Chapter Eleven
Rafe
Why on earth did I agree to relate one of the worst moments in my life to Iona? I barely know her. Yet I feel a strong compulsion to share those dark times with her. Most people who aren't scientists find it hard to believe that I was actually struck by lightning. After all, the average person has never met someone like me---a survivor of a powerful discharge. Everyone knows the old idioms "lightning never strikes twice" and "fast as lightning." For most of the human race, those are just things people say.
I wasn't fast enough, but at least I wasn't struck twice.
Fortunately, Iona doesn't question me any further until we've reached her home. Once we're inside, she insists on claiming my hand so she can shepherd me to the sofa. The pigheaded woman orders me to sit down. I try to speak, to tell her I'd rather take the adjacent armchair, but she sets her hands on her hips and gives me a mulish look.
"On the sofa, Rafe. Now."
I make an irritable noise, then obey her command. "Your turn, pet."
"What did you just call me?"
Pet . That's what I said---in reference to her. Bloody hell, I've gone soft. "Ah, never mind that. Just set your lovely little arse down on the sofa, please."
She feigns shock as if she's a cartoon character. "Rafe Knight is being polite? You must have been struck by lightning again this morning, and that's why you're behaving like a normal person."
"I am not normal. And if you'll get your blooming arse on the sofa, I'll explain why."
She drops onto the cushion beside me and grins. "I've never heard anyone say 'blooming' before in that context. It's adorable."
"I cursed at you, and you think it's cute. What a bizarre creature you are." I exhale a gusty sigh and let my head fall onto the sofa's back. "Seven years ago, I was out in the field, watching a mesocyclone while measuring the intensity and lift, hoping for a good batch of lightning within the storm."
"Why would you hope for lightning? And what 'field' are you talking about? Your backyard?"
"No, pet, not that sort. 'The field' means I was out storm chasing in Tornado Alley, which is in the American Midwest."
Iona seems intrigued, but I can't tell if that's morbid curiosity or a genuine interest in my story. She remains quiet, so I assume she wants me to continue explaining.
"I am a lightning researcher. That's why I was outside during dangerous weather, while most people took cover indoors. I'd been traveling with a group of storm chasers."
No, I don't think I'll mention that my wife was the lead researcher on that expedition. Not yet, at any rate. My relationship with my ex is a thorny mess of emotions that I'd rather forget about for now.
I suddenly realize I'm wringing my hands, and I force myself to stop doing that. "We had six vehicles in our convoy, and I was in the lead car. Once we found a good mesocyclone, we pulled over alongside the road and got out our equipment. When it became clear that the storm was shifting track, heading our way faster than expected, our group leader told everyone to retreat into their vehicles for safety's sake."
The woman sitting beside me wriggles about until she's facing me. She doesn't comment on anything I've said. Iona simply sits there watching my face while I go on with the story. Though I can see her only peripherally, I swear I can feel her curiosity burning into me.
I rub my hands on my thighs because my palms have grown clammy. "Being a ruddy stupid arse and a cocky arse as well, I stepped out of the vehicle and shut the door. To get a clearer view of the storm, that was all. I honestly believed I could get the photos and readings we needed before the mesocyclone got close enough to become dangerous."
When I glance at Iona, moving only my eyes, she seems deeply fascinated by my tale. My ex-wife and my son know what happened to me, but I've never told anyone else about it. Well, except for my employees.
"I had miscalculated the storm," I tell her. "What I hadn't accounted for in all my calculations and simulations was the power of positive streamers."
"What are streamers?" Iona asks, then she winces. "I'm sorry. I swore to myself I wouldn't interrupt your story."
"No worries. You can ask me anything you like, even interrupt if you have a question."
Her sealed lips form a sweet little smile. Then she kisses my cheek. "Go on with the story, Rafe, please."
"I'll get to streamers in a moment." I wriggle uncomfortably, and it feels as if invisible fire ants have climbed inside my trousers. "It all began with stepped leaders. Those are the best-known type of lightning because they are quite striking in the night sky or even in the daytime. I didn't hear the crack of thunder, though everyone told me afterward that it was deafening, like a bomb exploding. The camera I'd been holding somehow survived the blast, and that's how I know what happened next."
Iona, the lovely woman, puts her arms around my neck loosely. She continues to gaze at me steadily.
And I grow more anxious as the denouement of my tale approaches. "I was focused on the storm cloud and the stepped leaders. So, I didn't notice when upward streamers climbed into the sky, not until they met the negatively charged particles in the cloud. I became a part of the upward streamers. When the energy was discharged, it went right through me."
" A Dhia , Rafe. It's a miracle you survived."
"But I died that day."
She draws her head back, eying me warily. "What do you mean?"
"My heart stopped beating for two minutes and forty-eight seconds. Then it just...started up again."
"Someone must have given you CPR."
I shake my head. "No one knew I'd suffered a cardiac arrest until after the storm passed by our team. They were safely ensconced in their vehicles, taking measurements, too busy to realize I was flat on my back on the ground."
"That's horrible."
"It wasn't their fault. Storm chasing is a high-adrenaline activity, and some chasers get caught up in the excitement and are oblivious of everything else until the main event is over." I shake my head again. "And I was that sort."
"How you survived with no one around to provide CPR is a miracle for sure."
"Perhaps it was, but I've never been able to see it that way. My life essentially fell apart in the years after the lightning strike."
Iona slides onto my lap, straddling my hips. "Have you had any long-term effects from the lightning?"
