ask about the Anti-Fae or
Damien or the clinic, was it?”

She fought the need to squirm under
his intense gaze. It would be so much easier if she could just drop
her mental wall and let him know how she really felt. But if he
didn’t reciprocate, it would be so awkward. Yet if one of them
didn’t make the first move...

“I…I was wondering if…” She paused
and wet her lips while trying to get up the nerve to say what she
needed to say.

“Yes?”

“I…” She closed her eyes so she
couldn’t see his response, took a deep breath and then said it.
“Are you a werewolf?”

Silence met her question. She
opened one eye and looked at him warily. He was staring at her,
mouth ajar, eyebrows raised. Definitely
not
what he’d been
expecting to hear. Eve wished she could disappear; turn back time
and erase what she’d said. God, this was embarrassing. No doubt, he
thought she was crazy.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said
that.” Spinning around, she ran towards the front door.

Chapter 55

“Eve! Wait.” Faster than she’d have
thought possible, Rafe caught up with her. He grabbed her by the
shoulders and spun her around to face him. She tried to pull away
but it was quickly obvious he was much stronger than her. Trapped,
Eve kept her eyes fixed on his chest. She could feel her cheeks
getting hotter and hotter by the minute.

“Whatever put that idea into your
head?”

Shrugging, she kept her eyes firmly
fixed downward.

“Eve.” His voice deepened taking on
a commanding quality. “Answer me.”

She dared glance upward unable to
resist that tone of voice. His brows were lowered and the stare he
had fixed on her turned her blood to ice. The telltale muscle was
ticking away in his jaw. She looked away, and swallowed hard, faint
trembles of fear shaking her. “It…it was some crazy idea Caro had.
I…I should never have listened to her.” Once again, Eve tried to
escape, but Rafe was having none of that.

“Caro, you say?” Rafe was silent
and she dared to sneak a peek up at him. He appeared to be
thinking, his eyes fixed on some distant point. “It appears there’s
more to your Caro than meets the eye.”

He suddenly glanced down and caught
her looking at him. His eyes weren’t quite as cold and she relaxed
a bit, slowly exhaling.

“I guess she reads too many
paranormal books.” She shrugged one shoulder.

Rafe released his grip on her and
gave her a considering look. “But you believed her.”

“Well... Not really. At least, not
at first.” She twisted her fingers as she tried to explain. “I
mean, being Fae can sort of be understood, right? Scientists
haven’t completely mapped the human brain. Maybe what we call being
Fae is a normal function that most people don’t use.”

He inclined his head, not really
agreeing or disagreeing, so she continued.

“But then she mentioned…I don’t
know…a certain look that you had. And then for some strange reason
I’d doodled a picture of you with a wolf superimposed over top. She
made it seem significant.” Eve felt her cheeks heating again. “I
guess I was just looking for an excuse…”

“An excuse for what?”

Staring at the ground she mumbled
the end of the sentence. “To see you.” God, this was awful. When
she saw Caro she was going to—

“I missed you, too”

He spoke the words quietly, but she
snapped her head up, hardly able to believe what she’d just heard.
“You what? Missed me?”

“That’s what I said.” The corner of
his mouth slowly curved upward and she felt an answering smile
appearing on her lips.

“Really?”

He nodded while oh so slowly
reaching out to brush her hair from her cheek and tucking it behind
her ear. “I missed your smile and watching you concentrate on a
painting. I missed seeing the expressions flit across your face
when you get engrossed in a book you’re reading. The way you look
curled up on my sofa with your bare feet shoved between the
cushions to keep them warm.”

“I miss watching you exercise.” She
reached up and touched his jaw. “And I missed the way this muscle
flexes when you’re upset.”

“It does that?”

She nodded and laughed, placing her
hand on his chest. “And I missed that funny rumbly growling sound
you make sometimes.”

The smile that had been spreading
across his face started to fade and he cleared his throat. “Um,
about that…”

“Yes?”

He seemed about to speak and then
changed his mind. Instead, he pulled her closer and slowly kissed
her. It was soft and gentle, a tender I-love-you kind of kiss that
had her rising to her toes to maintain contact when he began to
pull away.

“Eve…” He exhaled her name and
cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek bone. “How do
you feel about me being an empath? I mean, after what Grant did to
you, are you afraid to open your mind to another?”

“No.” She turned her face into his
palm, pressing a kiss to it. “Not if that person is you. You’d
never hurt me. Gordie tried, but the pill I slipped him knocked him
out before he got past my mental wall.”

“Are you sure?” He looked at her
intently. “I’ve dreamed of forming a bridge with you again but I
wouldn’t want to upset you.”

“It wouldn’t. It won’t.” She stared
directly into his eyes, willing him to see the sincerity of her
words.

“Do you remember what I told
you—that every time Empaths form a bridge it becomes stronger?
That’s what will happen to us.” He took her hands in his and rubbed
his thumbs over her knuckles. “Traditional wisdom says that two
Empaths together isn’t a good mix. That they become lost in each
other to the exclusion of all else.”

Pulling her hands free, she placed
them on her hips. “And who, exactly, is sharing this ‘traditional
wisdom’? Do they really know what they’re talking about? Is it an
authoritative source? Or merely folklore?”

Rafe hesitated. “I’ve never
questioned it. It’s what I’ve always heard…”

Eve raised her brows. “Well, it
seems to me that someone as clever as a doctor shouldn’t be basing
decisions on hearsay. Perhaps that group that doesn’t like us—the
Anti-Fae—has been spreading this crazy rumour to keep us
apart.”

“Well…” He paused and then
conceded. “I’d never thought of it that way. It seems highly
unlikely, but—”

“Maybe because being Fae is all new
to me, it allows me to see things in a different light than you do.
To question things more.” She slid her arms around his waist and
clasped her hands in the small of his back. “Until I have
definitive proof otherwise, I’m not going to let the fact that
we’re both Empaths keep us apart. Besides, we’re only half
empathic, right?” Stretching on her tiptoes, she kissed him again.
“Rafe McRae, I came here because I miss you and I want to be with
you, hopefully for a long, long time.”