by Rebecca York
But she was almost desperate enough to take the leap off the cliff. Almost.
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t try to…hurt me…control me?”
“No guarantee. You have to trust me. But that’s been the issue all along, hasn’t it?”
Chapter Nine
Could she trust him? Until this morning she had fought him every step of the way because some deeply buried commandment that had decreed she trust no one. Now tight fear clogged her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe.
Max’s actions had spoken eloquently in his favor. True, he had cuffed her to her bunk, but he had not hit her. He had never hurt her—even when she’d tried to kill him.
But then there was her basic problem. Since she’d arrived in Hermosa Harbor, she had been operating on pure nerves, trying to accomplish some mission that she couldn’t even remember. Which meant that putting herself in this man’s power was a foolish step to take. She should refuse.
Long seconds passed as her mind scrambled in circles, trying to decide. Finally, she drew in a shuddering breath, then raised her chin. “All right. Do what you have to.”
She’d thought he would look triumphant, or relieved. Instead, he pressed her with another question. “You’re sure?”
Her own anxiety leaped up. “No! I’m not sure of anything. You had better do it before I change my mind.”
“Okay,” he answered, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“You suggested it. Are you backing out?”
“No. I’m considering whether this is the best thing for you.”
“A minute ago, you said it was.”
“That’s when I was trying to get you to say yes. Now I’m thinking it through.”
“Carp!”
He laughed. “Well, if you put it that way, let’s roll.”
“What are we going to roll?”
He gave her a strange look. “You don’t know that famous phrase? From 9-11.”
“I know 9-11.” She felt chilled to the bone.
In her mind, she pictured two impossibly tall buildings. Two airplanes. Blinking, she focused on Max again. He was standing up, looking around the room, then out the window.
“There’s really no good place to do this. There’s no privacy in this damn marina. Let me give you a choice. We can drive out to the highway and rent a motel room.”
“A bedroom?”
“Yes. Or we can go below.”
“If we go below, where will we do it?”
“My cabin.”
She thought about that. Either way, she was going to be alone in a bedroom with him. Putting herself in his power. If she was going to do that, it better be quickly, before she lost her nerve.
“Your cabin,” she said, letting him lead the way.
He stopped in the doorway of his room. “You should really be sitting in a comfortable chair. So should I, but I guess we can use the bed.”
He started straightening the covers, and she moved to the other side of the mattress, helping him, trying to hide the shaking of her hands. He piled pillows against the headboard, then came around the bed and reached for her, folding her against him, stroking his hands up and down her arms.
“We don’t have to do this.”
“Stop giving me the chance to back out. You’ve offered to help me find out who I am and why I’m here. I have to take the chance. Then maybe I’ll have to leap off the bed and assault you.”
“Did you just make a joke?”
“I hope so,” she answered.
“Okay.” He took a step back, turning her loose, and she immediately missed the warmth of his body. “Sit on the bed. Make yourself comfortable.”
She did as he asked, feeling the stiffness of her muscles as she worked her back against the pillows.
He moved around the room, closing the gaps in the curtains, then turning on the lamp in the corner. When he leaned his hips against the ledge of the built-in dressers across from the bed, she could see he was also tense.
To break the silence she asked, “What should I do? Close my eyes?”
“No. Look up to the line where the ceiling meets the bulkhead.”
She raised her eyes, focusing on that spot.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” she answered, because she was trying to make herself so.
“Relax,” he said. “Everything is all right. You’re going to let yourself relax. You’re going to feel very good. Just listen to the sound of my voice and let your mind drift.”
His voice was low and soothing; it was easy to listen to. “You’re feeling sleepy. You’re feeling very good. I want you to relax now. Relax now.”
She settled farther into the pillows.
“Are you relaxed?”
“Yes,” she whispered because magically she was feeling much calmer than she had a few minutes earlier. She didn’t know why his voice and the setting were having that effect, but whatever he was doing was working.
“Close your eyes if you want to.”
She did.
“You’re going to a safe place. A place you’d like to be. Where is that?”
“The caves,” she answered, feeling a wave of longing sweep over her. She wanted to be back there. Safe and sound.
“Yes. Good. What are the caves?”
She tried to tell him. “They’re warm and secure. You can sleep there. The danger is outside.”
“Good. You’re warm and safe in the caves. Are you feeling good?”
“Yes.”
“Enjoy the caves.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Can you tell me more about the caves?”
“No!” The tension was back in her body.
“Okay. It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me about it. You’re warm and safe there.”
“Yes,” she agreed. But it was not quite the same now.
“Can you tell me your name?” he asked suddenly.
