by Pat White
His lips demanded a response.
Firm, yet soft, Sean’s mouth came down on hers. Incredible warmth filled Annie’s chest. She’d been cold for so long. But now she felt safe. She started to push against his chest, but he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. A moan bubbled up inside her throat that seemed to ignite his desire even more. With one arm wrapped her waist, the other pulled her against him as if he couldn’t get enough.
She couldn’t fight this. A memory flashed to the surface, as if they’d done this before. And it felt so right.
Sean broke the kiss and her mind swam in confusion. Tipping her head back, she studied his dark green eyes and saw layers of raw pain that made her own chest ache. There was more to this man than the images in her scattered memory. Much more.
“Now that, I remember,” Annie said, softly.
PAT WHITE
SILENT MEMORIES
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Debra Webb for opening the door, and Denise Zaza for inviting me in.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Growing up in the Midwest, Pat White has been spinning stories in her head ever since she was a little girl, stories filled with mystery, romance and adventure. Years later, while trying to solve the mysteries of raising a family in a house full of men, she started writing romantic fiction. After six Golden Heart nominations and a Romantic Times BOOKclub Award for Best Contemporary Romance (2004), her passion for storytelling and love of a good romance continues to find a voice in her tales of romantic suspense. Pat now lives in the Pacific Northwest and she’s still trying to solve the mysteries of living in a house full of men—with the added complication of two silly dogs and three spoiled cats. She loves to hear from readers, so please visit her at www.patwhitebooks.com.
Books by Pat White
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
944—SILENT MEMORIES
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Sean MacNeil—Undercover FBI agent assigned to protect naive scientist Annie Price, not fall in love with her.
Annie Price—Sheltered scientist who awakens after a coma with no memory yet she senses that Sean is responsible for the car accident that nearly killed her.
Raymond Phelps—Millionaire who took Annie into his home as his protégée, giving her the education she needed to develop her brilliant mind. But are his motivations genuine or sinister?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter One
Sean MacNeil gripped the steering wheel of his Ford Explorer and stared out the front windshield at the aging building. Ivy climbed up the side of the red brick, stretching and curling, reaching out for life.
But inside there was no life. Only souls passing time until they reached their next stop, empty minds content in mindlessness.
The windshield wipers stroked away the rain, now coming in torrents over the New England countryside. He wished that just for today he could forget who he was, who she was. That just for today, he could go to a ball game or movie without thinking of her. She’d never know the difference. She lived in a land of contentment sitting in her corner, rocking, humming, shutting out everything that happened before last spring, when deception had obliterated her calm, happy life.
The chain grew heavy around his soul; the only relief was his obligatory visit. Except for this past month, he’d done his weekly chore. He’d driven out to the remote hospital and checked on the patient they’d named Mary, the woman he knew as someone else.
If only he could rid himself of this curse. But some mistakes were eternal ones. And “Mary” was his.
The rhythmic swish of the wipers calmed him somehow, the frantic pace of his heart slowing to a steady beat. The rain was letting up. Maybe he’d spot a rainbow or two before the day was out.
He swung open the door and stepped onto the slick asphalt, hesitating before he made the twenty-yard trek to the front door. The staff would be pleased that someone cared enough to visit. A nurse would lead him to Mary’s room, where he’d find the twenty-seven-year-old woman huddled in a corner, her fingers wrapped around a tattered stuffed animal. A rabbit? A dog? He wasn’t sure. He’d never gotten that close.
Flipping his raincoat collar to shield his neck, he vaulted the brick stairs two at a time. He reached the landing and gave his head a shake, ridding his hair of excess moisture.
He knocked on the door. Paced. Waited. Knocked again. Damn, he wanted this over. He wanted to perform his duty, turn tail and race the two hundred miles back to the City.
“One moment please,” a voice said through the intercom.
He glanced over his shoulder at the Maine countryside. Trees glowed yellow, orange and red with the coming of fall. Peaceful. That’s what he hated about the country. It promised something he knew didn’t exist.
His gaze drifted down to his black high-tops, remembering a time when the shine on his shoes was more important than his next meal.
The front door creaked open. Nurse Redmond greeted him with a scowl, her face pale, her gray hair pulled back into a taut bun.
“Mr. MacNeil, we haven’t seen you in a while.” She escorted him to the main desk where he scribbled his name in the visitors’ log.
“I’ve been out of town on business,” he said.
“Mary will be happy to see you.”
Happy? Mary? Hell, she didn’t know where she was, who Sean was. “If you say so.”
“You must have faith,” Nurse Redmond said. “I’ve worked in many hospitals and have seen some amazing things. Miracles can happen.”
Her eyes were so round and serious. He couldn’t laugh, not in the woman’s face. Let her float in her bubble of fantasy. Let someone still believe in miracles.
“I’d like to see Mary,” he said.
She pursed her lips and led him down the hall to the north wing.
