by Sharon Sala
“Going to try and contact my brother again. I just want to let him know I’m okay.”
A nervous look came on her face. “Are you going to tell him about me?”
Roman frowned. “I’m going to tell him that there’s a possibility a plane went down up here. Didn’t you ever stop to think that there could be other survivors?”
The blood suddenly drained from her face. She could almost hear the urgency in the man’s voice. After you jump, count to ten and then pull this.
“There was someone. I keep remembering a voice telling me to jump, then count to ten and pull.” Her fingers fluttered around the middle of her chest, where the handle had been. “You know...the rip cord.”
Another chink in the armor around Roman’s heart just gave way. Every time he heard that frightened tone in her voice, he wanted to hold her.
“You did good, didn’t you, Daisy?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
She shuddered and then sighed. “Yes, there’s that.” The tone of her voice grew firmer. “Of course the authorities must know. Make the call. Do it now while I’m here.”
“Then put on your shoes,” he ordered. “I’m going outside. The reception should be clearer.”
“Wait for me. I won’t be a minute.”
Roman stood for a moment, watching as she ran to get her shoes. She had put the old gray pants and the red flannel shirt back on, and even though she was dressed warm enough for indoors, the cold outside was quite bitter.
“I’m ready, Roman. Let’s make the call.”
He took his parka out of the closet and held it out. “Put this on first. It’s cold as blazes outside. You’ll freeze.”
She was enveloped by its weight and warmth, as well as the scent of the man who wore it. Her heart told her that this was a little bit of what it would be like to be held within his arms.
There was laughter in Roman’s voice as he leaned down to zip it up. “You’re lost in there, but at least you won’t freeze.”
His head was close to her mouth. If she leaned just the least bit forward, she would have been able to feel the dark, springy strands of his hair on her face. She took a slow, deep breath, telling herself not to move.
Then he looked up.
The smile froze on his face as his gaze locked on to hers, and Daisy knew without words that he could see what she was thinking.
“Roman.”
The sound of his name on her lips was little more than a whisper, and yet he would have heard it if she’d never voiced the word. His gaze drifted across her face, from those deep, expressive green eyes, past the natural pout of her mouth to the tremble he could see in her chin. His belly clenched with a longing that shocked him. He inhaled slowly, watching every nuance of her expression for a warning to back off. It didn’t come.
“You know,” he said softly. “You’re not my type.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “I don’t like you much, either,” she said softly.
“Liar.”
She leaned forward and felt his breath upon her face. “I’m not.”
Roman cupped the back of her neck. “Then prove it.”
Daisy sighed as he came closer still. She couldn’t stand it any longer. Their lips met. Someone groaned. Daisy broke their connection long enough to whisper, “Take that.”
Then she kissed him again. “And that.” She clung to his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off of her feet. Once again, there wasn’t enough room between them for a thought to pass through. “And that, too.”
Roman groaned. He had more than he could take and still have good sense.
“Stop now, woman, while there’s something left of me to recycle. You’re right. You win. You don’t like me one bit.”
Roman nuzzled the side of her neck near the collar of his coat. She was the first woman he’d ever met who smelled sweeter than any perfume.
Daisy closed her eyes as her knees went weak. “I guess you’d better try that call.”
Roman groaned. He didn’t want to talk on a phone; he wanted to take her to bed.
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” he said, and reluctantly turned her loose.
“Still coming with me?” he asked.
“You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”
A rare smile broke the somberness of his face. “It scares the hell out of me to admit it, but I think I’m counting on that.”
For the first time since Daisy’s trauma had begun, she had a good feeling about tomorrow. No matter what happened now, she had Roman Justice on her side.
Roman pulled her beneath his arm as he punched in the numbers. Then he counted the rings. If Royal didn’t answer before the fifth ring, the answering machine would come on. He didn’t want to talk to a machine. He wanted to talk to—
“Hello! It’s your nickel, start talkin’”
Roman grinned. As usual, Royal sounded annoyed. He hoped Maddie wasn’t at the bottom of the problem.
“Royal, it’s me, Roman.”
Royal almost shouted. “Boy! It’s about time you called.”
“If you were so worried, you could have done the calling,” Roman said.
Royal muttered a slight curse beneath his breath. “I lost the damned number to your cell phone. Maddie, I told you to take that mangy-ass cat out of this house and back to the barn.”
Roman grinned. Unfortunately, his guess about Royal’s mood had been right on the money. Maddie was the root of her father’s ire. And he could hear the bell-clear tone of her little-girl voice in the background, still arguing her case.
“You heard me, girl,” Royal roared. “And for Pete’s sake, quit kissin’ the damned thing. It’s got fleas and God knows what else.”
“Royal.”
Royal paused in his tirade, as if he’d forgotten that Roman was even on the phone.
“Oh...yeah...sorry.”
“You’re going to be even sorrier if you don’t clean up your vocabulary around her. Just listen to yourself. ‘Mangy-ass.’ ‘Damned.’ And who knows what else. You’re going to be highly sorry when she goes to kindergarten this fall with those words on her lips.”
