by Rebecca York
Until now. He was going to be famous after this week. When it was already too late. He would go down in the history books. He liked that. He would die, but he would have a special immortality as one of the best-known men of the twenty-first century. Of all time, really.
He looked into his heart and saw only a cold steadiness. He was as ready as he was ever going to be. He’d bribed his way into an excellent disguise. Tonight he was scheduled to meet the man who was selling him what he needed. Then all he had to do was relax and wait for the governor’s scheduled visit. Of course, he could do it before that, if he wanted. But he would probably wait. Because he liked the elegance of the plan the way he’d worked it out.
“WHY DON’T YOU sit down?” Kathryn said.
That was all the invitation Annie needed to drop into one of the easy chairs by the window.
Kathryn moved to the side of the room, where she picked up a small box from the dresser. “How about a nice, nourishing piece of chocolate?”
Annie wasn’t sure how to respond. The definition of chocolate flitted through her mind, just as so many other references had come to her, but it wasn’t anything she remembered personally.
Kathryn opened the box and held it out. Inside were little brown-paper containers each one with an individual square inside, some light brown and some darker. They didn’t look very appealing, but Annie picked up one of the darker ones and took a bite. It was like nothing she had ever tasted. Even better than the butterscotch sundae that Max had fixed.
Kathryn was watching her closely. “Have another.”
“I don’t want to make a pork of myself.”
“A pig,” Kathryn corrected. “But it takes one to know one,” she added quickly as she took a chocolate for herself.
Annie watched her enjoying the treat. “Do you feel guilty about eating that?” she asked.
“Well, I worry that it’ll make me gain weight. But I don’t feel like I’m taking anything away from starving orphans,” she said as she took the other chair by the window.
“Everything here—the food, the pictures on the walls, the people—is a…good surprise to me.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say you come from a spartan environment.”
“What does that mean?”
“A place where the food isn’t plentiful or particularly good-tasting. A place that doesn’t look very attractive. An uncomfortable place where personal relationships are discouraged.”
Annie’s head shot up. “I guess I know how you can come to some of those conclusions. But how do you know anything about relationships?”
“I saw you watching Thorn and Cassie.”
Annie felt embarrassment heat her face.
“And I saw how you are with Max. You want to be close to him. But you don’t feel quite right about it.”
“I must be pretty transparent.”
“Not to everyone. But I’m a psychologist. Seeing what’s below the surface of people is part of my job.”
Annie lowered her gaze.
“Does that bother you?” Kathryn asked.
“Well, I feel like I can’t hide much from you.” She sighed. “So you may as well tell me—how do I get Max to make love with me?”
“Let him know that’s what you want to do.”
Again she felt heat creep into her cheeks. “I have. He says that he’d be taking advantage of me. Do you think that means he doesn’t want to be intimate with me?”
“Do you?”
“He…he…” She stopped and clamped her hands around the chair arms.
“You don’t have to go into any details,” Kathryn said softly. “Just give him a chance to show you what he’s feeling. He had a rough time after his wife died. He’s cautious about relationships. But from what I can see, he cares about you. It would have been a lot easier to leave you in Florida than to take that computer thing out of you and bring you here.”
Annie nodded, hanging on the woman’s words.
“You should get some rest,” Kathryn said. “We have dinner at eight here. I’ll see you then, if you don’t need anything else now.”
“No. I’m fine.” Annie hesitated, then blurted, “In the nightclub where we were waiting to find out about the drug shipment, women were wearing color on their faces. Is there some here that I can use? Can you show me how to put it on?”
“Of course.”
They both went into the bathroom where Kathryn demonstrated the use of eye makeup, blusher and lipstick. “You could use foundation, too. But I don’t think you need it.”
Annie peered at herself in the mirror, “This looks pretty,” she murmured.
“Very pretty.”
“Do you think Max will like it?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you very much.”
Kathryn smiled. “It was fun.”
When Kathryn had left, Annie briefly explored the bedroom. The closet was full of garments that she suspected would look good on her.
After pulling off her clothing in the bathroom, she held up her arm and inspected the place where Max had cut the computer from under her skin. To her amazement, the incision was almost impossible to see. Apparently he had been right about the healing properties of Thorn’s salve.
Once she’d showered and washed her hair, instead of pulling on a T-shirt, she reached for a silky beige nightgown. It had lace at the bodice, a fitted waist and a skirt that fell gracefully around her legs.
The fabric felt wonderful against her skin. So did the clean sheets on the double bed in her room.
Snuggling under the covers, she let go of all the worries that had been plaguing her. She was safe here. Warm and comfortable. She could sleep peacefully.
Her self-protective instincts came surging back when the mattress shifted. Her hand shot up, but Max caught it.
“Is that how you react when someone tries to wake you?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.
