Unsanctioned Memories

by Julie Miller

  Jessica had been crazy with fear and guilt last night, her mind torn by nightmarish glimpses of the past and present. Images almost remembered, fears she’d never forget. But a word, a kiss, a nearly constant touch from Sam had kept her sane and functional and gotten her through it all.

  “Ma, this past March…in Chicago…something happened. I…” She felt a desperate urge to tell her mother the whole truth, but she took a moment too long to work up the courage, to rethink the risk she’d be exposing her family to. She could already see the worry in Martha’s eyes. She was about to tear up herself. “Sam…he’s helping me get through it.”

  Martha lifted her hands and gently framed her daughter’s face. The fun matchmaking had all been cast aside. “Then he’s a keeper in my book.”

  Definitely a keeper. If he wanted to stay on after her attacker was captured. If he wanted to stay with a crazy lady like her. A relationship with her wouldn’t be easy. But she wanted to try…she was ready to try.

  Jessica covered her mother’s hands and smiled. “Ma, you know how much my family means to me. But—”

  “You just say the word, and I will clear your father and brothers out of here.” Her gaze slid over to the men who had turned to greet Sam, strolling around the side of the building with Brett. “See? All in one piece.”

  One strong, sexy, rough-around-the-edges piece. Jessica noted the clean shirt tucked into the jeans that were still wrinkled and dirty from last night. She also took note of the sly way his gaze kept darting over to her, even though her cousin Mitch had waylaid him to introduce himself and shake his hand.

  While she met, returned and was warmed by the gray-eyed attention, Martha kept talking. “With two break-ins in two nights, I’m not sure I can keep them from making daily checks on you at home. But I can give you some time right now. I’ll offer them a big, home-cooked breakfast. Go. Talk to Sam. Say whatever you have to say. Ask for whatever it is you want. I think he’ll listen. You owe it to yourself if you love him.”

  Love?

  The word felt strange inside her head. It turned over in her heart with a reaction different from anything she’d ever experienced with Alex. The idea of loving Sam frightened her, yet thrilled her at the same time. She hadn’t thought she ever would, could, fall in love again.

  She turned to her mother, knowing her frown expressed all her doubts and confusion. Maybe Martha knew her feelings better than Jessica knew herself. But love? “Ma, I don’t think I can—”

  “Go.” She squeezed her hand and held on when Jessica would have pulled away. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here to listen. Anything,” she reiterated with such a knowing look that Jessica wondered if her mother somehow knew the awful way she’d been violated.

  “Thanks, Ma. And I will. Soon. I promise.”

  “Right behind you.” Sam’s voice alerted her of his presence an instant before she felt his fingers lightly brush against her arm. She didn’t flinch. “With Harry in the clear for now, we’d better get back to the cabin and see how much damage the storm did. At the very least, you need a nap. You haven’t slept all night.” Like he had? “You are closed on Mondays, right?”

  “Right.” She’d scheduled an appointment with her therapist and had several errands to run. But right now home and nap and a chance to talk to Sam sounded like the best plan of action.

  Jessica hugged her mother, taking her up on her offer to keep her overprotective brothers at bay. “Can you buy me a couple of hours before reinforcements arrive?”

  Martha’s girlish grin beamed at the challenge. “At least that much.”

  A woman with a mission now, Martha turned and grasped Sam’s hand. “Thank you for all your help with Jessie. I know she’s being well taken care of.” She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed the dimple beside his mouth. Twin dots of color pinkened the apples of Sam’s cheeks above the scruff of his overnight beard. Martha pulled away and winked at Jess. “Call me tonight.”

  She went on her merry way, an irresistible force that hooked her arm through Sid’s and said something that gathered all her boys around her on the sidewalk in front of the truck.

  Sam helped Jessica into the truck cab, then circled around to climb in behind the wheel. Once the doors were shut and the engine was running, a heavy sigh buzzed across his lips. “What was that all about? It’s been years since I’ve earned a motherly peck on the cheek.”

