by Spear, Terry
Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips. Did she want him to kiss her? He sure as hell wanted to oblige. But not the way he was about to do. He crossed the floor, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was to be expected. They were newlyweds after all.
She reached out and grasped his hand. The tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she choked out.
He’d never expected this. She was sorry for not remembering their relationship that didn’t truly exist, and he felt lower than dirt. He gave her a light embrace, hoping to settle her upset, but when she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed hard, he nearly lost it.
She was warm and soft and needy. And he was a royal rat…doing a job, but a rat just the same. He’d never wanted to blow his cover before like he did right this very minute.
Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the scent of jasmine body wash that the female agent had used on her. Jenny’s breasts pressed provocatively against his chest, sending a flood of liquid heat through him.
The only thing that saved him was she wore a large forest green T-shirt hiding her luscious figure, unlike the nightie she’d worn the night he’d found her when she’d been attacked. Silky, short, and nearly transparent, he’d had a time keeping his mind on business. Before the other agents had burst into her home, all he could do was think of covering her, to protect her modesty.
But now with his holding her close, her perky breasts tipped with hardened nubs pressed against his chest, immediately, he was aroused.
When one of her tears dripped on his neck, he felt guilty all over again.
Tilting her chin up, he kissed her velvet lips. She responded by kissing him back, and he groaned inwardly. How could anyone as wonderful as she felt, pressing so lovingly against him, have been involved with that bastard Wilson?
Dale cleared his throat. “The tray’s getting heavy.”
Allan leapt away from the bed.
Dale smiled. “Glad to see the two of you getting reacquainted.” He settled the tray on her lap.
Allan motioned to the doorway. “I want a word with you.” He couldn’t help the venom lacing his words. Already struggling enough with his feelings over the whole messy scenario, he didn’t need his partners’ good-humored harassment. Normally not sensitive about such a thing, Allan couldn’t understand why they shook him up so, but he just couldn’t handle the needling this time around.
“Sure thing.” Dale turned to Jenny. “Need anything, holler.”
When they stepped out of the room, Jenny stared at her soup. She couldn’t even remember if she liked chicken soup. How weird could that be? She glanced down at her hand. She wore a small solitary diamond engagement ring and a plain gold wedding band. But she still couldn’t remember the men or the place at all.
Allan was dark haired like…like the way she liked her men? God, she couldn’t even remember that. But he did intrigue her. His thick, wavy hair curled slightly behind his ears and hung sensually at his collar. His eyes were nearly as dark a brown as the Brazilian nutshell. And he had the most remarkably thick black lashes any woman would have envied that framed his dark eyes.
But she thought his jeans and button-down collar shirt didn’t quite suit the tropics. And the redhead, Dale? He was dressed similarly, like they’d both just arrived on the island and hadn’t learned to dress for the relaxed lifestyle yet.
The worst part was she had no recollection of either man, but especially disturbing, not an inkling of the one who claimed to be her husband. Though his kiss stirred her with desire, she hadn’t ever remembered being kissed like that. Why wouldn’t she have sensed something about him that seemed familiar?
***
Thurman Wilson dragged his fingers through his shoulder-length black hair, new color, not sure he liked it much, as he stood in the office of his Pensacola, Florida hideaway. He glared the whole time at his hired hand. “Didn’t I say Jenny wasn’t to be hurt? Didn’t I say I needed her?”
Sonny, brown-haired and slightly built, trembled as he glanced over at another of Thurman’s men. A squared off, bulldog of a man, Caruso, folded his arms as he leaned against the wall, waiting for Thurman’s next order.
Sonny cleared his throat. “Blackie’s to blame. He woke the woman. I…I swear I don’t know what happened after that.”
Sonny gesticulated wildly with his hands, as if that would help him live through the night. Thurman leaned against his oak desk. He loved to see a man sweat before he died, the fear evident in his eyes, the perspiration dripping down his forehead. Sonny’s hand snaked out and rubbed the back of his neck.
