“Not yet. It might be the kid they charged with arson, or it could be somebody entirely different. If I could find the reporter, I might be able to get more information from him, but he seems to have vanished too.”
“What have you learned?”
“There have been no more major fires since Karen disappeared, only a couple of little ones that might just have been accidents—until yours.”
“What about the arsonist?”
“You mean the alleged arsonist, Miles Lambert, the poor little rich boy? His father practically owns the town of Silver Lake. The family goes back to the town’s founder, Miles the first. Money, position, you get the idea.”
“Yeah, I got the idea. A poor little rich kid who gets his jollies setting fires. So where is he now?”
“Miles has been in and out of trouble since he was a child. They’ve had him in counseling, special schools, you know the routine. After the fire, the family shipped him off to one of those sanitariums. But he’s not there now and nobody seems to know where he is.”
“Great. What about Karen’s family? I know her father is dead. But there may be a mother somewhere.”
“My sources seem to think she’s dead too. Interesting history there. After her husband’s death, the mother gradually became more and more unstable. Papa left some money, but eventually, when Karen graduated high school, she sold the family farm just outside of Wilton and she and her mother disappeared. Nobody in her hometown had seen her for years until the story about the Silver Lake fires hit the news. I’m doing some more looking.”
“And Mercy General, is it surviving my absence?”
“Aside from the fact that they can’t believe you’d let anything come between you and your work, everything seems to be going along as usual. They’ve posted a guard in your lab, just in case the arsonist decides you might be hiding out there.”
“So we have somebody looking for Karen, somebody who knows she’s with me, but we don’t know who it is. If I were in my lab and had two possible answers, I’d have to set up a blind study to prove the truth.”
“Whoa! You’ve lost me there, Niko. What does that mean?”
“Simple, we’ll set a trap for our unknown and wait for him to walk into it.”
“And how do we do that?”
Niko thought for a moment. “Issue a press release that I will be attending that hospital fund-raiser tomorrow night. And send word back to the sheriff in Silver Lake that Karen has been found and will be returning home.”
“And what’s that going to do for us?”
Niko laughed. “Raise a lot of money for Hope House and start the homefolks to worrying. We’ll see what happens then.”
“And what about Karen? Don’t you think you’re taking a chance with her safety?”
That sobered Niko. Yes, he was taking a chance, but it was the only way he could see to find the answer. “Mac, I have to tell you that I may have already done damage to Karen. The only way this situation is going to reach a conclusion is by facing it straight on.”
“This sounds ominous, my friend. Explain.”
“You know I had to tell Karen that she and I were more than friends to bring her out of the coma. I think she believed me in the beginning because she needed to believe. Now—there’s nobody out here but us.”
“So she still hasn’t regained her memory?”
“It’s coming back, but it’s not completely there yet. She’s holding back the final piece. Logically I know we ought to stay until we know what she’s scared of. That way you can find a way to deal with it. But until then … well, it’s becoming a problem.”
“For whom? Her or you?”
Niko swore. “Me.”
“So, do you want to come out here to the sanctuary? Shangrila is safe. I’ll send a plane for you if you like.”
“No thanks. The last time I came to Angel Central I lost my … my patient. I’ll take my chances here. But you’ll have to send a car to pick us up.”
“What happened to the Bronco?”
“It got arrested. I don’t have time to bail it out. Can you find another angel with a four-wheel drive?”
“I think so.”
“Then, unless I call you and cancel, have him meet us here tomorrow at noon.” He gave Mac the directions and was about to hang up, when Mac stopped him.
“By the way, Niko, there’s something I just have to ask. Do you know anything about a kinky doctor at Mercy General who pays big money for old house shoes?”
Karen had cleaned up the kitchen, pulled out steaks to thaw for supper, and made herself a ham sandwich to go along with the cocoa for lunch. Now she wandered through the empty rooms, opening curtains and blinds and humming to break the silence.
Humming Irish lullabies, trying not to remember.
