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Tess winced. She should call him back, find some excuse, however feeble, to keep him from going into the barn tonight. But he wouldn't listen. Wouldn't stop. She felt a sick tensing in her stomach.
He wasn't going to be amused by what she'd done. Not
tonight.
He disappeared into the barn. Tess waited.
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There were about two minutes of blessed silence, and then came a bloodcurdling yell. "Get in here, Lissa. Now!"
Tess thought briefly about running into the house, but knew it would be pointless. He'd find her. "Lissa!"
Tess clutched the grain sack to her midsection like a protective shield, tilted her chin, and headed for the barn. It was all part of the plan, she reminded herself, and the plan was for his own good. She had to get him off guard and keep him off guard. She had to make him react.
And what she'd done in the barn would certainly do that.
She sidled past the huge wooden door. Jack was standing with his back to her. He stood stiff as a fence post, staring at the enormous yellow flower she'd painted on his workbench. Beside him was a huge, beribboned barrel that held all of his farming tools. "What the hell did you do?" Tess jumped. He spun around. "Talk!"
Tess bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. All at once she realized the error in her plan. She didn't know this man, didn't know what he was capable of. The mouse had blithely baited the lion.... "Now!"
"I painted your workbench and rearranged your tools." "I see that." His voice was quiet. Too quiet. Another icicle of fear streamed down Tess's stiffened back. "What is it you painted, a daffodil?"
"Tulip," she said in a small, strangled voice. He grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her to him. She hit his chest hard and let out a tiny yelp of pain. He glared down at her, breathing hard. She looked up.
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Pale lantern light highlighted the hard, unforgiving angles of his face. "This is my place, goddamn it. Mine."
Tess was just about to say something?she had no idea what?when she saw it. Deep, deep in his eyes, beyond the fury and the disbelief, lay pain.
Her fear dissolved and was forgotten. Jack was hurting right now. Hurting so badly, he couldn't summon enough detachment to cover it up. His pain touched something deep in her soul, something small and frightened that had never been touched before. He needed her. And she needed him. Maybe together they could escape the fear and loneliness that shrouded both their souls.
She touched his face, laid her palm against the stubble-coated hollow of his cheek. At the touching of their flesh, she shivered. Her gaze turned warm and liquid and melted into his. "What's the matter?"
His hold on her shoulders tightened, bit deeply into her tender flesh. Tess's breathing quickened. With each inhalation, she felt her breasts brush the hard wall of his chest.
"Jack ..."
He flinched. Without the high color of anger in his cheeks, his skin looked ashen and old. Aching, desperate pain filled his eyes.
"Please," he said in a husky voice, "don't do this to me, Lissa. Please."
"What has she done to you?"
Jack let go of her as if he'd been scalded. "Leave me the hell alone."
He shoved past her and ran for the door.
She watched him. "I don't think I can do that, Jack."
He slowed. She thought for a second he was going to turn around. She leaned forward, waiting.
Then he regained his footing and disappeared into the darkness beyond the barn.
He never looked back.
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