by Lisa Jackson
“I can’t sleep, either,” he admitted, conscious of her gaze on his back. If he’d only known a few weeks ago how painful this would be, the consequences of his actions, he might have done something different. Now, of course, it was too late. Much too late. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you.” He was facing the opposite direction, but he sensed her stiffen, knew that her calm had given way to wariness again.
Hell, McKenzie, how could you have been such a fool? Turning, he rested his hips and hands against the edge of the bureau. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” he said, measuring his words and hating the brutal effect they would have on her. “But you were right. We aren’t married.”
For a moment there was no sound. Nothing changed except the temperature in the room, which seemed to suddenly drop to freezing. Her big eyes stared up at him, nearly uncomprehending yet she was wounded to her soul. “I…I don’t think I heard you—”
“I lied.”
She sucked in her breath, as if he’d physically slapped her, then closed her eyes for a minute, gathering strength, like clouds roiling before the storm. “We’re not married,” she clarified, her eyelids flipping open to reveal a face ravaged by fury, a face as white as death. “And never have been.”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, God,” she wailed, her gaze turning toward the ceiling in abject misery. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why?”
“I couldn’t.”
Blinking hard, her lips flattening, her chin jutting in anger, she whispered, “I knew it. I just knew it and I let myself be fooled by you!”
“Nikki—” He took a step toward her, but she lowered her gaze and pinned him with all her righteous fury.
“You bastard. You miserable, low-life, lying bastard. You let me believe—”
“I had no choice.”
“No choice?” she hurled back at him as she scrambled off the bed. For a second she hadn’t moved, had seemed caught in a freeze-frame of time, but now she was all motion, her feet landing on the floor and her hands skimming the ground for the clothes. “No choice!” She snorted out his feeble excuse.
“They were going to kill you.”
“They?” she repeated, her skepticism brassy.
“The men who were chasing you.”
“Oh, now the story’s changed. Lord, I’ve pulled some dumb ones in my life—well, at least, I think I have—but this must take the cake!”
“Yes.”
“Convenient,” she said, yanking on her jeans and her blouse before pulling a sweater over her head. She didn’t bother with underwear as she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and started for the door.
His fingers locked around her wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home,” she said succinctly. “The one I remember.”
“You can’t.”
“I can damn well do what I please.” She sneered down at the hand manacling her wrist. “Let go of me, McKenzie. Unless you want me to call the police and have you up on charges of kidnapping me and holding me hostage, as well as assault.”
“I never hurt you.” She blanched and he swore under his breath. “Not physically.”
“Just take your damned hands off me before I scream,” she warned, her eyes narrowing in pure hatred. A piece of his soul seemed to shred, but he held firm, his face tightening into a mask of impatience.
“You could at least let me explain.”
“You had your chance. Over and over again. I begged you to tell me the truth, pleaded with you to be honest, and how did you respond? With lies and promises and God only knows what else!” She was nearly shouting by this time, her breathing uneven, her anger seeming to crackle in the air.
“So now you don’t have time for the truth.”
“From you? Never. I wouldn’t know what to believe.”
“For God’s sake—”
She kicked him then. With the toe of her soft Reebok. She nailed him in the shin and jerked away, but he sprang on her like a cat and snarled, “Just a minute, darlin’.”
“Go to hell.”
“No thanks. I’ve already been there,” he shot back, his eyes snapping blue fury, his nostrils flared and his rugged face flushed.
“So have I.” Glaring at him pointedly, she yanked herself free, ripped the ring from her finger and tossed it at him. “I think this is yours.”
He snapped the ring out of the air and the muscle in his face stretched taut. “I was only protecting you. It was the only way I could admit you into the hospital without a thousand questions being asked, the only way I could stay in the room and make sure that no one got to you—”
“Oh, is that what it was?” She cocked her head toward the bed. “You know, that’s the first time a man’s taken it upon himself to have sex with me to ‘protect’ me.”
