A shadow lunged for the open garden door.
Chapter 12
“Get hotel security. Press eight on the phone,” Roman said as he pushed past Leah.
“No!” she cried, the word torn from her raggedly as she tried to stop him. In that fraction of a second when he met her panicked eyes, all the doubts about their relationship ceased to matter. She was scared—for him. The rush of emotion was so intense it nearly bowled him over. But he didn’t have time to feel. He had to act, now. The figure had already disappeared.
He left Leah behind, gave chase through the garden doors, wishing with all his heart he was armed with more than an absolute will to stop this thing, whatever it was, that was happening to Leah.
Crashing into the rain-soaked night, Roman spotted the man rounding the corner of the next bungalow, heading for the beach—and the hammock of thick trees. Breath seared Roman’s lungs, but no way was he slowing down. He charged forward, praying hotel security wouldn’t be too far behind. If the man reached the hammock of trees, he’d lose himself in the night-thick tropical morass. Sand flew up as he raced onto the beach.
Thank God he was a runner. The other man was already winded, but nothing was stopping Roman. The intruder charged into the dark trees nonetheless. Roman left the wet beach, threw himself into the jungle-thick hammock, tackling the man just as he stumbled over a root. Something stung Roman’s cheek, a branch or thorny vine. They hit the ground with a jarring thud that nearly knocked the wind out of Roman. Something tumbled forward out of the man’s hand, knocked back off a tree trunk. A gun.
Blood surged through Roman’s veins. Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it fast. He hadn’t trained for tackling criminals on Wall Street, but he knew right then and there he’d do anything for Leah. When the man tried to scramble away, Roman yanked him back down by the collar of his jacket and slammed a fist into the side of his face. The man was stunned just long enough for Roman to lunge for the gun.
With no hesitation whatsoever he pressed the barrel under the man’s chin. In the twilight he recognized the man from the beach. The man who’d been watching Leah. And now he’d been in their bungalow. Why?
“If I were you, I wouldn’t move,” Roman told him.
The man swore. The sound of voices rang out from a distance. Hotel security. Rain dripped down through the trees. The man’s eyes flared in the dimness.
“Who the hell are you?” Roman demanded, his blood jerking through his veins.
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” The man seemed to regain his senses from the daze of Roman’s blow. But he didn’t move other than to gasp for breath. The cold push of the gun’s barrel beneath his chin held him immobilized.
“You can tell me or you can tell the police. Hotel security is on the way.”
The man swore again. “I’m a private detective.” His voice shook slightly. “I have a license. If you’ll let me get my wallet—”
Not a chance. “Where is it?”
“Inside my jacket. There’s a pocket—”
Roman kept the barrel trained beneath the man’s chin, used his other hand to rip open the man’s jacket. He found the wallet, flipped it open. The P.I. license was in the front plastic sleeve. He jerked it sideways, dumping the card out, and tilted it in his hand till he could barely make out the name in the stormy twilight through the trees. Norman Robertson. State of Florida. His father had lied to him once about hiring a private eye to investigate Leah. And now it appeared he’d lied to him again yesterday on the phone. Roman’s heart beat with a sick, thudding rhythm. Anger flooded him.
“I have a permit for this gun,” Robertson said.
“You don’t have a permit for breaking and entering,” Roman grated, throwing the wallet down. He tucked the P.I. license in his back pocket. “You don’t have a permit to stalk my wife.” Roman bit out each word. “Who hired you? Or do you want to wait and explain it from a jail cell?”
“You don’t want me to explain anything to the police, Bradshaw,” the man hissed. “Your wife—” he spat the word “—is living here under a false identity. I’m not stalking her. I wasn’t going to do anything to hurt her. I was just looking for information.”
Roman’s heart tripped, turned to ice. “What do you know about my wife?”
“More than you do.”
Roman tossed aside the gun and grabbed him by the throat. “Then spill it. Now.”