She didn’t want to think about it, but the continuing memory of fire slashed through her mind, and screams, horrible screams of those caught in it. And a man—a man she couldn’t quite make out. But one thing was certain. She’d seen someone set a building on fire, someone who’d run away.
Someone who was a threat.
But the memory ended there. She couldn’t put a face on the man, and the reporter who’d been the reason for her head injury was only a voice that frightened her. Beyond that, there was nothing more, nothing except the recurring dream of a Gypsy on a white horse and a love affair that had become more real than whatever life she’d been living.
Now the dream had become real. Her Gypsy had come back for her and brought her to Slade Island. Niko had hinted that in Gypsy lore her entry into his life was part of some plan. Now he’d learn about the fire and her past, but she didn’t think he’d understand the danger he might be in. And she couldn’t tell him, because she couldn’t remember.
There was nothing she could do until she got back, and that was driving her nuts. Having somebody else in charge of her life was the pits, even if it was a man who turned her into mush with nothing more than a smile.
She continued to pace, her nerves becoming more and more taut. Why had she insisted on going to an island, to a place where she couldn’t get away? Suppose Niko didn’t come back?
She threw more logs on the glowing coals and settled down in the oversized chair where Niko had placed her that first night.
She didn’t know how long she’d slept, when the ashes in the fireplace suddenly swirled as an errant blast of wind came down the chimney. The lodge creaked, bringing her to her feet.
Beyond the window Karen saw the frothy chop of the waves tumbling over one another as the rain began. No, not rain, she decided, as it slammed against the windows in a clatter, but fine sleet.
Where was Niko? Could he get back to the island through this weather?
She pulled on a yellow slicker and headed for the dock. The wind swirled the ice around, interspersed now with fine snow, obscuring the far shoreline entirely. He’d be lucky even to see the island.
Karen stood on the dock, searching. Nothing. She didn’t know how Niko felt about her, but in the short time they’d been together, she’d learned what it meant to find love and the strength either to accept it or turn away. It was her choice. And her choice was to let him know how she felt.
In a weird kind of way this whole experience was about choice. About hiding from the truth or forcing yourself to deal with it. She couldn’t be sure yet why she’d left Minnesota, but she’d have to face the consequences of that decision. She didn’t know where her relationship with Niko would go, but if it ended, he’d have to be the one to do it.
If he came back.
But first she had to find out what had sent her away from the life she’d known.
Until she got off the island, she’d just have to manage. She might lose the electricity because she had no idea how to replenish the fuel that operated the generator. But the tank of oil should hold if she turned the thermostat way down and used the heat sparingly. She could cook, and with the fireplace, she could stay warm.
And she cou
ld wait.
NINE
Friday the 13th—plus three days—Slade Island
The wind began to die, bringing a strange calm to the area. Karen couldn’t decide whether the slowing of the storm made her more or less afraid.
Niko had been gone for hours. Suppose whoever was after her had found him? Not being able to remember had been a personal issue before. Now she’d involved someone else. She was alone on the island with no telephone, no radio, and no boat. And she still wasn’t certain whom she was hiding from.
She wandered to the window and glanced out. She could see the path leading down to the dock and the river beyond. The water was still choppy, as it probably always was in winter. The day was gray, but there was no more rain or snow now. This time she could see the distant shoreline and the boat that bobbled toward Slade Island.
He was on his way back.
Or somebody was. She debated about hiding until she could identify the occupant of the boat and then decided that it didn’t matter. If it wasn’t Niko, whoever was in the boat would make short work of finding her. She had no place to hide. Besides, she was tired of hiding.
Quickly, she pulled on warm clothing and gloves and bounded down the path. At the dock she stood, her face into the wind, waiting for Niko. The man was so involved in docking the boat that she couldn’t identify him until he finally looked up.
“Niko.” She ran toward him. “You’re safe.”
For a moment they stood, not touching, feeling the wind-driven spray bead their faces. “I’m so glad you’re back.” She lifted her face to his.
