Rating: NC: 17
Warning: This story contains scenes of graphic consensual sex between a man and
a woman. If you are under 18, this offends you, or is illegal where you live
please read something else.
Disclaimer: The character Rod Morgan is taken from the movie McLeod's Daughters.
No copyright infringement is intended.
Rachel Andrews leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. That was it. The last program that needed to be fixed for the new millennium. She felt no real joy at the thought, however, only a bone-deep weariness. She sometimes thought if she heard the word Y2K one more time she would start screaming! She looked around her tiny cubicle and realized just how close to burning out she truly was. She had to do something soon, or she was going to lose her mind completely.
She grabbed her purse and headed for home, but once there, she realized that she had nothing to do. Because of the hours she’d been working, her social life was practically nonexistent. She ate a lonely supper, wondering what in the hell she was going to do to give herself a break. She tried to watch television, but she just couldn’t seem to concentrate, so she decided to call her mom.
What a good thing she had! Her mother had come up with the most perfect idea. Since Rachel had four weeks of vacation accumulated, her mother suggested that she go visit her Aunt Amanda and Uncle Peter on their cattle ranch in Australia. Rachel realized that a holiday was just what she needed, so in no time flat, her plans were made and she was on a plane flying over the ocean.
Her aunt and uncle were waiting for her at the airport, and Rachel couldn’t help but smile when she saw them. They had both aged quite a bit, and now they reminded her of Santa and Mrs. Clause with their white hair and round jolly faces. They both brightened with joy when they saw her, and as they each hugged her in turn, she realized just how much she’d missed them.
The drive to the ranch seemed endless, but Rachel didn’t complain. The scenery around her was so different from anything she’d seen before. She hung out the window of the old Jeep like a child, oohing and aahing over everything. When they finally pulled up to the ranch house, Rachel was pleasantly surprised. The house was huge, three stories high, painted bright white with a wide porch going all the way around the ground floor. Her aunt led her upstairs to her bedroom on the top floor, and that single room was as big as her apartment back home. She had her own private bathroom as well. Her bed was a grand old spindle bed with an incredibly comfortable looking feather mattress covered by a multi-colored patchwork quilt. Rachel immediately fell in love with both her room and the house. In an odd way, she felt almost as if she’d come home.
She slept like a log that first night, the first real sleep she’d had in over six months. She woke the next morning to the wonderful smell of frying eggs and bacon. Throwing her diet to the winds, she went downstairs and ate an enormous breakfast, and then her real vacation began. Her aunt and uncle spent the next two days showing her the ranch and the town, and for the first time in a very long time, Rachel was finally able to relax.
On the third day of her visit, however, she met the only thorn in this perfect rose garden called Australia. After breakfast, she asked if she could go for a ride, so Uncle Peter had taken her outside to the stables. He explained that his overseer, Rod Morgan, had just returned from a buying trip, but he was certain the man would make sure she got a proper mount.
"There he is," her uncle said, pointing toward a large corral beside the stables. "We were lucky to get Rod for our overseer," he confided. "He’s as good as they get."
Peter took Rachel by the arm and led her over to the corral. Her heart sped up as she finally saw the man her uncle was speaking of. Rod was incredibly handsome and seemed about the same age as she was. Night black curls peeked out from underneath his cowboy hat, and it was obvious that he was very well built under the rather rustic clothes he wore. His face had an almost feminine beauty to it; she knew women who would pay to have a mouth like that. He looked up when her uncle hailed him, and Rachel saw that his eyes were almost as dark as his hair.
"Rod!" Uncle Peter called. "This is my favorite niece, Rachel. She’s come to visit for a few weeks, and today she wants to go for a ride."
"G’day," Rod greeted her, his tone wary for some odd reason. He eyed her up and down from her wavy shoulder length chestnut hair and expensive western shirt to her tight designer jeans and snakeskin boots. From the expression on his face, Rachel had the sneaking suspicion that he didn’t overmuch care for what he saw.
"You ride?" he asked, his voice betraying his doubts on that score.
"Of course she rides," Uncle Peter assured his overseer. "This little girl’s been riding since she was six. You’ve seen the pictures Amanda has up in the parlor."