His teeth ground together. “You’re impossible.”
“At least I don’t resort to lying to score.”
“That’s enough!” Both his hands opened and clenched, and Nikki had the distinct impression he wanted to put them around her throat and strangle her. Well, she wanted to strangle him, too! And yet a part of her—a silly, irrational, very feminine part of her still loved him. Lord, she was a fool! Be strong, Nikki.
“You’re right about that, McKenzie,” she said as she picked up her suitcase again and slid past him. “It’s way more than enough!”
“For once, just listen.”
“I’ve listened, Trent. Over and over again. And all I keep hearing are lies. Lies, lies and more lies! Thanks, anyway, I don’t need any more!”
He didn’t bother to try and restrain her and she didn’t know whether to be grateful or sad. A part of her still longed for him to take her into his arms, but her realistic nature kicked that silly notion right out of her head. She didn’t love him. She couldn’t love him. She would never love him and never had. Anything she had felt for him was a wasted, empty emotion—a fantasy that made having sex with him convenient and guilt-free.
Married to the man! Imagine! Even with the holes in her memory she should have known he wasn’t her type.
She threw open the back door and walked into the gray light of dawn. Mist rose from the ground in ghostly spirals, and the lake, down a steep incline covered with fir trees still moist from the night’s rain, was calm and gray. The still water seemed to stretch for miles to the opposite shore where, tucked in a dark ridge of hills, house lights were beginning to glow.
In a flash of memory, she saw herself on a sailboat, her father at the helm, her sisters, in fluorescent orange life jackets, scrambling over the deck. The mainsail had billowed, catching the wind, and the boat had dipped, skimming across a choppy surface of whitecaps.
The wind had been winter-cold and raw, but Nikki hadn’t cared. Jan had complained about her hair losing its curl. Carole was sure she had frostbite, but Nikki had laughed in the wind, feeling the grip of frigid air tearing at her ponytail and stinging her cheeks.
“Let’s go all the way to Alaska,” she’d cried, holding on to the boom for dear life.
“Aye, aye, matey,” her father had replied and she’d loved him with all her young heart.
“I’m not going to Alaska,” Jan had yelled over the cry of the wind. “I’ve got a date.”
Nikki hadn’t been impressed. “Big deal.”
“It is a big deal! I have to get home in time to wash and blow-dry my hair!”
“For Paul Jansen. Save me.” Nikki had laughed.
“That’s not a date. It’s a death sentence,” Carole added with a wink to her youngest sister. “But Alaska’s too cold.” Carole’s teeth had begun to chatter loudly. Her words came out in choppy little puffs. “C-can’t we g-g-go to Hawaii or L.A. or…”
At the mention of the City of Angels, Ted Carrothers’s grin had turned into a gritty scowl. Their mother had already moved to Southern California and had hinted to her daughters that there was another man in her life. “Just forget it,” he’d muttered to his would-be
sailor daughters. Then, spying Jan, he added, “Don’t worry, you’ll be home in time for your date.”
“Good.” She’d tossed her head and sniffed at her victory.
“No way! Come on, Dad,” Nikki had pleaded, her dreams crumbling. She ached for adventure and she didn’t want to go back to the empty house their mother had vacated two years earlier. “Let’s sail into the Sound.”
Her father had scanned the flinty sky, but even before he turned his eyes back on his youngest daughter, she’d known what he would say. The mood had been destroyed. “Ah, well, we’d better be heading back. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on if I’m going to be ready for the meeting in Seoul next week.”
Now Nikki stood staring at the calm lake greeting the dawn. Steel gray and cold. She shivered and didn’t realize Trent was beside her until a twig snapped beneath his boot.
“Second thoughts?” he asked. No longer was there any anger in his voice. Only regret.
She shook her head. “But thoughts, just the same.” She was surprised how quickly they came now. All at once, in a jumble, sharp, vivid memories that last week had been lost to her.
He touched her shoulder and she flinched.
