by Sharon Sala
Holly tensed. This was it. She turned to Roman, begging him with one last look to stop this madness before it was too late.
“Holly.”
Hope surged. He wasn’t going to let her go after all. She took a step toward him, but the look on his face stopped her intent
“What?” she asked.
“Find the truth, and the truth will set you free.” Then he lifted his hand to her face, brushing a flyaway strand of hair from her eyes. “I’ll be in touch.”
She suddenly panicked. “I don’t know how to reach you!”
Roman pivoted. “Wait a second. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the cabin, leaving the pair alone on the porch.
Davis fidgeted, knowing quite well it would be prudent to wait before he mentioned the rest of what he had to say, but prudence was not one of his strong suits.
“Your fiancé is in the hospital, anxiously waiting for your return. I’ll take you to visit him before we fly home to Vegas.”
Holly stiffened. “I don’t have a fiancé,” she said shortly.
Davis persisted. “But of course you do! You were eloping when the plane went down. Didn’t Justice tell you?”
Her chin jutted mutinously. “Yes, actually, he did. And I’ll tell you, just like I told him. I don’t believe it. I don’t feel it in here.” She put her hand over her heart, but Davis ignored it, and her.
“You just don’t remember, that’s all. In time, it will all come back to you. You’ll see.”
She kept thinking of the money. Something was wrong with this story; she just knew it.
She glared at him, muttering to herself as much as to him. “Don’t treat me like I’m simple. I didn’t have a ring, so I wasn’t engaged. How long had I known him?”
Davis looked startled. “Oh, uh, about three or four months, I believe.”
“Was I an impulsive woman?”
He shook his head. “No, actually, you’re pretty grounded in everything you do.”
“Was I the kind of woman who would elope with a man I hardly knew?”
She was backing him into a corner, and he knew it. “Actually, I was a little surprised, but he said you were—”
Holly pounced. “Oh! Then we’re operating on the word of a man who thought I was dead.”
Davis frowned. Put like that, it sounded suspect. And then he discarded the idea.
“Holly, dear, you’re just distraught, and I can understand why. Please believe me when I tell you that you’re under no pressure from me or anyone else to do anything you don’t want to do. Just come home.’ Give us a chance to prove we’re right.”
“I have little option,” she said, and then turned to look as Roman came out the door.
“Here,” he said, and handed her one of his business cards. “Call me any time, day or night. I check my messages regularly. I will get back to you as soon as possible, okay?”
Holly clutched the card tightly in her fist and, for the first time since the helicopter had landed, felt a small sense of relief. At least now she didn’t feel as if she was losing him for good. Even though she was leaving him behind, he’d given her a way to reconnect.
Ignoring Davis Benton’s presence, she threw her arms around Roman’s neck.
“Thank you for everything.”
Roman hugged her fiercely, knowing that when he let go, Davis would take her away.
“Like I said, I’ll be in touch,” he whispered.
To Roman’s surprise and her father’s dismay, she kissed him soundly before tearing herself away.
Davis took her by the arm and began leading her to the waiting chopper. She kept looking back, as if expecting some sort of reprieve.
And even after they were airborne and flying away, her gaze stayed fixed upon the man on the porch. It did her heart good to know that the entire time she was watching, he hadn’t moved a step away from watching her go.
Holly exited the hospital elevator with a rebellious glare. Davis took her by the arm and began escorting her down the hall.
“Just for the record, this is entirely against my wishes,” she said.
In spite of the fact they kept moving toward Gordon’s room, Davis seemed sincerely apologetic.
“But what if it triggers a memory?” he asked. “Don’t you want to remember?”
More than you can know. But she didn’t say why. Until she could explain the money to herself, she wasn’t about to mention it to anyone else.
“This is it,” Davis said, and stepped aside, motioning for her to enter first.
At that moment, Holly wished Roman were at her side, not this man who called himself her father. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the confrontation, and walked through the doorway.
Gordon was dozing. Roused by a touch on his arm, he heard someone calling his name and opened his eyes. The last person he expected to see standing beside him was Holly Benton. And the still, almost judgmental, expression on her face came close to stopping his heart. Afraid to move, he held his breath, terrified of what she might say.
Aware that things weren’t going as he’d envisioned between the pair, Davis began the conversation.
“I know just how you feel,” Davis said. “When I saw her, I was speechless, too. Aren’t we blessed?”
Gordon nodded, trying to smile and hoping it didn’t look as sick as he felt.
“My God,” he muttered, looking back at Holly again and knowing he had to say something appropriate. “Holly...my darling, this is a miracle.”
Holly didn’t speak. She kept staring and staring into Gordon Mallory’s face, and the longer she looked, the less she trusted him. He had yet to meet her gaze straight on, and he didn’t seem glad to see her, he seemed scared. Why would her appearance cause him this type of concern? Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she took careful note of his injuries. He looked pretty good, considering the fact that he’d survived a plane crash.
Gordon was worse than nervous. That cold look on her face, as well as her silence, was unnerving. He cast a nervous glance at Davis, wishing them both to hell with no way back.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked. “Has her speech been affected by the accident, too?”