She started to answer, then knew she was not supposed to say. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not allowed to.” The feeling of danger increased, and she wanted to be back where she was warm and safe.
Maybe her expression had given her away, because he said, “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“Yes,” she answered, but she sensed danger coming closer. A pain had started in her head. It grew quickly, overwhelming her, making it difficult to think.
The walls of the cave seemed to close in around her, choking off her breath. She heard a groaning sound and knew that it had come from her own lips.
“What is it?” Max asked anxiously.
“It hurts.”
“What?”
“My head. It feels like it is going to explode.” It was true. The pressure inside her skull was more than she could bear.
“Annie.”
“I’m not Annie!” she cried. Another name floated just out of her reach, and she tried to grab it and pull it closer. But then it was washed away in a wave of agony.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice urgent.
She knew the answer to the question. Again she tried to speak, but the pain overwhelmed her, blotting out everything else, so that the memory slid away.
“Annie, wake up. Wake up now.”
“I…” Her body jerked, and she cried out.
When she opened her eyes, Max was beside her on the bed. He’d pulled her into his arms and was holding her tightly.
“My head hurts so much,” she whispered.
“Annie, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear.
She clung to him, fighting the pain, thinking she was going to throw up all that nice ice cream and make a mess of herself and the bed and him. But she fought to keep the food down and gradually the sick feeling and the pain in her head receded to a level where she could function. Opening her eyes, she looked around at her surroundings. She was with Max. On his boat. “I was somewhere
else.”
“Where?”
“The caves.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“I…” She tried to describe the place better, but the pain came zinging back to her, cutting off her breath.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.
“Too much pain,” she gasped.
He lay her down on the bed, then started to ease away. “Let me get you something.”
She clutched at him. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She forced herself to loosen her grip, to lie quietly as he left the room. He returned in a few moments with a glass of water. In his other hand, he held two white tablets.
“This should help,” he said.
She could have asked what he was giving her, instead, she took the pills and swallowed them with the water, because now he was the only solid, steady element in a wildly tipping universe. When he sat down on the bed again, she reached for him. After a moment’s hesitation, he lay down beside her, gathering her in his arms.
“Max,” she said in a broken voice, “what happened to me?”
His face turned hard and angry. “Somebody left a posthypnotic suggestion with you, all right,” he replied. “If you get the urge to tell anyone about your past, your head starts to hurt so much that you can’t say anything.”
“Are…are you sure?”
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “No. I’m not sure of a damn thing. But that’s the way it looks from here.”
“What can I do about it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got some limited abilities to put a subject under, but I’m no psychologist. I could take you back to Baltimore. There are people there who could help you.”
“No. I can’t leave.” She sat up, almost overcome with urgency. “And you have a job to do down here,” she added quickly.
He sighed. “Yeah.” He stroked back a damp lock of her hair. “How do you feel?”
She considered her answer. “Better.”
“Good.”
She knit her fingers with his free hand and held on tightly. They lay on the bed, wordlessly looking at each other, even as their eyes exchanged a wealth of important information.
There was nothing safe in her life. The cave was far away, where she couldn’t climb inside. But this man represented another sort of haven. He could make her forget about the terrible dark cloud that hung over her.
Gently he trailed his finger over her brow, her cheek, the edge of her jaw. “I’d like to choke the bastards who did this to you,” he whispered.
“Did what?”
“Stranded you here and made sure you couldn’t ask anyone for help.”
“Did they take away my memory?”
“I don’t know. That part doesn’t make sense.”
The look of frustration on his face and the deep feeling in his voice tore at her. It sounded as if he cared about her, more than anyone else had ever cared.
Without conscious thought, she lifted her hand and pulled his head down to hers. She squeezed her eyes closed, focusing on the wonderful sensations that always came from the pressure of his mouth against hers.
“Annie?”
She opened her lips, changed the angle of her head, did everything she could to increase the pleasure of the contact.
His mouth was soft against hers, yet hard at the same time. She couldn’t understand why that was true, but she loved the feeling.
He rolled her onto her back, pressing her against the mattress as he took control of the kiss, his mouth moving expertly over hers.
She felt something powerful gather in him, which might have frightened her. But she ruthlessly cast any doubts aside and let her own needs rise to meet his.
He was good at what he was doing. His hands and mouth on her felt wonderful. Not just physically, but so much more. This thrilling contact with him had the power to wipe everything else from her mind. There was no need to worry about what she remembered or didn’t remember and why. She only had to feel what he was doing to her.
They clung together, rocking slightly. The friction of his body against hers set up vibrations that reached every one of her nerve endings, creating wonderful sensations. Unconsciously she adjusted herself against him, so that the hard shaft at the front of his shorts was wedged against the hot, throbbing place at the top of her legs.