Rachel fought to keep her embarrassment at bay. Her aunt and uncle had no children, so they doted on her as if she was their own. She’d won several riding competitions when she was younger, and her mother had been careful to send her aunt a picture of her and her trophy each year. Aunt Amanda had every single one of them prominently displayed in the parlor.
Rod still looked dubious, but Uncle Peter didn’t seem to notice. "Sally’ll be fine for her don’t you think?" He patted Rachel on the back. "You sure you don’t want me to go with you? It’s easy to get lost in the outback. Or maybe Rod . . . " he trailed off and looked hopefully at the overseer.
It was obvious to Rachel, however much it wasn’t to her uncle, that Rod had no intention of going ANYWHERE with her. "I’ve got to keep an eye on Falon," he said. "She’s close to foaling."
Peter nodded solemnly. "Oh, that’s right. I’d almost forgotten in
the excitement of having my Rachel come for a visit." He gave her a quick
hug and kissed her on top of her head. "I’ll come with you if you
want."
Rachel shook her head. "That’s okay, Uncle Peter. I won’t go far."
He studied her for a moment, considering, but at last, he nodded. "Okay. Stay within sight of the ranch, though. At least at first."
Rachel nodded her compliance, and her uncle bid her goodbye and headed back toward the house. She turned back to find Rod staring at her in a most irritating manner. "What?" she asked, immediately on the defensive.
His gaze tracked over her once again, and again it was as if he found something lacking. "Riding on the outback’s not like your fancy horse shows, you know," he said. "It’s dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing." His tone left no doubt of his opinion on that score.
Rachel stiffened at the implied insult. "Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing and I won’t go far. I’d like to see my horse now," she demanded in the regal tone of a master ordering a servant to do her bidding. She could see that it pissed Rod off royally. She could almost see the steam coming out of his ears, but without a word, he turned on his heels and stomped away. She almost had to run to keep up with him, and when he stopped suddenly, she almost ran into him. He pointed to a stall holding a beautiful cream-colored mare. "Saddle her yourself," he ordered, and then he stomped away, muttering, "Bloody American" under his breath.
"Fine," Rachel snapped after him. When he was out of earshot, she shook her head and said, "What an asshole." The horse snorted as if in agreement, and Rachel burst out laughing. She’d show him. She was perfectly capable of taking care of a horse. She saddled Sally and led her from the stall and out into the corral. She opened the gate and led her through, then carefully shut the gate behind her. She mounted, and without looking back, she took off across the open fields.
The countryside surrounding the ranch was lovely. She could see the cows that made her uncle’s ranch famous off in the distance as she rode along in the perfect stillness. She just couldn’t get over the quiet all around her. Even at midnight in her tiny apartment, she’d been able to hear traffic, sirens, and all sorts of noise. Here there was absolute peace. With a contented sigh, Rachel rode for more than an hour, and then she turned back in the direction of the ranch. When she returned, however, Rod was waiting for her, absolute fury on his face.
"Do you realize how long you’ve been gone?" he yelled the moment she was in earshot. "Your uncle told you to stay within sight of the ranch."
Rachel dismounted smoothly and led Sally back into the stables. "I knew where the ranch was," she said simply. "And I wasn’t gone THAT long. Just chill out."
He gaped at her a moment, obviously not understanding her meaning, but Rachel didn’t bother to elucidate. She put Sally back into her stall and removed the saddle. She brushed the horse down, and then she headed back toward the house.
She could feel Rod’s eyes on her back as she walked away, but she refused to turn. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. Nor was she going to let him ruin her perfect vacation. She didn’t care HOW good-looking he was, he was a jerk, and she’d just stay as far away from him as possible.
Rachel rode every single day after that. After a while, although Rod still complained about her taking out the horse, at least he did so now with a grudging respect.
Rachel had never met a man that was such a died-in-the-wool male chauvinist pig. He ordered everyone around save her Uncle and Aunt, and he seemed to think women were there to wait on him hand and foot.
A few days after her first ride, Uncle Peter and Aunt Amanda went into town for supplies. Rachel had begged off, but around one o’clock she got hungry, so she went to the kitchen to fix herself something to eat. Unfortunately, just as she pulled out the makings of a sandwich, who should come through the back door, but Rod Morgan.
