Page 31 of The Promise
She reached for his hand. "We've just got to think it through. The two times something did happen we were together."
"True."
Cara recognized the emotions she saw swirling in the blue depths of his eyes and she was fairly certain her own reflected his turmoil. She took a deep breath. "Okay, so we know there issome relationship between you and me and the tunnel. Is there anything else?"
"There has to be, but damned if I know what. Maybe it's just coincidence. Maybe those were the only times we were actually in the tunnel at the same time."
Cara shook her head, stroking the smooth silver of her pendant. "No, it has to be more than that because when you found me, I was outside the mine. Remember?"
"You're right." He frowned. "Maybe it's just proximity."
"Maybe." A thought occurred to her. "Or maybe it has to do with need."
He shot her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
She concentrated on putting her thoughts into words. "When you found me, I had just survived the car wreck that killed my parents. I was disoriented and lost in my grief. I had no coat and no idea I was in the middle of a blizzard. Without you, I wouldn't have survived on that mountain."
He cocked his head to one side, understanding spreading across his face. "And I would definitely have died if you hadn't found me in the tunnel."
"Got it in one." She smiled at him as if he were a prize pupil.
"So you're thinking that it's adversity that brings us together?"
She blew out a breath. "I don't know what I'm saying, really. I just know that when I needed you, you were there. And then, after all this time, despite the fact that I no longer—" She stopped, embarrassed at the direction her thoughts had taken her.
"After you no longer believed I existed."
She nodded miserably.
"Cara, it's all right. I'm not sure that I'd have reacted any differently given the circumstances."
She shot him a tremulous smile, grateful for his support. "Anyway, after all this time, the bottom line is when you needed me I was there. All I'm saying is that there's definitely a powerful connection between us."
"I can't say that I disagree with that." His slow smile made her bones dissolve like a spoonful of sugar in hot tea. She barely knew him, but his power over her hadn't lessened in the nine years since their first encounter.
If anything, it was stronger, pulling at her like a magnet. She wanted to crawl inside him, to find shelter in his steely strength. She wanted… well she couldn't put a polite name tothat. She felt the heat of a blush staining her cheeks.
"What about you?" he asked.
"What about me what?"
The smile broadened, telling her he had correctly determined the train of her thoughts. "Surely after all this time there's someone in your life. Nick?" He sobered, his face tightening at the thought of her recent guest.
"No, not Nick."
"Well there must be somebody."
"No. Nothing serious anyway. It costs too much to give your heart, Michael. That's a lesson I've learned very well. Promises are made to be broken. First with my parents, then with you…" She trailed off, embarrassed.
"I'm real, Cara." The fire in his eyes sent a shiver of desire coursing through her.
"I had no way of knowing that. And it just all hurt so badly. But gradually, in time, I began to heal, and I threw myself into my art. Painting was everything for me. Emotional involvement at a risk-free level." She shrugged, turning away from him. "Only there's no such thing."
"What happened?" Michael's voice was gentle.
"I got an offer to work in New York with a painter named Adrian DeBeck. Grandfather wanted me to stay in Colorado. Attend university. I was young and stupid and certain that I knew what was best for me. He just wanted me to be nearby. We quarreled." She paused, groping for words. Michael stroked her palm, the gesture at once soothing and stimulating.
She looked up to meet his eyes and was amazed at the compassion there. "I walked away without looking back. And a year later he was dead." She tried to stop the tears, but they seemed to have a will of their own. "He gave me everything and I walked away without even saying thank you. Three months after that, I found out that Adrian had been selling my paintings as his own. That he'd…that he'd been using me for months. So, in the end, Grandfather was right."
