The Princess Has Amnesia! (Crown & Glory Book 5)

by Patricia Thayer

  “You all set now?” he asked as he returned to his seat.

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered. After taking a bite, she savored the taste. She’d probably had better, but nothing more appreciated. “As I was saying…I don’t recognize anything.”

  “Well, when you’re feeling better, I’ll introduce you around,” he said with a cocky smile, then added, “sugar.”

  “I insist you stop calling me by that ridiculous name.”

  “You’re insisting?”

  Ana hated that flash of arrogance in his midnight eyes. She didn’t like being teased, never did. Another flicker of memory. Well, she wasn’t about to tell him that so she concentrated on eating her stew. But there was another pressing matter that she did have to talk with him about. She needed to use the facilities. She looked around the room wondering if it was through the bedroom.

  “What do you need?” he asked her.

  “Nothing.” She turned back to her food, but the need wouldn’t go away, it only intensified. She stood. “Would you please direct me to the facilities?”

  “Sure, but I’m going to have to go with you.”

  “I beg your pardon. I assure you Mr. Sanderstone, I’m capable of taking care of the situation quite nicely, thank you.”

  “The name’s Jake. And I think this time, especially in your condition, you need my help.”

  “You’ve helped quite enough. Now I want you to show me where to go.”

  His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “It would be my pleasure.” He pointed to the door. “It’s outside to the left about thirty yards from the cabin.”

  Ana bit back a groan, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her distaste. He went to the door ahead of her and helped her into rain gear and boots. He opened the door and walked her to the edge of the porch. He turned serious. “Sure you don’t need my help, sugar?”

  Her temper flared again. “Look…Yank. I told you, I can handle this.”

  She got the satisfaction of seeing his irritation before she stepped off the porch. The cold rain washed over her face and made her shiver. She moved slowly, but she would die before she let Jake Sanderstone know just how much she really needed him.

  Just before dawn the next morning, Jake was stretched out on the couch, listening to the crackling of the fire. Ana had gone to sleep in the bed. He’d checked on her off and on during the night. She was much better. Enough so he felt he could leave her for a while.

  After hours of deliberating, he’d come to the conclusion that he had to return to the crash site. There were two bodies up there exposed to animals and the elements, and he needed to bury them.

  There also might be a chance that the plane’s radio still worked. A slim one, but it would be great if he could at least get word out about the crash and the lone survivor. Not that there was any chance that a rescue team would get here until the storm passed and that could be days away. But he had to try.

  And it wouldn’t hurt to find out about the woman he’d brought into his home. Maybe he could find some information on her in the meantime. At least she would have a name and maybe that would help trigger her memory.

  He threw back his blanket and stood. He grabbed his dried pants from the hearth and put them on, next came his shirt and a sweater. He went to the sink and pumped water and splashed some on his face. The cold made him shiver. Well, if that didn’t wake him nothing would. Not wanting to waste any time, he’d eat breakfast on the trail and reached in the cupboard for some jerky.

  He grabbed his jacket then rubbed Max’s fur “Come on, boy, I have a job for you,” he whispered and led him into the bedroom.

  He stood next to the bed. Ana was asleep on her side, her hair nearly covering her face. He brushed the strands away and she moaned and rolled over on her back. She blinked at him, then opened her eyes.

  “You again,” she groaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of disturbing my sleep? Fine, do what you have to do.”

  Jake closed his eyes a moment and tried to erase the dangerous thoughts in his head. “I wanted you to know that I’ll be gone for a few hours. Max will be here for you. So you’ll be safe. There’s plenty of wood for the fire. It’s best if you stay in bed.” And out of trouble, he finished to himself.

  All he got from her was the soft sound of her even breathing. She was great for the male ego, he thought ironically. Well, when he got back he would know who she was, and with any luck, she’d be gone soon. He put on his rain gear, walked out the door, locked it, then grabbed the shovel from the side of the cabin and headed toward the ridge. In a few days he’d be all alone again.

  And that’s just the way he liked it.

  Chapter Three

  The trip took him nearly thirty minutes, but Jake made the climb over the ridge without much problem. The rain had finally slowed, and he hoped it would stay that way until he finished his task.

  When he reached the edge of the ravine, he paused, amazed at the destruction. Entire rows of trees had been bent or broken off by the force of the jet, but in the end, the mountain won out.

  His gaze lowered to the yards and yards of debris scattered along the ground. He walked past what was left of the tail, then to the plane’s fuselage, and the twisted metal was all that was left of the wings. They’d been stripped away as if the plane were a toy. Only the midsection remained intact and that was where Ana had been seated. Jake glanced inside and saw the cushions that she’d placed around her; the padding must have saved her in the crash.

  He quickly moved on. A job needed to be done before he could look for any clues about his guest. It could be days before anyone arrived to investigate the accident. Jake had to be careful not to disturb too much, but he couldn’t just leave the bodies unprotected, either. He walked about twenty yards up the slope to a pine tree, removed his backpack and picked up the shovel.

  About an hour later, he’d finished his digging. Ignoring his fatigue, he returned to the plane and removed the first body from the cockpit. He took the man’s ID from his pocket. In bold black letters it proclaimed him to be, Rory Hearne, Penwyck security, top priority clearance.