Royal sighed. “I know. I know. Hell’s fire, I need a keeper.” Then he shifted gears. “Back to you. Are you snowed in?”
“Up to my chest.”
Royal whistled. “You’re kidding.”
“No, brother, I’m not. And I have only myself to blame. Had I not given in to you in a weak moment, I could be home right now, enjoying a warm spring day, not shoveling wood into this fireplace like there was no tomorrow.”
Royal chuckled. “Well, at least you ‘got away from it all’.”
Roman glanced down at Daisy. “Umm, not exactly.”
“What does that mean?” Royal asked.
Roman changed tactics. There was serious business to discuss.
“Hey, Royal. I need you to do something for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” Royal said.
“I want you to check with the FAA and see if there was a plane that went missing anywhere in this area, then get back to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I think one went down somewhere around here, and because we need to notify the authorities, if they don’t already know.”
“Well, okay. But—”
Roman started to mention Daisy’s presence, but he kept thinking of the money in the downstairs closet.
“Just do it,” he said. “And if there’s one that went down, call me back with whatever information you can get and we’ll go from there.”
“In the meantime,” Royal said, “enjoy the view.”
Roman looked down at Daisy. “I am.”
Chapter 6
Gordon Mallory was in a panic. Billy was alive! Even if he was a screwup, he was still his brother and, in effect, had saved both their lives. But Gordon hadn’t forgotten that Billy had also betrayed him. Not only had he helped Holly escape, but he’d also given
away Gordon’s money.
His thoughts kept turning in circles, with fear uppermost in his mind. Had Billy talked? He didn’t think so, at least not yet. If he had, Gordon would have already experienced the consequences of the revelation. The fact that Gordon was flat on his back in a hospital bed wouldn’t matter to the authorities if they knew he’d committed a crime. He’d never known the authorities to be particular about where they found the guilty parties, just as long as they found them.
Gordon also figured if Holly’s father had talked to Billy, he would never have set foot in this room. All he could do was hope and pray that Billy had the good sense to keep quiet. If all else failed, there was the fact that Billy could still die.
Out in the hall, he could hear carts rattling. They were bringing the food trays. He shifted on the bed, trying to find ease. Moments later, a nurse came in with a tray.
“Good evening, Mr. Mallory. Your meal is here.”
He managed a smile, although how anyone could call this stuff edible was beyond him.
“I don’t know why they call this food when everything is liquid.”
“Now, Mr. Mallory, you’re quite lucky to be alive, and I’m certain Doctor has his reasons for putting you on a liquid diet.”
Gordon tried another smile. The last thing he wanted to do was antagonize his source of information. He sighed loud and long.
“I know, but it’s just hard to be positive when I’m so worried about my brother. They won’t let me see him and—” he let his voice drop an octave for effect “—he’s all the family I have, you know.”
The nurse’s expression softened. “It must be rough,” she said.
He nodded. “If only I knew how he was doing. Have you seen him?”
She hesitated. It was against hospital policy for a nurse to give out any sort of patient information other than affirming their condition.
Then Gordon added. “I know his condition is listed as serious.”
That much she could say. “Yes, that’s correct.”
Gordon glanced down at his tray, as if contemplating where to start. He picked up his spoon and took the lid off a small cup to his right.
“Well, now, cherry gelatin. It’s Billy’s favorite.”
The nurse frowned. “I’ll be back later for your tray.”
Gordon sighed again, hoping for a forlorn expression. When the nurse paused at the door and then turned, he hid his glee.
“Your brother is stable, Mr. Mallory. However, he hasn’t regained consciousness, so that’s probably why they have discouraged you from visiting. He couldn’t talk to you anyway, so there’s no need putting any stress on yourself by trying to walk.”
Gordon wanted to shout with relief. Instead, he maintained a calm demeanor.
“Nurse, I appreciate what you’ve told me. Rest assured I will keep the information to myself. And I will say a prayer for Billy’s recovery.”
She slipped out the door, leaving Gordon with a lighter heart. In fact, he felt so good about the news that he jabbed the spoon in the gelatin and started to eat. He was halfway through before he remembered he didn’t even like the stuff.
Davis Benton was in his hotel room and in the process of making a nuisance of himself, but he didn’t give a damn. He was on the phone with search and rescue, and until they promised him what he wanted to hear, he wasn’t going to go away.
“Look,” he said, “if it’s a matter of money, I’ll pay whatever it takes. The snow has stopped. The sky is clear. For God’s sake, please reconsider! The least you can do is go back to the crash site and search the surrounding area. My daughter was on that plane, and even though she wasn’t on board when you got there, she couldn’t have gone far.”
As be listened, the frown on his face began to smooth out. The next argument he’d been planning wasn’t necessary. It seemed they were already loading their gear.
“I’ll be at this number all day,” he said quickly. “You will let me know if—”
Then he nodded as the man on the other end of the line told him what he needed to hear. Moments later, he disconnected, then dropped to the side of the bed with a thump.