Then he shoved his hands through his greasy hair. When he began to speak, he waved them around again like some kind of clown. “Blackie was going to get her. He ordered me to get the truck. By the time I managed the mile hike to the vehicle and drove back, lousy cops swarmed the place.”
Sonny shifted his attention back to Caruso as if expecting to see if he agreed or not. Caruso listened, stony-faced, not saying a word. Sonny turned to Thurman, his gray eyes focusing on his boss’s chin. He wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
Coward. Thurman hated cowards. They didn’t deserve to live.
“I waited, you know, to see if Blackie was coming out of there or not, but he never made it. Well, in a body bag, I guess. But one of the agents carried the woman out. She wasn’t moving, but she had to be alive, as carefully as he held her.”
Thurman looked down at the floor. He’d paid good money for his thugs, but none of them could ever be as clever as he was. “I have to have her.” His gaze refocused on Sonny. “Now they’ve got her. And they weren’t the police. Damned A.T.A. Always one step behind me. How had they been alerted that I was in Waco? That’s what I want to know.”
Thurman had barely escaped when he first spotted A.T.A. agents near Jenny’s tax office. He couldn’t very well have snatched her from her workplace. Too chancy to try to get to her at her home either.
He’d hoped his hired hands wouldn’t bungle the job, but he’d figured the agents were watching the place. No way had he planned to get caught going after the woman. He should have married her as he’d intended and then…he took a deep breath. She was the only woman he’d ever really been interested in. Too bad for her.
As soon as he’d recognized one of the agents in town, the number of A.T.A. agents in the area increased rapidly. Everywhere he looked, he thought he’d recognized one. He smiled. Having pulled a stint with them briefly, sure gave him an advantage. If they only knew. Cosmetic surgery worked wonders for a face.
Sonny shuffled his feet. “I don’t know, Mr. Wilson. We used every precaution when we went into the house.”
“Caruso says differently. He says the two of you bungled it. You were supposed to grab her while she slept. You were supposed to switch off the back porch lights and slip into the house unnoticed. Who the hell shot them out?”
“Conners. Not Blackie or me. I used the key you gave me and got into the house, but I got turned around and ended up in the kitchen. Blackie came in through the backdoor afterward, and we heard more shots fired. We knew we were in trouble then. I guess the rest of the guys were shooting at the agents. I swear we saw no sign of the agents when we entered the house.”
Thurman growled. “You wouldn’t have. They’re not going to be standing out in the open, smoking and joking, you imbecile.”
Sonny glared at Caruso.
Thurman spread his feet and folded his arms. Then he took a deep breath and faced Caruso. “I want her back. Contact Angel. I want her located and brought to me at once.”
Caruso nodded.
Thurman looked back at Sonny. “And take care of loose ends, Caruso.”
Sonny’s gray eyes grew big.
“Now.” Thurman had killed enough men in his lifetime to have his fill of it. His minions could do the job. The women were another story. He loved taking care of them himself. Soft throats, begging to be caressed. Their bodies naked and squirming underneath him. That’s what he loved.
Vulnerable, willing, and needy women.
Caruso carved them up neatly afterward to destroy the women’s identities.
“I’m going out for a bite to eat, Caruso. Let me know if you hear anything about Jenny when you return, will you?”
Caruso smiled, revealing a broken front tooth. “Yeah, boss.” He slipped his hand underneath his black waistcoat. “Come on, Sonny. Let’s you and me take a little stroll. Time to feed the fish.”
***
Jenny took a deep breath as she thought about her current predicament, lying in a bed in on Grand Cayman Island and suddenly married to a man she didn’t know. She couldn’t quash the worry she was hurting Allan’s feelings, even if she didn’t know him at all. Despite her own sense of inadequacy, she imagined Allan had to be suffering more. In fact, the way he acted so distant, she was assured of it. They must have loved each other deeply to have married that quickly.