  “Rory,” he said the name aloud. “So you’re the one she called out for in the night.” Jake experienced a tightening in his gut that felt suspiciously like jealousy. That was crazy. He didn’t even know the woman. Why would he care if she and this Rory were lovers?

  Jake lifted the other man from his seat and retrieved his ID. He found a pilot’s license for Stephen Loden also from Penwyck. That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary since the small island of Penwyck wasn’t too far off the coast of Wales.

  After tucking Rory’s gun into his belt and the wallets into his jacket pocket, he started to lift the pilot and noticed a small tattoo through the tear in his shirt. A small, black sword. Where had he seen that tattoo before? During his years with the bureau, Jake had accumulated a lot of miscellaneous information, read over hundreds of advisory reports. As a terrorism specialist, his life had depended on it.

  A sword. Jake searched his memory. The black sword represented the Black Knights. That was it. The Black Knights were a subversive group located in Europe.

  Now he wanted to know what a security guard with top clearance and a pretty blue-eyed girl, with no memory were doing with a rebel. He had a lot of questions to ask his guest when he got back to the cabin.

  She woke up with a killer headache, desperate to find something to stop the pounding. Climbing out of bed, she found the dog at her feet.

  “Hello, fellow. Where’s your master?” Not that she wanted to deal with the rude man, but she needed medication.

  Still in the blue shirt that he’d given her, she gingerly walked to the door of the bedroom and opened it. There was a small fire in the hearth, but the room was deserted. Grimacing, she made her way to the kitchen area and located the first-aid kit.

  Trembling with relief, she popped open the lid and found the bottle of aspirin. She removed two tablets, then took a glass from the cupbo
ard. Pumping the water was a little difficult, but she managed. After swallowing the tablets, she went into the sitting area by the dying fire. My word, she was cold. There was a blanket on the back of the couch. She wrapped it around her shoulders and a familiar male scent suddenly filled her nostrils. She could smell him. Sitting down on the cushion, she burrowed into the warmth and closed her eyes.

  She could picture the brooding man, dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, his face drawn, tiny brackets lining the corners of his mouth. His straight white teeth were visible when he smiled, which was a rare occurrence. It was his beautiful raven-colored eyes that drew her attention, but the sadness she saw nearly broke her heart. What had happened in his life that made him want to live off by himself? A woman? What kind of woman was the man attracted to? Blondes…brunettes?

  She reached for a strand of hair. Hers was light brown. Plain light brown. Did someone think she was attractive? Was someone out there missing her, aching for her to come home? She tried so hard to remember, but there were only blank spaces. Was there no one for her? She had been in limbo for the past two days. What was worse, her rescuer, Mr. Sanderstone, didn’t want her around. Well, she didn’t care. The Yank was bloody annoying. He was also handsome and very well built. What a pity he didn’t have any manners, any polish.

  A splattering of heavy raindrops hit the window, and she stared out the cloudy pane at the storm. Would she ever be able to leave here?

  Suddenly there was pounding on the door. She got up and walked over, hesitating on her next move. Then she heard a familiar voice. “Hey, open up, it’s raining like hell out here.”

  She unlatched the bolt and swung open the door to find Jake. He was soaked to the skin and he looked angry.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  He pushed passed her, stripped off his rain gear and hung it up on the hook “I’ve been up on the ridge, burying your friends.”

  She gasped. “My friends? Do you know who I am?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t have time to look around to learn your name. The weather turned on me. After I buried the bodies, I had to start back.” He took a chair from the table, sat down and started pulling off his wet boots. He jerked off his sweater, then unbuttoned his shirt as he tugged it from his pants.

  With his black hair plastered against his head, he reached for a towel in the kitchen and mopped the water from his face and hair as he walked to the hearth. He looked at the fire and cursed. “Couldn’t you at least keep the fire going while I was gone?” He removed the screen and placed several logs on the dying embers.

  “I wasn’t informed that you had left. And there were no written instructions telling me to keep anything going.”

  “Common sense would tell you to add logs to the fire when it’s going out.”

  “You seem to forget that I was in a plane crash yesterday and I don’t have any memory,” she snapped. When she stood, her head began to spin and she swayed.

  Alarmed, Jake rushed to her side. “Whoa.” He grabbed her by the arm, led her to the couch and sat her down. Damn. What was wrong with him? He was being a jerk.

  “Does your head hurt?” Stupid question. He could see the pain in her eyes.

  “Yes, I took some medication from the first-aid kit.”

  “Then rest here.”

  “No,” she said, refusing to lie back. “I want to know what you found at the plane. Who…died?”

  He shook his head. “We can talk about it later when you’re feeling better.”

  “I need to know now,” she demanded. “Who were they?”

  He didn’t want to go over this now, but it looked like he didn’t have a choice. “There was a Rory Hearne, he was a security guard from Penwyck. Do you remember him?”

  She shook her head again. “No.”

  “You sure? You cried out his name last night when I tried to wake you. It seems you were pretty familiar with this guy.”