“Max,” she gasped, unable to say more.
He lifted his head and looked down at her, his gaze warm with emotions that both exhilarated and frightened her.
With his hips still pressed to hers, he shifted his body so that one of his hands could slide under her shirt. Watching her face, he reached to cover her breast, and she whimpered as he stroked the roundness of her. Her nipples had drawn themselves into tight points, and when he found one and circled it with his finger, she dragged in a strangled breath at the bolt of heat that shot downward through her body.
It was as if there was a channel inside her connecting her breast to that needy place between her thighs. He seemed to know it, too, because he caught her around the hips and pressed her more tightly to himself.
“Good, that’s so good,” she breathed, hearing the desperate quality in her own voice. She wanted more, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him what she wanted. Or if she even should.
But she sensed that he would hold her steady in the dark current that had pulled her under.
When he eased away, she tried to pull him back. Then she saw his hands on the front of her shirt, sliding open one button, then another.
She was reaching to help him get rid of the shirt when a little machine on the bedside table made a screeching noise, and she jumped. Knowing she had been caught doing something wrong, she tried to break away from him.
“What is that?” she gasped.
Max made a disgusted sound. “The clock radio. I’d forgotten I set it. Sorry. I’ll shut the damn thing off.”
His hand was hovering over the device when a man began to speak only inches from her ear. Phrases leaped out at her, and she grabbed Max’s hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Quiet! Let me listen.”
Moments ago she had been totally absorbed in what she and Max were doing. Now the mood was shattered. She focused only on the words.
“Preparations are moving ahead for Governor Robert E. Lee Bradley’s visit next week to Sea Kingdom. The Kissimmee High School band will play the state song. Then officials from the park will show him around the new dolphin environment. The newly completed exhibit at Sea Kingdom is expected to attract a significant number of tourists to the state and boost the local economy.”
The man switched to another topic, and Annie was left lying on the bed with her heart pounding and her breath coming in small pants.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” Max asked again.
“The governor…Sea Kingdom,” she said in a strangled voice.
“Yeah, apparently he’s visiting there next week. I guess it’s a big deal.”
He pressed a button on the thing he had called a clock radio, and the voice ceased. She brought her gaze to his and saw him looking at her, an assessing expression on his face.
“What’s so important about it?” he asked.
She wanted to climb off the bed and give herself some breathing space, but she stayed where she was and kept her gaze steady. “Something is going to happen,” she said in a voice that sounded surprisingly sure. “Something bad.”
He sat up and ran a hand through his hair as he looked down at her. Earlier, when he’d held her in his arms, his expression had been like a warm caress, now it was sharp and probing.
She sat up, as well. Ducking her head away from him, she hastily refastened her buttons—partly to give herself time to think.
But Max wasn’t going to let her duck the subject. “What do you know about it?” he demanded.
She struggled to sort through her jumbled thoughts. “I… Nothing for certain. But I can�
�t turn off the idea that…something…terrible is going to happen…when he visits the park,” she said slowly.
“Like what?” Max pressed, as though by asking the same question again, he could get the answer he wanted. Someone else had done that to her. Another man. But she couldn’t remember who.
She shrugged helplessly. “I can’t remember.”
He cursed softly. “I’d like to know what wiped out your memory.” He continued to stare at her, then began to speak. “Okay, how about this? Maybe you’re part of a radical group that wants to make a point by killing the governor.”
“No! That’s not right.”
“How do you know, if you can’t remember?”
“I would never hurt the governor.”
“Maybe that symbol you drew on the piece of paper is a message to the group. And that’s why you have to leave it at the fort.”
She thought about the symbol, the same one that was tattooed under her arm. “No!” she said again, because she didn’t want it to be true.
“What makes you so sure? You were ready to kill me. Why not an important official?”
She felt her throat clog, then tried to explain what had happened. “With you I—I panicked. I was trying to get away, not kill you. Deliberately coming here to kill the governor doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the other way round. Maybe I was sent to stop something bad from happening to him.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“Throw myself in front of him and take a bullet meant for him?”
“No!”
“That’s as good a guess as any,” she almost shouted.
When she stood up, too frustrated to lie still, so did he.
She wanted to go up to the lounge where she’d have more space. Only, now he was blocking her exit from the small room and there was no way to get around him.
Lifting pleading eyes to his, she said, “I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense to you. I wish it made better sense to me. All I know is that when I heard the name of the governor and the name of the park, I felt…a sense of urgency. I don’t know how else to put it.”
