Family Secrets: Books 5-8

by Virginia Kantra

  Thats my girl.

  He hauled her closer with one arm until the knot hed made of their belts poked her stomach. And then he released her and began to climb. Her hands tightened convulsively. She felt the muscles in his thigh bunch and shift, felt the play and flex of his powerful shoulders lift and lurch, pull and rest, in a peculiarly even rhythm. One of her feet brushed the wall. His breathing rasped. Her heart thundered. Up and up.

  Dizzy, she clutched his neck and hid her face against his throat.

  Marcus set Samantha on the edge of their mattress. Her knee was bleeding. Her nails were broken. Bruises were already forming on her arms. At least the icy water had helped to keep the swelling down. But she was too damn pale and shivering like a SEAL candidate in the surf at Coronado.

  Shivering was good, he reminded himself. Shivering meant her body was still fighting hypothermia. But he hated that her face was so white and her lips nearly blue.

  Weve got to get you out of these wet clothes, he said, starting to peel her shirt from her clammy back.

  She lifted her head, nearly clipping him on the chin. That is one of the lamest excuses for getting naked I have ever heard.

  Despite his worry, he grinned. You are so tough. Like some of the guys I went through BUD/S withlittle skinny guys, not much to them. Youd swear theyd ring out the first week, you know? But they just wouldnt quit.

  Samantha held up her arms so he could wrestle her wet shirt over her head. Like your friend Jimmy, she said.

  His smile faded. He pitched her shirt into a corner and reached blindly for a towel, trying not to notice that her wet bra was totally transparent and her nipples were tight with cold. The king of smooth.

  Marcus?

  What? He shoved the towel at her and started digging in the duffel for a dry shirt and underwear.

  Does Jimmy know you brought me here?

  Hell. Marcus set his jaw. Whyd you ask?

  That first night, you mentioned something about the Robinsons daughter, Luanne. Putting two and two together

  Fear and suspicion churned his gut and made him miserable. You got five. He threw the shirt at her. You think Jimmy had something to do with uncovering the well?

  She blinked at him. Well, no, actually, I dont.

  Relief staggered him. You dont?

  No. She pulled on the underwear and the T-shirt. He couldnt lift the slab, for one thing.

  You didnt think that maybe he had God, it was hard to say help?

  It never occurred to me. Did you think?

  No!

  All right, then. She smiled.

  He felt his muscles ease. But it wasnt all right.

  Somebody removed the well cover, he insisted.

  But not Jimmy.

  No. Marcus was sure of that.

  And no one else knows were here?

  Marcus shook his head. I didnt tell anybody else.

  And we couldnt have been followed?

  No. Hed made sure of that, too.

  You must have done it yourself, then.

  No, I He stopped, a sick uncertainty in his gut.

  Samantha raised her brows.

  I dont remember, he said helplessly.

  Well, after you disinfected the water, did you put the cover back on?

  He did. He was almost sure he did. Why didnt he remember? But every time he tried to recall the precise sequence of events, his mind went blank. It worried him.

  But Samantha still shook with cold, and that worried him more.

  Hey. Alarmed, he pulled back the covers. Youve got to get in bed. Warm up.

  She smiled slightly. If youre trying to seduce me, Lieutenant, your technique needs work. Besides, it must be eighty degrees outside.

  Which is borderline in preventing further heat loss in hypothermia patients.

  She slid her legslong legs, smooth thighs, oh, manunder the covers. Now youre a medic?

  All SEALs have medical field training. Im no expert, but I froze my butt off enough during Hell Week to pick up the basics on hypothermia. You need a warm environment, mild exercise and hot fluids.

  She pulled the quilt around her shoulders. How about a hot shower?

  He shook his head regretfully. Not until the sediment in the well settles.

  Her eyes rounded in dismay. I never even thought of that. How long will it take?

  End of the day, maybe. You can have your shower tonight.

  She nodded, the covers pulled to her chin. Her hair was wet and stringy, she had no makeup on, and he still got hard imagining her naked, pink and slippery in the shower.

  He cleared his throat. You want some tea?

  Tea would be wonderful. Thank you, Marcus.

  Her voice was warm. Her gaze was perfectly sincere. And all he could think was that if he hadnt brought her here, she never would have fallen down the damn well.

  Its nothing, he said, guilt roughening his voice. Ill get that tea for you.

  He escaped downstairs and hovered by the stove, his thoughts hissing and simmering like the water in the kettle.

  He had to trust Jimmy. Had to. The XO was his other self, his better-than-a-brother. There was simply no way his swim buddy had given up their hiding place.