  “She likes you.”

  “I’m glad somebody does.”

  So he had been grilled, tested, warned off by her brothers.

  Impulsively Jessica slid across the bench seat. She laid her fingers against his stubbly jaw, turned his mouth to hers and kissed him. It was nothing lingering, nothing seductive. But it was confident, caring and completely spontaneous.

  “And that was for…?” The question in his narrowed eyes made her smile.

  What were her mother’s words? “For standing by me when I needed you.” Her sensitized palm scraped along his beard as she pulled away. She curled her fingers into her fist to savor the chain reaction of heat that simmered in her bloodstream and curled deep inside her. “I know you could have gone after those men, or looked for clues. But you came to me instead.”

  “I wanted to be with you.”

  As an agent protecting his witness? Or a man protecting his woman? Her mother seemed to think it was the latter.

  Jessica didn’t move back to her side of the truck. Instead, she buckled into the middle seat belt and rested her head on Sam’s shoulder.

  “Need some body heat?” he teased.

  She nodded. But it wasn’t just his heat she craved.

  Sam reached out but paused, his hand hovering just above her knee. “May I?”

  She pushed his hand down, relishing the possessive brand of his fingers and palm encircling her leg. He dragged her right up against him, holding the length of her jeans-clad thigh against his harder, more muscular one. He dipped his lips against her temple and whispered some ragged words that filled her heart and touched the wounded, feminine part of her soul. “I’ve wanted to hold you all night.”

  Jessica wrapped her fingers around his wrist and granted him permission. “I need to be held.”

  Seven pairs of eyes stared at them through the windshield of the truck. She didn’t care.

  “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The truck lurched as it hit a rut, jarring Jessica from her dozing state. She lifted her cheek from the pillow of Sam’s shoulder and pushed herself upright, combing her hair off her face with her fingers. A passing glance in the rearview mirror revealed a long, deep groove in her face from where she’d lain against the strap of Sam’s shoulder holster.

  Holster?

  Forget dozing. She’d been out. Completely unaware of where she was or what she’d been doing. Just like a mini-bout of amnesia. The comparison wasn’t very comforting.

  When had Sam strapped on his gun?

  They were nearly home. What had she missed?

  “Sorry,” she apologized. She unbuckled her seat belt and moved to the passenger side where she could hold on to an armrest to balance herself as they pitched and rocked southward along the uneven terrain of Lover’s Lane Road. The space between them gave her a chance to think, away from the subtle pull of Sam’s protective strength. She’d made herself right at home, snuggling against him. “I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

  The sun played up the shadows beneath his eyes from a night without sleep, but he still managed a smile. “I wasn’t complaining.”

  She gently massaged the mark on her face and looked at the black leather strap of his holster. “Is anything wrong?”

  It only required a quick glimpse for him to ascertain what she was really asking. “I intend to have this with me from here on out. I won’t take any more chances with this guy. I have mighty big paws to fill when it comes to watching over you.” He slowed the truck to steer through a low-lying section of road that had flooded out. “I’m
your new official guard dog until Harry comes home.”

  His words were a mixture of awe and regret at the sacrifice Harry had made, but his tone was all matter-of-fact. Jessica hugged her arms around her waist and slumped against the seat. Her neck was bruised from where her attacker had wrapped something around it. Her body felt like one big ache after her life-or-death struggle.

  “You think he’ll be back, then?” They both knew she wasn’t talking about the dog.

  “I know he will.” She felt, rather than saw, Sam glance her way to apologize for the cold, hard facts she needed to hear. “He’ll be a whole lot trickier next time. He’s used the cover of the city to carry out an anonymous attack. Last night he used the storm and a couple of would-be thieves to distract our attention. We won’t see him coming. But I’m making damn sure this guy won’t be leaving.” The truck splashed up out of the water and gathered speed. “I’ll be ready for him.”

  Jessica considered the absolute certainty in Sam’s voice. If determination alone could make it happen, then her rapist—his sister’s killer—was about to see his anonymous reign of terror come to an end.