He ignored the cries of patients that echoed down the barren white hallway. Every time he left this place the hollowness of their cries haunted him at night, waking him with their agony. Nurse Redmond greeted another, younger nurse.
“Lydia. This is Mr. MacNeil. Could you take him the rest of the way? I have to check on Mrs. Banks.”
“Sure.”
Nurse Redmond avoided eye contact with Sean. She lifted her chin and marched down the hall, disappearing into a room.
Contempt. That’s the weapon she’d aimed at him. Contempt for not believing in miracles.
The same expression that stared back at him every day he looked in the mirror.
“Mr. MacNeil?”
He turned his attention to Nurse Lydia. Young and fresh, like Mary probably looked ten years ago.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He shoved his hands into his raincoat pockets. “Just tired.”
Tired of life. Tired of death. Tired of serving a sentence he didn’t deserve.
She smiled and led him down the hall toward his “wife’s” room. He followed slowly, struggling with each step. God, why hadn’t he listened to Connors? Why hadn’t he stuck with the original plan instead of improvising one of his own? What had he been thinking?
That’s the point. He hadn’t used his brain; he’d acted from the heart. Never again.
“Will you be coming back Saturday?” the young nurse asked.
“Saturday?”
“We have a special variety show planned.”
“Today is the only day I can ma
ke it.” The only day I can muster the emotional strength.
They turned the corner to Mary’s room. “That’s a shame. It’s a great show.”
Great for whom? Not for Sean, who fought back an inferno of pain each time he visited his “wife” and knew that he was to blame for her condition.
“Mary’s the star of the show,” the nurse continued.
“She doesn’t even know where she is.”
“Maybe not. But she knows she’s going to be in the show. She’s very exited about it. She told me herself.”
She told me herself. Impossible.
He touched the sleeve of her white polyester uniform. “What did you say?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I said, Mary told me she was excited about performing.”
“Mary hasn’t spoken in nearly six months.”
“We’ve made great progress in the last month. Dr. Zinkerman’s new drug has done wonders. Mary can even write her name.” She opened the door and he followed her inside. “Can’t you, Mary?”
He glanced across the room. The woman they’d named Mary sat in her rocking chair, staring out the window as she had so many times during his visits. Only this time, she turned at the sound of the nurse’s voice.
Something was different. They’d cut her hair, feathered it back about her face like she’d worn it as a teenager. Her shirt didn’t list off her shoulder, her cheeks were more pinkish than white. She looked almost normal. He absently took a step back, bracing himself against the wall for support.
“Mary?” Nurse Lydia said.
The sound of Nurse Lydia’s voice put Mary at ease. Nurse Lydia was kind and helpful, and today she’d even brought a visitor. Maybe it was someone who could tell her who she was and where she’d come from. She put her glasses to the bridge of her nose to get a better look.
Her heart stopped cold and she choked on rising panic.
Oh God, no. Not him.
“Mary? What’s wrong?” Nurse Lydia asked.
She couldn’t speak, her voice frozen in her chest.
Rain slapping the car window; tears streaming down her face. Blinded by bright lights…coming toward her…jerk the wheel. Her breath torn from her chest.
“Nooo,” she moaned. Voice—her own voice. Speaking, pleading.
Get him out of here, she wanted to cry. Out of her room. She didn’t want to crash, didn’t want to get hurt again.
“Gooooo!” she cried. They’d have to make him leave, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t force her to be with him in the same room, alone. She’d just learned to use her mouth, her tongue, to form words. She couldn’t use it before, afraid of what would come out. That sound. The shrill screech that rang in her ears. Her piercing cry for help.
She gasped for air, but her throat constricted. Stars danced before her eyes. She struggled to focus on the picture across the room. It showed an enchanted castle on a mountain. That’s where she belonged. Not here, surrounded by sick people. She grabbed her throat, willed it to relax, to open up. Her eyes watered and her mouth went dry.
“Help me get her on the bed!” Nurse Lydia said.
No. He’d touch her. He’d hurt her again.
“Noooo,” she cried, using her last breath to fend off the monster who stood motionless in the corner of her room. She knew she was weak. Vulnerable and at a disadvantage. But that wouldn’t stop her from fighting.
“Station One, we need a doctor up here, right away,” Nurse Lydia called into the intercom.
Mary curled her fingers tighter around the arms of the metal chair. The man stepped closer.
“It’s okay, Mary. You’ll be okay.” The nurse approached her.
Mary couldn’t take her eyes off the huge man dressed in black, eyes like ice.
“Go to her.” Lydia motioned to the man.
No, not him!
He took a step. Then another. He didn’t look as if he wanted to help. Of course he didn’t. He wanted her dead. He crouched in front of her. She clenched the arms of the chair for strength. What would he do? Strangle her? Right here in front of Nurse Lydia?
She looked away, searched over his shoulder for Nurse Lydia’s calming eyes and warm smile. The man cupped her chin with his forefinger and thumb and guided her gaze back to his dark, icy stare. She closed her eyes, not wanting her last image on earth to be those cruel, green eyes. She struggled to inhale air through her nose. Nothing worked. Everything broken. Her leg, her hip, her heart.
