Riley's disappearance was beginning to irk her. The least he could do was phone – only they didn't have one, not yet. She was concerned, but hadn't wanted to admit as much. The urge to contact her father was compelling. Not because she was willing to admit she'd made a mistake – which she was strongly beginning to believe – but so that she could hear the sound of his voice. In his own quiet manner, George Raymond would lend her encouragement, which she needed so badly just then. But again they had no phone. Hannah had rarely felt more cut off from those she loved, or more alone.
By ten, she made her way into her bedroom, weary to the bone, both mentally and physically. The urge to weep was nearly overwhelming. Her marriage couldn't be going any worse.
Hannah stirred at the sound of Riley crashing around the house. Checking her clock radio, she noted that it was nearly three in the morning. Tossing aside her blankets, she leaped out of bed and rushed down the hallway to discover Riley awkwardly straightening a kitchen chair he'd knocked to the floor. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his balance.
"Riley." She was so pleased to see him, so excited, she ran directly into his arms. "Thank God you're home…" She hugged his middle, pressing her flushed face to his chest and squeezing tightly. The hours he'd been away had seemed like an eternity.
Although she'd labored most of the day, setting their house to order in an effort to put him out of her mind, it hadn't worked. She'd been worried. All evening her mind had played tricks on her, listing the places he might have gone, the people he could be with, until everything had crashed together in regret and confusion.
Apparently she'd caught Riley by surprise, and he stumbled backward until he collided with the kitchen counter. His arms supported Hannah, and when she looked up at him, fearing he might be hurt, he caught her chin with his hand. His eyes clouded for an instant as if he were surprised to find her in his home, then without warning, without giving her any indication of what he intended, his mouth came crashing down on hers.
The kiss was hard, almost brutal as he lifted her from the floor. The hand at the back of her head held her prisoner, although she didn't struggle. He'd taken her so completely by surprise that for a moment she was numb with shock. This was a Riley she didn't know. One that frightened her with his fierce, hungry demand.
"Riley," she said, pulling her mouth free. "No…"
He answered her by kissing her again, dragging his mouth back to hers. Gone was the gentleness she'd always found in him, the tender concern. Instead she was met with desperate need. He tasted of restless passion. Against her will, against her pride, Hannah felt herself responding. Her hands clawed at his shirt as she clung tightly to him.