He paused in the doorway, and she thought for a moment he might back out again, but then he came inside, pulling off his hat as he entered and releasing his dark curls. Today he wore a blue pullover, and it was just tight enough to cause Rachel to wonder what he might look like underneath. Suddenly nervous and more than irritated with herself, she turned back to her sandwich.
Rod pulled out a chair and sprawled out with his legs out before him. "You didn’t go to town?" he asked more amiably than usual.
Rachel shook her head. "Didn’t feel like it," she said simply. She cut some ham and cheese and put her sandwich together, cursing silently at her shaking hands.
"How ‘bout making me one, love," Rod requested.
Rachel stiffened at the tone of his voice. Without even looking, she knew there was a mocking smile on his face. She turned slowly and gazed down at him imperiously. "Last time I checked, I wasn’t your maid," she announced. "If you want a sandwich, make it yourself."
His smile faded away, and his brows drew together in irritation. He stood up and grabbed his hat. "Guess I know now why you’re not married," he observed, and then he slammed out of the kitchen.
Rachel watched him go, fighting the urge to throw something after him. God, he made her SO furious. She sat down and ate her sandwich, but for some reason, she barely tasted it. She cleaned up the kitchen, and then she went upstairs and threw herself on her bed, foregoing her ride for the day. She didn’t want to see Rod again, not now, not ever.
The days passed quickly. Her uncle joined her on her ride on occasion to show her the sights around the ranch, including an unusual outcropping of rock not far from the house that housed a huge cave. The walls inside were covered with aborigine drawings, and although there was a small pool of water in the far reaches of the dark cavern, it wasn’t too terribly dark and dank like Rachel would have expected. Nor were there any bats to be seen, thank goodness!
Before she quite knew it, two weeks had passed by. She grew to love this place more with each passing day, although she and Rod still didn’t get along. They said as little as possible to each other, but Rachel caught herself staring at him sometimes when he wasn’t looking, wishing things had been different. She really didn’t understand why he seemed to resent her so much, or why that fact bothered her so much.
On the first morning of her third week in Australia, Rachel headed for the stables prepared to ride the entire day. She was glad she’d opted for a sleeveless shirt. It was unusually hot that day. She whistled softly to herself as she walked, but when she reached the corral, she stopped dead in her tracks. Rod was in the middle of the circular enclosure leading a black stallion around, and because of the heat, he’d stripped off his shirt. Rachel stood there with her mouth open, unable to keep from staring. He had the most perfect body she’d ever seen in her entire life, his arms and chest strongly corded with muscles, his chest covered with just the right amount of dark fuzz.
Suddenly, she wanted him so badly it was almost painful, but when he looked up and caught her staring, the irritated expression on his face deflated her desire. Life just wasn’t fair sometimes. She finally met someone whose very presence sent sparks traveling through her body, and he couldn’t stand her.
Oh well, she tried to reason with herself. She was here to experience Australia, not its men. She saddled Sally and rode out, knowing that she ought to just forget about Rod and enjoy her freedom while she could. All too soon, she’d back to her life in the states and that same old boring grind. She shouldn’t be wasting her time wanting something she was never going to have.
Rachel rode her horse across the Australian outback, still amazed at how alien the stark landscape looked to her, but also how utterly beautiful it was. She brushed a stray curl out of her face, cursing herself lightly for not tying it back before she’d left. She immediately forgot her irritation when she caught sight of a kangaroo hopping nearby. Rachel grinned widely at the sight, and when a little joey poked its head from its mother’s pouch, she was startled into delighted laughter at the cute creatures.
The kangaroos headed off away from her at the sound, so she spurred her horse into a gallop, reveling in the wind in her hair and the fresh air in her lungs. She left the thoughts of her real life and Rod Morgan behind and gave herself over to simple enjoyment of the land around her. This place was certainly a little slice of heaven.
She stopped mid afternoon to eat the lunch she’d packed, taking her time and enjoying the peace and quiet, and then she remounted her horse and headed back toward the ranch. Uneasily, she realized that she had wandered much farther than usual today; she’d be lucky if she made it back to the ranch before nightfall. She urged Sally on faster. She didn’t want to have to listen to Rod bitch at her about being out with ‘his’ horse past dark.
