Is that all it had been to him? Love lessons? Not even that, she reminded herself. More like sex lessons. Detailed instructions on the pleasures available to the human female-a hands-on workshop given by a master at the art of seduction.

She shook her head. That wasn’t fair. Zach had never tried to seduce her. If anything, he’d gone out of his way to treat her like one of the guys. Not by a single breath had he given away the fact that he’d been interested in her. If he had been interested. Maybe he’d kept her around for that week because it was convenient. He could have a lover without having to work to get one.

“Stop it,” she told herself aloud. She would make herself crazy if she kept this up. She didn’t know all the facts. As she had no plans to ask Zach to explain his motivation and feelings seven years ago, she wasn’t likely to ever really know what he’d been thinking. Maybe he had just been using her.

But even as the thought formed, she pushed it away. That wasn’t the Zach she knew. And if the rumors at the agency were to be believed, he rarely got involved with women and never made it personal. She knew she was the only one he’d brought up to the cabin. Her presence that week hadn’t been about convenience. It couldn’t be. Convenient was an anonymous hotel in a big city, not a private cabin used as a retreat from the world.

He’d tried to hurt her because she’d hurt him. She’d probed a raw wound.

She picked up the bowls and plates and plunged them into the hot, soapy water. As she did, Zach’s bedroom door opened, and he limped out.

He’d given up his cane the second day. She didn’t turn around to look at him, but she could hear his unsteady steps. He might not be speaking to her, but he was eating everything she put in front of him. Usually he washed up the dishes while she went outside after they ate. While he wasn’t sleeping much at night, he more than made up for it during the day, so he was going to regain his strength fairly quickly. That was probably his plan.

It would be easier to strangle her with his bare hands if he was physically fit.

Her mouth pulled up in a smile that quickly faded when she heard the jingle of keys. She glanced up and saw Zach heading to the back door with the Bronco keys in his hand.

He wasn’t going anywhere. She knew that. Yet the fact that he wanted to try to leave cut her to her heart. She sucked in a deep breath and felt the pain clear down to her gut. Damn him for being so difficult, and damn herself for caring about him.

She looked out the window. Zach was still too thin. His jeans hung loose around his narrow hips. He walked slowly, but more confidently than he had the day before. His broad shoulders still stretched out the flannel shirt he wore. She’d always thought he was a beautiful man, if men could be called that. His darkness, the way he held himself aloof from the rest of the world, only added to his charm as far as she was concerned.

He slid onto the driver’s seat. After a few moments of silence, he popped the hood, then limped to the front of the vehicle. She knew the exact second he saw the battery was missing. He turned toward the house and glared at her through the window. She met his gaze without flinching.

“Did you hide the battery?” he asked when he entered the kitchen and slammed the keys down on the counter.

“Yes. The first day.”

“Where is it?”

Dark brown eyes deepened with anger. It was like teasing a tiger. Her momentary feeling of self-satisfaction could easily be followed by a quick slash of killer claws.

She grabbed the pot she’d used to cook oatmeal and dropped it into the sink. For a full minute, the only sound was the slosh of water as she scrubbed the pot clean.

“What do you want from me?” he asked at last.

“Surprisingly, nothing,” she said, staring at the bubbles and avoiding his gaze. After all, she lied. There were so many things she wanted from him, she couldn’t begin to list them all. But this wasn’t the time to discuss them. Neither of them was prepared to be honest.

“I take that back,” she continued. “I do want one thing. I want you to get well and I’m going to stay here and make sure that happens.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Call it something to fill my time until I figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“Domesticity doesn’t suit you.”

Another barb hit its mark. She accepted the sting but refused to flinch. “You’re welcome to take over the cooking anytime you want.”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.” He exhaled. “Dammit, Jamie, at least have the guts to look at me while we’re talking.”

She stiffened slightly, then carefully rinsed her hands and dried them on a towel. Only then did she turn toward him and raise her head.

The overhead light reflected off his shiny dark hair. He stood with his hands on his hips, his feet spread. Despite the fact that they were in a cabin in the middle of woods that had probably never seen conflict, he was a warrior. Brave, strong, sure.

Something deep inside her resonated with his presence. It had been so long. She should have gotten over him, or at least found an antidote to his lethal charm. She hadn’t. She was just as smitten as she’d been the first day of class. Damn him. Damn them both.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

“It’s a long walk to town.”

“Where’s the battery?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” she said. “I’m not going to let you run off and die somewhere.”

He swore. “What will it take to get rid of you?”

He was determined to make her pay, she thought sadly. “Get well, Zach,” she said. “When you can run to the bottom of the driveway and back up, I’ll know you’re a hundred percent and I’ll be gone. Not before.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to insist she tell him why she was really doing this. Surely he could guess the truth. But instead of saying anything, he moved toward the back door.

“You’ll never find it,” she called after him.

“I’m not going to look for the battery. I’m going to run to the highway and get you the hell out of my life.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Jamie returned to the sink and quickly finished the dishes. She figured Zach would make it maybe a quarter of a mile before collapsing. She wanted to go after him and make sure he was okay, but she didn’t. When the kitchen was clean, she put on her own running shoes and headed out.