“I’m sorry. I guess my training kicks in even without that thing under my arm.”
“How does the incision feel?”
“Fine. I looked at it before I took a shower. You’d hardly know.” She pushed herself up, then saw that Max’s gaze had dropped to the front of her gown, and the warmth in his eyes made her breasts tighten. Somehow she kept from folding her arms across her chest.
He looked as if he was going to reach for her. Instead, he took a step back.
“You need to get ready for dinner.”
To her embarrassment, the mention of food made her stomach growl, and she realized she hadn’t eaten much all day. “What do the women wear at dinner here?” she asked.
“The same clothes they were wearing at that meeting we had. I’ll see you down the hall in the lounge.”
She nodded, waiting until he’d closed the door before she got out of bed.
Then she dressed quickly in a green shirt and dark pants. In the bathroom she brushed on a little of the makeup Kathryn had shown her how to use.
Feeling nervous, she made her way slowly down the hall. Max was talking to Jed, but he apparently had one eye on the hallway. The warm look he gave her told her that he liked the effect of the makeup.
“Come try Zeke’s salmon spread,” he said. “Zeke is a gourmet cook. He loves an excuse to show off his skills.” Max scooped something creamy onto a cracker and handed it to her.
Like everything else she’d tasted since coming here, it was wonderful. And she made sure she told that to Zeke.
After dinner, some of the men settled down in front of the television to watch a basketball game. Others went back to their rooms.
“Do you want to see the gardens?” Max asked.
When she nodded, he left her for a moment and came back with a light knit covering, which he draped around her shoulders. Then he led her through a set of double doors. It had gotten dark, but floodlights illuminated the gardens. They wandered slowly down a path that curved gently through the greenery, then to a wooden bridge where a stream rushed over and around hu
ge boulders. The sky was navy-blue, with a few faint streaks of pink and orange.
Annie dragged in a draft of pure, fresh air. “It even smells good here.”
“You’re smelling the pine trees.” Max stroked her cheek. “You could stay here,” he said. “I mean, you don’t have to go back to Florida. With your training, Randolph Security would give you a job.” He laughed. “Most of the agents—me included—have come here from stressful careers.”
“Your wife was killed on a mission,” she said softly.
“Yes, she was.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I did. I was kind of self-destructive after she died. I’ve got my head screwed on right again.” Without skipping a beat, he switched the subject to her. “We can send agents to Florida who can work with the state police. You don’t have to take the responsibility. Other people can guard the governor.”
She was truly tempted, thinking that it would be wonderful to turn the job over to someone else. But she couldn’t.
“I’d like to do it,” she murmured.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“Somebody gave me the responsibility. If Thorn is right, they sent me back here because they thought it was vitally important.”
“If Thorn is right, they’re not very nice. And they certainly screwed up. You arrived here with no idea of what you were supposed to do. You still don’t know.”
She sighed. “All of that is correct. But I’m not sure I can just walk away from the job they gave me.”
“Even if they intended for you to die afterward?”
The words and the sharp tone of his voice made her cringe.
“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But it’s true.” She looked down, watching a leaf caught in the current. The stream was carrying it along, over rocks and down a small waterfall, and it had no choice where it was going. “It’s something I need to consider. But my head is still spinning from what I’ve already learned.”
“I understand.” He reached for her hand, holding tight. For long moments, they stood looking at the water. It was so beautiful here. So safe. And this man beside her wanted her to enjoy it all with him.
It would be easy to agree. Yet doubt gnawed her insides. When she dropped her guard, terrible images gathered in her head. Images of hundreds of dead people. Thousands. And if she stayed here with Max, she would be responsible for their deaths.
Footsteps coming down the path made them both look up to see Thorn walking rapidly toward them.
“I was looking for you,” he called.
“You found us,” Max said, sounding as though he wasn’t too pleased by the interruption.
“I’ve been running some computer simulations,” Thorn said, addressing Annie. “There may be a way to get your memory back. But there could be some risk to you.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Absolutely not!” Max said, fighting the fear that grabbed him by the throat.
He felt Annie’s hand clamp on his, and he clung to her because he suddenly felt unsteady on his feet.
“Let me at least hear what he has to say,” she whispered.
He wanted to shout that Thorn had just started and finished his presentation. But he figured she wouldn’t react well to his coming down on the researcher like a gorilla. Somehow he managed to keep his voice low and steady as he said, “You can hear him out, but I’m not going to let you do anything risky.”
Thorn remained impassive. “Why don’t we go back to my lab?”
They didn’t speak again as they retraced their steps along the path, then into the building through a side door. Thorn ushered them through a small, cluttered office into a spotless lab with computers and medical equipment. What made Max’s stomach clench was a padded table near one wall. Wires were attached from it to a computer.