Gradually, Rachel realized that she was having a hard time controlling her mount. Sally was tossing her head and snorting uneasily. Rachel picked up on that emotion, and suddenly she realized that she was smelling something very familiar. It smelled like the bonfires that abounded in the fall back home when everyone burned their leaves. Dear God, could that be a fire? Her uncle had warned her of the dangers of being out in the outback during a major brush fire. The flames ravaged the land, destroying everything in their path, moving so fast it was unbelievable.
Rachel stopped Sally and leaned over the mare’s neck. She spoke quietly to the frightened creature to try to calm her. She fought down her own panic, knowing the horse would be able to pick up on her fear. She had to get the creature settled so she could get back to the ranch as quickly as possible.
Suddenly, she heard the pounding of hoof beats in the distance. She strained her eyes in that direction, and her mouth fell open in shock when saw a horse and rider headed her way. It was Rod! With a sinking heart, she could see that he was absolutely furious.
"What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?" he shouted as he reined his horse to a halt beside hers. "There’s a damned brush fire raging out of control, and you’re out sightseeing?"
"It hadn’t started when I left this morning," she retorted angrily, even though deep inside she was more than happy to see him. She was scared out of her mind.
"Bloody American," he griped. "Come on. We’ll go the back way and see if we can cut around the fire."
She nodded, and they headed off west to cut around the path of the flames. Unfortunately, as they neared the ranch, the smell of burning grew stronger, and soon she could see the smoke from the raging fire.
Rod signaled for her to pull up. He ran his hand through his dark curls in agitation. "We can’t get through that way. It looks like we’re cut off."
Rachel’s heart dropped. "I’m sorry," she said. "How was I supposed to know?"
Rod glanced back at her, anger tightening his features. "You have no business going that far from the ranch. This isn’t America. There aren’t any of your fancy taxicabs nearby to rescue you when you get in trouble."
Rachel’s anger flared, and she glared right back at him. "I can take care of myself," she retorted. "And it’s not my fault the damned fire started, so get off my back."
"Oh, you were doing a great job of taking care of yourself," he said sarcastically. "You were headed straight for the worst part of the fire.
"I do have a brain. I would have gone around."
"Yeah, right," he muttered. He looked all around, his eyes darting here and there as he tried to find a safe haven. "We’ve got to find somewhere to wait this out."
"Couldn’t we just ride back that way?" she asked, thumbing over her shoulder back the way they’d come.
He shook his head. "That wouldn’t do us any good. Did you see how dry everything was back there? The fire’s out of control. It’ll burn everything out this way." He swore softly. "And I should be at the ranch fighting it, not out here baby-sitting you."
Rachel cringed at his words. Because of her, he was trapped out here instead of doing his job. She knew that she really wasn’t at fault, but that didn’t help assuage the guilt she felt.
Well, there wasn’t anything to do about it now except try to find a place of safety. She thought back over all the places she had seen in the past two weeks, and then suddenly she remembered the aborigine cave. "Hey, what about the cave?" she asked.
Rod stared at her for a moment, but at last, he nodded slowly. "That might do," he admitted grudgingly. "We should be safe in there. Let’s go check it out."
They rode off toward the cave, and luckily, the flames hadn’t reached the site yet. They dismounted and led their frightened horses inside. Thankfully, the main cavern was large enough to hold both them and the animals comfortably.
"I’ll take care of the horses," Rod announced. "You go sit down over there and stay out of my way."
"Fine," Rachel snapped. This was just great. She’d found them a safe place to wait out the fire, and he was still being an ass. Men. She would never understand them. Especially this particular man.
She found a nice size rock and sat down beside it, leaning back against it as she watched him tend to the horses. His back was to her, so she could gaze at him freely. He was wearing a pair of jeans that fight just right, loose enough for him to move comfortably, but tight enough to show his body to perfection. His burgundy button-down shirt hid his lovely muscles, but something about the way he had his sleeves rolled up to reveal his powerful forearms made her mouth suddenly go dry. For some reason, the sight of his silver watch glinting against the darkness of his tan was fascinating to her. She swallowed audibly, and then she realized that he had turned and caught her staring. She caught a glimpse of dark curls where his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and then she ducked her head, blushing profusely.
He walked over with a bundle of blankets and threw one at her feet. "Don’t suppose you brought any food," he said in a voice devoid of any real hope.
Rachel shook her head. "I ate it all for lunch."
