* * *
Jarrett tapped on his niece’s half-open bedroom door.
“Come in,” she called.
He entered and found Anna Jane sitting up in bed, reading. He glanced at his watch. “Don’t you have a bedtime?”
She smiled. “Yes, and it’s nearly an hour past it. Are you here to tell me to turn out the light?”
“I’m here to tuck you in.”
“Really?”
Her smile widened with pleasure, and Jarrett’s guilt returned. It was a simple task. One he’d promised himself he would perform faithfully. But time had a way of speeding past. Three times in the past week he’d looked up and found it was already near midnight. He’d come to the girl’s room, but she had been asleep.
As she lay back on the bed, he took the book from her and looked at the spine. The story was about a boy and his horse. Jarrett remembered the tale from his own childhood.
“I read this one,” he said. “It’s good.”
“I’ve read it, too. I liked the series so much I’m reading it again.”
As he smoothed the covers over her, he noticed the neat stack of boxes in the corner. Unopened board games commingled with puzzles, dolls and an elaborate kit to make plastic jewelry.
“You don’t like your toys?” he asked.
Her brown eyes, so much like his sister’s, glanced away. “They’re very nice. Thank you for getting them for me.”
“But?”
She sighed. “It’s not fun playing with all that stuff by myself.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. Her fingers were small, the nails clean and neatly trimmed. What kind of life was this for her? he wondered.
“I’m sorry, Anna Jane. I should have thought of that.”
“You’re very busy. I’m an unexpected responsibility.”
She said the words easily, as if she’d heard them many times before. Who had been saying them to her? Not him. Her mother? The nanny she’d had after Nana B. had retired?
“You’re not a responsibility, you’re my niece. I should have picked out better toys.”
“They would be fun with someone to play with. Maybe Ariel could stay and take care of me until she remembers who she is.”
He was careful to keep his hold on her hand relaxed, even though every muscle in his body tightened in protest. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? He’d heard the easy conversation between them, had seen the way Ariel had comforted her when they’d talked of her mother’s death. It made perfect sense.
“Ariel has her own life,” he said. “There are people who miss her.”
“What if there aren’t? No one has found her family yet, have they?”
“No, but—”
“Why can’t she stay here until they do? I’ll keep her out of the way, Uncle Jarrett. You won’t even know she’s here.”
Despite his irritation at the thought, he had to smile. He touched Anna Jane’s soft cheek. “That’s logic you use to keep a puppy, not a grown woman.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I still thought it might work. Please?”
Ariel stay here? Could he stand it? He wanted her gone. If not for John’s request that she not be moved, he would have had her taken back to the hotel after dinner. While a part of him was willing to admit there was a tiny possibility she might not be faking her amnesia, the rest of him didn’t care. Either way, she was trouble.
“I’ll think about it,” he said at last.
Anna Jane sighed. “What kind of ‘I’ll think about it’ do you mean?”
“What?”
“When Mama said she would think about it, she meant no. Nana B. meant she really would think about it. Which one do you mean?”
Jarrett bent and kissed her forehead. “I mean I’ll consider your request. But if Ariel stays, you have to feed her and take her for walks every day. And make sure she doesn’t chew on my shoes.”
Anna Jane giggled. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, he wondered what he’d done to deserve her affection.
Chapter Four
Ariel looked out the window at the bright morning light. She was sick of staring into the mirror and trying to find something familiar. She’d spent more than an hour last night looking at her face from different angles, trying to catch a glimpse of something that might spark a memory. Instead all she’d generated was a massive headache and a feeling of desolation that had yet to go away.
Amnesia played well in the movies, but in real life it was very frightening to have one’s past disappear.
She glanced at the clock and frowned. It was nearly eight-thirty. In another half hour she would go downstairs and be returned to the hotel. If that’s where she’d come from. Her discomfort wasn’t from the thought of leaving. Jarrett had made it quite clear she wasn’t welcome here and, under the circumstances, she was pleased to be leaving. What upset her was there was still no news. She’d been so sure she would wake up to remember who she was. Barring that, she’d been certain Leona would deliver good news with breakfast. Parents who were distraught over her absence. A sibling or two who’d been frantic all night. A worried boyfriend.
She grimaced at the last thought, somehow knowing no boyfriend or husband had a place in her life right now. But she wouldn’t mind a sister or two.
Ariel turned to the bed. Leona had insisted she keep the resort wear she’d brought the previous afternoon. Ariel hadn’t asked about it, assuming Jarrett kept a supply on hand for whatever company he might have visiting him. Although, judging from their conversation last night, he really wasn’t the type to do much entertaining.
She bent and fingered the sundress she’d worn to dinner. It was pretty but seemed a little dressy for daytime. She pushed it aside in favor of shorts and a T-shirt in bright rosé.
Clothing decided, she turned reluctantly to the mirror and stared at her hair. It lay in loose waves over her shoulders. The layered style suggested she’d had it trimmed recently. Familiar actions tugged at the edges of her memory, as if she was supposed to do something with her hair. But what?
