Beverly Barton - The Outcast

Reece was different. He didn't know her, had no reason to give her his trust, to open up his thoughts and feelings to her. Most people had little or no control over her ability to sense things about them, a curse for her far more than a blessing. But Reece seemed to possess a shield that kept her out. Odd that the only man she had ever allowed in her bed was the one man who refused her admittance into his private thoughts and feelings.

Elizabeth dozed in the chair the rest of the night, waking at dawn when she heard Reece groaning. He had tossed the covers off and was thrashing wildly about on the bed. Jumping up from the chair, she placed her knees on the bed, lowered herself enough to grab his flying arms and found herself tossed flat on her back, lying beneath a naked Reece.

She stared at his face, next to hers on the pillow. His eyes were still closed. Where she had held his arms in her strong grip, trying to calm him, he now held her arms over her head, the weight of his body trapping her partially beneath him, her hip resting against his arousal.

His breathing slowed, his raging movements ceased and he lay quietly, his body unnaturally warm. Elizabeth tugged on her trapped arms. Reece tightened his hold momentarily, then when she tugged again, he released her, flopping one big, hairy arm across her stomach. Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath.

How had this happened? She was alone in her bed with a naked man-a big, strong naked man. Reece. The stranger who had invaded her heart five months ago. The stranger who was an escaped convict.

Of all the men she'd known in her twenty-six years, none of them had made her feel the way Reece did. She wanted to console him, to soothe him, to whisper words of comfort. She also wanted to be held in his arms, to be kissed by his firm lips, to be covered with his hard body, to be...

Elizabeth squirmed, trying to free herself. Reece didn't budge, the weight of his body keeping her trapped. What was she going to do? She couldn't just lie there until he rolled over. Stay calm. Don't panic. Think. Once again Elizabeth concentrated on forming a mental link with Reece. Once again his mind denied her access.

Reece covered her breast with his hand. Elizabeth gasped, totally shocked by the intimacy of his action. Although she still wore her clothes, her jeans, sweater and jacket, she suddenly felt undressed. She seldom wore a bra, wasn't wearing one now, and the pressure of Reece's hand cupping her breast made her feel naked. When his finger and thumb pinched at her nipple, it responded with immediate erectness, jutting against her sweater, answering the call of Reece's command.

No man had ever touched her the way Reece was doing now. The few young men she had dated in college had seen her as a freak once they'd found out she possessed psychic abilities, some even ridiculing her as a fraud. Despite her desire to know the pleasures of love and marriage and motherhood, Elizabeth had accepted her self-imposed solitude here in her mountain retreat-here in her grandmother's home where she was safe from the outside world.

But the outside world had invaded her privacy, had indeed burst into her life in the form of one big, angry man... a man now fondling her intimately.

She covered his caressing hand with her slender fingers, gripping his hand, lifting it from her breast. Only partially conscious, Reece moaned and curled up against her, nuzzling her neck with his nose. Shivers of apprehension raced up her spine. Spirals of inner warmth spread through her body.

"Reece?" She had to get away from him, from the power of his touch, the strength of his masculinity. She tried again to move away from him. He pulled her closer.

"Reece, please let me go. I can't stay here with you like this."

She saw his eyelids flicker, open briefly and close. He ran one hand up and down her shoulder, then caressed her waist, her hip, the side of her leg. Tremors racked Elizabeth's body, heat curling inside her, moisture collecting in preparation. This had to stop! It had to stop now! She wasn't prepared for such intense emotions, for feelings beyond any she had ever experienced.

"Reece!"

He opened his eyes, smoky amber eyes, eyes that looked right at her without seeing. She gave him a gentle shove. He turned over onto his back, closing his eyes and groaning softly. Elizabeth eased away from him. Once on her feet she pulled the covers up over his body, but not before she'd taken a good look at the man who had created such wanton desire within her.

She guessed his height at well over six feet, probably two or three inches over. He was muscular but lean, his hands and feet large and well shaped. Curly, dark brown hair covered his arms and legs, a thick mat on his chest tapering down to a narrow line across his stomach and then spreading out to surround his manhood.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, mesmerized by his masculine body, by the perfection, the sculptured beauty. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, to caress the very maleness of him. Hastily she pulled the sheet, quilt and blanket over him, covering him up to his neck.

His breathing seemed even, his sleep natural. She thought it would be safe to leave him alone for a while, long enough to fix herself a bite of breakfast, take a quick shower and renew her strength through a few moments of meditation. She'd have MacDatho stand guard. He would be able to sense any change in Reece and alert her.

Elizabeth leaned over, placing her hand on Reece's forehead. He was warm, perhaps a little too warm, even feverish.

She'd just have to rush through breakfast and a bath. Reece didn't need to be left alone for too long. Cradling his rough, lean cheek in her hand, Elizabeth gazed down at the sleeping man. Tiny, almost indiscernible flutters spread through her stomach. So this was what sexual attraction felt like. When she'd been a teenager she'd been so sure she was in love with Sam. He'd known better. Now she did, too. Sam had been comforting, reassuring, safe. Reece was none of those things, and yet...

She left him then, left him to rest, left him in order to free herself from the magnetism he possessed, a magnetism that drew her to him as she had never been drawn to another man.

After a shower and change of clothes, she allowed herself five minutes of meditation before she devoured a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee. Then she bundled up to go outside and check on her greenhouses. During college when she had decided that she could never live in the outside world, she had sought a profession suitable to her personality and life-style and had chosen horticulture. She not only loved flowers and herbs, trees and shrubs, but she had a deep reverence for nature, a respect for all living things. She'd borrowed the money from Sam to install a small greenhouse behind the cabin. Her nursery business had grown by leaps and bounds, so that now she had two large greenhouses and a mail-order business that kept her knee-deep in work. Aunt Margaret and O'Grady helped out occasionally, and in the rush seasons of fall and spring planting, she often hired part-time help from Dover's Mill.

Returning from her outside trek, Elizabeth laid peppermint leaves and elder flowers on the counter. If Reece's fever rose any higher, she would prepare a tea made from equal amounts of the two ingredients. Drinking the tea would cause profuse sweating and hopefully break the fever.

Although early-morning light should have illuminated the house through the many windows, the dreary gray sky obscured the faraway sun, keeping the house in shadows, the only light coming from the fires burning in the fireplaces and the glow from the kerosene lamps. Even though the phones should be working soon, it could be days before electrical power was restored. Thank God the generator worked perfectly, protecting her greenhouses. She supposed she should have opted to hook the house up to a generator, too, but she simply couldn't justify the expense. Despite Sam's efforts to give her money, Elizabeth prided herself upon her financial independence. Her business would sink or swim on her merits as a businesswoman. She wasn't a child any longer; she wasn't Sam's responsibility.