“What the hell is that?” he asked, pointing toward the table, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer. But maybe it would frighten Annie enough to get her out of here.
Thorn turned to face him. “You’ve heard of electro-shock treatments?”
“Yeah, they’re given to patients with severe depression.”
“Right.”
“Do you know those treatments often destroy the patient’s memory?”
Max nodded.
“Well, I’ve been working with some doctors at the Haversham Clinic in Baltimore. We’re trying to come up with a procedure that will reverse that memory loss.”
Max snorted. He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he said, “Have you had any success?”
“We haven’t tested it on a patient yet.”
“Oh, yeah, right. But I get the feeling you want to use Annie as a guinea pig.”
She put a hand on his arm. “Let him explain what he’s doing,” she said gently.
Max gave her a dark look, then pressed his lips together because he knew he wasn’t doing himself any good.
Thorn began lecturing on the nature of memory and electrical activity within the brain.
When he finished, Max managed not to issue a curse before saying, “I don’t like it.”
“It’s not up to you,” the researcher said mildly. He looked at Annie. “What do you think?”
Max couldn’t breathe as he waited for her answer.
“It has a chance of restoring my memory?”
“But it’s risky!” Max almost shouted.
“How risky? What could happen?” she asked.
At least Thorn didn’t lie about it. “It could destroy your present memories. It could do something we haven’t anticipated. There’s always a risk when you’re dealing with the human brain.”
Max slung an arm around Annie and wedged her against his side.
“I’ll have to think about it,” she said.
“I understand,” Thorn answered. “I just wanted to introduce the idea to you. We can talk more about it later. And probably you’ll have some questions for me.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Max said, tugging her along with him as he strode out of the lab. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe.
“Slow down,” Annie begged, and he felt a stab of guilt. This morning he had drugged her and dug a computer-like device out of her flesh. Now he was racing her along the corridors as though the devil were in pursuit. Slowing his pace, he tried to decide which of their two bedrooms would be best. Finally, he led her into his room and closed the door behind them.
Because he wanted maximum privacy, he walked toward the double patio doors and pulled the curtains, completely obliterating the moonlight.
He turned to find Annie watching him. He’d thought that taking out that damn implant had made her safe—until Thorn had given him the scare of his life. If he knew anything, he knew that he couldn’t risk losing this woman. The more he knew about her, the more important she became to him.
She had to stay in his life. And he had to make her understand what he was feeling.
“Annie,” he said, unable to stop himself from closing the space between them and pulling her into his arms.
It was a relief that she molded her body to his, cleaved to him.
He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure that talking would do him any good, anyway. So he lowered his head and ravaged her mouth, feeling the edge of desperation in the kiss, feeling as if he were drowning, with no one to save him except the woman in his arms.
“Hold on to me, honey,” he murmured, his words warm against her lips.
She did as he asked, tightening her arms around his waist.
His hands ran possessively up and down her back as he deepened the kiss, giving her everything he could, yet taking at the same time. Because he was so damn needy.
He had told himself he wouldn’t make love with her until she knew him better. Until she knew this world better.
But now fear had driven him past any kind of normal need. He had wanted her since the night when she’d so sweetly l
et him give her pleasure. Wanted her with an urgency that frightened him. Now he felt his heart slamming against the walls of his chest as he gathered her in.
The taste of her was intoxicating. The feel of her mouth on his, the pressure of her breasts against his chest were exquisite.
The way her hips rubbed his erection drove every thought out of his mind—save two. He must have her. And he must keep her safe.
In some deeply, buried part of his mind, he knew he was pushing her too fast. But it was beyond his power to turn her loose. Not when she was making small, enticing sounds in her throat, begging him to take her where they both wanted to go. He knew he would go out of his mind if he didn’t show her what he felt for her tonight. Tonight and every other night for the rest of his life.
He felt her trembling in his arms, which brought back a small measure of sanity.
Lifting his head, he said, “What the hell am I doing?”
“You’re going to do what I asked for last night,” she said in a voice as quivery as her body.
“Yeah, but not like this.”
A mixture of relief and disappointment washed over her face. “Then how?” she asked in a barely audible voice.
“With a little more finesse.” He loosened his grip on her, then dragged in a breath. “I guess I’d better ask. Is having sexual intercourse what you want to do?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then maybe you’ll do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“Put on that nightgown you were wearing when I came into your room.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because I liked seeing you in something sexy.” Truthfully, he was thinking that her wearing it might slow him down a little. Or maybe while she was in the bathroom, she’d change her mind. He wanted to give her a chance to do that, not railroad her into bed.
The moment she exited through the connecting door, he took out a box of condoms from the bedside table. Next he dashed down the hall to the pantry, opened the refrigerator and got out a bottle of champagne, then filled an ice bucket and grabbed two flutes.
