“Not that I know of.” Rooke opened her eyes. “Pops is really healthy. My parents died young.”

“I know your mother was only nineteen,” Adrian said gently. “You never mentioned your dad.”

“He was killed in the first Iraq war when I was six. He was twenty-five.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I only remember him a little. He was away a lot.” Rooke grimaced. “I guess you know I don’t have any information about my grandmother.”

“What about your other grandmother. Pops’s wife?”

“I never knew her. She had some kind of brain thing when my father was just a baby.” Rooke smiled wryly. “I think that’s why Pops is so good at raising kids. He’s had a lot of practice.”

“He’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He hasn’t had it easy, I guess.”

Adrian regarded Rooke steadily. “I didn’t see any sign of him complaining. In fact, it was pretty clear to me he’s crazy about you.”

Adrian took a breath and let it out. “You’re lucky.”

“Why do you sound sad?”

• 179 •

RADcLY fFe

“Do I?” Adrian forced a bright note into her voice. “I suppose I’m a little jealous. My parents don’t approve of a lot of my choices.”

“Why?” Rooke started to sit up and Adrian quickly grasped her arm, stopping her.

“You’re supposed to be quiet,” Adrian said sternly. “That means lie still.”

“What about your parents?”

“They’re disappointed I didn’t go into business and upset that I haven’t settled down the way they think I should.”

“Settle down,” Rooke repeated. “Like married?”

Adrian balanced the clipboard on her knee. “They’ve never spelled it out, but I’m pretty sure they’d like me to meet a rising business tycoon, preferably male, and move into a condo on the Upper East Side and have 2.7 kids. Writing is not a career as far as they’re concerned.”

“They don’t get that what you’re doing is really important?”

Rooke’s voice held a note of incredulity that blunted the edges of Adrian’s pain. Smiling with genuine amusement, she shook her head.

“They haven’t gotten that message yet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Adrian said, realizing that it really was. She’d made the choices her heart had dictated, and her path had brought her here.

She had no regrets. “I’m where I want to be.”

“I’m gla—”

“Hello!” A rotund, sandy-haired man in his forties bounced into the room, beaming as if he’d been invited to a party. “I’m Dr.

Ackerman. I understand you went a few rounds with a tree limb this afternoon.”

He removed the gauze pad, shined a light on the laceration, and made a series of indecipherable doctor sounds. Finally nodding, he stepped back and rolled a metal stand holding a wrapped instrument tray next to the stretcher. “Nice clean laceration. You’re probably going to have a black eye and a headache, but it doesn’t look too serious. You will need some stitches.”

“What about x-rays?” Adrian didn’t want to intrude, but every time she thought of Rooke lying so still in the snow her stomach got jittery and she had to fight back a wave of panic.

“Don’t see any real need for them,” he said cheerfully. “Simple blunt force trauma, and I can see that the bone isn’t fractured.” He

• 180 •

SecretS in the Stone

inserted the needle end of a syringe into a clear vial of liquid. “Any allergies or medication I need to know about?”

Adrian kept quiet, although it took effort. Safeguarding Rooke’s privacy was important, especially when Rooke’s personal business had been the object of scrutiny and discussion her entire life. Nevertheless, Adrian had to clamp her teeth together not to blurt out what she knew of Rooke’s medical history. She held her breath, waiting.

“Dilantin and phenobarbital,” Rooke said at last.

“Hmm,” the doctor said as he wiped antiseptic around the edges of the laceration and injected it. “What’s the origin of—”

Rooke’s cell phone rang and she yanked it off her belt. She held it out to Adrian as the doctor placed sterile towels around her head.

“Would you mind, Adrian? It’s probably Pops. Tell him it’s nothing.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Adrian grabbed the phone and flipped it open.

“Hello. This is Adrian Oakes.”

“Well this is a pleasant surprise, darling,” Melinda’s honey-warm voice announced. “How nice to have you both. Where is our gorgeous Rooke, then?”

