Broken

by Cynthia Eden

  Surprise flashed over Eve’s face. “You . . . you knew?”

  “We didn’t have secrets.”

  Jealousy ate at Gabe. This was what he’d feared. That there was someone else out there, someone waiting for Eve. Someone that she loved.

  He’d wanted her so much the night before. So much that need and lust had clawed right through his control. If Wade and Pierce hadn’t interrupted, there would have been no going back.

  Part of him wondered if it was already too late.

  I don’t want to give her up.

  “I don’t have DNA samples,” Trey said. “No possessions. But I can prove in five seconds if you’re Jessica Montgomery.”

  Gabe knew he wasn’t going to like where this was going.

  “How?” Eve asked.

  Trey smiled at her. “Easy, sweetheart. All you have to do is strip.”

  Gabe lunged for him.

  “Hold up!” Trey’s hip rammed into the desk as he backed away from Gabe. “Jesus, man, calm down! I didn’t say she had to strip for me!” He motioned toward the door on his right. “There’s a bathroom in there! She can change and use the mirror to check herself.”

  But Eve shook her head. “Check myself? Look, I don’t have any tattoos. My scars are all . . . fresh. The doctor said—”

  “No, shit, of course, you don’t have tattoos. You went to get one on your eighteenth birthday and you passed out when you saw me get mine.” He jerked up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a dark, sculpted anchor tattoo that rose from about two inches above his wrist to just under his elbow. “You were supposed to get a dolphin on your back. Only you hit the floor when the needle hit me, and when you woke up, you ran from that needle.”

  Trey spoke with an easy familiarity. I know all of your secrets. They’d come to Dauphin Island hoping someone would shed light on Eve’s past. Gabe just hadn’t expected the riot of anger and jealousy to hit him.

  I want to know her secrets. He wanted to have the easy familiarity with her.

  Why the hell am I jealous? Eve needed to get her life back. She needed her memories, and if this guy could help her . . . then I have to step the fuck off.

  Eve should be happy. Whole.

  Gabe took a step back.

  “Check your left upper thigh,” Trey told her quietly. “You’ve got three small moles there. Or, hell, maybe they’re freckles, but they are there. Flat, smooth. And they form a triangle.” His breath heaved out. “I’ve seen them plenty of times.”

  Gabe hated the guy. Get it together, Spencer. This is Eve’s life. If the police chief can help her . . .

  “And you’ve got another one of those little moles right on your pinky toe.” Trey laughed, the sound low and intimate. “Cutest little damn thing I ever saw—”

  She has those marks. Gabe had seen her feet. And when he’d had her under him in that bed, he’d seen the little freckles on her thigh. He had kissed them.

  “But you want some concrete evidence, is that it? The marks aren’t enough?” Trey cocked his head. “Well, Jessica never had braces, and her dentist—hell, that guy retired years ago and I doubt you’d be able to find any dental records, so good luck with that.”

  He needed more than luck. It’s no coincidence that she and Jessica have those same freckles, in the exact same spots. Gabe didn’t think Eve was trying to con anyone. He thought that she was Jessica Montgomery, a woman who’d escaped from a killer.

  But he’d realized that it didn’t really matter what he thought. It was what she thought that mattered, and he didn’t think she’d accept her identity as Jessica, not until her memories were back.

  That is why we’re on this island. To get those memories back.

  Eve was standing there, her eyes huge, her body trembling faintly. She looked far too fragile right then, and he wasn’t sure that she was up to any more big revelations right at that moment.

  She’d been attacked the night before. She was too raw, and he was far too ready to kick the ass of anyone who even looked at her sideways. Like that feeling is normal. His protective instincts were in overdrive where Eve was concerned.

  Gabe wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I think we need to head to the condo.”

  She nodded.

  They turned for the door.

  “I’m telling the truth. I knew it when I kissed you. I knew it when I saw you,” Trey called after them. “Things might have ended between us, but you know I’ll always care about you. You can trust me.”