He snorted. "Figures." He sat down across from her and stared out toward the entrance to the cave. "It’ll be dark soon. You might as well get some rest. You look tired."
Rachel stifled a yawn. She really WAS exhausted, probably a combination of her long ride and the stress of this situation. She laid out her blanket and stretched out on it, but try as she might, she couldn’t seem to drift off. Her eyes kept wanting to pop open, and at last, she gave up. She gazed at Rod thoughtfully, and then she finally gave voice to what had bothered her from the very first time they’d met.
"Rod, why do you dislike me so much?"
Dark eyes turned her way. "I don’t dislike you," he replied evenly
"You always seem pissed at me. I’ve never even heard you say my name. You just call me ‘Bloody American.’"
Confusion crossed his face. "Pissed?"
"You know, mad."
"Oh." He sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Not mad. You’re just not my cup of tea. I like my women a little more . . . " he trailed off as if searching for the right word.
"Subservient," she supplied sarcastically.
His expression darkened. "Look, I just think men have their place in this world and women have theirs, and the two shouldn’t cross."
"That is such bullshit!" Rachel propped herself up on her elbow, anger coursing through her. "Women are just as good as men."
"At some things," he conceded. "But at other things, they’re not. That’s just the way it is here, Rachel. If you don’t like it, go home."
"Don’t worry," she snapped. "I won’t be here that much longer." With that she turned her back to him and forced her eyes shut. What an irritating man he was. Who cared if he was devastatingly handsome? He was an ass.
Rachel fell asleep at last, but her dreams were troubled. In terrifyingly slow motion, she saw the fire creeping closer and closer to the ranch, finally engulfing it and all the people she loved. She could hear the screams of their pain. She could feel the heat, hear the crackling of the flames. In her dream, she cried out in horror.
She shot up to consciousness, her entire body shaking. Night had fallen, but the darkness was marred by an orange glow. Strong arms encircled her, but she fought to get away, away from the burning flames.
"Here now," a low voice said. "Settle down. You’re safe, love."
Rachel stopped fighting as memory seeped back in. "The fire?" she asked frantically.
"Oh yeah, you can hear it in here, but we’re safe."
Rod held her tightly, stroking her hair softly to calm her.
"You came for me," she whispered.
There was a small silence, and then he said in a low voice, "I was worried about you. I didn’t want you to get hurt."
Rachel began to relax in his arms, although for some strange reason her heart rate didn’t seem to slow much. She leaned her cheek against his chest, reveling in the feel of the strong muscles underneath the soft cotton of his shirt. What was this? His heart was beating just as fast as hers was. Tentatively she ran her hands over his chest. She heard his quick intake of breath, felt the way his arms tightened around her. Almost afraid of what she would she, she looked up at him.
His dark eyes were gazing down at her intently, and her heart began beating even faster at the desire so evident there. His hand rose and lightly brushed her cheek. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, almost reverently.
She stared at him, confused to no end. He thought she was beautiful?
He saw her confusion and smiled slightly. "Rachel, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve wanted you from the first day I saw you, but you scare the hell out of me. You’re just so obviously out of my league. I’ve never met a woman so sure of herself before. You don’t let anyone tell you what to do. You’re the most self sufficient woman I’ve ever met in my life, and I don’t know how to act around you."
"Then don’t act," she said softly. "Just be yourself."
He gazed at her thoughtfully as he considered her words, and then he bent his head and captured her lips, devouring them with a fierce hunger. She matched that hunger, at last giving into the desire for him that had been building up inside of her for the last two weeks. His tongue parted her lips, and her own rushed to entwine with his in a sensual dance. Rachel put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her as she entangled her fingers in his dark curls.
He laid her back on the ground, his mouth still covering hers, and his hands began to roam over her body. He unbuttoned her shirt, and then he cupped her breast, rubbing the nipple lightly through the satin bra she wore, causing it to harden in response. He snaked a hand under her to undo her bra, and then he slid his hand under the soft material to touch the warm flesh beneath. She gasped as his fingers finally found her nipple, and when he broke their kiss to wrap his lips around that sensitive peak, she couldn’t help but moan. His tongue circled her nipple, and then he began to suck gently as his hand wandered to her other breast, his touch leaving fire in its wake.