The room was quiet. Too quiet. There was too much silence and too much time to contemplate his shortcomings as a father. The only thing left for him to do was pray, so he did.
Roman was shoveling a path to the woodpile. The exercise felt good, even though the air was so cold it hurt to draw a deep breath. More than once, he’d caught Daisy watching him from the window. There was a tension between them that he couldn’t deny, and it had nothing to do with the weather. After what had happened between them this morning, the tension had increased. Everything he was about warned him to seize the moment—to go back into that cabin and take her to bed. He’d lived his life on the edge for too long and he knew all too well that for some people, tomorrows never came. The only certainty was the present, and even it could disappear in the space of a heartbeat.
It was the wisdom of getting close to Daisy that he questioned. Her amnesia and that bag full of money were two deterrents he couldn’t ignore. He didn’t want to fall in love with a criminal...or another man’s wife.
He scooped the last bit of snow from the path and tossed it aside before glancing back at the cabin. Daisy wasn’t at the window, but he would lay odds she wasn’t too far away. He stuck the shovel in the ground and began to gather another load of wood. May as well make the trip back a useful one.
She met him at the door, holding it open as he came inside.
“Thanks,” he said.
“I saw you coming,” she said quickly.
He stood without moving, staring at the confusion on her face and contemplating the idea of pushing this further. His heart said yes. His instincts for survival said no.
“You’re letting in cold air,” she said, and slammed the door shut with a thump as Roman moved past her, dumping the wood on the hearth and then dusting the snow off his coat and gloves before hanging them nearby to dry.
She was standing so close that when he turned, he almost bumped into her.
“Sorry.”
Her blush deepened. “My fault,” she said, and turned away.
Roman hid a frown. They were caught in an emotional seesaw, and unless one of them had the good sense to stop it, something was bound to happen that they couldn’t take back. And since his mind was supposedly sound, it was left up to him to be the one to practice good judgment.
She was busying herself at the sofa, brushing at a crumb that wasn’t really there, then picking up a book. She looked as awkward as he felt.
“Daisy.”
She jerked, and the book she was holding dropped out of her hands onto the sofa as she looked up.
“What?”
“About this morning...”
A faint flush spread up her cheeks.
“What about it?”
“What if you’re somebody’s wife?”
His meaning was all too clear, but giving up what she felt seemed a worse sin than persisting.
“And what if I’m not?” she countered.
“But you could be, and if it were my wife who was missing, I wouldn’t want her in some other man’s bed.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying. “But I don’t feel like I belong to anyone.”
Her answer intrigued him. “Then what do you feel like?” he asked.
Like making love with you.
The thought stunned her, and she looked away, but not before Roman had seen the want in her eyes.
“Never mind,” he said shortly, and headed for the kitchen, mentally cursing the size of the cabin and the snow outside. He needed to get away from her, and there was nowhere else to go but upstairs to bed. Since that was out of the question, then the kitchen it had to be. Only when he turned around, she was standing in the doorway. Her expression was grim, and there was a glint in her eyes he’d never seen before.
“I want you to understand something,” she said.
He waited.<
br />
“I’m attracted to you, but I’m not stupid, and I can only imagine what you must think of me. Whether I’m married, or have a significant other, is immaterial to the fact that I am, quite possibly, a criminal.” She drew a deep breath. “If the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t want me, either.”
Then she spun on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Roman with the impression that she’d just thrown down the gauntlet. Whatever happened now was up to him.
It was almost midnight. Roman came out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair and glancing at the sofa. Daisy was already in bed. He looked toward the fireplace. There was plenty of wood on the fire, and the screen was in place. She should be fine until morning.
The sweats he was wearing were old, his T-shirt even older. And thanks to the bit of laundry Daisy had done this morning, the socks he was wearing were clean and dry. He tossed the towel on the back of a nearby chair and then used his fingers for a comb as he slipped past the sofa to check the lock on the door. Even though they were miles away from any sort of civilization, he locked it out of habit.
He was halfway up the stairs to the loft when Daisy’s soft voice broke the silence.
“Roman.”
He paused in midstep, his heart suddenly hammering against the wall of his chest.
“Yes?”
“Good night.”
Only then did he realize he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled slowly.
“Good night,” he said, and listened until she’d settled again.
He crawled into bed with an ache on his mind. All he could think was, damn the snow and damn this situation all to hell. He thumped the pillow several times in succession before shoving it to one side. Then he rolled over on his stomach and, using his arms for his pillow, fell fast asleep.
Locked in a nightmare, Daisy struggled to get free of her tangled covers. In her dream, they’d become the ropes around her wrists, and her sleep had become the blindfold across her eyes. She kept trying to scream, but nothing came out except sobs. God help her, she didn’t want to die.
Roman opened his eyes with a jerk, his heart pounding. For a moment, he lay without moving, listening for the sound that had disturbed his sleep. Then he heard it. Daisy!
