by Spear, Terry
She sighed deeply, intent on making it over the hurdle that seemed impossible for them to navigate. She took the lotion from him. “Here, let me do the honors next.”
He shook his head. “I really don’t need any. It’s late enough and—”
“All right.” Jenny couldn’t curb the irritation in her voice this time. She dropped the container on her towel and headed for the water. How could they be newlyweds when he acted like he was so afraid to touch her?
Allan jogged after her. “Tell me if your head is hurting, and we’ll go back in.”
Jenny wasn’t going back inside. If he didn’t want to be with her, fine. And for his information, her head was hurting, had been since she got out of bed. The worry over their relationship was making it pound even harder, so much so she could barely see straight. But she wasn’t going to let it keep her down. And she wasn’t going back into the condo to act like an invalid.
At first the water felt cold, and she gasped, but the farther out she waded, the warmer it seemed as her body grew used to it. A school of blue fish swam around her legs and she laughed. “Oh, Allan, look at the fish!”
She looked up to see him watching her, standing waist deep in the water. His eyes were dark and full of worry. What was the matter with him?
Wading back to him, she took his hand in hers. “Allan, you’re scaring me. What in heaven’s name is wrong?”
Chapter 4
Allan glanced back at the condo. Jenny quashed the annoyance running through her that he remained silent and wouldn’t tell her what was wrong. Two blond-haired men about Allan’s age sat in the chairs on either side of the ones he’d laid the towels on.
“Are they friends of yours?” she asked.
He nodded. “Cameron is the one who’s a thinner build with darker blond hair on the right. Samuel is the other.”
“Are they worried about me?”
“They’re just here to enjoy the view.”
She didn’t like being in a fishbowl, exposed to speculation and possibly ridicule. “They can see the view better if we’re not blocking it. Come on. Let’s swim along the beach. If we get tired, we can walk in the sand the rest of the way back.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Are you worried about the mugger?”
“I don’t think he’s coming back, but I want to be careful.”
“Then your friends are watching us.”
He looked out to sea.
All right, he could play the game anyway he wanted. But she wasn’t buying it. She walked into the ocean up to her shoulders, enjoying the silky feel of the warm water as it caressed her skin. So far so good. But when she attempted to swim up the beach a ways, he grasped her ankle and pulled her in like a fisherman reeling in his catch.
Now this was more like it. Some playful swimming maneuvers to get the juices worked up? When he let go of her, she figured what was the use and swam off again. Their relationship definitely had some kinks they’d have to work out, if they even had much of one to begin with. She was beginning to wonder.
He grabbed her again, only this time he pulled her close and held her tight. His arms wrapped securely around her body, pressing her against his, hard and totally appealing. The tide pushed at them, threatening to pull them back and forth. But Allan served as an anchor and kept his feet planted firmly in the sand, holding her for dear life. His obvious erection pressed next to her waist as he captured her mouth with his, demanding instant gratification.
And she wanted every bit of him, right then and there as much as he seemed to want her. His lips were salty from the sea and felt warm and secure against hers. But it was the way in which he kissed her, like he’d been starved for affection for eons that made her heart soar with intrigue. His tanned skin smelled like the salty sea and all male. She took in another deep breath to memorize his fragrance.
Her body ached for more…much, much more. Heat pooled between her legs, and she hadn’t ever remembered feeling such longing. She desired him deep inside her to fill her own need.
Their bodies trembled against each other, the adrenaline coursing through their systems at racetrack speeds. He didn’t stop kissing, their tongues tangling, until they were both breathless.
Whether it was her head injury or his passion, she gripped his waist for fear of passing out.
He sensed her distress and lifted her in his arms. “You’ve had enough, Jenny. I suspect if I set you on the shore, you wouldn’t make it a step.” His voice sounded sensually husky, but he spoke with authority.
She hadn’t had enough at all, damn him. Her face heated with exasperation. She wanted him to keep it up, kiss her into oblivion and…and make beastly passionate love to her that she now knew he was capable of if he just wouldn’t hold back. No matter what, she had to win her husband back.
She had to unveil the treasure he tantalized her with. His wet swim trunks gave her a peek at what he had in store for her, if she could only convince him when they returned to the privacy of their bedroom that she was all right and capable of handling his making love to her.
But an undefined niggling in her mind forced her to worry. Was he so concerned about her condition? Or was their marriage really already on the rocks? Still, his kissing her sure implied he wanted her a great deal. Yet she couldn’t fathom the hot and cold of their relationship.
Allan carried Jenny onto the beach as Cameron and Samuel ran to meet him.
“Is she all right?” Cameron grabbed her wrist and checked for a pulse.
She raised her brows at Cameron’s actions. Boy Scout first-aid trained? She’d never seen men so concerned over another man’s wife. Her brows knitted in a tight frown. Then again, she didn’t remember much of anything.
“Yes. She’s all right, just exerted herself too much after her injury.” Allan sounded annoyed with himself, and she wondered if he felt embarrassed that he hadn’t protected her better.
Her body heated with irritation. She didn’t think she was the frail, wilting flower type, and there wasn’t any way she wanted to be fawned over like this for the rest of her honeymoon with Allan. Maybe…maybe they should return home, wherever that was, and get to know each other all over again in a place that was more familiar.
