Unforgettable

by Cassie Miles

  He started by lightly kneading the tense muscles of her shoulders and neck. The fabric of her T-shirt bunched under his fingers. “You really should be nude.”

  “If I was naked on this table, I’d come away with a belly full of splinters.”

  He stroked lower on her back. He could count her ribs, but her body was soft and feminine, with a slim waist and a sensual flare of her hips. Really beautiful. He needed to tell her.

  When he returned to her shoulders, she gave a soft moan—the kind of sound that lovers made. For several minutes, he continued to massage, and her moans got deeper and more sensual. “Oh, Jack. That’s amazing.”

  He agreed. It felt pretty damned good to him, too.

  As he rubbed near her tailbone, she tensed. “Be careful, that hurts.”

  “Let me take a look.”

  Before she could object, he reached around to unbutton her jeans. He slid the denim down her hips. A patch of black and blue colored the milky skin above her bottom.

  She grumbled, “Are you staring at my butt?”

  “You’ve got a nice little bruise back here.”

  “Really?” She twisted her torso, trying to look over her shoulder. “Where?”

  “Without a mirror, you aren’t going to be able to see it.”

  “Are you sure it’s bruised?”

  “How does this feel?” With two fingers, he pressed against bruise.

  “Hurts,” she said. “What should I do about it?”

  “I could kiss it and make it better.”

  She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. Her eyes were the purest blue he’d ever seen. Now was the time to give her his sincere compliments about her beauty, but he found himself tongue-tied. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t inexperienced with women, but this felt like his first time.

  “There’s something,” he blurted, “something I need to say.”

  Her eyebrows pulled down. “What is it?”

  He couldn’t blame her for being worried. Every time she turned around, he threw some giant revelation at her. She probably though he was going to confess to the crime of the century. “It’s nothing bad.”

  “Okay,” she said hesitantly.

  “I wanted you to know that I appreciate you.” Real smooth, Jack.

  “And I appreciate you, too.”

  They sounded less intimate than coworkers discussing a business project. He took a breath and started over. “I like the way your hair slips out of the ponytail and falls across your cheek. And the way you squint when you’re thinking. And the little gasping noise you make when you laugh.”

  “I don’t snort,” she said.

  “You catch your breath, as though laughter surprises you. It’s a happy sound.” Feeling more confident, he glided his hand along her arm. “I like the proportion of your shoulders and your hips. And your long legs. What I’m trying to say is that you’re beautiful, Caitlyn.”

  She reached up and touched his cheek. “Last night, I didn’t think we’d known each other long enough to make love.”

  “And now?”

  “It’s time.”

  That was all he needed to hear. He kissed the smile from her lips.

  FINALLY! HE WAS KISSING HER. Caitlyn clung to him. His massage had lit her fuse, and she was certain that she’d explode into a million pieces if they didn’t make love now, right now.

  She expected Jack to show his passion with the same skill he showed in every other physical activity, but he had seemed unsure of himself. His clumsiness was endearing, but not what she was looking for. She wanted him to sweep her off her feet.

  As he deepened the kiss, she felt his attitude change. He went from boyish to manly. Dominating and powerful, he took charge. With a surge of strength, he yanked her off the picnic table.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he said.

  “So are you.”

  “Men aren’t.”

  “You are.”

  He carried her across the clearing. She knew he wouldn’t stumble or drop her; she trusted him. In his arms, she felt completely safe.

  His step was sure as he bent his legs and lowered her onto the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag on the ground. Not exactly a feather bed, but she was accustomed to sleeping in rough conditions.

  Impatient, she tried to pull him down on top of her, but he sat back on his heels. Twilight wrapped around him. His eyes glistened as he consumed her with a gaze. Then he went to her feet and removed her shoes and socks.

  She looked down the length of her body, watching him as he stroked her instep and pressed on her toes. Another massage. Incredible! Most men required hours of pleading before they’d rub your feet. A burst of sensual tremors slithered up her legs, rising from her bare feet to her groin. She exhaled a low moan of sheer pleasure.

  He moved up her body to her already unfastened jeans. His hand slid inside her waistband. Her thighs spread, welcoming his touch. Quivering in anticipation, she arched her back, inadvertently putting pressure on her bruised tailbone. Pain shot through her. “Ouch.”

  He stopped what he was doing and stretched out beside her. “Does it hurt?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to stop.”

  “There’s only one thing to do.” He held her tightly and flipped onto his back. The move was so unexpected that she gasped. She loved the way he manhandled her.

  “I get it,” she said. “I have to be on top.”

  She liked this plan. As they undressed each other, she felt like she had some control. She decided the moment when their bare flesh would make contact. Lying naked on top of him, she reveled in the head-to-toe sensation. The cool mountain breeze that flowed down her spine contrasted the heat generated by their joined bodies.

  Even though Jack was on the bottom, he remained the aggressor. He directed her with gentle shifts in position and not-so-subtle touches. Her thighs spread. As she straddled him, he moved her hips up and down, rubbing hard.

  They were both breathless when he said, “You know I don’t have a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill.” Though she craved him, she hesitated. In his life as Racine and as Perez the mob enforcer, he’d been exposed to a lot of bad things. “Do you have any issues I should know about?”

