“No.” Leslie shook her head, relieved not to be talking about Dev or the past

anymore. “We both have our own condos. Our schedules are so crazy, we

don’t see each other that much anyhow, so there’s really no point in living

together.”

“Well, making a life together isn’t always about how much time you spend in the

same place.”

“We’re not that kind of couple.” Leslie frowned, realizing how that sounded,

even though it was true. “We both have our own lives, Mom. We respect each

other’s work. We enjoy each other. Things are Þ ne just the way they are.”

“I see,” Eileen said gently. “Well, it will be nice to meet her.”

“Thanks,” Leslie said, aware just how inadequate her summary of her

relationship with Rachel must have sounded. But she’d been truthful. What does

that say about my life?

v

“Soup’s on!” Natalie called.

Tucking a faded blue-checked ß annel shirt into her oldest pair of jeans, Dev

made her way slowly out of the bedroom to Þ nd Natalie, barefoot in a white

silk T-shirt and black slacks, spooning tomato soup into bowls. A Þ re crackled

in the Þ replace and a tray of cheese and French bread sat on the coffee table in

front of the sofa. A bottle of white wine completed the picture.

“That looks great, thanks,” Dev said, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She hadn’t been able to make it any farther than the sofa when she got home

that morning, and she’d still been asleep when Natalie arrived, announcing her

intentions to make dinner. Dev hadn’t wanted company, but Natalie had come

out in the pouring rain so she’d smiled and let her in. Now, showered and Þ

nally warm, she took in the

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WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

room and realized that Natalie might be interested in more than dinner.

Natalie’s silk T was just sheer enough to reveal a hint of dusky nipples on her

decidedly braless breasts. She wore her dark hair down, and Dev caught the

hint of an earthy perfume. Natalie looked and smelled like walking sex.

“How’s your leg?” Natalie carried the bowls to the coffee table, set one down in

front of Dev, and curled up next to her with the other bowl balanced in her lap.

“Not bad,” Dev said, sipping the soup. “This was nice of you.”

“You looked like hell this morning. If I hadn’t had to get the rest of our

marooned campers off the islands, I wouldn’t have left you here alone today.”

“I would have been pretty lousy company. I crashed the minute I walked in and

didn’t move until you knocked on the front door.”

Natalie shrugged, smiling softly. “I can think of worse things to do than watching

you sleep.”

Carefully, Dev set her bowl down. She liked Natalie a lot. Natalie was not only

smart and capable, she was sexy as all get out. A month ago, Dev had seriously

considered a night with her, maybe even a pleasant summer interlude. Now all

she could think about was Leslie.

All she’d been able to think about since the moment she’d seen her at the train

station had been Leslie. She could still smell her hair, still feel her body stretched

along hers, still feel her everywhere. She hurt so much inside she wanted to fall

on her knees and beg for everything to be different. Christ, what a fool.

“Why does it bother you that I want to go to bed with you?”

Natalie asked, putting her own bowl aside.

“That’s direct.” Dev grinned shakily. “I like that about you.”

Natalie stretched one leg out and curled her toes into Dev’s right calf. Then she

slowly ran her foot up and down Dev’s jean-clad leg.

“I’ve wanted to get you into bed since the Þ rst time I saw you standing in the

lake with water up to your waist. And unless I’m way off base, no one else is

warming your bed.”

Hitching her leg partway onto the couch, Dev turned sideways so she could

meet Natalie’s gaze. She caught her breath when Natalie slid her foot along the

top of her thigh and between her legs. When Natalie’s heel nudged the seam in

her jeans, Dev stiffened.

“Tell me that doesn’t feel good.” Natalie’s voice was throaty and low, her eyes

soft and sultry.

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RADCLY fFE

Dev wrapped her Þ ngers around Natalie’s ankle and moved her foot away an

inch. She was tired and weary at heart, but her body still screamed for release

after the hours of arousal the night before, and Natalie was very good at

seduction. “I’m not dead, Natalie. You’re a beautiful woman and you’re making

me more than a little bit crazy.”

Natalie drew her leg away, slid closer on the couch, and put her hand where her

foot had been—high on the inside of Dev’s thigh. She squeezed the tight muscle,

released, then squeezed again. Dev gasped.

“Let me make you feel good. I know what you need. Let me slide my Þ ngers

—”

“Natalie,” Dev said, her voice rough, her stomach tight. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Dev, for God’s sake, I can tell you want me. What is it you think I want that

you’re so worried about?” Natalie moved her hand from Dev’s thigh to her

cheek, stroking her face. “All I want is to share what we both want to share. I’m

not asking for anything else.”

“I know, I believe you.” Dev leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling, her

breath coming in painful spurts. It had taken so long to feel anything for any

other woman, and she didn’t often give in to physical attraction. Too many times

she’d been left feeling empty. She turned her head and met Natalie’s troubled,

questioning gaze. “I can’t make love to you because I…I…”

“Because you’re in love with Leslie Harris.”

Dev closed her eyes as the pain washed through her. Natalie leaned forward

and gently kissed her on the mouth. Natalie’s lips were soft, moist, warm. Her

full, Þ rm breasts pressed against Dev’s arm.