As soon as they were alone, she’d bring it up.
***
Allan couldn’t have been more furious with himself as his neck muscles constricted in anger. He’d gone and done it now. He never should have lost control and kissed her like he had. What the hell was he thinking? Was it the rebound from his divorce from Millie that made him want Jenny so badly?
Keeping his hands off her was going to be a monumental task. And certainly her actions weren’t helping him at all. Just her purring when he put the lotion on her back, and the way she had melted to his touch stirred all kinds of images of them naked in bed.
No doubt about it, he was sleeping on the couch tonight.
He’d only meant to keep her from swimming away from their safe spot on the beach, knowing her condition most likely wouldn’t allow her to do too much vigorous exercise. He wasn’t worried about Thurman or his men finding her for a good long while, if ever. Although, Allan and his partners intended to keep a lookout at all times. For now, he was more concerned about her health. Then he had to go and kiss her, nearly making her pass out. Really great going.
Allan tightened his hold on her as she leaned against his body, the expression on her face one of annoyance.
Samuel smiled at her. “Good thing Allan works out, huh?”
“I feel like an idiot,” she said, her voice sharp.
Allan squeezed her against his body. “You can’t help that you’ve suffered a concussion. I should’ve insisted you stay in bed a while longer.”
She trailed her finger through the hair on his chest, heating his groin to dangerous levels. He already had an erection the size of Texas. “I wouldn’t mind if you’d join me,” she said to him softly.
Cameron and Samuel snickered, undoubtedly hearing her words s
poken privately to him. He could have socked the two of them for being so insensitive.
Cameron punched numbers on his cell phone and hurried in front of Allan. “Yeah, it’s Cameron. She’s overexerted herself, and Allan’s taking her back to the condo.” He paused for a few seconds. “Plenty of rest. I’ll tell them.” He folded his phone away and looked back at Allan.
“The doctor?” she asked.
“Yeah, he wanted to know if there were any changes in your condition,” Cameron quickly said. “It was the only way he would allow Allan to keep you here for the rest of your honeymoon.”
Allan nodded, hoping she’d believe the story, as they all trudged through the drifting sand back to the building. From now on, there was no way he’d let her talk him into anything further until she felt a hundred percent better.
When they reached the back door, Cameron punched numbers into a security panel. The green light switched on, and he pulled the door open.
“Will you be needing anything?” Cameron asked.
“We should have everything upstairs we need, thanks,” Allan said.
When they reached their floor, Allan was slightly winded, and he tried to curb his annoyance. But there wasn’t any way he would have allowed anyone else to carry Jenny the rest of the way from the beach.
Dale opened the door for him and frowned. “What happened?”
“She hasn’t gotten her strength back yet. We need to take it a little slower.” He considered laying her in bed, but she was sandy, wet, and salty from their romp in the sea.
He headed for the master bedroom’s private bathroom instead.
“Need my help with anything?” Dale asked, following behind him.
“No, thanks, Dale. Why don’t you join the guys downstairs for a card game or something?” Allan didn’t want Jenny to think there was anything fishy about the guys being so concerned. They prided themselves in getting a mission done right, but this time, caring for an amnesia victim who could be Wilson’s next casualty proved a lot more difficult to manage than he suspected any of them had planned.
Dale’s gaze shifted from Jenny to him. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything.” He exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
“Do you think you can manage a shower? Or would you prefer a bath, Jenny?”
“A shower.”
He pushed the toilet lid down, then sat her on top of it. “Let me get the water warmed up for you.”
She folded her arms beneath her bikini-clad breasts, looking peeved at her inability to enjoy “their honeymoon.”
He patted her leg, attempting to reassure her, then stuck his head behind the opaque, tropical fish shower curtain, and turned the water on.
“I must be a real disappointment to you, Allan.”
He pulled his head out of the shower, the warm spray splashing into the porcelain tub. The idea the woman who intrigued him to the nth degree thinking she was a disappointment bothered him. “Listen, you’re a really sweet woman, Jenny. It’s just that I’m getting over a…”
Her eyes grew big.
He cursed silently. “I meant to say your being injured has really affected me.” God, everything about the woman affected him.
“Is the water warm?” Her words were ice cold. The tone of her voice indicated she didn’t believe anything he said when it came to her.
He was blowing the case big time. But he couldn’t help it. Being next to the woman was causing cataclysmic reactions to his body. The temptation to take advantage of her, overwhelmed him. No matter how he tried to view it otherwise, that’s what it would be.
“Yes, the water’s warm.”
She grabbed his arm and pulled herself up.
“You’re not very steady on your feet.” No matter what, he didn’t want her slipping and falling and injuring herself again. He could just see it, she’d break a leg and then where would they be?
“I’ll be fine.”
Not sure she really would be okay, he helped her into the bathtub. She held onto him with a death grip, and her whole frame shook. He was torn between staying to ensure she didn’t collapse and leaving like he knew he should. Though another part of his body willed him to join her in the shower.
If he’d been her husband, he would never have let go. But he wasn’t and when she learned the truth, she’d be furious. Best to leave things as they were.