Our Rooke? Icicles crystallized in Adrian’s veins, and she gripped the phone so hard she was surprised the case didn’t crack. “Rooke is busy right now. I’ll tell her—”

“Busy. Should I guess doing what?” Melinda’s laugh suggested she was contemplating a lascivious secret.

Adrian turned her back to the bed and lowered her voice. “She can tell you herself when she’s free.”

“Really, darling, there’s no need to be defensive. You know very well I’d like nothing better than to see you two together. Not exactly see, of course. I was thinking of something a little more intimate.”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Adrian said through gritted teeth. “But if there were, I can promise you, there wouldn’t be room for anyone else.”

“You might change your mind, especially if Rooke asked. Just think about it when you’re going to sleep tonight,” Melinda cajoled.

“Imagine being between us, Rooke’s hands and my mouth—”

Adrian slammed the phone shut, her face flushing hot. She did not want Melinda Singer to touch her. She didn’t. But her sex pulsed with want and she knew she was wet. Because of the idea of Rooke touching her. Rooke. Not Melinda.

• 181 •

RADcLY fFe

“Was that Pops?” Rooke’s muffled voice inquired.

“No,” Adrian said breathlessly, pushing damp tendrils of hair away from her face. She turned, glad that the doctor was in the way and Rooke couldn’t see her. “Melinda. I told her you’d call her back.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Adrian said, noting that Rooke didn’t seem at all surprised that Melinda had called. Melinda didn’t waste any time.

The doctor stripped off his gloves and dropped them on the instrument tray. “There. That should take care of it.” He picked up a chart and began to scribble on it. “Continue to take your regular medication. I don’t think this should cause any problems, but no alcohol and avoid operating heavy machinery for forty-eight hours. Can you have someone stay with you tonight?”

“Um…” Rooke hesitated. “My grandfather lives right next door.”

“I mean with you—otherwise I should keep you here.”

“You can stay with me, Rooke,” Adrian said quickly, picking up on Rooke’s discomfort. She knew she wouldn’t want to spend the night with her grandfather in her bedroom. “Or I’ll stay with you, if you’d rather go home.”

“Great, thanks,” Rooke said, although she looked unhappy.

“I’ll leave instructions for you at the desk,” the doctor said. “Be sure to check the list of warnings—call the emergency room if there’s any problem. You can get the Steri-strips wet, so it’s fine to shower.” He shook Rooke’s hand and hurried out.

“I’ll be fine, Adrian.” Rooke got to her feet and grabbed her jacket off the chair. “I don’t need you to stay with me, but thanks for volunteering.”

“I’m not in the habit of saying I’ll do something and then not doing it. Especially under these circumstances.” Adrian knew she sounded harsh, but she couldn’t get the sound of Melinda’s voice out of her head. Melinda had sounded far too certain of Rooke and what Rooke wanted.

“I don’t have room,” Rooke said grouchily.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Adrian glared at Rooke. “You do have one of those, don’t you?”

• 182 •

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ChapTER TwEnTy-OnE

The trip back to Stillwater in the front seat of Rooke’s truck was cramped and silent. Adrian rode squeezed between Dominic and Rooke. The entire side of her body, pressed tightly to Rooke’s, tingled. Rooke’s hand, covered with a faint latticework of scars resembling some ancient tribal tattoo, rested on her own thigh, only inches from Adrian’s, and Adrian had to summon every bit of her willpower not to grab it and pull it into her lap. The adrenaline spike of fear had abated, only to be replaced by an unrelenting compulsion to touch Rooke, to connect to her, to be assured she had not lost her.

Irrational, but so nearly uncontrollable she felt sick from holding in the tangled miasma of anxiety and longing.

“You sure about this?” Rooke asked quietly. “Dominic could take you home.”