She murmured his name, and then she frantically began to unbutton his shirt, aching to see him unclothed. His chest was even more magnificent on close inspection, furred with just the right amount of soft dark hair. She ran her hands over it, marveling at the play of steel muscles under the warm skin, and then she stroked his nipples much as he was doing to hers. She was gratified to hear HIM moan at that.
His lips left her breast, and he hovered over her, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. "God, Rachel. I’ve never wanted anyone like this." His lips captured hers again, even harder than before, stealing her breath away.
"Please, Rod," she whispered when he began to kiss along the sensitive skin of her neck. "I need you." She began to fumble with the button of his jeans, her entire body aching to have him inside her.
He reached down to help her, unfastening his jeans and sliding both them and his briefs from his body. His manhood sprang into view, and Rachel licked her lips unconsciously in anticipation. He was larger than any man she’d ever been with before, and he was so hard that the veins stood out in stark relief. She had a fleeting moment of doubt, wondering if she could take him all, but then he slid her own jeans and panties from her body. His hand parted her legs and began to stroke her, and all her doubts fled as she gave herself over to sheer sensation.
His fingers entered her, probing her depths, and she shifted her hips to drive him in even deeper. He began to move them in and out in perfect rhythm, but as good as it felt, she wanted more. She didn’t want foreplay. She wanted him deep inside her.
With an animalistic growl, she pushed him to his back. She could see the shock on his face, but she didn’t particularly care. She stroked his shaft until she saw a tiny drop of moisture seep from the end, and then she moved above him, positioning his shaft at her opening, and slowly, carefully, she lowered herself onto him.
She was so wet that he slid inside her easily. She settled her body on his, watching his face closely. Whatever shock he may have felt at her taking control of their lovemaking had been replaced by pure lust. He groaned beneath her as she began to move, first up slowly, then back down, keeping an irregular rhythm. He was touching places inside of her that had never been touched and she reveled in the fullness, the lovely friction. Her movements became faster as she became more and more aroused, and he moved his hands to her hips to help her.
She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue playing over his full, sensuous lips. His arms encircled her, holding her tightly, his body now thrusting up into her. His hands found her breasts again, kneading them deliciously, and then one hand dipped between her legs to search for that tiny nub that caused her so much pleasure. When his questing fingers found the spot, her body reacted immediately. She groaned as her orgasm shot through her, its white heat beginning in her center, then erupting out until her entire body seemed alight with flames. Rod pounded up into her, his fingers rubbing her as she continued to climax, her pent up desire finally released in the rich waves of her orgasm.
As her body came down from the heights, he retook control, flipping her over onto her back. He thrust into her hard and fast, and soon she felt another orgasm building up inside her. She arched upward, matching him stroke for stroke as his thrusts became more frantic. Suddenly, he began to grind into her, rubbing against that nub once again, and the world seem to explode around her. She cried out his name as she climaxed, and with a hoarse cry of his own, his entire body shuddered as he spilt his seed deep inside her.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body still shaking, and she stroked his dark curls gently, a small smile of contentment curving her lips. That was definitely a record. She was already looking forward to the next time to see if he was always this good!
At last he pulled away and gazed down on her with the most intense expression on his face. He kissed her softly, and then he rolled over onto his side and pulled her close to him. "That was incredible," he said. "I’ve never felt anything like that before." He grinned suddenly. "Hell, I’ve never had a woman DO that before."
Rachel burst out laughing. "Oh, I have lots more to show you then."
Rod’s grin widened, but then he sobered. "I’m really sorry for the way I’ve been acting around you, Rachel. I wanted you, but you seemed so far out of reach. I didn’t know how to handle it."
She reached up and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "No worries, love," she said in her best Australian accent, startling him into laughter.
He hugged her close, and then he whispered, "I don’t want you to go back."
"Rod," she began, but he cut her off.
"Don’t say anything. Just think about it, okay?" He bent his head and kissed her deeply again, then he lay back and pulled her head to his chest, holding her tightly.
Rachel’s mind was in a whirl. She really didn’t want to leave Australia, and now she didn’t want to leave this man. But she couldn’t stay. Her whole life was in America, such as it was. She was happy there. Most of the time, anyway. But if that was so, then why did the very idea of leaving here make her heart ache? What in the hell was she going to do?
The End?