“I don’t know”—Talon rubs the stubble on his jawline—“but why else would Dale be so distraught over the man’s death?”

I have no answer to Talon’s question, but something must have happened between Dale and his birth father. Why else would Dale take off the way he did?

“I should go,” I say. “Dale may still come home tonight.”

Talon nods. “Johnson already called. He wanted to camp for the night, but Dale insisted he was going to keep going.”

“Sounds like Dale.” Jade smiles.

“He’ll want to check on the vines,” I say absently. “He’ll be home tonight.”

Talon takes a sip of his after-dinner bourbon. “He may, but Ashley…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t expect too much out of him when he gets home. He’s safe, but the Syrah…”

“I know.” I swallow.

Losing even part of the Syrah will kill Dale.

I need to be there for him.

I jerk upward in Dale’s bed as Penny scrambles out of the room.

Someone’s here, but Penny’s not barking, so it must be—

I scurry out of bed and wrap a robe over my pajamas. I run out of the room. “Dale?”

He’s here.

Walking toward me. More like stalking toward me. His blond hair is a mass of tangles around his unshaven face.

His lips are parted.

And his eyes…

His eyes are green and…feral. Primal. Animalistic.

“Dale…” I say again.

“Get back in bed,” he says.

“But I—”

“I said get back in bed.” His voice is the familiar darkness of Syrah, but this time with a black velvet cloak covering it. He stalks closer to me, and with every inch he closes between us, I tremble.

From fear?

From arousal?

From…

From both, but also from something else. Something more.

“Dale, please. I’m so sorry.”

“Do I have to repeat myself, Ashley? I’ve told you twice now to get back in bed. If you don’t, I’m going to fuck you up against this wall.”

Shudders rack through me. Yes, I want to go back to bed. And yes, I want him to fuck me up against this wall.

Here. Now. Hard and fast.

He’s angry. He’s exhausted. He’s grimy with dirt, and he smells of the woods. Of the fire. Of all that is wild and primitive.

And I swear, I’ve never wanted him more.

He’s an animal, as if he transformed in some way through this experience. I should tell him to shower first. I should say no. I should hold him and comfort him and tell him I love him. That everything will be okay. That I understand the loss he’s bearing, and that I’m bearing it too.

But I don’t.

I stand, his for the taking.

“I warned you,” he growls, cloaking me in red-wine ruggedness.

He grips my shoulders and pushes me against the wall. Then he shoves the robe over my shoulders and to the floor. I stand before him in a white cotton tank and red-and-white checkered pajama bottoms. That’s all that separates my naked body from this madman.

He curls his fist around the neckline of my tank top. Again, a growl rumbles from him, and then he yanks the shirt so harshly that it tears. He adds his other hand and rips the fabric in two, exposing my breasts.

“Fuck. Those tits.” He squeezes both of them, almost to the point of causing me pain.

I don’t cry out.

I don’t cry out because he needs me. He needs me to let him do what he desires, and I want more than anything to be here for him. To do whatever small part I can to get him through this horror.

“Dale…”

“Don’t talk.”

“But I love you. I want you to know that. I’m so thankful you’re all right. That the fire—”

“Fuck the fire,” he grits out. “The fire has taken all it’s going to take from me. Now it’s my turn to do some taking.” He bends down and pulls one of my nipples between his lips, not gently.

Again, I don’t cry out. I’m determined. I’ll do what he needs, and if that includes taking me hard, taking me violently, I’ll let it happen.

He groans against my breast, sucking my nipple into a hard berry. I’m already wet, and though I want to squirm against the tickle in my pussy, I don’t. I remain still. Still and available for Dale’s use.

And he’ll use me. I already know what’s coming, and I want it as badly as he does.

Possibly more.

Rough sex turns me on, and from the moment I first saw him, I wondered what it would be like with Dale. I didn’t let myself think about it then, and even now, our relationship is precarious at best. He’s promised me only the next two months, so I’ll take what he’s willing to give.

If it’s dark… If it’s rough… I’ll take it.

I’ll revel in it.

And I’ll make sure he knows I’m the only woman in the world who can give him what he truly needs.

Chapter Nine

Dale

God, her tits. I suck her nipple. I’m going to make it pink. Red. Fucking raw. Without thinking, I close my teeth around it and bite.

She gasps softly. No scream, and damn, I bit hard.

Is she willing? Will she give me what I crave at this moment?

My vineyards, where my darkness dwells… They’ve been breached, and my darkness has nowhere to go.

Nowhere…except into Ashley. Ashley, the woman I love. The woman I crave. The woman I’m going to ravish, to ruin…

I pinch her other nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Rough, yes. Rough and dark, and that’s what I want. Ashley cries out this time, but not in pain. It’s a sound I recognize. The sound she makes when she’s turned on. I inhale deeply. Musk. Tang.

For so long, I’ve smelled nothing but burning wood and pine needles—the scent of destruction. I inhale again, and Ashley’s arousal penetrates through the rest.

She’s wet.

She’s ready.

And she’s mine.

I squeeze those ripe tits again, bite the nipple again.

“God, Dale,” she moans through gritted teeth. “God, that’s good.”