She pulled out the small chair in front of the vanity and sank down. What was the routine she performed every morning without thinking? How did her hands move, her fingers twist and bend and secure while she planned the day ahead?
Trying not to focus too much, she reached for a hairbrush and closed her eyes. Maybe if she cleared her mind, her body would take over. She allowed herself to relax as she thought about what she would like to eat for breakfast. Maybe cereal with fruit, or some toast.
But the brush didn’t feel familiar in her hand and she got caught up in trying to remember what she usually ate in the morning. She tossed the brush down and reached behind to pull her hair into a ponytail.
Instead her fingers began pulling sections of hair apart, then weaving them in a swift series of complex moves. Ariel held her breath as she quickly finished a perfect French braid. She wasn’t sure which excited her more. The fact that she could do the braid or that she knew what it was called.
She stood and turned so she could admire her handiwork from the rear. There was a knock on her closed bedroom door. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened and Jarrett stepped inside. Ariel belatedly realized she was dressed in only a towel and lunged for her borrowed robe lying across the foot of the bed. She wrapped it around her hastily and tightened the belt.
“You could have announced yourself,” she said, fighting embarrassment.
“I knocked.”
“I know, but I thought it was Anna Jane or Leona.”
“Perhaps you should have asked instead of assuming.”
“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
He filled her doorway. Perhaps in deference to the fact that he worked on a tropical island, Jarrett didn’t wear a suit or tie. Instead he wore a red polo shirt tucked into worn jeans. She could see the muscle definition of his arms and chest under the smooth material.
She jerked her mind awa
y from his masculine presence and reminded herself this wasn’t a social call. Last night Jarrett had made his opinion of her very clear. His words still stung.
“Come in,” she said, motioning to the chair in front of the vanity. “I’ll just be a second.”
She scooped up the shorts and T-shirt she’d picked out earlier and headed for the bathroom.
As she dressed quickly she consoled herself with the thought that she’d found another piece of her personality. She’d been embarrassed that Jarrett had caught her wearing a towel, so she was modest and definitely not promiscuous. Thank goodness. She wished she could share her observation, but Jarrett didn’t strike her as the kind of person who had much of a sense of humor.
The thought made her smile, and her lips were still curved up when she opened the bathroom door. Jarrett’s neutral expression squashed her amusement like an empty peanut shell. She squared her shoulders and glanced at the clock radio on the nightstand.
“If you’re here to make sure I’m downstairs in time to meet your driver, you don’t have to worry. I have no intention of being late.”
“Not at all,” he said, and nodded at the bed. “Please sit down.”
She perched on the edge of the mattress and placed her hands in her lap. If he wanted to play at being socially correct, she could do the same.
When she was settled, he drew in a breath. “I’ve spoken to my manager at the hotel. Despite the fact that we were all hoping family members would come forward to report you missing, no one has.”
He continued talking, but Ariel didn’t hear him. She couldn’t. She focused on that single sentence, those cold words that cut her adrift from her hopes and left her floundering for support.
“No one?” she asked, interrupting him. “No one has reported me missing?”
“No.”
It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. How could she be all alone in the world? It wasn’t right. “No one wants me,” she whispered, more to herself than him.
Jarrett cleared his throat. “I’m sure you have family. Just not here, at the resort.”
She wanted to ask how he was sure. He couldn’t be. He was just trying to say the right thing. Not to be kind, but so she wouldn’t get hysterical or cause him any more trouble. If he even believed her at all. Along with this latest batch of bad news, she was still reeling from his assumption she was faking her condition in order to get close to him. Why would any woman try such a desperate tactic on a man like him?
She couldn’t think about that now, she told herself. What was important was finding her life. “My room,” she said as she received a burst of inspiration. “I haven’t been in my room. The housekeeping staff only has to look for a room that hasn’t been slept in.”
“I wish it was that simple.” He leaned back on the small chair and rested one ankle on the opposite knee. “Because of the location of St. Alicia, not to mention the limited amenities, many of our guests make trips to other islands. An unused bed isn’t that unusual around here.”
“What about the other—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “I’ve already sent word to the other islands,” he said. “News about you will travel quickly. If you have family or friends on the other islands, they’ll be able to get in touch with you here. It shouldn’t take long. Not many women travel alone this time of year. Someone will report you missing.”
The thought of other islands gave her a little hope, but in her gut she felt she’d only been on St. Alicia. Some shadow of the past flirted with her consciousness enough to make her certain of that. The same shadow offered comfort in the form of almost memories of someone, somewhere, caring about her. Despite the fact that no one was looking for her, she wasn’t convinced she was completely alone. Then the rest of what he’d said sank in.
“What do you mean by ‘this time of year’?”
“Christmas is in less than two weeks,” he said.
She felt her mouth drop open, and she closed it. “You’re kidding.”