“I don’t have my car,” she said, as if in explanation. “Since I don’t know the bus schedule, and cabs don’t cruise by this section of town at daybreak—”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No way. I’ll call a cab.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Silly?” She laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve already been played for a fool. I’m not really concerned with silly.”
“You know what I mean. Get in the Jeep.”
He actually sounded concerned. But then, he was a consummate actor. Hadn’t he convinced her that they’d been married? That they’d loved each other? Her heart wrenched at his story. So simple. So deceptive. Despite the fact that no one she knew had known of their romance, they’d fallen in love, hightailed it to the nearest courthouse, tied the knot and flown off to a small, out-of-theway island in the Lesser Antilles for a romantic honeymoon and while they were there she’d fallen off a cliff and nearly killed herself. Lucky for her he was around to snatch her from the jaws of death, carry her off to his bed and lie, lie, lie to her. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse.
“Come on, Nikki.” His voice was a caress.
“Not if your damned Jeep was the last vehicle on earth.” She hitched her bag on her shoulder and started for the main road. She’d stick out her thumb if she had to, though that might be a little risky.
His fingers clamped around her arm. “Get in the Jeep.”
“You can’t manhandle me.”
“I’m doing you a favor.”
She snorted. “Your kind of favors I can do without.”
He propelled her toward the door of the rig, pulled on the handle, and with a groan of metal the interior was open to her. “Get in.”
“I’m not going to—”
“If I have to shove that beautiful butt of yours into the seat, I will,” he warned, and she believed him. Her pride still bleeding, she climbed into the damned Jeep and gritted her teeth as he slammed the door shut. This was crazy. Pure, dumb insanity.
He slid into the driver’s seat and twisted the key in the ignition. He slammed the door shut and rammed the rig into Reverse. Within seconds they were driving along the rain-washed streets, joining the first few cars and trucks heading toward the skyscrapers swarming along the shores of Elliott Bay.
Inside the Jeep the air was thick. Steam rose on the windshield and Trent flipped on the fan. Cramming her back against the passenger door, Nikki told herself she was the worst kind of fool. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Just who the hell are you?”
“I told you.”
“McKenzie’s your real name?”
“You saw my ID, didn’t you? When you went through my wallet.” The barb stung. Oh, well, Sherlock Holmes she wasn’t.
“ID can be bought.”
With a sigh, he flipped down the visor, ripped the registration from its holder and shoved it under her nose. “No aliases, okay?”
The beat-up vehicle was registered to Trent McKenzie. He wheeled into the drive of her apartment building.
“Okay. So now I know your name.” She shrugged as if she didn’t care, but couldn’t help asking, “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a free-lance investigator. Primarily I work on insurance fraud. I told you all this.” He shifted down and the Jeep slowed.
“You told me a lot of things.”
The rig slid to a stop, idling near the doorway of one of the first-floor apartments. “I didn’t lie about the way we met, Nikki.” He cut the engine, and when she tried to open the door, he caught her arm. “Just hear me out.”
“I’ve heard enough. Two weeks of lies is more than anyone should have to swallow, don’t you think?” She managed to pull on the door handle, breaking a nail in the process. Too damned bad. “You lied to me, McKenzie, and what’s worse, when I knew you weren’t telling the truth, you kept piling on more and more lies.” Her words raced out of her mouth. “Not only that. You took me to bed, brought me back here under false pretenses, used me, and only when you knew the lies would begin to fall apart, did you finally come clean. But not until we made love! Excuse me, what I meant to say is not until we had sex!” So angry she was shaking, she threw off his arm. When he tried to reach for her again, she scrambled out of the Jeep, grabbed her suitcase and ran up the wet steps. He was on her heels, chasing after her, climbing the stairs behind her.
Her dream returned, surreal but no less terrifying as he followed her. It was as if they’d played this game before. At the landing, she whirled on him. “Leave me alone, Trent,” she ordered, but he was too close. He planted his hands on the doorframe near her face, trapping her with his body.