The morning air was crisp. On the radio last night, they’d mentioned a late cold front could be moving in at the beginning of next week, but for now it was a perfect mountain spring day.

Overhead the sun rose in a brilliant blue sky. Every morning more and more trees exploded with leaves. Delicate flowers poked their heads out of the soggy ground. The air was heady enough to leave her giddy.

She started out slowly, walking for the first couple of minutes, then breaking into a slow jog, heading away from the driveway so she wouldn’t run into Zach. The sound of her steps and her breathing was her only accompaniment on her run. When she ran at home, she usually used a radio and headphones, but up here she savored the silence.

She’d been at the cabin over two weeks and she could see why Zach kept it. There was something cleansing and healing about the location. Maybe it was ancient sacred ground. Or a secret spot for lovers.

She quickly pushed away that last thought. Under present circumstances, being Zach’s lover was impossible. He wasn’t going to ask, and she wasn’t going to offer. Even if he did ask-

She broke into a run and headed up an incline between a row of trees. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he asked. She liked to think she would be strong and say no, but it was unlikely.

Her breathing deepened as she broke out into a sweat. Her heart picked up its rhythm. She could feel the energy filling her. Up here, among the trees and the clear sky, all things were possible. If she could feel one with nature, surely she could find a way to be one with herself. She could remember what it felt to be human, and to be a woman.

Easier said than done, she thought. Although she had all the working parts, she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She couldn’t imagine herself hosting teas for the Junior League. She didn’t even know what the Junior League was or why it existed in the first place. But there had to be some kind of middle ground between a cliched female existence and what she’d become.

Another half hour of running didn’t bring her closer to an answer. She turned around and headed back to the house, slowing to a jog. When she spotted a tree with a thick branch about a foot above her head, she stopped and jumped up to grab it.

When her grip was secure, she started doing pull-ups. She worked slowly, thoughtfully, exercising her muscles, keeping them strong.

Her body was still as she slowly raised and lowered herself, her feet together, her legs straight. “Not the most feminine exercise,” Jamie said as perspiration dampened her back and face. But she couldn’t imagine not being strong. Strength was a part of her now. Her strength made her feel safe.

“Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty.” She released the tree branch and jumped to the ground. Once there, she shook out her arms and continued walking toward the cabin.

Was she hiding behind her need to be strong? Did she use that part of herself to keep people away, emotionally, as well as physically?

She didn’t want to think about that. As she tried to ignore the thought, she reminded herself she’d quit the agency so she would have time to answer all those questions. She wasn’t here just to help Zach, but also to explore and discover. To find balance. She was going to have to stare down the scary questions and figure out the answers.

When she got back to the cabin, Zach wasn’t there. She wondered how far he’d gone and if he’d hurt himself. She checked the clock. If he wasn’t back in an hour, she was going after him.

Forty-eight minutes later, he came into view. He was covered in sweat and barely able to walk. She moved out to the porch and waited for him to approach. Although her nerves were stretched tight, she struck a casual pose and tried to act unconcerned.

When he reached the three stairs leading up to the house, he raised his head and looked her straight in the eye. “I made it to the road,” he said. “It’s time for you to go.”

She’d expected a lot of lines, but not that one. Without meaning to, she burst out laughing.

Zach surprised her by turning his lips up in a grudging smile. “I didn’t think you’d buy it.”

She was too stunned by the way the smile had affected her to bother responding to his words. The tingling started at her toes and worked its way up. Her breathing increased, as it had while she’d been running, but this time it wasn’t from physical exertion. Looked as though he still got to her. A dangerous concept.

He sank down on the steps. “I barely made it past the bend.” He pointed to the curve in the driveway. “Then I puked my guts out and just about collapsed. I had to rest all this time just to make it back.”

So he still needed her. The thought should have pleased her, but it didn’t. She knew the truth. He might not make it down to the highway today, or tomorrow, but he would keep trying. And one day he would make it. Then it would be time for her to go.

Zach stepped into the cabin. He preferred spending time outdoors, but an unexpected cold front had arrived and the snow had driven him inside.

He was restless. A good sign. It meant he was healing. He’d been running a little every day for nearly a week. His strength was returning, although it would be another six or eight weeks before he was back to a hundred percent.

As he walked into the kitchen, he saw Jamie had made a fresh pot of coffee. He glanced toward the bedrooms. Her door was closed. They both tried to sleep in the afternoon because neither of them slept at night. As she’d said, insomnia was a hazard of the job.

He poured himself some coffee, then headed for the bathroom. He needed a hot shower to get the chill out of his bones. Before he opened the door, he moved close to Jamie’s room. He imagined her sleeping there and hated himself for the pleasure the image brought. He didn’t want to be connected to her. He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything. The price was too high.

The only way to endure the horrors of the world was to let go of them. Early in his career, he’d wrestled with injustice and hatred. He’d seen the suffering and not known how to ease it. Gradually he’d learned not to feel any of it. Once he let the feelings disappear, he could do his job. After all these years, it was all he knew.