Deadly Harvest by Heather Graham Page B

confidence. And then she was immediately afraid that she’d been out of the game for too long, and that she was reading too much into one night of sex, however wonderful, and if the secrets of his mind were something that weren’t meant to matter to her.
    But at least he wasn’t rude; he didn’t jump right up and start putting on his clothes, ready to leave.
    She was stunned when he said, “You scare the hell out of me.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œYou.”
    Because I’m…a fruitcake? she wondered.
    â€œWhy?” she whispered, looking away, suddenly afraid of what she might hear.
    â€œBecause you’re…you,” he said. When she turned to him, he was smiling a little ruefully, and she decided to leave it at that. “And I’m glad,” he added, pulling her closer. “I felt like a fool coming here, you know.”
    â€œIt’s all right. I panicked after I opened the door.”
    â€œYou panic really well,” he said.
    â€œThanks.”
    He let out a deep sigh. “When’s your flight?”
    â€œNoon. When is yours?”
    â€œEleven-thirty. I go through Chicago. You?”
    â€œCharlotte. When do you actually arrive?” she asked.
    â€œThree-thirty. And you?”
    â€œA quarter to four.”
    â€œWant a ride?”
    â€œYou don’t have to wait for me. I can get a cab from the airport.”
    â€œI’m sure you can. But wouldn’t you rather just ride with me?”
    Sex? Yes, she thought. A ride?
    â€œSure. If you don’t mind the wait. And you can…You don’t have to take me all the way home. I have to stop and see a…a friend when I get there.”
    What a lousy liar she was, she thought. Not that she was lying, exactly. She just wasn’t telling the whole truth. She knew she had stumbled over her words, and that her face was reddening. Maybe he wouldn’t notice in the dim light.
    â€œTo see your friend the detective, right?” he asked, and there was an edge to his tone.
    She was about to say that she could introduce them, but he spoke before she could. “That’s all right. I need to call Brad as soon as I get in, anyway.”
    â€œI would appreciate the ride, though,” she said, and she knew she sounded ridiculously prim, especially considering her current position.
    â€œFine. I’ll be glad of the company—and the directions.”
    He started to rise. To her own surprise, Rowenna held him back. “You don’t need to leave, you know,” she whispered.
    He looked down at her and smiled slowly, then shrugged. “Okay, I won’t.”
    He lay back down and found her lips.
    Making love was easy, she thought. So much easier than she had imagined.
    Far easier than hopping back on a bike, she added with a silent giggle.
    Later, with him still beside her, she drifted off to sleep. She was glad he was with her, and glad, though still just slightly embarrassed, that she had taken such direct steps to keep him there.
    When she started to see the cornfields again in her mind’s eye, she fought the vision.
    No, no, please. Not now, not tonight…. Please, just let me have tonight, let me have him ….
    It was almost as if her prayer had been answered.
    She wasn’t alone in the cornfield.
    Jeremy was with her.
    â€œShow me,” he said.
    â€œYou don’t want to see,” she told him, but she couldn’t stop the motion of the dream. They were running together. Running through the rows and rows of corn.
    She knew what was waiting ahead, could already see those malevolently empty eyes, and she tried to stop. But she couldn’t, could only look pleadingly into his eyes, gray, now with a touch of something darker.
    Gray, like the color of the sky, and with that hint of the darkness that would soon engulf the fields.
    She heard the first crow scream, and knew that it, too, was soaring toward them like a cruel shadow, black against the