  Marcus scowled at the thick china cup that held the tea bag. But somebody had shifted that slab. Which meantWhich meantDamn it, he must have forgotten to put the well cover back on yesterday. He didntcouldntremember. But what other explanation was there?

  He was responsible. It was his fault Samantha had nearly died.

  The thought made him sweat. Hed almost failedhis mission, himself, her.

  The quicker he got her back to Washington, the better.

  But when he switched on his computer and accessed Baxters secure Web site, there were no instructions and no change, only the silly little animated man in green running around against a childish backdrop. The queen did not like him, no more did the king.

  Disgusted, Marcus shut down the laptop and went to pour Samanthas tea. He added two spoonfuls of sugarshe might complain of the taste, but she needed calories as well as fluidsand carried the hot mug carefully upstairs.

  She was asleep.

  He stood in the doorway watching her, feeling his heart get too big for his chest. Her lashes looked really long and dark against her pale cheeks. Her arm was tucked under the pillow at her head. She lay on her side, her knees drawn up to her body. Even in the warmth of the day, with the quilt pulled over her shoulders, she looked cold.

  Marcus set the hot mug on the dresser. In rescue situations, a hypothermic patient could be zipped into a sleeping bag in contact with another, warmer body. It was a last resort, since the warm body involved tended to get pretty cold.

  He looked again at the round shape huddled under the covers.

  Somehow he didnt think contact with Samantha was going to make him cold. And if it didwell, it was worth sacrificing his body to the cause.

/>   On the other hand, he didnt want her to think he was taking advantage of the situation. So after he unlaced his boots and undid the top button of his jeans for comfort, he crawled fully dressed into bed with her and pulled her into the curve of his body.

  Her bottom, in thin, cotton panties, felt lush and firm and alarmingly cool. Her damp hair smelled faintly of minerals. He put his arm around her waist, tucking her closer, and tried not to think what hed do if he lost her.

  Hed lost her.

  He paddled furiously, searching the waves and the floating wreckage for his sisters small, dark head, fighting panic. Where was she?

  But he knew. She was down there. Under the water.

  It was his job to look after her.

  He took a really deep breath and dived. When he wanted to, he could stay under a long time. Mark the shark, their mother called him. Mark the seal.

  He swam back until he found the cold edge of the current that had caught him after the explosion. Only this time he let it take him, let it carry him to his sister.

  Up. Breathe. Down. Search.

  He was strong, but he was already growing tired. His lungs burned. His eyes stung. He forced himself to kick harder, to stay down longer. His sister wasnt strong. She needed him.

  There!

  Hope hurt his chest. She was there, below him, her skinny arms lifted in the water, her black hair floating around her white face like seaweed. His sister. His twin.

  His heart beat about a million times a minute as he kicked toward her. Was she moving?

  Was she dead?

  Marcus. Her voice was soft and sure. Her touch was gentle. Soothing. Youre having a bad dream. Wake up.

  His heart was beating a million times a minute. His fists were clenched in the sheets, and he wasOh, hell, he was crying. What a loser.

  Marcus sat up in bed and dragged his hands over his face.

  When he dropped his hands, Samantha was watching him with grave, sympathetic eyes. Despite the pain she must feel, all her concern was for him. Are you all right? she asked.

  You shouldnt do that, he told her harshly. Wake me like that. I could God, this was humiliating. I could get violent.

  She arched her eyebrows. Im terrified.

  No, really, he insisted. I almost killed some guy in BUD/S when he woke me up from a nightmare.

  Well, youre not going to kill me, she said positively. This is the second time Ive had to wake you, and all you do is get huffy and defensive.

  He felt some of the tension ease from his muscles. Thanks a lot. I think.

  Her dimples appeared. Youre welcome. Her hand, with its broken nails, stroked his arm. Have you ever spoken with a doctor about your dreams?

  You mean, a shrink? He shook his head, rejecting even the idea. No. My father

  Your father? she prompted.

  Marcus stared at her, a muscle working in his jaw. This was it, he realized. The big moment in their relationship, if they were going to have one. Truth or consequences. Sink or swim. Fish or cut bait.

  I cant be intimate with a man who refuses to share himself with me.

  He said my nightmares were nothing to worry about. A natural response to trauma, he said. The explanation hadnt done a lot to soothe a freaked out and frightened boy living with unfamiliar parents in a strange house.

  It didnt seem to satisfy Samantha, either. What trauma? she asked.

  I was in asome kind of accident, I think, when I was ten. A car crash, they told me.

  Except he didnt remember a car. Only the boat. And the water.