  Things might have ended.

  Yes, that had been in the report his employees had created. Jessica and Trey had broken up several weeks before her disappearance, but Pierce had acted as if they were still together. Gabe needed to understand exactly what had occurred between the two of them. And if Jessica still loved the cop. He looked back at Trey. “You and Jessica Montgomery were involved.”

  “Obviously,” Trey muttered.

  Eve was stiff at Gabe’s side. “Who broke it off?” she asked.

  Trey hesitated, but then he replied, “You did. Said we were always better friends than lovers, and that it was time for a change.” He put his hands on his hips. “You know how folks say you don’t realize what you’ve got until it’s gone?”

  He was closing in on Eve again.

  “The last few months have been hell.” Emotion roughened Trey’s voice. “When you were gone, I learned what my real priorities were fast.”

  Eve edged closer to Gabe.

  Her hand brushed his arm.

  And for some reason, his anger eased. The tension he’d felt, the jealousy, receded. He could breathe without wanting to drive his fist at the cop.

  “I’ll do everything I can to help you,” Trey told her softly, but Gabe saw that the man’s hands were clenched into fists. “Because I won’t lose you from my life again.”

  SHE NEEDED TO breathe. Only it felt as if her lungs were filled with water and she was drowning, choking on nothing.

  “Eve?”

  They were in the condo. And, jeez, but she hadn’t expected it. She should have, though, considering how much money the Montgomery family seemed to have.

  First off, it wasn’t just a condo. It was a penthouse . . . one that would have given Gabe’s place in Atlanta a run for his money. It was a gorgeous, insane place filled with furniture that she didn’t recognize. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows wrapped around the penthouse, giving her nonstop views of the island. On one side she could see the Gulf of Mexico’s waves hitting the sandy white beaches. On the other side she could see the gleaming inlets on the bay side of the island.

  So much beauty.

  And I can’t breathe.

  She rushed for the balcony. Shoved open the doors. The wind brushing over the ocean waves hit her, and she sucked in a deep breath.

  I’m Jessica. I’m Jessica.

  She heard the faint tread of Gabe’s footsteps behind her. Then his hands curled over her shoulders. “You remembered him,” Gabe said, voice quiet, barely carrying over the crash of the surf.

  Eve shook her head. “But he remembered me.” The man had been no more than a stranger to her, but he’d known her body. She had those freckles on her. On her upper thigh. On her foot. There was no way for Trey Wallace to know that unless . . . “I’m Jessica.”

  She was supposed to feel better now. She had a past. A family. But instead of feeling better, she was terrified.

  Jessica was hunted. Jessica was tortured. Jessica was left for dead.

  “I’m Jessica,” she said again as she turned in his hold. Her back brushed against the edge of the balcony. They were on the seventh floor of that condo complex, the highest building on the island, and they were totally alone up there. She should have felt safe.

  She didn’t.

  “I’m Jessica Montgomery, and the man who tried to kill me is out there.” She was convinced that the Lady Killer was the man who’d attacked her in Atlanta. Was he going to follow her back to Dauphin Island, too? The part that scared her the most
. . . “I don’t know who he is. He could come right up to me, and I. Wouldn’t. Know.” Terror clawed at her. How was she supposed to trust anyone that she met? She could be staring straight at a killer and she wouldn’t know it.

  His hands rose as he cupped her chin. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

  That was so easy to say. “I’ve been afraid of him since the moment I opened my eyes in that hospital. I was afraid, and I didn’t even know why.” Trey had just confirmed her identity. A cop—a police chief!—had said she was Jessica Montgomery. So where was the relief? Where was the—dammit, the feeling of something other than the fear? The gnawing in her gut that wouldn’t stop? She’d expected more. “He knew me, and it changed nothing.”

  Gabe gave a hard, negative shake of his head. “I’ll call Pierce. I’ll tell him about Trey—”

  “We were lovers.”

  Gabe’s nostrils flared. “Trey was involved with Jessica.”