“Ask your family if you want to know. I work for them, not you. And if you don’t want the whole island to know what your family already knows about that wife of yours, you’d better let me go before hotel security gets here.” The man’s glazed eyes locked with Roman’s. “Nobody’s trying to hurt your wife, Bradshaw. She’s the criminal.”
Roman felt like someone had reached in and clamped a fist around his heart. Nobody’s trying to hurt your wife. She’s the criminal. It wasn’t possible. No way in hell. He couldn’t believe Leah had done anything wrong.
The voices beyond the hammock came closer.
If you don’t want the whole island to know…
“My family hired you?” Roman demanded. “I guarantee you, you are off the case. Get out of Thunder Key. If I see you near Leah again, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens to you. Do you understand?”
“Fine, whatever. They didn’t tell me you were insane.”
Roman jerked off him, picked up the gun and emptied the bullets from the chamber before tossing it back. “Get out of here.”
He had to find out what his parents knew about Leah. And he had to protect her. Even if that meant letting this creep get away.
The man staggered to his feet. He scrambled for his emptied gun and his wallet in the underbrush. “Where’s my license?”
“In my pocket. Be happy you’re not losing it permanently for breaking and entering.” Roman raised his voice. “Now get lost!”
The man hesitated for about two seconds, then disappeared into the mesh of trees. Roman stepped out of the woods, nearly barreling into two uniformed hotel security guards. He felt out of breath and his whole body strummed with an awful tension. He’d been around the hotel long enough for them to recognize him.
“We had a call on an intruder, sir,” one of the guards said, out of breath himself.
“Someone was in my bungalow when I entered it,” Roman said. “I chased him, but lost him in the trees.”
The guard spoke into a walkie-talkie, then nodded at the other guard. “See if you can find him.”
The other guard took off.
“He’s long gone,” Roman said. “I’m not sure if anything was taken, so we should go back and check. But I think we interrupted him before he got a chance.” Let them think it was a burglary attempt. He didn’t care. He just didn’t want anyone asking questions about Leah.
“Sir, we take pride in our security here. We should have security tapes that can show us who was on the property tonight, and might help us nail him. Was the bungalow locked?”
“Yes.” He had to get to Leah. He didn’t care about any of this. “I need to get back to my—” Wife. He wanted to say wife, but he bit back the word.
If you want the whole island to know… For now, till he found out what was really in Leah’s past, it was for the best to keep her identity under wraps. He couldn’t believe it, but obviously the detective had found out something in Leah’s former life. Before she met Roman. Before they married. And his parents knew it. He had to get the information.
Then he’d deal with it, whatever it was.
What if she was on the run? Thoughts rioted in his head. What if she had been on the run when he met her? What if she was wanted for a crime? Would he take her away from here, now that she’d been found?
His chest wound tight at the thought, but he knew without a doubt he would do anything it took to protect her. But what if he couldn’t protect her? What if it was something so terrible…
He couldn’t let himself think that way.
“I h
ave to get back to my bungalow. I have a…friend.”
“A member of the hotel staff is with her, sir,” the guard said. “The police are on the way. We’ll need both of you to make a statement when they get here.”
Roman nodded. “Fine.”
The guard spoke into his walkie-talkie again. The other guard scrambled back through the trees, onto the beach. “No sign of him.”
Thank God. Roman charged back across the beach. The bungalow. Leah. He needed to hold her, right now, in his arms, the same way he needed his next breath.
All the lights were on in the bungalow. Leah stood framed in the garden doors.
She ran out to him. He pulled her into his arms.
“I was so worried,” she breathed shakily against his chest.
Roman pulled her into the bungalow, into the light. She looked shell-shocked, but she was smiling shakily in relief. God, he didn’t want to say anything that would take that smile off her face. He saw a female hotel employee waiting by the door.