"Oh, yes, plenty. Most aren't visible, but one is." I roll my sleeve up, almost to my shoulder. "This is the scar left behind by the bolt."
She splays her hand over my shoulder, then traces the red lines that branch out all the way to my elbow. "This looks like...a lightning bolt."
"Yes. That pattern is called a lightning flower. People like me who have fairer skin are more likely to have permanent, faint scarring." I dig out my mobile and flick through the photos I've accumulated over the years until I find the one I want. Then I show it to her. "I've kept this image on every mobile phone I've owned since the lightning strike. This was me a few hours post-strike."
She stares at the image, her eyes widening. Naturally, she would be shocked.Any human with feelings would look that way after seeing my wounds.
Then Iona kisses my scars and smiles. "You are even tougher and stronger than I realized."
I lose focus briefly because she has begun stroking my scalp with her soft fingers. I can't blame her for all my distraction, though. "The worst side effect has been my new penchant for flying off the handle. I also sometimes lose focus for a few minutes and can't remember what I'd been doing. Headaches are also a chronic issue."
"At least you've recovered enough to lead a normal life."
I let out a bark of harsh laughter. "Normal life? It's been one tribulation after another."
"All because of the lightning strike?"
"No. All because of me, because I couldn't manage the symptoms as well as I wanted, despite mental and physical therapy." I stare straight into her eyes. "That's why I've been so horrid to you."
She clasps my face with both hands. "No, Rafe, you are not horrid. Aye, ye can be a bod ceann . But now I'm finally beginning to understand you."
But I haven't told her the worst parts of my past. I need to know her better before I dump all that rubbish on her lap.
"I must be a devil, Iona. My son hates me, my ex-wife hates me, all your mates and relatives hate me."
She pecks a sweet little kiss on my mouth. "Wait until you've met all of them before you declare they despise you."
"Yesterday, you despised me."
"Today, I understand why you acted like a despicable bod ceann ."
I pull her closer. "What is a bod ceann ?"
"A dickhead."
"Hmm, I can't dispute that appellation. Even my own family doesn't want me around anymore."
Iona gazes deeply into my eyes. She opens her mouth but stops short of speaking.
"What is it, pet?" I ask.
"You have an ex-wife."
"Is that a surprise? I do have a son, after all."
"Toby is a sweet laddie." She pauses briefly, once again studying me intently. "Do you get along with your ex-wife? Does Toby? Oh, never mind. I shouldn't have asked."
"You have every right to interrogate me. But if you don't mind, I'd rather not discuss Angela yet. Not until I feel certain I can trust you." I squeeze my eyes shut and wince. "Sorry. I know how that sounds, but I don't mean it that way."
Iona places delicate kisses on my closed eyelids. "Look at me, Rafe, please."
With great effort, I obey her command.
Her soft smile begins to thaw the coldness at my core that seems to always remain lodged inside me. "Whatever it is, I can wait until you feel comfortable telling me. Besides, we should get to know each other better before we share our deepest secrets."
"Thank you."
Her delicate laughter tickles my senses. "Dinnae need to thank me."
"Oh, but I do. After the way I shagged you yesterday, I owe you something a bit more sensual and leisurely. Would you like that?" I trace my tongue over her lips, making her suck in a quick breath. "May I take that as a yes?"
"Mm, aye, please do that."
I glance at the picture window, where I can see cows grazing in the distance. "Your house is rather close to your neighbor. I've already scandalized you with wild, uninhibited sex in the hotel. Wouldn't want anyone next door to hear us. Though it seems the farmer is your nearest neighbor, and everyone else is a good distance away. They won't hear, but he might."
"Raghnall? No, he wouldn't pay any mind even if a meteor crashed down in his backyard."
"Good." I flip her onto her back on the cushions beside me. "Then we can fuck right here, all afternoon, and you can scream as much as you like."
"You ripped my clothes off last time. Today, I want to give you a full striptease."
"Maybe I'll do the same for you."
She grins, and I love that expression. Her eyes glitter with humor and lust. "Should I go first?"
"Yes, love, please do."
Iona pushes up onto her elbows and stretches one leg out to tease my cock with her toes. My trousers feel suddenly tighter. The siren walks those toes up my chest to my throat. "You stay right where you are. Dinnae move, dinnae speak, dinnae open your eyes until I say so."
"You haven't told me to close my eyes."
"Oh. In that case..." She walks her toes up my chin. "Close your eyes, Rafe."
I obey her command. Iona Buchanan is the only woman who has ever convinced me to do whatever she wants. My cock is hardening more every second. I need to bury myself inside her body as soon as possible.
A mobile rings. Mine? Hers? I'm too aroused to comprehend the difference in ring tones.
Iona flings an arm out to the coffee table and snatches up her mobile. " Mhac na galla . It's Eric."
"Who?"
"Eric Taylor. My unwanted suitor. Didn't you set him straight?"
I feel all my muscles tightening. My fists are clenched, though I had no conscious desire to do that. "Eric is not my son. It isn't my place to tell him anything. Talk to your brother and his woman. Eric is Rebecca's son."
"Aye, I know that." Her mobile is still ringing, and she scowls at the screen. "You're a man. Eric is a man. If you want to shag me again, better set that laddie straight."
"Why is it my responsibility to chastise an adult man who isn't even related to me?"
Iona leaps off the sofa. "You won't get in my knickers today. Get out of my house."
The anger has bubbled up again, and I can't think clearly. I have just one option to prevent another disaster with Iona.
I walk out the door.