  “I’m clean. Haven’t made love since I was in the hospital.”

  Her fingers ran along the edge of the scar on his torso. “You were Tony Perez when you were shot.”

  “A lifetime ago.”

  When he pulled her against his body, she knew that one night with him wasn’t enough. She couldn’t imagine a lifetime without Jack.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Caitlyn had been right to assume that Jack would be a great lover. He knew all the right moves and some unusual twists that had surprised and delighted her. Their first bout of lovemaking had been fierce and hungry. The second time was more about gentleness and finesse.

  On her side, she curled up inside the sleeping bags they’d zipped together. No other campers had chosen Devil’s Spike, and she was glad for the privacy as she watched Jack—naked except for his boots—as he started a fire in the rock-lined pit.

  Though she was enjoying the show, she said, “We don’t really need a fire. We don’t have anything to cook.”

  Crouched in the darkness, he coaxed the flames. “It’s a primal thing. Like a caveman.”

  His long, lean body was far too sculpted to be that of a primitive man. She’d told him that he was beautiful, and she’d meant it. He reminded her of a perfect sculpture.

  “We don’t need the fire for warmth,” she said. The early summer night was chilly, but the thermal sleeping bag would keep them warm enough.

  He stepped away from the pit and looked down on the tiny dancing flames. “Call it ambience. Or protection from bears. Every campsite needs a fire.”

  When he crawled into the sleeping bag beside her, his skin was cold. It took a couple minute of giggling and wrestling for them both to get comfortable. They ended up in a spooning positio
n, facing the fire with his arms snuggled around her.

  Turning her head, she looked up through the tracery of pine boughs into a brilliant, starry night. She should have been perfectly content, but the wheels in the back of her mind had started turning. She was thinking about tomorrow. Turning to the colonel for help was the right thing to do, and she was sure he’d get Jack where he needed to be for the trial. And then what would happen?

  As a journalist, she could use her press credentials to stay in touch with him until she’d written her story. But she couldn’t violate the rules of witness protection to be with him unless she was willing to give up her own identity and disappear. She couldn’t do that, couldn’t sever her ties with her family and friends. The most important thing she’d learned from this experience was the value of friendship. She and Jack never would have escaped if it hadn’t been for Heather, Danny and Mr. Woodley.

  “After you testify,” she said, “do you have to go into the WitSec program?”

  “I was wondering how long it would take.”

  “How long what would take?”

  He nuzzled her ear. “Until you started asking questions again.”

  “I don’t want to say goodbye to you tomorrow.” They had forged a bond, made a connection unlike anything she’d ever known. She might actually be falling in love with him. “We need to spend more time together.”

  “I wonder how much money I have.”

  “What?” She wriggled around until she was facing him. “What are you thinking?”

  “When I was Nick Racine, I wonder if I was rich or poor or somewhere in between.”

  They hadn’t had much luck researching his finances or his identity on the computer. “I couldn’t find Nick Racine in any of the usual credit databases. Online, you don’t exist.”

  “Which brings up a couple of possibilities,” he said. “I might be someone who lived completely off the grid. Or I might have a numbered Swiss bank account.”

  “Those are the choices? Either you were a criminal or a mogul?”

  “I vote for mogul. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about WitSec. I’d buy an island in the tropics with a waterfall, and we could live there, eating coconuts and mangos.”

  “Not the best location for a reporter,” she said.

  “You’d adjust, and I’d buy you a newspaper of your own. The Caitlyn Daily News.” With the firelight glimmering in his tousled black hair, he was disconcertingly gorgeous.

  “Unfortunately, we don’t know if you’re a crook or a billionaire. We need more information. Seems like we’re back to the beginning. We need to know more about your past.”

  “Blank,” he said. “Not being able to remember isn’t entirely due to amnesia. I consciously erased Nick Racine. Couldn’t live with the tragedy. Or with the way I handled my revenge.”

  She was tired and hungry. Having him naked beside her made her want to spend the rest of the night making love. But this was important; the future depended on it. “Let’s try to figure out the easy stuff. Like your occupation.”

  “Nothing comes to mind.”

  With the tip of her finger, she traced the jagged scar from his bullet wound. Other injuries had left their marks on his body. Obviously, he’d lived a physically active, dangerous life. “I think we can rule out Sunday school teacher and peace activist.”

  “I could be a peace activist,” he protested. “I have a gentle side. I like flowers.”

  “Flowers, huh?” She supposed that any memory was good. “What kind of flowers?”

  “Orchids.” His sexy grin slid into place. “That’s a good sign, right? Orchids are expensive.”

  He was the furthest thing from a hothouse flower that she could imagine. “Let’s go with your skills. What kind of work requires you to be a marksman? Why would you be trained in hand-to-hand combat?”

  “The military,” he said, “but that doesn’t fit. I have no memory of basic training or being on a base, can’t imagine myself in a uniform. Besides, you checked military data and didn’t find a record of Nick Racine.”

  Some jobs in the military weren’t part of the records. He could have been trained in a special operation—the kind that didn’t leave a paper trail. Or he could have been working for an outside organization. “You might be a mercenary.”