“I was so scared,” Leah whispered. “Don’t ever do that again! You could have been killed. If something had happened to you—”
“Shh. Nothing happened. I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine, and neither was she, but he had no idea how to tell her. He didn’t want to tell her.
The phone in the bungalow rang sharply. Leah almost jumped out of her skin.
Roman grabbed the phone.
“Mr. Bradshaw? An officer is here from the Thunder Key PD. He’s on his way to your bungalow now.”
Roman thanked the clerk and hung up. “We’re going to have to make a statement,” he explained to Leah. “It shouldn’t take long.”
Especially since he’d be lying through his teeth to the officer.
“Your cheek,” Leah said suddenly, and reached up to touch him. “You have a cut.”
Roman hadn’t even felt it. “Must have happened when I chased the guy into the trees,” he said.
Leah’s eyes darkened for a second, the fear returning. Fear for him.
“I’m fine,” he told her again. She had no reason to fear for him, at least that much was true. It was Leah who could be in trouble. But at least she was safe. No one on Thunder Key was out to hurt her. There was no stalker. But there was no lessening in the tension in Roman’s body. Something terrible was in her past and he couldn’t rest till he knew what it was.
There was a knock on the door. The hotel employee opened it. An officer in a Thunder Key Police uniform entered the bungalow. The hotel employee closed it as she left.
The officer shook Leah’s and Roman’s hands, and they sat at the table and chair near the garden doors. Roman briefly explained the report they’d made earlier in the day about the strange phone calls and the man following Leah. He left out everything else. The officer took prints from both the garden doors and the bungalow entrance.
Finally satisfied, the officer finished. “I’ll be collecting the security tapes from the hotel,” he said. “I’ll let you know if anything turns up. If you look around later and realize something was stolen after all, give me a call at the station.”
“Thank you.” Roman escorted him to the door. He turned back to Leah. She stood by the bed, exhausted and pale.
“Let me see to that cut,” she said softly, reaching for him.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget it.” A bleakness hit him, nearly doubled him over. He had no idea what was ahead for her. She looked so innocent, so beautiful and fragile.
She stared up at him, her eyes hurting, worried. “Something’s wrong.”
His heart twisted.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Her voice sounded hollow in the now-empty bungalow.
He sat her down on the bed, tugged her into his arms, touched her hair, her back, felt the softness of her arms.
“Roman!”
He drew back enough to see her face. “The man’s name is Norman Robertson. He’s a private detective, hired by my family. I didn’t tell the police I caught up with him because…I didn’t want there to be questions. About you.” He pulled out the investigator’s license and showed it to her.
“Oh, God,” she breathed. She looked scared again.
“The important thing to know is that the man who was watching you, photographing you, isn’t going to hurt you. You’re not in danger from him.” She could be in danger, but it was another sort of danger. Danger from the law, not from some crazed stalker. He didn’t want to tell her that. She was terrified enough. She’d been through enough.
When he found out the truth, it would be soon enough to tell her. Right now he didn’t know anything, and what he had to say would only upset her more.
He hated not telling her everything. She deserved the truth—both of them did. But what if she ran? What if she’d been running that night her car went over the bridge?
There was no way he was risking it. He had to find out for himself, and then he could prove to her that nothing would tear them apart.
And he prayed that was true.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s off the case.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll make sure.” He wanted to call his parents right that minute, but his father had lied to him on the phone just yesterday. There was no way he’d know if he was getting the truth now.
He had to talk to his parents face-to-face. He didn’t know whether Mark had told them about Leah, or if they’d sent the detective down here on their own just to check up on him. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it stop.
And that when it was over, he still had Leah.
“I’m going to have to go to New York,” he told her. “Tomorrow. I’ll come back tomorrow night if I can, or the next morning at the latest.”
“Why?” She looked as if she wanted to cling to him, but she kept her arms at her sides.
