* * *
Wes worked late into the afternoon, slaking his thirst with the pitcher of lemonade Nell had left him, wishing he felt as peaceful as the quiet afternoon warranted.
His bumps and bruises weren't more than an irritation, but there was a nagging sense of disquiet.
Again and again he revisited the image of that barn. If it hadn't been a place he and Nell had gone to play their adult games, then it must be important for some other reason.
But what?
He was feeling hot, frustrated, and tired when he felt an odd prickling sensation at the back of his neck. Someone was watching him.
He maneuvered his body around while he pounded in a nail, but he couldn't see a soul. Pretending he had to scratch his leg, he reached for the knife in his boot.
It wasn't there.
He kept a knife in his boot? He didn't like the implications of that. He didn't like even more that he no longer had it. His only weapon was the hammer he held in a vise grip.
He went back to pounding nails, but the sensation of being watched persisted.
His first instinct was to get back to the house and protect the women. But Nell had said she was taking Gertie shopping, so with luck he was alone here and just as inclined to meet whatever danger lurked at the back fence.
Even though he was expecting something, it was still a shock to see a short, weedy, furtive-looking man appear.
Wes tightened his grip on the hammer and narrowed his eyes.
The man approached stealthily, his gaze scanning the area as he came up to Wes. "Jeez you scared me. I thought you'd bought the farm."
Wes stared at him.
The nervous fellow fished out a dented pack of Marlboroughs and lit up. "Did you get it?"
"Get what?"
Wes had no idea who this man was, but he sure didn't look like he belonged to a bike gang. He looked like a down and out car salesman with too many kids. His watery blue eyes narrowed against the smoke from his cigarette. "This amnesia thing is bullshit, right?"
Wes thought about lying, but what was the point? "I wish it were."
The man shook his head as though bad news was never a surprise. "Tell me you remember where you put the stuff."
"I don't even know what stuff you're talking about. I also don't know who the hell you are or why you were spying on me before sneaking up."
The man tipped his head back and stared at the sky. His lips moved as though he were praying, which Wes doubted was his actual occupation.
"You're Wes Doman." The man cast a glance all around before leaning in and murmuring, "DEA."
"Drug enforcement? You mean I'm not in some two-bit bike gang?" No wonder he hadn't felt as though he were in the right body. It was a profound relief to discover he was one of the good guys.
"You're undercover. The gang sent you to organize a coke buy, which we were going to bust. We arrest this bunch and close down this cell; then we go back home to our lives." He waved his cigarette hopefully in the air. "Any of this sounding familiar?"
Wes shook his head.
"Great. Just great."
Wes slumped against the fence and tried to think. If he was undercover, a lot of things made sense. His hair for instance. He must be wearing this mop to blend in with the bikers. It was a relief to discover he didn't belong with guys like Louie.
And Nell. She must not know or she would have said something.
Of course, he might be an amnesiac, but he wasn't stupid. "Do you have some ID?"
With another furtive glance, and a smoky huff of irritation, his companion pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Sure enough, there was a DEA badge. Wes waited for a flicker of recognition, but nothing came. The guy's name was Harvey Brown. Didn't mean a thing to him.
In all this mess, the only person who'd seemed even vaguely familiar was Nell.
He blew out a breath. "I take it Nell doesn't know who I really am?"
The nervous man stared at him. "Nell?"
"My girlfriend. Nell Tennant."
Harvey dragged too hard on his cigarette and exploded in a hacking cough. "Buddy, you don't have a girlfriend."
Chapter Five
Wes quelled the urge to punch the lying sonofabitch in the face, but he couldn't stop his fist tightening on the hammer. "What are you saying?"
"You'd never stopped here in your life before the accident. I had a hell of a time tracking you down. Had to hang around bars and listen to farmers' gossip. Ever since you arrived here you've been hanging around with the bikers. Why would you start seeing a girl who'd make them suspicious? Doesn't make sense."
He was right. It didn't make sense. Any more than it made sense for Nell to pretend to be his girlfriend if she wasn't. It was a puzzle that needed solving. And fast.
"This coke. How much of it was there?"
"Maybe around ten kilos. They wouldn't have trusted you with more."
"And you have no idea where it is?"
"Market day was supposed to be Thursday. My guess is you stashed the dope somewhere and then planned to set up the sting. Only you had the accident before you had a chance."
"So it could be hidden anywhere."
"Yep."
"There's a guy named Louie who's pointing a gun at my back."
"Yep."
He immediately thought about his dream. That must be what it was telling him—the hiding place of the drugs. Now all he had to do was find one particular derelict barn in an area full of them.
He also had to figure out why Nell had lied to him.
* * *
Nell stacked cans of tuna fish in Gertie's pantry, trying to keep her mind on unloading the groceries and not on the delectable possibilities she'd unleashed by telling Wes of her secret fantasy.
Making love outside wasn't all that wild, but it was her fantasy and she wanted to try it out just once. Sex in the moonlight; out in the middle of a field; heck, even in the back of a parked car at a drive-in—if there were one in Harleyville, which there wasn't. She wouldn't care. All she cared about was giving in to the urge to be wild and free with Wes, her own personal rebel without a cause, easy rider, and lone wolf all rolled into one sexually explosive package.
