d started down the mountain, while Tarik sat in stunned silence on the rock.
But as soon she rounded the bend, the rock opened again, and he saw Legend in all its muddy splendor. As though hypnotized, he moved to stand just outside the opening. All he had to do was step through, and he’d be in another time and place.
But as Tarik looked at the opening, he stepped back. He knew that his ancestors lived in that town, but if he went through, he might never be able to return to this day and time. And if he didn’t return, he’d lose Kady. He’d lose the woman he’d been waiting for all his life.
Turning, he began to run down the mountain toward her, but she was moving so quickly that she was nearly at the Hanging Tree before he caught up with her. She was so angry with him that she wouldn’t acknowledge his presence.
After several attempts to get her to listen to him, he grabbed her into his arms and held her tightly despite struggles.
“I am not Gregory,” he said into her face, “and I’m damned if I’m going to allow you to think that I am.”
“Let me go,” she said, struggling against him. “I don’t want you near me.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he said, still holding her. “What you’re saying is not what I see in your eyes. Kady, my love, look at me.”
“No,” she said, no longer struggling but keeping her arms close to her body and her hands balled into fists.
“I think you are beautiful,” he said, then kissed her cheek. “Really truly beautiful.” He kissed the other cheek. “I think you are the most luscious, desirable woman I have ever seen in my life.” He kissed her forehead. “And I would like nothing better in the world than to take you to bed and”—he kissed her nose—“and make love to you all day long.” He kissed her chin. “Just the sight of you inflames me to lust, and I would like to put my hands on—”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the very loud sound of a motorcycle coming from behind her. As Tarik’s arms tightened on Kady protectively, she tried to turn to see who was coming. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Uncle Hannibal riding a motorcycle.
“Damnation!” Tarik said under his breath, then looked at Kady. “I’m sorry for what is about to happen,” he said, and there was great sadness in his eyes.
“Sorry for—” she began, but he pushed her away and told her to go stand under the safety of the Hanging Tree.
Kady didn’t think of hesitating as she scurried to obey him. Once she was under the shelter of the tree, she turned and saw a huge motorcycle approaching with a rider dressed all in black leather, a helmet hiding the face.
As the big machine roared toward Tarik, Kady instinctively stepped closer to the tree, but Tarik, standing in the open, didn’t so much as move as the bike headed straight toward him.
“Watch out!” she shouted, and could barely hear herself over the machine, but Tarik raised his hand to tell her to stay where she was. There was a look of profound disgust on his face.
As Kady watched, the motorcycle turned in a sharp circle around Tarik, gravel flying, but he didn’t flinch. Finally, it halted in front of him in the midst of a whirlwind of dust, but Tarik, hands at his side, still didn’t move.
Kady, several feet away, was coughing up dust as she watched the rider slowly remove black leather gloves, and she saw the hands of a woman. The next minute the rider removed her helmet, and out cascaded a yard of red hair. With a swing of an impossibly long leg, she dismounted the motorcycle and stood in front of Tarik, so close her breasts were almost touching his chest.
Of course, she could be standing a foot away and that would still be the situation, Kady thought as she looked at the woman. She was six feet, if she was an inch, and she was statuesque, powerfully and strongly built. Eye level with Tarik, she put her hand behind his head and kissed him while he stood immobile, not touching her.
But he was not pulling away, Kady thought, her hands clenched at her sides. Not that it was any of her business, she reminded herself, and knew she should go back to the house. Or maybe to . . . Well, to anywhere but here. But in spite of her sensible thoughts, she stayed glued to the spot and stared at that woman kissing her husband.
In the next moment, Kady reminded herself that Mr. C. T. Jordan had no official relationship with her. They weren’t even friends.
“Darling, I knew you’d come for me,” the woman said in a throaty voice that Kady was sure would turn on any man who heard it. “I knew that as soon as I sent you that fax you’d come and rescue me.”
Tarik didn’t answer, but did take a step back from her grasp.
As though the woman had a second sense, she turned impossibly emerald green eyes to Kady. Contact lenses? Kady thought.
“And who is your little friend?” the woman asked.
When Tarik turned to look at Kady, he wore the look of a man who knew there was going to be trouble and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. “Ah, Wendell, this is Kady Long, and, Kady, this is my cousin, Wendell Jordan.”
Wendell looked Kady up and down. “Tarik, darling, she doesn’t look your type at all. Or are your standards slipping?” Possessively, she put her arm around Tarik’s shoulders. He wasn’t more than a couple of inches taller than she was.
The Kady of a few months ago would have been intimidated by someone like the magnificent Wendell Jordan, but after what Kady had been through, not much seemed to frighten her. “How do you do?” she asked, moving forward and smiling sweetly at the woman, then she gave an amused little chuckle. “I think my husband is a bit confused. I’m Kady Jordan, not Long, and we’re here on our honeymoon. For a wedding gift he gave me the town of Legend. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Kady was happy to see that this announcement startled the woman into silence, and when Kady reached Tarik, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him in a wifely way on the cheek. “After you finish catching up on old times with your cousin, do come along, dear, I want you to help me wash my hair. I know how much you love to brush it.”
With that, Kady turned and walked away.