“I need to speak to my family,” he said. “It’s time for them to understand that they have no role to play in what’s happening here between us. And maybe I can get some answers for you. I have to find out what the investigator told them about you. He wouldn’t tell me anything. But my family will. I’m not going to give them a choice.” He struggled to temper the anger in his voice. This wasn’t the time. He would deal with his parents when he got to New York. Right now Leah needed him.
“I can’t go with you. I’m not ready.” Her voice shook.
“I know.” He didn’t want to leave her tomorrow, but he had no choice. He had to find out the truth. “I won’t be gone more than one night,” he swore to her.
The silence seemed to ache between them. There were still so many unknowns. Their future was like a dark lake and he couldn’t see the bottom.
Tension was visible in Leah’s shoulders, and Roman pulled her back into his arms. He prayed he wouldn’t find out something in New York that would hurt her. His heart was beating an unmistakable message. After eighteen months, the feelings he had for her were stronger than ever, but he couldn’t bear to put them into words, even in his own mind. Not when their future was still lost in the fog of Leah’s memories. He couldn’t stand to lose her again. He would do whatever he had to do to make sure he didn’t. But ultimately, he was afraid it was out of his control. Maybe even out of Leah’s.
He didn’t want her to lose hope, though.
“You don’t have to be scared anymore, Leah. Whatever is in your past, we’ll deal with it together.”
“Don’t make any promises,” she said softly.
Her words tore him apart. He could feel her heart pounding. He didn’t know what to say to her, but he couldn’t have stopped himself from lying down on the bed and pulling her into his arms if he’d tried. Her clothes were still damp, but she was warm and willing and exactly what he needed. He was careful, tenderly aware of her still-bandaged hand. She was ready, willing to give herself to him, wanting him so much it made his chest hurt and his eyes sting.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered against her mouth. He want
ed this night, in this once-honeymoon bed, to never end. He wanted anything to be possible. He pulled her against him and kissed her tenderly, soulfully, and he pretended all those things were true.
Leah’s head swam and blood coursed warm and heavy through her veins. He slipped his hands beneath her blouse and the sensation of his fingers against her skin was beyond description. Everything about the way he held her, kissed her, was right, like a home-coming. And she didn’t want to think about anything except the way his hands, his mouth, felt on her willing body.
He tugged up on her blouse and she lay back on the soft bed beside him as he pulled it over her head. With one swift move, he yanked his own shirt aside, then reached for the nearly-transparent cream bra she wore. He traced the lace edging for a moment, his gaze holding hers, questioning, asking permission. She reached for the front clasp, and the filmy covering came apart.
As if he couldn’t resist another second, he cupped the soft heat of her breasts, buried his face in her, kissed her, inhaled her, until she was frantically searching for the buckle of his belt, the button on his jeans.
She wanted him so very badly. The zipper stuck and she fumbled with it, her fingers shaking with the need that burned inside her like a ferocious fire.
“I need you now,” she whispered as he swept his tongue again across her sensitive nipple.
He pulled up his head and she was lost for a wild beat in his hungering eyes. “Where?” he asked huskily. “Tell me where.”
“Here.” She pushed at her pants, almost frantic. She wanted these clothes standing between them to be gone. He leaned back, tore them off her hips, down and away. She worried again at his zipper and this time he helped her, until they were both naked in the shrouded bed.
Leah touched his smooth, muscled chest, closing her eyes now, experiencing the pure heaven of his skin beneath her fingertips. He was so warm, so solid, so safe to her in this world that hadn’t been safe in a very long time. Her universe narrowed to only him, only now, only here.
And then he was kissing her, touching her, sweeping his hands all over her body, and she was in ecstasy. It was sweet and simple and natural. She reached between them, encircling his arousal, and she felt his own passion kick into overdrive. He explored her body, as well, and she responded instantly to his touch. She drew in a quivery intake of air. Sweetly slick with need, she was ready for him. Lifting her hips into his hand, she encouraged him, but he wouldn’t be rushed.
Her Man To Remember Page 15