  Samantha opened her lips.

  I dont really remember, he added before she could ask. He drew in a deep breath. Okay. Let her know now what she was getting into by becoming involved with him. Or rather, let her know that she could never know. Because

  I dont remember anything before that, either, he confessed.

  Samanthas eyes narrowed. You dont remember?

  Anything, he repeated. Im a complete zero before the age of ten. The old man said my mind was repressing my memories as a way of protecting me.

  Protecting you from what?

  Her questions jabbed at an old sore. But the pain Marcus felt now was nothing compared to the hurt he was going to feel after he told her the whole truth and she rejected him. Maybe the only way to deal with it was to get it over with quickly. Like ripping off a bandage instead of peeling it back one painful inch at a time.

  Thats just it. I dont know.

  What did your parents tell you?

  They didnt like to talk about it. Which was true, as far as it went, but the sad fact was that the Evanses didnt know much more than Marcus did. He would have to come clean about the adoption bit. But he wanted to get over the worst part first.

  He exhaled, not looking at her. Do it. Quickly. I always figured I must have done something pretty damn bad to wipe out my entire childhood.

  He waited for her to say, Gee, thats sad, and by the way, would you please get away from me? And that was when he knew.

  Her opinion mattered too much. She mattered too much.

  He felt too lousy for this to be anything but love.

  Thats the most ridiculous thing I ever heard in my life, Samantha said. And let me tell you, as someone who has attended far too many diplomatic dinners, Ive heard some amazingly ridiculous things.

  It was so not the response he was expecting that he gaped at her.

  Its not ridiculous, he said. I read up on it some. Dissociative retrograde amnesia occurs when you really dont want to remember something.

  Samantha could picture it too clearly. Marcus as a confused little boy, as a determined young man, seeking clues to the gaps in his identity by searching medical textbooks and scholarly articles. The image moved her to admirationand nearly reduced her to tears.

  Amnesia usually occurs in cases of abuse, she said gently. Not when you do something bad. When something bad is done to you.

  His beautiful blue eyes met hers, and the uncertainty she saw there tore at her own heart.

  The key word is usually, babe. We dont really know. Because I cant remember.

  I know. Your basic nature doesnt change from the time youre two. Your moral character is formed by the age of seven. I think, she said slowly, that you are one of the nicest, kindest, most decent men I have ever met. If you werent, Id never do what Im about to do.

  He didnt move, but she felt the tension that seized his big body. What are you going to do?

  Well, for starters She leaned forward across the crumpled quilt, careful not to rest her weight on her injured knee, and took his perfectly chiseled jaw between her hands. This.

  And she kissed him.

  Twelve

  M arcus couldnt believe it.

  It was like a fantasy come true. Red-haired, hot Ambassador Samantha Barnes was kissing him, her mout
h warm and seeking on his, her hands cool and seeking on his back, under his T-shirt. And they were on a bed. She was nearly naked and clearly willing, and he was so taken aback that for, oh, at least five seconds or so he didnt know what to do.

  She kissed him again, a hello, sailor kind of kiss, deep and wet and explicit, and his body surged and his brain woke up enough to issue orders.

  Kiss her back, moron. Before she changes her mind.

  He kissed her back, giving it everything he had. Giving her everything he was.

  And maybe she wasnt planning on changing her mind, after all, because she made this little sound deep in her throat as if she liked what he was doing. As if she loved what he was doing. It was the biggest turn-on.

  She slid one of her hands from his back along his waist, still under his shirt, against his skin. And thenoh, man, it went beyond fantasy and into some five-star, X-rated dream. She just went for it. She touched him, cupped him, right through his jeans. He nearly shot off the bed.

  Whoa. It felt so good. Too good. He was going to lose it. How about we slow down here, babe?

  Her busy fingers stroked and shaped him. Why?

  She tugged at his zipper and slipped her hand inside. His eyes nearly crossed.

  I dont want to hurt you, he said.

  She laughed. She actually laughed. Releasing him, she stripped her T-shirt over her head. He stared, riveted by her full, pink-tipped, perfect breasts.

  You can try, she said, and reached for him again.

  After that he went a little crazy. She cooperated all the way, helping him get rid of his clothes, kicking off her own panties, touching, kissing, licking and rubbing him until they went down in a tangle of sheets and arms and legs.

  He couldnt wait to fill his hands with her smooth flesh, couldnt wait to fill her with his body. She was all lush curves and soft skin. He touched her and almost groaned. She was warm and slick with wanting him. Her legs opened, her head dropped back. She watched with shining, half-closed eyes as he fell on top of her and