  “I’m Jessica!” Even though the woman felt like a total stranger. Too rich, too beautiful, too perfect Jessica—who’d been taken by a killer. Tortured. Murdered.

  No, Jessica survived . . .

  “He knew me.” She was absolutely certain about this. “I could feel it in the way Trey touched me. The way he looked at me.” Too intimate.

  Gabe’s hand fell away from her.

  “He wanted me to remember him, but I couldn’t.” I’ll always care about you. Trey’s words echoed in her mind. “And when he touched me, the only thing I felt . . . it was fear.”

  Gabe’s brows slanted down. “He scared you?”

  He terrified me. “I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t want Ben Tyler touching me. I only want you.”

  But he backed away.

  The surf kept pounding below.

  “Trey said that he and Jessica—that he and I were done,” she fumbled, trying to make sense even as her mind seemed to splinter on her. I’m not Eve, I’m Jessica! But Jessica was still a stranger. No, worse, she seemed like a ghost. “If I’m not involved with Trey, then that means there isn’t some lover in the background for me. There’s no one waiting—”

  “Eve . . .”

  “You’re the man I want, Gabe. Only you.” And he was just standing there. She needed him to say something. Too much was happening inside of her. Emotions were gutting her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rage. She wanted—

  Him.

  Eve surged forward. She grabbed his shirt, fisting it in her hands, and she rose onto her tiptoes. Then she kissed him. Wild. Hard. Hot.

  She kissed him.

  She knew it was too late to turn back. Too late to let go.

  It was too late for them both.

  HE COULD SEE them, up on that balcony. With his binoculars, he had a perfect view of them. But then, he’d always had a perfect view. He could see her clearly—every moment. Always.

  He’d made certain of that.

  She was kissing Gabe Spencer. Wrapping her arms around him. Holding onto the man as if her very life depended on him.

  But it didn’t.

  Your life depends on me. You can’t forget that, not like you’ve forgotten everything else.

  Gabe’s arms locked around her.

  You should have pushed her away, asshole.

  But Gabe was taking her back in the penthouse. He was going to fuck her.

  When they vanished from that balcony, he jerked down his binoculars, swearing. You can’t have her. You—

  “Uh, excuse me?”

  A woman’s voice. Soft, one tinted lightly with what sounded like a drawling Texas accent.

  “Could you possibly help me?”

  His teeth locked as he turned toward her.

  But then he saw her. The light shone off her blond hair. She’d perched a pair of sunglasses on the top of her head, and her eyes, hesitant, hopeful, met his.

  Her eyes were green.

  Not that perfect, deep green of Jessica’s, but close enough.

  Close enough . . .

  They always were.

  Oh, you just might work wonderfully . . . The tool he’d needed had just walked right up to him.

  “I heard there was a lighthouse around here,” she said, waving her hand. The light caught the expensive diamond tennis bracelet that she wore. “How do I get there? I mean, where—”

  He caught her wrist in his hand. You shouldn’t wear jewelry like that. Not in the water. It just attracts predators . . .

  Sometimes, you didn’t see the predators until it was too late.

  She looked at his hand, then back up at him. She smiled, a bit nervously, a bit flirtatiously.

  He was handsome, he knew it. His looks made things easier. The women didn’t hesitate when they were approached by a handsome man. Not the women he hunted. Women used to using their own looks to get what they wanted.

  “I’m afraid you have to travel by boat in order to reach the lighthouse. It’s about a forty-minute boat drive.” He gave her a smile. “There’s a lighthouse tour that leaves from the main marina each day, but I think you missed that boat. I saw it head out about twenty minutes ago.”

  “Oh.” Her plump lips curled down in a pout.

  His gaze slid over her. She wore a white bikini, and a wraparound skirt that twisted into a tie at her hip. She was slim, but curved in all the right places.

  And the blonde looked as if she were the right age . . .

  “You vacationing down here alone?” he asked her, keeping his voice light.

  “Alexa!”