She had an accident and didn’t remember him in the least bit…not one iota. That had to hurt.
She would do her damnedest to show him the kind of affection he was undoubtedly used to. In doing so, she’d most likely regain her memories, sooner than later, she hoped.
Yet, she couldn’t help feeling a bit odd, like she’d acted too boldly toward a man she didn’t know. Despite not remembering her past, she didn’t think she was the type of woman who’d just walk up to a stranger and kiss him. She swallowed hard. But she couldn’t hurt Allan any more than she already had. She didn’t want to treat him like a total stranger, even if her gut instincts told her she should.
After eating half of her soup, she grew queasy and set the tray aside. Climbing out of bed, she looked down at the green T-shirt she wore. Why couldn’t she remember her own clothes?
She walked to the mirror hanging above the dresser. Touching her dyed brown curls, she grimaced. The color didn’t suit her brows or her light complexion. Whatever made her choose such an awful color? She touched her cheek. She only vaguely remembered her face, come to think of it.
Feeling weak and with her stomach churning, she returned to bed.
As soon as she pulled the covers up, Allan walked back into the room. He looked at her half eaten bowl of soup. “Can’t eat any more than that?” He seemed concerned as a wrinkle creased his forehead.
“No. What happened to me, anyway?”
“A man hit you.” He watched her with such intensity, she was certain he waited for her to recognize something of what he said.
Taking a deep breath, trying to recall, she shook her head. A dull ache began in her temple. “I don’t remember.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No, I’m sorry.” With trying to recall, she felt the pounding in her head intensify.
“No need to be sorry, Jenny.” He lifted the tray off the bed.
“Why did he do it? Was he after my rings or something?”
“We don’t know.”
Dale walked back in the room. “Here, let me take the tray, Allan, so you can sit with your wife.”
Allan gave him a dagger of a look. Was he annoyed that Dale hovered around them when Allan wished to be alone with her?
Dale glanced down at the bowl. “Couldn’t finish any more of it?”
“Not the chef’s fault. Just feeling slightly nauseous.”
This time Dale and Allan exchanged another kind of look. One of concern?
Dale said, “I’ll take care of it.”
When he retreated from the room, Jenny leaned back in the bed. “Why is he here?” she whispered.
“He and a couple more of my buddies are staying at the condo on the first and second floor. We all work for the same government office and rent this condo the same time every year. The guys were supposed to give us complete privacy while we’re on our honeymoon, but after you were injured, Dale and the others have acted as lookouts in case the man comes back.”
She stared at the red flowers decorating the comforter, trying to think of questions to ask. Anything that would help her to remember. Looking back at Allan, she said, “What did the police say about it?”
“Probably some druggie looking for easy cash. Not too much crime on the island though. Any who commit a crime go to Jamaica to serve their sentence. Really cuts down on the criminal activity here.”
In an attempt to draw him closer, she patted the bed. Though he seemed like a perfect stranger, she didn’t feel threatened by him in any way. And she was determined to regain her memories as soon as possible. It was like the movie screen started at a complete blank, and the only thing on it now was what was happening right this very moment.
“You seem so apprehensive. Sit beside me and talk. I feel as though you’re getting ready to dart out the door.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared at the floor for a moment. “The doctor said that I had to be careful about your injury.”
“Ah.” So that was the problem. He worried he’d hurt her. Now it made sense. A wealth of warmth and relief cascaded through her to know she’d married such a sensitive man. “Well, come on over here, Allan. I promise I’ll let you know if we behave too recklessly, and I begin to feel badly.”
His dark eyes met hers. Did she imagine seeing a glint of panic in them?
Yet, her heart skipped a beat as worry sliced through her. Was it just the concussion? The lack of memory? Or something more that made her wary all at once?
Chapter 3
Allan took a deep breath as he considered Jenny, her face clouded with worry. He couldn’t help the attraction he felt for her. Her body begged to be cuddled. Her hair smelled of some kind of a floral fragrance that made his head spin every time he drew close. Her brows knitted together in a fit of anxiety.