Since he had amnesia, he couldn't be expected to think up any good places for them to try out her whim. That would be her responsibility, and she was pretty sure she was up to the task. She'd had all her adult life to dream up exciting places to seduce a sexy stranger.
Tonight's moon would be even brighter than last night's. She couldn't think of a better time to start showing Wes exactly what she had in mind.
"What are you grinning about?" Gertie asked.
"I had an idea. If I drive Wes round some of the local scenery, it might help his memory return. Don't you think?"
Gertie slapped the lid shut on a jar she'd refilled with raisins. "You be careful around him. You know what those motorcycle fellows are like. All rough and rude with their loud music and nasty loud engines and their smoking all over town and spitting on the sidewalks. He's not your kind, Missy."
And that was exactly the attraction. Nell stuck her chin out. "Maybe I'm sick of my kind. The bloodless corporate sharks who care about profit and loss and bottom lines more than they care about people."
"He's probably a criminal."
"I don't think so," Nell said thoughtfully. "He worked all afternoon, even though we left him alone for several hours. Would a criminal be so diligent?"
"Maybe, if he was locked out of the house," Gertie said with a touch of defiance.
Nell swung round, her mouth dropping. "You locked him out of the house?"
"Course I did. It was a mistake ever letting him stay here. We should have dropped him off down at that biker clubhouse they have in town. Let the rest of the motorcycle boys look after him."
Nell swallowed her argument. Gertie knew perfectly well that it was her own sidewalk vigilanteism that had deposited Wes so colorfully in their lives. When his memory did return, he could very well press charges
.
He seemed a little pale when she went to fetch him for supper and for the first time he wouldn't meet her eyes when she spoke to him. Her heart sank, realizing he'd probably overdone it and wouldn't be up to their "date." She was shocked at how disappointed she felt.
"Do you want to go straight to bed and have your supper on a tray?" she asked, lifting a hand and laying it across his forehead to check for fever.
He gripped her wrist and pulled it away, his hazel eyes burning into hers as though if he tried hard enough he could see right through to her inner thoughts.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling as though she were looking at a different person.
For the space of a couple of heartbeats he stared at her; then he grinned, that cocky grin she'd come to love in such a short time. "I hope you're not planning to chicken out on our plans for later, because I have a hankering to take you up against a barn, in a hayloft, maybe even on a boat, floating out under the stars."
A quiet hum escaped her throat as her body quivered to life at the images his words evoked. "I can't wait."
"I don't want to get boring and repeat history, though," he said, running his fingertips up her arms in a way that made her long to be already out under the stars with him. "Did we already do those things?"
"What things?" she whispered, hardly able to think for the sensations running riot in her body.
"Have I ever taken you up against a barn?" He stepped even closer, so his body was barely brushing the front of hers.
Only by squeezing her jaws together did she stop herself from whimpering with longing. "No. No barns."
"How about the hayloft?" He ran his lips up her throat and she wondered if he could feel the whimpers she was trying to suppress.
"No," she panted.
His lips traveled slowly up until he took her earlobe between his teeth and bit lightly. "How about on the water floating under the stars?" His breath against her ear sent flurries of excitement racing through her.
She shook her head.
He raised his head and his eyes were dancing with devil lights. "Well, where the hell have we been doing it?"
Maybe she should just tell him now. She'd made it up. She could explain about Doc's advice, apologize for leading him to believe things that weren't true. But then she'd never experience sex up against a barn, in a hayloft, or out on a floating boat, at least not with this man. And she wanted to do all those things and more with him.
She resolved to get Doc alone for a few minutes tomorrow and get his advice. After all, this going along with being Wes's girlfriend was his prescription. It wouldn't be right to end the charade without professional medical advice. Or at least, that was the excuse she gave herself.
She sucked it up and opened her eyes for her first actual lie to Wes. As she gazed into his strong, sexy face and caught his wickedly taunting gaze, she could have sworn he was teasing her.
She pulled out one of her fantasies. "Once, we were out in the middle of a wheat field. No one could see us; the wheat was so high that when we lay down we were invisible. But we could see the sky, so blue, and feel the sun shining down on our bodies." She had to stop for a breath, warmth suffused her chest as she pictured the two of them out there, hidden but exposed, imagined the sound of the wind shushing through the nearly ripe grain, the smell of the earth and the crops in the air, the feel of the crushed stalks like a coarse mat beneath them.
"Screwing in a wheat field, huh?"
She nodded, forcing herself not to blush.
"Just the two of us?"
"Yes!" What did he think they'd done before he lost his memory? Had orgies? Swapped partners? Sex outside was as wild as she got, and she was about to explain that in no uncertain terms when she saw the glint in his eyes. "You're teasing."
"Uh-uh. I'm making sure I get it right. I wouldn't want to screw up our secret games. We've obviously done a lot of this in the past. I don't want you to be disappointed."
"Oh, I won't be." After last night, she was certain he'd never disappoint her as a lover. She only hoped she could fake being confident and outrageous enough not to disappoint him.