  She jerked at the call, glancing over her shoulder. “No, my best friend and I are on a getaway.”

  And the best friend was closing in. A pretty redhead with blue eyes.

  Not my type.

  But Alexa . . . she had potential. He’d have to do a little research on her and make sure she was just right.

  “Maybe I can give you a ride out to that lighthouse sometime,” he offered, letting his fingers trail lightly over her wrist.

  He felt her pulse jump beneath his touch.

  “I’ve got a thirty-foot boat that I think you’d love . . .”

  “Alexa?” The best friend was coming closer. She hadn’t spotted him yet. That was good. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see him with the lovely Alexa. Not if he decided to use her.

  He dropped Alexa’s wrist and pushed his sunglasses onto his nose. “Where are you going to be tonight?”

  Her smile spread. She thought he was interested, and she was loving the attention. One of her shoulders rolled in a light shrug. “I heard there was a band playing on the West End of the island. I thought I’d check them out.”

  Perfect. That would give him plenty of time to learn more about her. With his resources, he’d know everything necessary about her within a few hours. “I’ll see you then.” He eased away from her. “And maybe later I can give you that ride . . .”

  A ride she’d never forget.

  The last ride of her life.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HE SHOULD GET HIS HANDS OFF HER.

  But he was holding her too tightly.

  He shouldn’t be kissing her.

  But Gabe couldn’t get enough of her taste.

  And they were in the bedroom. A big four-poster bed waited for them. They were alone. She’s not involved with the cop.

  She wants me.

  And he’d be a damn fool if he turned her away again.

  He lowered her onto the bed. He should be seducing her. Taking things slow and easy. Making her moan and tremble with her need.

  But he was stripping her. Nearly tearing her clothes in his haste because he wanted her naked. Wanted in her more than he wanted to draw another breath right then.

  She kicked off her shoes. He yanked down her jeans, tore away her panties.

  He was still kissing her. Her tongue licked over his, and his cock jerked—the damn thing was so full and heavy with arousal that he was pretty sure the indentation of the zipper marked him.

  He’d shoved protect
ion in his wallet earlier. Because he’d known that he was too desperate for her and he’d wanted to be prepared in case his control broke.

  Yeah, it had cracked when she kissed him. He was barely holding on to the tattered remains of that control then.

  There will be no going back.

  He heaved up and finally managed to pull his mouth from hers. Her green eyes stared up at him. No fear, only desire.

  He caught her shirt in his hands. Yanked the T-shirt up and over her head. The plain white bra that she wore just might have been the sexiest piece of underwear he’d ever seen.

  But he still wanted it gone.

  He fumbled—twice—and managed to unhook the bra. So much for finesse. He felt big and awkward and clumsy and all he wanted—

  In her.

  The blood pounded in his veins, his body seemed to burn from the inside out, and when she parted her legs for him, when she reached for his cock and her fingers touched him . . .

  Gabe was gone.

  His control shattered. No other word.

  Desire consumed him. He sheathed his cock in that rubber, and he caught her hands. She couldn’t touch him, not then. He caged her hands in his grip even as he thrust into her. He should have used restraint. She deserved care.

  But he was too far gone for that. He was beyond anything but desire. A need that controlled, a hunger to consume and take everything that she had to give.

  Her hips arched toward him and he drove down, plunging deep into her. She gasped when he filled her—

  Don’t want to hurt her, don’t—

  Then her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. Her eyes seemed to go wild with pleasure.

  And he didn’t hold back. His thrusts were hard and strong, and he kissed her as he took her. His tongue plunged past her lips even as his cock plunged into her body. More, again, deeper, and she was so tight. So incredibly tight and hot and wet as her body gripped him. His eyes were nearly rolling back into his head because sex with her was that fucking good.

  Have to make it good for her, too . . . she has to feel . . . what I feel . . .

  He freed her hands. His fingers slid between their bodies. He found her clit, stroked her even as he kept thrusting. His head lifted as he stared down at her.