“I can’t, damn it. Look, Nikki, I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way.” His mouth curved into a selfdeprecating frown. “I should have told you sooner, but I couldn’t. Once you were released from the hospital, I…I wanted to stay with you. To keep you safe.”
“To sleep with me.”
“Yes!”
The air crackled with his admission, and Nikki’s throat was suddenly clogged. “Well, lucky you,” she said angrily, but the sharp honesty in his gaze cut through the armor of her defense. “You could have stopped things,” she whispered.
“I would have.”
“Sure,” she mocked, and she finally worked up the nerve to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of her mind. “Just who do you think you were protecting me from?”
His lips thinned a fraction. “Crowley.”
She sucked in her breath. “So I was right.”
“Maybe.”
She had a picture of the silver-haired man with his smooth black cane. She’d met him in the camera shop! Her heart nearly stopped. Yes, there was something deadly about him, the gleam in his eye was cold as an arctic well. But she didn’t believe he had the strength or stamina to run her down through a jungle. “But he wasn’t chasing me.”
“I don’t know that anyone was.”
She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. “But my dream. Everything else fits. And who was the man lurking on the veranda, huh? Was that you?”
“Of course not.”
“Well?”
“I thought it might have been a man I had following you.”
“Oh, great! Just great! Now you’re trying to tell me that one of the so-called good guys is a Peeping Tom?”
“No. El Perro denied it.”
“His name is el Perro? Doesn’t that mean wolf or something?”
“Dog.”
“Oh, come on.” She threw her hands toward the sky—in desperation or supplication, she didn’t know which. “This is too damned unbelievable.”
“Is it?” He shoved his face so close she could see the small lines of impatience around his mouth. “You asked wha
t I was trying to tell you and it’s simple. You’re in danger. From Crowley or one of his goons. Just because we’re back in Seattle doesn’t mean that you’re safe. I overheard you talking to Connie. I knew you were onto Diamond Jim. That’s when I started doing my research on you—because there was something about you I couldn’t forget. The senator’s dangerous, Nikki.”
She felt her throat tighten in fear, then shoved the feeling aside. No man, especially not a pathological liar, was going to tell her what to do with her life. “I don’t know why I should believe you.” She reached behind her, found the doorknob and pushed. It didn’t budge.
“Why would I lie?”
“You asked me that before and it took me two weeks to find the answer.” She dug through her purse, came up with her ring of keys and wedged the house key into its lock. With a click, the latch gave way. She shouldered open the door and stood on the opposite side of the threshold. “I’d like to say something profound here, something you could remember me by, but I can’t think of a blessed thing, so I’ll just say goodbye.”
“I’m not leaving.” To prove his point, he stuck the toe of his beat-up leather boots into the apartment.
“I’ll call the police.”
“Fine.” He didn’t budge an inch, and she felt the steam rising from the back of her neck.
“You’ve spent the last two weeks bullying me, Trent McKenzie, but it’s over,” she lied knowing that, in her heart, it would never be finished between them. But she couldn’t think of that now. “I’ll have you up on charges of harassment, fraud and kidnapping. And if those don’t stick, I’ll find some that do. So you’d better haul yourself out of here.”
He slid into the room, rested his hips against the wall, crossed his arms over his massive chest and nodded toward the phone. “Now I don’t believe you.”
She couldn’t make good her threat, didn’t dare call the police. Whatever story she was working on concerning Senator Crowley, it wasn’t yet ready to break and she had to be careful that Diamond Jim didn’t catch on to her. If she pressed charges against Trent, there was the matter of public record to consider, and there would be questions about their trip to Salvaje. Her story was half-baked and bizarre, her memory not yet a hundred percent. No, she had better keep the police out of this. For the time being. She looked up at Trent’s impassive face and wished she could shake some sense into him. He had backed her into the proverbial corner and he knew it.
