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"You used me," she said, and shuddered. Suddenly, her nakedness was too much for her. She scrambled off the side of the bed and reached for her robe. The thin silk offered no protection against his gaze, but she pulled it on and knotted the belt tightly around her waist. Pushing her hair out of her face, she turned toward him. "How could you?"
His arms hung loosely at his sides. A cruel smile pulled at his straight mouth. She braced herself for the blow.
"Now you know how I've felt these past years," he said. "You used me, Megan. Back when you said you'd marry me, then a few weeks ago, when you came to my hotel. Even tonight. You came to my room knowing I wouldn't turn you away. Don't talk to me about taking advantage of someone. It's what you do best."
You said you loved me, that's why I came to you tonight.
She opened her mouth to speak the words aloud, then shook her head. There was no point. She moved around him toward the door. How had this happened? How had their wonderful night become something ugly and mean? She reached for the door and pulled it open.
"I'll be gone in the morning," he said.
Her eyes burned, but no tears fell. Gone? He was leaving her? She'd only just figured out how much she needed him and now he was leaving? Oh, please, God, it wasn't fair.
"Wh-what about Bonnie?" Her voice cracked.
"Can't you take care of her? I'll be back in less than a week. With any luck, I'll have found the murderer."
Her knees trembled with relief. He wasn't leaving her. He was going to nearby towns to investigate Laurie's death. Of course. How could she have forgotten?
"Bonnie will miss you," she said, fighting against the tightness in her throat. She felt cold, although the night temperature was pleasant. Her skin was clammy, as if a fever raged, but the cause wasn't illness, it was the pain of her broken heart.
"I—" She stopped for a moment, then shook her head again. There was nothing left to say. "Good luck, Justin." She pulled the door shut behind her.
The hallway was completely dark, but she was able to find her way to her room. Once there, she huddled in a chair by the window and stared into the night.
Words and images from their evening together flashed through her mind. She turned them around and around, wondering what she could have done differently, said instead to have made it better between them. She fought against the instinct to lash out in pain and forced herself to be calm. She had to know if Justin was right.
But it was hard to think that way, when all she wanted to do was curl up in a small ball and disappear. She wanted to leave town and never look back; she wanted to run so far she would forget about Justin and what he'd said. That she didn't love him, that she'd used him her entire life, that she enjoyed the power she had over him.
*'Never," she whispered into the darkness. "I'm not like that." But was she?
Megan searched her mind for the first moment she'd noticed Justin Kincaid as more than another boy around town. She'd been fifteen, caught between the worlds of children and young women, not sure what to do with herself. It had been at a dance, she remembered. He was popular with the young women. They liked his quick smile and easy good looks. She'd watched him circle the room, holding them in his arms, dancing and laughing. Justin had laughed so much back then. She'd been envious of those young women. She'd escaped outside and it was there that he'd found her.
Megan swayed in her chair, remembering the music and the faint sounds of conversation from the old barn the hardest dance had been held in. She could smell the food and the men's cigars, the faint fragrance of cider on Justin's breath.
"You're Megan," he'd said as he'd appeared beside her in back of the barn.
She'd been too nervous to speak. She'd simply nodded ind stared at her shoes.
"Old man Bartlett doesn't like me much," he continued. 'I don't suppose he'd take kindly to me asking his prettiest ¦daughter to dance."
Megan could feel the flush of pleasure on her cheeks, as she had that night so long ago. Justin had taken her in his arms then and danced with her on the edge of the forest. They hadn't spoken, they hadn't had to. From that night on, he'd been there, waiting. When she'd managed to get in from her duties in the store, he'd been around to go for a walk. In the summer, they'd met down by the stream. Some nights, she couldn't get away and she'd thought about him waiting, but he'd always understood. They'd never discussed her father, or the town. They were never seen together by anyone. He knew her father would forbid them seeing each other, so Justin had made it easy for her. And she'd let him.