“Please, open your eyes.”
That voice. Smooth as silk, deep as the ocean, and she was drowning in it. God, help her. Take the devil from her room and rescue her from hell.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Liar. She was already hurt. Her bones ached when it rained. Her mind had been pulverized until a few weeks ago. Thanks to him.
She wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t lose the precious gift she’d been given: her life. She sucked in air between her teeth, her brain needing oxygen to keep from shutting down completely.
“Do you know who I am?” He touched her forearm.
Won’t somebody help me? Warmth crept up her arm. Heat, red-hot, like fire.
“Nooo!” Her eyes shot open and she shoved at his chest. He fell backward and she jumped to her feet, pain shooting down her left side. The rain. The ache. She crossed the room, her hands clutching her hip.
“Mary, calm down.” Nurse Lydia reached for her. “Surely you remember your husband, Sean?”
Husband? It couldn’t be. That meant he’d cared for her, touched her. This man, this monster who wanted her dead.
She pushed Nurse Lydia aside, stumbled toward the door and collided with Dr. Zinkerman.
“What’s all this?” The doctor’s firm hands shackled her upper arms. “You’re upset.”
Damn straight she was upset. She was fighting for her life.
“No…husband.” She pointed to the man sitting on the floor. The devil looked dumbstruck, as if he couldn’t believe she’d unmasked his true identity.
“It’s a shock.” Dr. Zinkerman steered her to the bed. She gripped his white coat, scrunching the starched cotton between her fingers. She wouldn’t let go, not as long as the devil hovered close by.
“Lie down and we’ll give you something to help you relax.”
She didn’t want to relax, she didn’t want to float away over the rolling hills like she did whenever he gave her the shot. She had finally awakened. There was too much to do, to see, to feel.
To finally feel.
“No…sleep,” she protested.
“Mary, I always do what’s best for you, don’t I?” The doctor nodded over his shoulder at the nurse. Mary’s focus shot to the devil, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor. She heard rattling behind the doctor. The shot. They were giving it to her whether she liked it or not.
“No sleep!” she cried, in case Dr. Zinkerman hadn’t understood her the first time.
“No sleep, Mary. Just something to calm you down. You’re excited. It’s been too much for you in one day.”
He coaxed her head to the pillow and she stared into his light brown eyes. Gentle eyes. She trusted him to take care of her. He wouldn’t let the devil hurt her again. But what if she was the only one who knew the devil’s true identity?
“Gooo!” She pointed at the devil.
“Get him out of here,” Dr. Zinkerman ordered.
The devil didn’t budge.
“Please, let’s go outside and give the doctor some time.” Nurse Lydia touched his shoulder.
Sean’s gaze drifted to the nurse. He felt as if he were in a dream, but it wasn’t one of his usual nightmares where they’d found her, tortured and killed her.
“Please, Mr. MacNeil,” the nurse pleaded.
“Right.” He got to his feet, not taking his eyes off the doctor.
“I’ll be outside,” he said, clarifying that he wasn’t leaving until he got answers about her condition. Was this temporary? Permanent? Did she know who she was
? Who he was? Hell, for her sake he hoped not.
The nurse led him to the door. He glanced over his shoulder once, catching the relief that blanketed Mary’s face. She looked at the doctor with such trust. Sean’s gut clenched.
Of course she trusted the doctor. The doctor hadn’t betrayed her in the worst way. Good ol’ Sean. Smart, clever Sean. Hell, if he was that smart, she wouldn’t have ended up in a place like this, her mind obliterated by the carnage.
Pushing through the door, he slammed his fist against the wall outside her room. “Damn it!”
“I’m sorry.”
He turned and studied the young nurse whose round face strained with sympathy.
“I really thought she’d be happy to see you. She gets confused sometimes.”
He forced a smile. An ally would be good right about now. “I don’t understand. The last time I saw her, she was, you know…”
“Noncommunicative.”
He nodded, his thoughts spinning like a top. What next? Should he call the Bureau? Tell them she’d awakened? What would they do with her?
“It was a combination of things that brought her around.” The nurse led him toward a waiting area. “The new medication helped, plus Dr. Zinkerman has been spending extra time with her.”
She motioned for him to sit on the gray vinyl couch. Nurse Lydia sat in the high-backed chair. “We’re so glad to have Dr. Zinkerman with us.”
“I don’t remember him being on staff before.”
“He joined us a few months ago. He started working with Mary only recently.”
New. Recent. He gripped the arm of the couch. He’d been successful in keeping her identity a secret so far, keeping her safe and protected. No one could have traced her here. Unless—
He jumped to his feet and paced the small waiting area. He was too savvy an agent to believe in complete safety. Hell, he’d seen it all, from businessmen who moonlighted as drug dealers to wealthy aristocrats who manipulated children away from their families. Innocent, defenseless children. He balled his hand into a fist.