She smelled like rain, she smelled like life. And Dev hurt so much. She wanted

to keep her eyes closed and let Leslie open her shirt, unbutton her jeans, and

stroke her sorrows into pleasure. She wanted Leslie to…

Leslie. She wanted Leslie. She opened her eyes. “Yes. Because I love Leslie.”

“She’s not here, Dev,” Natalie said, her gentleness softening the sting in her

words. “I don’t know why she isn’t, but the reasons don’t really matter. What

matters is that you’re here alone, hurting, and I want to be with you. We’ll both

feel better, I promise.”

“I can’t,” Dev groaned. “I can’t make love with you if I’m thinking about her.

I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Natalie leaned back, her Þ ngers slowly stroking Dev’s arm. “Don’t worry. You

won’t be thinking about her when you’re with me.” She

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WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

smiled, a slow, lazy, conÞ dent smile. “I know it, and one of these days, you’re

going to know it too.” She leaned close again and nipped at Dev’s chin, then

kissed the spot she’d bitten. “And when you do, Dev, I’ll be waiting. And I

promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

Dev laughed, but her eyes were serious. “It doesn’t bother you?

Knowing the way I feel about Les?”

“Of course it bothers me,” Natalie said, her eyes blazing. “It bothers me a hell of

a lot that you’re so torn up. And it bothers me that I want you to distraction and

can’t have you. Yet.” She blew out a breath.

“But I can be patient. And I’ve got you for the whole summer.”

• 183 •

• 184 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

When Leslie walked into the lodge the next morning, Dev and Natalie were

having breakfast in the dining room. Natalie wore her park uniform, and Leslie

wondered if she had brought it with her the night before or had gone home

sometime in the evening. The rain had Þ nally stopped just before dawn, but it

wouldn’t have been an enjoyable walk back to the parking lot last night. Natalie

probably stayed with Dev. In the tiny cabin. With only one bed. Leslie gritted

her teeth, shook her head no when Dev gestured to the empty chair at their

table, and pushed through into the kitchen.

The cook they’d hired was cleaning up after breakfast, and Leslie could hear

her mother and father talking out on the screened-in porch.

She poured a cup of coffee and joined them.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Daddy. How are you feeling?”

“Like a turtle ß ipped over on its back in the middle of the Northway,” her

father grumped. His crutches were propped against the chair, where he sat with

his casted leg supported on an embroidered footstool that looked barely

capable of supporting the weight. “I can’t get down to the dock on these

crutches, especially not after all this rain.”

“Is there anything you need me to do?” Leslie asked, leaning her hip against the

end of the couch and sipping her coffee. “I’m going to bring the boat in this

morning.”

“That should be Þ ne,” her father said. “We’ll make arrangements for someone

to take guests out and back the rest of the summer.” He glanced at Eileen, then

at Leslie. “The doctors said eight weeks in this damn cast.”

• 185 •

RADCLY fFE

“Eight weeks, minimum,” her mother interjected. “You can’t rush these things,

Paul.”

“I was wondering, Les,” he said hesitantly, “if you might be able to come up

Labor Day weekend and give your mother a hand closing up.”

“I can handle it, Paul,” Eileen said, a hint of reproach in her voice.

“Leslie’s busy enough with her own work. I don’t want her to think she’s going

to need to work here every time she comes home.”

When Leslie thought of how much went into the end of the season closing, her Þ

rst reaction was to beg off, pleading too full a schedule.

The cabins and all the rooms would need to be inventoried and items marked

for replacement or repair, the boathouse would have to be winterized, and the

boat and equipment overhauled in preparation for dry-docking, just for starters.

Supervising the process, let alone doing it, was an enormous load. Still, it was

going to be a rough summer for her mother, and no matter how much extra help

she hired, there were some things that couldn’t be left to employees. She really

should come home to help. And Dev had said she’d be here all summer. That

fact made the decision easy.

“I’ll come. It’s no problem.” Leslie knew it was crazy to come back while Dev

was here, especially since she’d already decided to leave right after the Fourth

of July celebration just so she wouldn’t have to see Dev anymore. But she

couldn’t help herself. Whenever she thought of going back to Manhattan, back

to her life, she felt both relief and sorrow. She was comfortable—more than

comfortable, she was satisÞ ed with the life she’d made for herself. It would be

good to immerse herself in work again. Not to be constantly assaulted by conß

icting desires. Not to be faced with the guilt of wanting Dev so desperately. But

when she imagined actually leaving, of never seeing Dev again, she wanted to

cry. By Labor Day, she’d have control of her life again. She’d be able to see

Dev and put their relationship—their friendship—into perspective. Yes, it would

be much better that way.

“It’ll be fun.”

Eileen laughed. “Then you don’t remember what it’s like very well.”

“It’s funny, being home makes some things feel like yesterday.”

Leslie smiled and shook her head. “I’d better go see if Ranger Natalie is ready

to ferry me out to the island.”

“See you later, honey,” her father said.

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WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“I’m going to go into the ofÞ ce later this morning, Mom. I probably won’t be

home for dinner.” In fact, Leslie thought, she intended to spend as little time as

possible around the lodge until she was ready to leave.