  “Maybe.”

  She’d never interviewed a mercenary but had met a few. They were cruel, emotionless men with cold eyes and even colder hearts. “You have the skills but not the temperament. If you were a mercenary, you would have slit the throats of Rojas’s men at the safe house.”

  “That’s not how I roll.” He caressed the line of her throat. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

  She caught his hand. “You’re both.”

  “There’s no point in figuring out my past. Tomorrow, when I turn myself in, the federal prosecutors in charge of the trial in Chicago will fill in the blanks. I’m sure they have a fat dossier on Nick Racine and Tony Perez.” He raised their hands to his lips and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “On Tuesday, I’ll testify.”

  She hated this neat, logical package. “What about me? What happens to us?”

  “I won’t let you go.” Though he spoke softly, his voice rang with determination. “Before I met you and became Jack Dalton, I didn’t give a damn about my future. I was empty. Didn’t care if I lived or died. You changed that.”

  She’d never been anyone’s reason for living. Unexpected tears welled up behind her eyelids. “What next?”

  “The possibilities are endless, babe.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and he kissed it away. She never wanted him to leave. She wouldn’t say goodbye to him. No matter what.

  THE NEXT MORNING, JACK STUDIED the trail map to find the most direct route to Woodland Park. The ATV was running low on fuel, and he didn’t want their plan to be derailed by something as mundane as running out of gas.

  His focus was clear. He wanted to get this thing over with so he could start his new life. No longer consumed by his past, he was ready for the future.

  Caitlyn sat gingerly on the backseat of the four-wheeler. “Know what I want?”

  He draped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick but thorough kiss. “Some of this?”

  She glided her hand down his chest and tugged on the waistband of his jeans. With a grin, she released the fabric and patted his gut. “I really, really want steak and eggs. A medium-rare T-bone. And hash browns.”

  “When we get to the Academy, I’m sure your colonel friend can arrange it.”

  “I’m starved.” She put on her helmet. “I burned off a lot of calories last night.”

  “It was a good workout.” Their lovemaking hadn’t been overly athletic but it had been sustained. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he was pretty sure that feeling went both ways. “A lot more fun than when I was training for the triathlon.”

  She whipped her helmet off and stared at him. “You were in a triathlon?”

  He remembered swimming, biking and running with the sun blistering down on his head and shoulders. “My goal was to finish in the top twenty.”

  “Did you?”

  “Sixteenth.”

  “This is a positive sign, Jack. Your memories are falling back into place.”

  He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to remember. The triathlon had been a proud achievement, but he couldn’t help thinking that something in his past would come between them. “It’s good to know I don’t have permanent brain damage.”

  When he mounted the ATV and drove away from their campsite, the fuel gauge dipped into the reserve tank. How many more miles did they have before it died? Caitlyn had told him that Woodland Park was only ten miles from the Academy, but she’d been iffy on distances.

  The trails were clearly marked, and it didn’t take long to find the main road—the most direct route. Barely two lanes, the graded dirt had the reddish color of sandstone. There wasn’t much traffic, but the vehicles varied from dirt bikes and ATVs to regular t
wo-wheel drive cars. When a slick, cherry-red, top-down Jeep Wrangler passed them, he watched with envy. The Jeep was a nice ride that made sense on this scenic road. In contrast, Woodley’s utilitarian ATV was like driving a lawn mower; it would be virtually useless in a chase.

  Being around other vehicles reminded him that they weren’t on a pleasure outing. He and Caitlyn were still the center of a manhunt. Last night, he’d felt safer. Nobody could have tracked their bizarre cross-country route from Pinedale.

  Today was different. On this road, they weren’t hidden by forest. They could be picked out in aerial surveillance. Patterson had talked about hitching a ride on a helicopter. What if that chopper stayed around? What if the marshals had an eye in the sky?

  The dirt road snaked along the side of a mountain. Every twisting turn revealed another panorama. At a high point, he pulled onto the shoulder and stopped.

  “Something wrong?” Caitlyn asked.

  “Not yet.”

  He walked to the edge of the cliff. In the distance was Pike’s Peak, glistening in the morning sunshine. A ribbon of road twisted through the trees below them.

  “Nobody can recognize us in our helmets,” she said.

  It was in his nature to plan for the worst possible outcome. If they were pursued, the dramatic views on a high road without a guardrail would turn into a death trap. Too easily, they could be forced over the edge.

  A dark SUV whipped along the road below them. The driver was going too fast, kicking up swirls of dust when he skidded onto the shoulder. “What does that car make you think of?”

  “The black SUV,” she said. “Rojas.”

  Gregorio Rojas was wealthy enough to pay for his own aerial surveillance. One of those choppers or gliders had been looking for them, and Rojas himself had come to finish the job.

  He climbed onto the ATV and maneuvered if off the road where he hid behind a fat boulder. He and Caitlyn removed their helmets and waited. His Beretta was in his hand.

  The SUV zoomed past their hiding place. Its dark-tinted windows made it impossible to see who was inside, but the passengers in this car weren’t taking the time to enjoy the mountain scenery.