  And Sam wasn’t the only one determined to have this all done and over with. She sat up straight, then reached across the seat to brush a raven curl away from Sam’s temple and tuck it behind his ear. Her fingertips strayed into the kinks of midnight silk, bravely linking them in that subtlest of ways. “We’ll be ready.”

  Sam tore his gaze from the road and probed her so deeply with those icy eyes that she pulled her hand back into her lap as a subconscious means of defense. “That means I’ll be with you 24/7. Are you ready for that? I know you like your space, and whatever’s happening between us is probably scaring you as much as it’s scaring me. But I won’t go away until this is done.”

  Then he would go away? The idea that he’d have no reason to stay after her attacker had been caught played right into all the self-doubts about her womanhood that were still negotiating some shaky ground.

  But the logical part of her brain reminded her of that once-in-a-lifetime kiss. The gentle touches and the heated looks. And the idea that—as annoying as they might be—her mother’s talents were historically right on the money when it came to predicting future mates for her children. And she thought Sam O’Rourke really cared for her in some way.

  It was a frightening prospect.

  They crested the hill in front of the Phillipses’ farm and were both momentarily distracted by the devastation of last night’s storm, leaving a field of ripe corn shredded and pummeled into the ground. “I don’t know much about farming—” Sam was shaking his head “—but that can’t be good.”

  The Kent farm on the opposite side of the road was equally hard hit. But with Trudy’s inherited wealth and Charles’s real estate investments, the damage would be a minor inconvenience. For the Phillipses, on the other hand, it could mean disaster. She’d be sure to offer Derek as many paid hours or as much time off as he needed to help his family.

  And though it was easier to focus on someone else’s problems for a change, Jessica had never been one to ignore a challenge simply because it was difficult. She’d fought her rapist and last night’s attacker. She’d sought out professional counseling to help her deal with her trauma and amnesia. She protected her family from their own good intentions.

  And though it was scary, she couldn’t ignore her feelings for Sam O’Rourke.

  “What is happening between us?” she asked.

  “Not as much as I’d like.” His sexy mouth twisted with a wry grimace. “Sorry. True as that is, it’s too cutesy an answer.” He tapped his fingers, one by one, against the steering wheel, pressing them precisely, purposefully into the gray vinyl, channeling his tension there. “I came here to do a job. To catch a killer. To use you if I had to.”

  Regret was stamped in every line of his face. He didn’t have to apologize for his initial subterfuge, she felt his self-reproach seep into the air surrounding her as he exhaled.

  “You expected me to be a star witness and make your case. Instead you met a recluse with no memory of what you need to know.”

  “I met a beautiful woman who was rightfully scared yet willing to do whatever she had to, to protect herself and the people she loves.” His description of her eccentricities sounded like praise. “And you are remembering things. Bit by bit. It’ll come.”

  The brick gates of her property came into view at the bottom of the hill. They drove through the gates before she responded. It was her turn to fill the truck with regret. “It’d be nice if I’d remember it all before he showed up again. That’s the scariest part.” Her breath shuddered out on a sigh. “I can’t see the enemy coming. He could be looking me right in the face, and I wouldn’t know it was him.”

  Sam’s fingers stopped their drumming. He reached clear across the seat and squeezed her hand where it rested in her lap. “We’ll know.”

  We. There was such power, such comfort in that teeny, tiny word.

  Jessica turned in her seat, easing the stretch of his arm, massaging his hand between both of hers. For a few moments she studied the light tan of his skin, the sprinkle of black hair along his forearm. She ran her thumb across the rise of each solid knuckle and skimmed the sinewed strength of his long fingers. This was the hand of a crafts-man—undeniably strong, softly callused, beautifully shaped—an elegant sculpture of muscle and bone and purpose.

  It was a hand that could love a woman—or kill a man—with equal skill.