With mixed regret, he pulled the shower curtain shut. “I’ll be right here, if you need me.”
She never said a word. One piece of her wet bathing suit dropped in the bathtub, then the other. He closed his eyes, visualizing the soap sliding over her nude body, both the tanned parts and the sensuous white strips that highlighted her treasures.
It took forever for her to finish showering, and when she turned the water off, he handed her a towel without looking.
She yanked the curtain open, but grabbed his arm to help steady herself as she climbed out of the tub. Dressed in nothing but the white towel with her hair dripping over her shoulders was killing him.
“I suppose you’ll want to sleep on the couch tonight, too.” She looked over at him. The scowl on her face hurt him to the core. If he told her the truth now—he gritted his teeth—it couldn’t be done.
He held her arm as she walked into the bedroom. “I planned to so that you’d get a better sleep.” He studied her to see her reaction.
Her brow remained creased. “I need something for the pain in my head.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be right back.”
Allan closed the door to the bedroom, then headed for the kitchen.
The sun shone into a large picture window where a table for four sat in the dining area off the kitchen. Prominently displayed in the center of the whitewashed, oval oak table, a crystal pitcher of red hibiscus sat, courtesy of the Agency.
He crossed the floor and pulled the attached card off. To my beloved Jenny, Yours always, Allan. He shook his head. Damn! The quagmire got deeper and deeper, and he was falling right into the middle of it.
Dale’s footsteps caught his ear. He turned to face him.
Dale smiled, “Sorry, had to come back for some sodas. Not a bad assignment this time around, eh? Same time last year, you and I were dodging bullets outside of Cartagena, Columbia.”
“Whose idea was this?” Allan waved the card at Dale.
“The boss. You know, you’re supposed to do things like that for your wife. The flowers arrived while you were bathing Jenny.”
“She showered by herself.”
Dale grinned. “Yeah. So, how’s she doing?”
“A little shaky, and her head hurts.” Allan glanced back at the flowers and shook his head. “The boss is going to bury me alive on this one.” He pulled the bottle of prescription pills the doctor prescribed for her from the cabinet and poured two into his hand.
When he stepped out of the dining room, Dale said, “The flowers?”
“Ah, damn it, Dale.” Allan returned for the flowers, then walked back toward the room.
When he entered the bedroom, Jenny was already in bed, her hair still damp. The covers were tucked under her arms, shielding her breasts, but her shoulders were bare and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing from what he could see.
“Don’t you think you ought to put something on? A nightgown or something?” He set the flowers on the nightstand and handed her the pills.
“I don’t wear T-shirts to bed.”
For a moment, he hoped she was getting her memory back. His heart sped up. The truth could finally come out. “You remember?”
She wrinkled her forehead. “No, I don’t remember. Not for sure. But wearing a T-shirt to bed makes me feel like I’ve gone to bed in my outdoor clothes. I’d prefer something short and slippery.”
Yeah, just like the nightie she’d been wearing when he’d found her nearly dead. He strode to the dresser and pulled a drawer open, then another. After searching through all of them, he assumed the female agent who packed for Jenny must not have
thought anything she wore at night would be modest enough to wear around the male agents who would protect her.
“It seems that’s all you packed for the trip, Jenny.”
“You don’t know? Is that all I’ve ever worn to bed?”
“I guess I hadn’t noticed.” Like that could have been anywhere near the truth. Anything she wore caught his attention, even the baggy T-shirt she had worn earlier. As soon as he made the comment, he knew it was a major mistake.
“Are you gay?”
“Pardon?” He had heard what she had accused him of, but how in the world had he given her that impression? Just the way he kissed her in the ocean should have given her a clue as to how his body reacted to hers.
“I wondered if you’d just figured out you weren’t physically attracted to me. Hell, maybe you and Dale have a thing going.” Her voice sounded resigned, tired, slightly miffed. She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He tried not to sound annoyed. “No, I’m not gay.” And he had no intention of proving it to her either, as much as he wanted to. Then he noticed she still had the pills in the palm of her hand and realized she didn’t have anything to drink to wash them down. “I’ll get some water for you.”
“Make it a drink, something hard.”
He tried to ignore her words and the frustration in her voice as he exited the bedroom. He frowned at Dale who grinned at him big time. “What?” He crossed the floor to the kitchen.
“I think that might be the solution to our problem.”
Allan yanked a cabinet door open and reached for a glass. “What’s that?”
“You say you’re gay. We’ll work up a quickie divorce, and the boss will send Randy Stevens to replace you.”
“Over my dead body.”
“What? You don’t want to say you’re gay? Or you don’t want Randy to take your place?”
Allan dropped the glass in the sink by accident. Instantly, it shattered into several pieces of blue glass fragments. “Damn it, Dale.”
Dale chuckled. “Randy’s on his way here already. The boss feels you’re losing it on this case. Guess the divorce shook you up worse than you’ve been letting on. And your rescuing Jenny hasn’t helped matters one bit. You’re too emotionally involved in this case. Randy will step in, pretend to be an old friend or something, and help her to recover her memories. Then she can tell us why Thurman latched on to her.”