I nodded. “And Hannah’s parents. It was Maxwell who was treating Hannah—who they believe she was involved in some kind of ... relationship with.”
“Relationship?” Her jaw dropped.
“A threesome, possibly coerced, with Maxwell and Maxwell’s boyfriend at the time.”
“Oh my god. That’s so ...” Horror rounded her eyes. “Is Adam ... Was he—”
“No. Maxwell’s boyfriend at the time was a lawyer, James Braun. He threatened to sue Hannah’s parents if they continued to come after them. Didn’t matter, because Maxwell disappeared out here not long after that.”
“Oh my god.” Her hand pressed to her stomach like she was going to be sick. “So they groomed Hannah, and then she committed suicide. I can’t believe this.” Her wild eyes found mine. “Do you think that’s what she’s doing here? Grooming people for this garden and then—oh, god. What if Rachel—”
“Lara. Breathe.” I bent in front of her and grabbed her shoulders like I could hold her thoughts steady. “A good tracker moves at a pace of observation, not desperation. We can’t get ahead of ourselves.”Again.
Breathing deeply, she took a moment and then nodded. “What rule is that?”
“Thirty.” I released her and sat back in the other chair, contemplating an additional tenet to my survival rules:Remain at least three feet from Lara Crane at all times.
Gripping the edge of her seat, she bent forward and hung her head. “Maybe I should get a copy of these rules.”
“Why? Do you want to obey me all the time?” The words were out before I could stop them.
She didn’t look at me, but she’d heard me loud and clear. Her shoulders stiffened, and I caught the fringes of pink spreading through her cheeks.
Ignore it.
Ignore me.
Of course, she wouldn’t.
Lara lifted her head, her hooded eyes finding mine. “And if I do?”
There was a loud screech that turned to static. We both jerked our attention to the small speaker hanging from the top of the tent just as Maxwell’s voice imbued the space.
I knew I was in bad shape when I welcomed this woman’s intrusion.
“Good evening, my wild hunters. I hope you had a wonderful afternoon immersed in nature and encouraging your wild core.”
We stared at the speaker like it would make a difference. Like ignoring a growing fire was an effective way to extinguish it.
“Tonight, our reflection will be on something critical to your wild core and the connection it has with others: physical intimacy.”
Shit.
I didn’t know who turned first, but in a second, my eyes pierced hers. Everything that shouldn’t fade away did—where we were, who we were here for—and left only one thought:Why was there so much space between us?
“In the wild, animals don’t disguise or hide their intentions or attraction, yet that is what society has taught us to do. Cage it. Restrain it. Compose it.”
I should have turned away. Looked away.Moved away.But I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze from her. And Maxwell spoke like she knew it.
“Physical intimacy isn’t only about touch. It’s about allowing your wild core to recognize its counterpart in another without barrier or restraint. When you find that connection with another person or persons, society teaches us it’s a distraction, when the truth is that it’s instinct. When you are hungry, you eat. When you are thirsty, you drink. And when your wild core connects with its counterpart, you give in.”
My hand tightened on my knee. Believing Maxwell to be right or wrong didn’t change my position. It didn’t change my attraction to the woman in front of me. And it couldn’t change my ability to act on it.
The last thing I could do was reach for Lara, no matter how my wild core or how my throbbing cock felt.
Stifling a grunt, I reached for one of the refillable steel water bottles that had been delivered along with the dinner tray, uncapped it, and downed several long dregs.
“That connection ... you feel it now in your tents. The awareness between you and your partner humming like a current of electricity that needs to be grounded.”