Holly answered on her own behalf. “There’s nothing wrong with my speech, or my mind,” she said. “The fact that I can’t remember either of you does, in no way, mean I’ve lost the rest of my faculties: I’m sure you can understand how unsettling this is for me. I’m thrust into the midst of strangers who expect me to take their word for everything, which in fact, I cannot.”
“Of course, of course,” Davis said quickly. “No one expects you to—”
Holly interrupted, her patience worn well past the pretense of manners.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “But that’s the problem. You do expect things from me I’m not willing to give, and I’m sorry if it hurts to hear that. I’ve promised to go back with you to Las Vegas, but I will in no way honor a promise I don’t remember making. I have no intentions of marrying this man—ever.” Holly turned to Gordon, fixing him with a cool green stare. “I’m sure you understand my position,” she said shortly. “And while I wish you a speedy recovery, I have no intentions of trying to resume any sort of relationship.”
Ire flooded Gordon’s being. The infernal little bitch. How do I know she isn’t pulling this amnesia stunt to get out of revealing the whereabouts of my money?
Davis took his daughter by the arm. “Holly, dear, I can see that coming here was a mistake after all. This could have waited until we all got home and in more comfortable surroundings.”
She gave her father a startled look. “What do you mean, ‘we all get home’?”
Davis looked a bit nervous as he explained. “Why, I’ve invited Gordon and his brother, Billy, to convalesce at the estate.”
Holly felt as if the walls were closing in around her. Roman, damn you, why did you let them take me away? Then she remembered his card and felt in her pocket, making sure it was still safely
intact. It was there. He was only a phone call away. She exhaled slowly.
“That shouldn’t be a problem. The west wing is always reserved for guests. We...”
Stunned by what she’d just said, both men couldn’t help but stare at her.
Holly shrugged. “That keeps happening to me. I don’t know what I’m going to say until it pops out. Roman says that’s normal and that one day I’ll remember everything.”
Davis was elated. What had just happened confirmed what the doctor who’d examined her had also said. He had to restrain himself from hugging her. This was such a positive sign and one he’d been praying for since he’d learned she was alive.
As for Gordon, he could only stare in honor. For him, it was another nail in his coffin. The more time passed, the less were his chances of escaping justice. Between Billy’s revival and Holly’s resurrection, he was another step closer to ruin.
Chapter 10
The temperature was in the high eighties when Roman pulled into the parking garage below the complex in which his office was located. He got out of his car, then stood beside it, giving the area a thorough sweep before he popped the trunk. The weight of the duffel bag he slung over his shoulder was nothing compared to the weight of responsibility he felt in having it in his possession. He headed for the elevator with his hand resting on the gun beneath his jacket.
The ride up to the fourteenth floor was swift, but for him, none too soon. Last night, before he’d left the cabin, he dumped the money in the middle of the living-room floor and started to count. When he passed the five-hundred-thousand mark, he began to sweat. When the count had risen to over nine hundred thousand, he’d gone into shock. By the time he had finished, the count was so close to a million dollars, the few thousand it was off hardly mattered. And he’d promised to baby-sit the damned stuff until further notice.
Within a few short minutes, it would be safe and sound behind lock and key.
His secretary looked up as he entered the office, surprised to see him.
“Mr. Justice! I didn’t expect you in today.”
“Afternoon. Elizabeth. And you still haven’t seen me, okay?”
She smiled. “Yes, sir. I understand. If you don’t mind my asking, when am I going to see you?”
Roman returned the smile. “Day after tomorrow. I’m going out to the ranch in the morning. Got to see a little lady about a cat. At last report, it was flea-bit and severely off limits.”
Elizabeth’s smile broadened. Her boss’s fondness for his four-year-old niece was a well-known fact. She would have been stunned to know that another woman had gotten under his skin, as well, but in a different sort of way. She went back to her work as Roman entered his office, shutting the door behind him.
Roman paused inside, adjusting to the culture shock of civilization. This ultra modern high-rise was a far cry from the simplicity of the Colorado cabin he’d left behind. There was a stack of faxes on his machine and a small mountain of messages on his desk. A couple of packages had come in the mail that had yet to be opened, and a picture hanging on the wall over his desk was slightly askew.
But his focus was on the locked door across the room that led to a large walk-in closet. Inside were the classified files he kept regarding all of his cases, as well as a genuine reissue of an old Wells Fargo safe. More than once, he’d considered getting rid of the monstrosity. Now he was glad he had it.
In a few quick strides, he was inside the closet and down on his knees, working the combination. When the last tumblers clicked, he opened it, tossing the duffel bag inside. Only after the safe was shut, and the door locked behind him. did he breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
He dropped into the chair behind his desk and then swiveled toward the bank of windows, staring blankly out across the Dallas skyline. The view was lost upon him. He kept remembering the hurt on Holly’s face and the fear in her voice.
Don’t let me go. You are my world. Don’t let me go.