She ran her tongue over her tempting lips, and he longed to do the honor next. Yet he had to remind himself he served to protect and help her regain her memories…nothing more.
Jenny was bound to be hurt emotionally if he took the relationship too far. Especially when he couldn’t even trust his own emotions.
Jenny asked, “Allan, are you having doubts about us? I must seem like a perfect stranger to you now.”
She was more than that. A luscious, warm, tantalizing woman who stirred his loins dangerously. That definitely wasn’t part of the job. When he’d saved her, a part of him felt like he was her guardian angel, for now and ever. He still had to remain near her in that capacity, but the way she enchanted him made him realize how much he missed having a woman to call his own.
“Listen, Jenny, we haven’t known each other—”
Dale broke in as he stepped into the doorway. “Maybe you need to take a break, Allan. You’ve been beating yourself up over Jenny for the last several days. Why don’t you take a walk along the beach, and I’ll stay with her?”
Allan combed his fingers through his hair. He knew Dale thought he was saving his butt by not allowing him to break his cover, but Allan hadn’t intended to tell her the truth. With irritation lacing his voice, he finished his statement. “As I was saying, Jenny, we met each other, and then before long, got married. So no, we haven’t known each other for very long.”
Jenny smoothed the comforter over her lap, her gaze shifting from Allan to Dale, and back again. “If you need a break—”
“No.” He wasn’t going to let Dale do the job he was supposed to accomplish.
The abruptness of his answer made her lips part. He realized at once he had to get a grip on his emotions. Before he could speak, she regained her composure and asked, “You don’t mind if I ask you more questions, do you, Allan? I mean, it’s driving me crazy not knowing anything about my past and about you. But…but, I’m sure you’ve been under a lot of strain. I mean, what with a new marriage, some thug nearly kills me, now I don’t even know you—”
Before he could speak, Dale waved a soda he held in his hand at Allan. “Can you handle it? Or do you want me to fill her in?”
Allan cut him a glare.
“All right, but remember…” Dale started to
leave, then turned to Allan. “I’ll be close by if you need anything.”
He walked out of the room.
Confusion reigned in her green eyes. Dale’s tone of voice had definitely been a warning. What in the hell would she make of it now?
She reached out to Allan. “Come sit with me.”
Her eyes misted when he pulled a chair next to the bed. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He couldn’t be what she expected him to be…a loving husband. The woman’s catlike eyes bore into his soul. She was like a newborn babe with no past, no foibles, totally innocent—except she was one hot looking, twenty-four-year old—single and available. More than available—willing and wanting—but only because she thought he was her husband. And damn, she felt guilty because she couldn’t remember him.
He would fill her in on the details of her life the best he could, to help her recover her memory. He had no problem with that, as long as the questions didn’t get too personal. “What do you want to know?”
“Do I have any sisters or brothers?”
“You’re an only child.”
“What about my parents? Are they alive and well? Do they know about my injury?”
“You sent them a message when you came to yesterday. They’re on a world cruise right now.” In actuality, her parents had been told Jenny won a three-week world cruise vacation. Postcards from various locations would be sent periodically to “show” her trip progress. A personalized note forging her handwriting would be added to lend authenticity.
“Oh. Do I work?”
“Not currently. You quit your job as an accountant for a tax firm in Waco, Texas.”
She’d given notice at her job, the Agency had discovered. But not in person, by mail. The letter had been sent on Friday and wasn’t received at her office until Monday. Yet she’d never made mention of it to her boss at all during work Friday. Her manager couldn’t understand why she’d upped and quit her job. Jenny had given no reason, just that she was quitting.
Was Jenny really committing to Wilson for the long run? Certainly none of the other women had given notice at their jobs before he killed them. Or maybe, Jenny didn’t send the notice. Nothing added up.