  “Sam?” She stilled her explorations as he pulled the truck up to one of the railroad ties that lined the lot. She clutched his hand tightly and lifted her gaze to his rugged profile. “Last night I know you made a choice to stay with me. And I’m grateful. But, if it comes down to it again, if you have to choose between protecting me or capturing…him—”

  “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  “—I want you to get him.”

  His hand chilled within her grasp. “Jess—”

  “Promise me that.” She unknowingly started the massage again. Taking strength, giving it. “He’s killed five women. He wants to kill me. And a man like that, with all that rage yet clever enough to hide himself behind a mask and bring a condom when he attacks—he’ll kill again. My life would be hell, knowing that. Knowing he got away because you stopped to save me.”

  Sam pulled away long enough to set the gears into park and unbuckle himself. He killed the engine, then turned in his seat. His shoulders swelled beyond the depth of the seat as he leaned closer. Reversing his grip, he consumed both her hands within his grasp. The conflict in his eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’ve been hurt.” They both knew she was talking about more than the scratches and bruises she’d received last night. His gaze darted back and forth, desperately searching her face for some weakness in her defensive armor so that he could argue his point. He wouldn’t find any. “I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.” Of that she was certain. “Promise me that, Sam. Say it.”

  The long silence that followed resonated throughout the truck cab and pounded in her ears. Sam pulled away, resting one hand against his thigh and scraping the other across his beard-roughened chin and jaw. He looked at her again. He struggled. She waited. And then a reluctant vow filled his eyes. His words were firm, though some husky emotion tinged the Irish in his voice. “I’ll get him. No matter what. I promise.”

  Relief mixed with a bit of dread as the danger of the request she had made poured through her. Giving her trust to a human ally, seeing an end to this nightmare for the first time shook her with feelings that were as frightening as they were freeing. She blinked back tears as fatigue and emotion threatened to overtake her. Instead of weeping, she acted on an impulse she hadn’t felt for far too long.

  In a flurry of movement, Jessica unhooked her seat belt and crawled right across the seat. She looped her arms around Sam’s neck and hugged him tight. “Thank you.” His unshaven cheek bru
shing against her softer one was an unexpected seduction. His strong arms folding around her and pulling her snug into his lap was pure heaven. “Thank you.”

  His arms shuddered around her and she felt his lips nuzzle her ear. “I’m not sure you understand what you’re asking of me. When I first started this thing—months ago, the night I saw Kerry in the morgue…” Jessica held on tight and rode the ragged rise and fall of his chest. “I wanted him dead. Dammit, babe, I’m a sharpshooter. I could do it. If I knew who he was I could do it. I could say he put up some kind of fight and I could take him out. I wanted him to put up a fight.” Now one hand was stroking methodically up and down her leg, from hip to knee and back again, creating a delicious friction between the denim and her skin. “But now…” His hand clutched around her thigh, dragging her impossibly closer. “I hadn’t counted on getting…involved.”

  Jessica leaned back against his arms so she could read the truth in his eyes. “Is that what we are? Involved?”

  Sam swept his hands all the way up her back and caught her beneath the fringe of her hair, cupping her jaw between the gentle assurance of his skilled hands. His eyes darkened with flecks of charcoal and slate as he studied her upturned face. “Yeah. I think I am.”

  His accent wrapped around the hushed words, warming them like a caress that thrilled her heart and nurtured her battered confidence.

  “I think I am, too.” Sam’s gaze lingered on her mouth, triggering a wistful, needy feeling inside Jessica. When he abandoned her mouth to study her eyes, she was left wanting. But his eyes—and something deeper inside—demanded her attention. “What’s wrong?”

  “That bastard took what was left of my family. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  Shaking her head, Jessica offered him a serene smile. She understood his anger, his sorrow. “I don’t want to be lost,” she reassured him. She brushed her fingertips across the point of his chin, setting every sensitive nerve ending abuzz with the masculine rasp of his skin. Then she pressed the pad of her index finger against the fullest arc of his lower lip and gave a gentle tug. “All I’m asking is if it comes down to it—don’t let him go.”