“No.”
Christmas? Without family? It was too horrible to consider. “I had no idea.”
“If you’ve lost your memory, that makes sense.”
She wasn’t sure if he was simply making conversation or getting in a dig, and she decided not to try to figure it out. “I sure couldn’t tell from your house.”
He frowned, dark eyebrows pulling together. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Judging from the lack of decorations, it could be mid-April. What about wreaths and a tree? Maybe even some presents?”
“I don’t bother with that kind of thing.”
How sad, she thought. Even though he thought the worst of her and had flat-out told her so to her face, she couldn’t escape the wave of compassion that swept through her. How could someone not bother with the holidays? They were a time for sharing. But Jarrett was the kind of man who probably shared as easily as he trusted.
She looked at him. That handsome face and tempting masculine body all wrapped around a cynical heart and a soul of ice. The beautiful package was a waste.
“It’s not just you anymore,” she said. “You have Anna Jane to think about. Jarrett, she needs this Christmas. Despite her mother’s death, or maybe because of it, she has to know that her world is still going to go on. Being without her mother is going to make this Christmas awful for her, and you have to be prepared for that. She needs you to be there for her.”
His gaze narrowed. “What makes you an expert?”
She paused. “I’m not sure, but I know what I’m talking about.” Did he think she was making this up, too? “No matter what you think of me, please don’t discount what I’ve said. I don’t mean to be rude or anything, although based on what you said to me last night, I suppose I have the right, but you don’t know your niece very well. She hasn’t been here that long and she needs you to spend time with her. Only a very lonely child would go to all the trouble to send a note in a bottle.”
“I don’t dispute the fact that this has been difficult for Anna Jane.”
And for you, too, she thought suddenly. Losing his sister and inheriting a child would have upset even someone as contained and controlled as this man.
“How well do you know her?” she asked.
“I’ve met her a few times.”
“But no regular contact?”
“No.”
Ariel sighed. “That’s tough for both of you.” She scooted forward, leaning toward him. “Jarrett, she’s just a scared little girl. Right now she needs stability and love more than anything.”
“Again, I ask what makes you an expert?”
“I don’t know. But I’m as sure of this as I am—” She stopped in midsentence. “Well, I’m just sure.”
He didn’t want to believe her. She could see the battle being waged inside him. He didn’t like or trust her, yet he recognized the truth of her words and couldn’t bring himself to discount her. At least she had to give him credit for caring about his niece.
Who was he, this dark, mysterious man who didn’t know how to talk to a little girl? What events had made him so aloof and forced him to live in this place so far from the mainstream of life? Why was she foolish enough to be attracted to someone who wanted nothing to do with her?
“I’m going to assume from the conversation we had last night that you’re not married,” she said.
A raised eyebrow was his only response.
“I’ll take that as a no. Too bad. A wife would have made things easier for Anna Jane.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Any husbands lurking in the background?”
“No.” Certainty made her speak without thinking. She rosé to her feet. “No. I’m not married.”
“What makes you so sure?”
She paced to the window, then turned back to him. “I know I’m not married. I mean, I know it. This is information about my life. Ask me another question. About anything.”
“Any foreign languages?”
&nbs
p; A part of her was surprised he was willing to play along. A part of her responded with the correct information. “Spanish, but not well.”
“Did you go to college?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
She searched her mind. “I don’t know.”
“Are you an only child?”
“No.”
“Brothers and sisters?”
Again, the frustrating grayness of a memory that wouldn’t cooperate. “Maybe. Yes.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Are your parents alive?”
A sharp pain cut through her chest. She caught her breath. What did that mean? Pain at their passing, or pain for a separation caused by misunderstandings? “I don’t know.”
He tried a couple more questions before she stopped him.
“It’s gone,” she said. “Whatever I was in touch with is gone.” She faced the window and clutched the sill. “I just want myself back. Why is that so difficult?”
Jarrett didn’t answer. Actually, Ariel hadn’t expected him to. After all, he thought this was all some kind of performance on her part. Frustration filled her.
“I’m not kidding,” she went on, focusing on the incredible view of beach and sapphire blue ocean. “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. It’s horrible, this feeling of being out in space without an anchor. I could be anyone. It’s terrifying. What if I don’t like who I am?” She laughed without humor. “Don’t answer that one. I already know your opinion of me.”
He didn’t say anything and she thought he might have left the room. Then the skin on the back of her neck prickled and she knew he was still there, still watching her. No doubt thinking that she deserved an award for her acting ability. Damn the man.
“I’d better go downstairs and wait for your driver,” she said, moving to the dresser where she’d left her shorts and bathing suit. They were the only clothes she’d been wearing the previous day. Anything else she’d had with her had been washed out to sea.
“What are you going to do at the hotel?”
She looked at him, trying to read something into the question. “Are you reminding me I have no identification and no credit cards?”
The Mysterious Stranger (Triple Trouble) Page 5