Dinner was a simple, high-cholesterol affair. Gertie didn't believe in low-cal diets, she believed in hard work to keep her arteries clear. So far, it seemed to be working in spite of meals like tonight's: fried chicken, oven-fried potatoes, cornbread, and fresh peas from the garden.
It wasn't fears about her cholesterol level that had Nell picking at her food, but the nervous anticipation churning in her stomach.
It was one thing to imagine making love in the great outdoors. In the privacy of her head she could be as wild as she wanted—but in reality, there were all sorts of logistical details to fuss over. The first of these being the possibility that one of the good people of Harleyville might stumble onto the two of them cavorting around in the buff. Then there were bugs, dirt, poison ivy, animals to worry about. And the biggest detail of all—where the heck were they going to do it?
She should simply call it off. But every time she glanced up, there was Wes looking at her with barely banked fires in his eyes and that would spark her blood so she couldn't contemplate the possibility of not making love to him out in the wild—which, with his savage appearance and rugged body, seemed like his natural milieu.
"I'll do the dishes, Gertie." She jumped up the minute dinner was over.
"I'll help," Wes said and joined her at the sink.
"You don't have to do that."
"It goes quicker with two," he said, nudging her as he said it so it was clear he wanted to get on with the after-dinner entertainment in the great outdoors.
She shivered and squeezed dish soap under the running water.
The man used washing dishes as shameless foreplay. He stood too close, rubbed against her every chance he got, leaned across her instead of stepping around and generally teased her until she was so rattled she could barely stop herself from breaking all the china.
She tried to frown him down and encountered such smoldering heat in his gaze that she gulped and turned back to the sink.
"Hurry up and wash those dishes. I'm dying to get my hands on you," he said softly, rubbing his torso across her back as he reached to put a dried plate away.
"Gertie," she called to the woman who was in the next room with the television blaring, "I'm going to take Wes for a ride tonight. All right if I borrow the truck?"
"Drive careful. And don't wake me if you come in after nine."
"Okay."
She turned to find Wes leaning against the kitchen counter looking big and rugged and wonderfully male. "I'll just brush my teeth and freshen up," she said.
"I'll meet you out front."
She'd been racking her brain to think of a place where they'd be unlikely to be disturbed, but she was coming up blank.
With a shrug she decided to take a back road and see where it led. This was her fantasy and she was finally having a chance to fulfill it. She couldn't waste time being a wimp.
So she brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and tried to get in touch with her inner wild woman. She grabbed her purse and then as she thought ahead to possible scenarios, turned back to her bedroom and changed her jeans for a white denim skirt. She gnawed her lip for a second and then, with a spurt of bravery, slipped off her underwear.
Chapter Six
Nell felt like the bold and daring woman of her fantasies as her own naked thighs slid against each other. A breeze rode up her skirt and wafted over the heat in the center of her body as she hoisted herself in the driver's side of Gertie's truck.
The dusty red pickup rattled down the lane she'd chosen at random, leaving a plume of dust in its wake. Cornfields marched on either side of the road and she hoped this back lane led somewhere or she'd not only feel foolish—she'd lose her nerve.
Wes traced circles around her bare knee which didn't help either her nerves or her driving ability. She bounced over a pothole she'd planned to avoid and a stone hit the truck sounding like a b
ullet.
"I like this skirt," Wes said, as he slipped his hand beneath it.
"Thanks," she replied, hearing her own voice low and husky in reply. His hand inched higher and she tightened her hands on the wheel. Higher still, drawing idle patterns on her inner thighs that had her holding back a moan.
And finally, he worked his way up to where she was wet and hot and already open for him.
"You forgot your panties," he said in a low growl, his fingers parting her folds.
"Silly me," she gasped, sliding her legs wider apart and hitching her hips forward to give him easier access.
He eased a finger inside her, slow and deep, and she nearly ran them off the road. As they hit the gravel shoulder the truck bumped up and down, up and down, causing her body to bounce on his embedded finger. Up and down, up and down, until she thought she'd fly apart right then and there.
"I have to tell you, you are one bad driver," he said with a quiver of humor.
"If you don't take your hand away, we'll both be picking unripe corn out of our teeth."
"I knew I should have driven."
"I'm an excellent driver," she told him, groaning slightly as he pushed into her a little deeper. "Most of the time."
"What's the matter, honey? Am I making you nervous?" He pressed his palm against her pubis so she wanted to grind herself against him.
"I'm going to kill you," she whispered. "If you don't kill me first."
He chuckled softly, and she could tell he was enjoying her torment. She wanted to reach over and give him a taste of his own medicine, but she knew that if she took even one hand off the wheel she'd be in serious trouble. He seemed to sense how close she was to the edge, because, while he didn't withdraw his hand, he didn't move either so she felt like a pot about to boil over.
Would this road never end? She felt hot and quivery and she was having trouble concentrating since lust seemed to have flooded her brain, drowning out any ability to think, plan, or reason. She'd got the pair of them into this; it was her stupid fantasy; now it seemed to be turning into a nightmare before her very eyes. The road went on and on and on with nothing but dusty cornfields to the right and left.
BAD BOYS ON BOARD Page 21