“I’m sure,” Adrian said just as quietly. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her, but God, she needed some distance before she said or did something she would regret. She could barely comprehend that they’d just left the hospital and now all she could think about was being naked with Rooke on top of her, inside her. She didn’t understand, couldn’t accept, this kind of need. Wanting anything , anyone, this much scared her to death.

“Thanks,” Rooke murmured.

Dominic turned into the cemetery and parked Rooke’s truck in front of the garage. A black Ford F150 was parked farther up the drive.

Dominic’s truck, Adrian presumed.

“So I’ll get going,” Dominic said, opening the driver’s door and jumping down. “Really sorry, Rooke.”

• 183 •

RADcLY fFe

“Hey.” Rooke braced her arm on the seat and leaned across Adrian to speak to him. “Thanks for the ride, and stop worrying about what happened. It was an accident. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, right.” Dominic, looking unhappy, sketched a wave in the air and strode quickly to his truck.

“He’ll be okay in a few days,” Adrian said tightly, scarcely daring to breathe with Rooke half lying on top of her. Her body was so sensitive, her nerve endings so raw, she feared her skin was going to peel off and leave her screaming for relief. She had all she could do to keep from twisting her hips and pressing her center against Rooke’s lean, hard thigh. She’d never wanted to come so badly in her life.

“Yeah,” Rooke muttered, settling back in her seat and jamming her hands between her knees. “I hate all the fuss.”

Adrian laughed weakly. “I know. But he cares about you.” She dared a quick caress over the top of Rooke’s blue jean–clad thigh. “We all do.”

“I guess I’d feel the same way if it was him.” Rooke took in the pallor beneath Adrian’s fading desert tan and the wide, black pupils that nearly eclipsed her ocean blue irises. She looked—not frightened, but almost hurt. Rooke’s blood surged with the fierce need to protect her.

Instinctively, she cupped Adrian’s face, rubbing her thumb along the edge of Adrian’s jaw. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Rooke, I…” Adrian’s vision tunneled and the silver glow of moonlight enveloped her, soft fur beneath her naked skin, the heat of Rooke’s hard, hot body shielding her from the icy winter air. She arched beneath Rooke’s hands, her breath catching in her throat. Oh, how she needed her inside, driving out the cold.

“Adrian,” Rooke whispered, slipping into the dark depths of Adrian’s eyes. “You can tell me.”

“I can’t…” Adrian nearly sobbed. She couldn’t confess that all her barriers had fallen and she couldn’t tell fantasy from reality, that she didn’t recognize her body, she didn’t recognize herself. She couldn’t tell her she was afraid of losing herself in the vast wasteland of her desire.

Rooke drew her hand back. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

No, it isn’t, Adrian wanted to scream, but she was too busy forcing herself to breathe. Breathe and think and take control of her furious urges.

• 184 •

SecretS in the Stone

“I’m sorry,” Adrian gasped.

Rooke frowned. “Why? You haven’t—”

A sharp rap sounded on the window and Pops peered in. Adrian jerked away.

“We should get out,” Adrian said. “He must be worried.”

With a sigh, Rooke slid out and Adrian followed. She stood on the far side of Rooke, not wanting Pops to see her face. She wasn’t sure what showed there, but her legs shook so hard she sagged against the truck for support. She ached so badly she wanted to wrap her arms around her middle and double over. God, God. What was this? What was happening to her?

“Well? What’s the damage?” Pops said.

“Just a little cut,” Rooke said. “The doctor said it blended right into the old scar so in a little while you won’t even know there was a new cut.”

“Uh-huh.” Pops leaned around Rooke to glance at Adrian, his expression questioning.

Adrian worked up a smile. “Just a couple of days of taking it easy, and she should be fine. Hard head.”

Pops laughed and Rooke grinned, but Adrian noticed that Rooke was ashen and her eyes were shadowed. She’d been too busy caught up in her own maelstrom to remember that Rooke was hurt, and she flushed guiltily.