He jumped up from the chair as if he’d been catapulted and stalked to the windows. The traffic on the streets below seemed to be moving in fits and starts, just like the beat of his heart. Guilt was a kicker. He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Damn this situation to hell and back.
Moments later, he found himself back in the chair with the phone in his hand.
“Elizabeth, get me the home phone number of Davis Benton in Las Vegas, Nevada.”
“The Davis Benton?”
“Yeah. The Davis Benton. And if the damned thing’s unlisted, you know what to do.”
“Yes, sir,” she said curtly.
A few minutes later, she rang him back. “Mr. Justice, I have the number for you. Shall I make the call?”
“No. I’m going to make the call from home.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll bring it right in.”
“No need. I’m on my way out. I’ll pick it up.”
When he hung up, his pulse was racing.
A short while later, he pulled into his driveway and parked, glancing up at the front door of his house. Just for a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to know that Holly would be inside, waiting for him to come home. He felt in his pocket for the phone number Elizabeth had given him, then got out of the car and hurried up the walk to his house.
Even though the decor was definitely masculine, the burgundy upholstery with dark blue accents, as well as the jade vase on the mantel, retained a measure of casual elegance. Heading for the phone, he paid no attention to the gleaming hardwood floors and glistening windows, or the perfectly arranged throw pillows on the overstuffed sofa. And if he had looked, he would have thought little about it. Those were services provided by his cleaning lady, not by the love of his life.
He punched in the numbers and then caught himself counting the rings and holding his breath.
“Benton residence.”
Roman frowned. It wasn’t Holly’s voice, although considering Benton’s life-style, he hadn’t really expected it to be.
“May I speak to Holly Benton, please? Roman Justice calling.”
“Miss Benton isn’t taking calls. Would you care to leave a message?”
“She’ll take mine,” Roman said.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Benton has left strict orders that Miss Benton isn’t to be disturbed.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed angrily. The tone of his voice softened, but what he said could never have been misconstrued as compliance.
“Then you tell Mr. Benton that I called, okay? And you also tell Mr. Benton that I will call again tomorrow evening, at which time I expect to be put directly through to Holly or know the reason why. Got that?”
The maid hesitated, but just enough to let Roman know he’d gotten under her skin.
“Yes, sir, I will tell Mr. Benton you called.”
“And who are you going to say called for Holly?” Roman asked.
“Mr. Justice?”
“That’s right. I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. You have yourself a nice day.”
He hung up in her ear, then headed toward the front door. He had to unload the camping equipment and then let Royal know he was back.
Holly stood at her bedroom windows, gazing out across the carefully landscaped grounds. She couldn’t help but compare them to the wild beauty of the Colorado mountains. Here, everything was laid out in geometric patterns. Dark greens became the backdrop for the early-blooming flowers, while variegated greenery had been interspersed among shrubs and bushes that had yet to yield their blooms. A complex irrigation system seemed to operate on some sort of timer. She’d noticed it coming on and going off at various times of the day and wondered how much money it took to keep a place like this in operation. Somehow, the luxury of it all seemed a terrible waste, considering the fact that, except for staff, she and her father were the only two people in residence. Then she frowned, amending that to four, counting Gordon and Billy Mallory, who were to arrive tomorrow by special plane.
Her s
houlders slumped as she turned away from the windows to stare at the room in which she stood. It was decorated in shades of blue. A thick off-white carpeting covered the floor of the entire room. An elegant four-poster bed was obviously the focal point of the furnishings, with a matching dresser and armoire sitting on either side of it.
It was a woman’s room—all whites and laces, accented with china and crystal figurines. There were a few pictures on the walls, none of which seemed remotely personal in nature. No family photos. No school mementos. Just understated elegance. Holly frowned. It was very, very beautiful, and she felt as if she were in jail.
As she looked around the room, it dawned on her that she’d seen it before—back at the cabin—during one of her fleeting moments of lucidity. She sighed. If this wasn’t proof of her identity, then nothing would be. Just because she didn’t remember it all certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t so.
But she was lonely here. The staff tiptoed around her as if she had the plague. No one seemed willing to talk to her, and she wondered if this was normal behavior or if her father had given them orders not to bother her with questions she obviously couldn’t answer.
She dropped into a nearby chair. The term heavy heart had new meaning for her, because that’s exactly how hers felt. A phone sat on the table, only inches away from her hand. She thought of Roman and wondered if he’d gone home, or if he was still in the cabin, waiting for the weather to clear.
Downstairs, she heard a telephone ringing and stared at the one beside her, wondering why it didn’t ring in here, as well. Then it dawned on her that this was probably a private line. Testing the theory, she picked it up. The dial tone sounded in her ear. The urge to call Roman was almost overwhelming—to reconnect with someone she knew and loved:
Instead, she set the receiver back on the cradle and stood abruptly. Daydreaming would get her nowhere. She wanted this nightmare over, and the only way it could happen was to remember why it started. Davis Benton had brought her back to her roots. Maybe there was something here that would jar her memory.