  She frowned. “What are you insinuating, Mr. Sanderstone?”

  He didn’t like the feeling that had creeped back into his gut. “I’m only stating facts, chère.”

  “Well, stop it. You act as if I’m guilty of something. What if this Rory and I were…together? Is there any reason we shouldn’t have been?”

  “No, but we’re trying to find out who you are.” He was pushing her, but since his discovery, this situation had grown a lot more serious. And he needed some answers. “Does the name Stephen Loden ring any bells?”

  She shook her head. “Was he the other man in the plane?”

  Jake nodded.

  “I want to thank you for burying them. That was kind of you.”

  “Forget it. I did what needed to be done.”

  “It was more than anyone could have expected of you, especially in this weather.”

  He got up. “Okay, I’m a nice guy.” He started toward the bedroom. “I’m going to change my clothes.”

  Once inside the room, he shut the door harder than needed, but his frustration drove him to it. He jerked off the wet shirt along with his undershirt. He was soaked to the skin. Peeling off his wet jeans was more difficult, but he managed. Opening the dresser drawer, he took out underwear and another pair of jeans.

  What was he going to do now? He’d come here to Wales to get away from complications like this. And he’d had one big problem dropped in his lap. But this one was attached to a gorgeous woman with an attitude.

  Not to mention a pair of legs that made his mouth water.

  By the third day, Jake had cabin fever.

  For the first time since he’d arrived in the mountains four months ago he wanted to leave. Thanks to one blue-eyed intruder, his peace and quiet—not to mention his solitude—was a thing of the past.

  Why should it matter so much if he had a visitor for a few days? The cabin sure as hell wasn’t big, but two rooms should be enough for two people. He wasn’t so much of a bastard he couldn’t share his space…for a while. Unless, of course, the other person was a woman who seemed set on driving him crazy.

  “Yank indeed,” he muttered, watching the continuing downpour through the window. Seventy-two hours had passed since he found his visitor, and as soon as this damn storm was over, he would take her down to the authorities and hand her off. But not before he satisfied his own curiosity and found out who his cabin mate was. Especially not until he found out what she was doing with a member of a known terrorist group.

  He glanced across the room to Ana. Awake for the past thirty minutes, she sat quietly at the hearth, studying the fire and looking innocent. The shirt he’d given her to wear nearly swallowed her up. He could barely see her fingertips under the cuffs, which made her look fragile. He pushed aside any feelings of compassion as his gaze wandered down past the shirttails to her long, smooth legs. Another basic need surfaced and a surge of heat rushed through his body.

  He growled a curse. She must have heard him because she looked up. Her hair, wild with curl, circled a pretty face, only marred by the bandage on her forehead. When their eyes locked and hers darkened like twin sapphires, he found his throat suddenly dry. Damn, she was gorgeous. Realizing that he was staring, he forced himself to look away, but his hunger stayed.

  He couldn’t let this woman get to him. Hell, she had a life somewhere. She could be involved in God knows what. So even if he wanted to pursue his interest, he couldn’t let anything happen between them.

  Her health had to be his main concern. “How is your head?”

  “It still hurts.”

  “No doubt. You must have walloped yourself but good when the plane came down. You’re lucky to have survived.”

  “Tell that to the two men who died.”

  “You’re not responsible for their deaths.”

  Frowning, she stood. “Then why do I feel responsible? Why do I feel that they were taking me somewhere? You said I was the passenger and they were flying the plane.”

  “Yes, and one was a licensed pilot. Besides, the plane had been cleared by the air
port to take off.” He came across the room and took a closer look into her rich enticing eyes, telling himself that he was only checking her pupils. They were normal. They had been for the past twenty-four hours. “You can’t keep second-guessing everything. It won’t change a damn thing.”

  “Well, it gives me something to think about since I don’t have any other memories before yesterday. What do you do when you’re by yourself around here? Besides go mad.”

  He shrugged. “There’s plenty to do.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “For instance?”

  “Like fishing, or riding or hiking. This area is beautiful.”

  “All I’ve seen is this room.” Her eyes widened. “And of course, the wonderful facilities out back.”

  Jake was getting fed up with the woman’s complaining. “Well, you better head to those facilities once more, because it’s about bedtime.”

  “It’s barely dark,” she said.

  “And we’ve both been up since long before daylight,” he insisted.

  “But I’ve slept all day. I’m not tired.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “Then you take the bed and I’ll sleep out here.”

  Damn, she was stubborn and he needed to get as far away from her as possible. He needed to be alone, even if he had to lock her in the bedroom to do it. He swung her up into his arms.

  “Put me down this instant,” she ordered.

  Jake ignored her demand and carried her into the small room crowded with a double bed and dresser. He pulled back the blankets, then laid her down on top of the sheet. When she started to argue, he leaned over her and placed his finger against her lips. “Whether you know it or not, chère, you need to rest. You’ve been through a lot in the past two days.”

  All the fight seemed to leave her and she nodded. When she reached for his hand, her soft warmth made his gut tighten in a familiar and long denied need. A need he had pushed aside long ago.

  “I can’t keep taking your bed,” she said. “What about you?”