“I’m—I’m glad too,” he said, refusing for a moment to lean down and give her the kiss she was asking for. Then she heard him groan as he reached out and pulled her close.
She threw her arms around him, holding him tight. His jacket was cold and damp. His hair, wet from the spray, curled around his Gypsy face. Black eyes, churning with emotion, held her gaze.
Karen sighed. Suddenly there was no ice, no wind, no cold. They were two people who had become each other’s solace. He held her face between his hands and simply looked at her, every reservation, every joy, clearly spoken with his eyes.
And she loved him more than she’d ever thought possible. Love? Such a simple word, so easily used, so hard to understand. A fantasy was one thing, but no matter what happened, she knew now that what she felt for Niko far surpassed any dream she’d ever had. He’d forced her to reach out and grab that joy when she’d been determined to turn her back on her own needs. Then he’d risked everything to see that she survived.
Why?
What must it have taken to bring him back to this island? To see her at the very place where his sister had married a stranger.
But Niko had come back to the island, for her.
Why?
During the time they’d been together she’d gone from the depths of despair to the heights of passion. Like the woman in her dream, she’d let herself fall in love with a man whose love she might never have. God, it was so hard. She’d never expected love to be so painful.
There was a burning behind her eyes, a pain that cut through her. “Oh, Niko, thank you for bringing me here, but we should leave. You must go back to your work. And I have to go home to Minnesota and find out why I ran away.”
“Yes,” he said fiercely, “we have to leave here, but you can’t go home until we know the truth.”
She tried to turn her face away.
“No. Look at me. I didn’t protect my sister, but I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t.”
She couldn’t look at him without his knowing that she was in love with him. She didn’t expect him to feel the same way. Saving her had become, the driving force in Niko’s life. But it was duty, not love. He didn’t have to love her to want to make love to her. And she couldn’t fool him about her desire. Even she could hear the thrumming of her blood rushing through her veins.
“Let’s get inside, out of the cold.” He slid an arm around her waist and half lifted her up the path.
“But, Niko …”
They reached the porch and went inside.
“You don’t understand. I know now that it isn’t safe for you to be with me,” she said, intent on making him understand the danger. “I remember there was a fire. I saw the arsonist and he knows I saw him.”
Niko took her to the fireplace and let her go while he struggled out of his jacket and his sweater, all the time kissing every part of her face and neck.
“I know. I have a friend who works with a New York newspaper. When I was trying to find out about your background, I called him. He was able to find out what happened. You identified the firebug and he was going to jail.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid it might have sent you deeper into your flight from reality. I thought it would be better if it came back on its own.”
“I don’t know who he is, but he hurts people, Niko. I can’t let him hurt you.”
“No. We’ll stop him. But he isn’t here now. There’s only us.”
She looked up at his ferocious face, threading her fingers in his hair. His eyes were heavy-lidded and angry. “Niko,” she murmured, lost in the pull of the open need she saw.
“I made up my mind not to do this,” he said even as he pushed her jacket from her shoulders and pulled the blue sweater over her head. “There’s no room in my life for a personal relationship. I made a promise after my sister died that I’d never let myself get close to someone again. The price I paid for that promise was high.”
“I understand,” Karen murmured. “No more fantasy, Niko. Once we leave the island, we go back to our own lives. But we still have tonight.”
She felt the tightly leashed passion, felt his body tremble with need. Fantasy or fate, he wants me. And that’s enough for now. “Of all the men in all the world, it had to be you. Love me, Niko,” she whispered, and unfastened her jeans.
He was still the savage who sat on her bed, the sinner who warned her of his reputation, the Gypsy in her dream. But in the time they’d been together he’d become so much more. Once they left Slade Island, like Brigadoon, it would vanish in a puff of smoke. But tonight it was here. And tonight might be all they had.
Seconds later they were both naked, standing before the fire, absorbing the energy that radiated between them. Then Niko held out his hand, waiting, allowing her one last moment to refuse. She placed her hand in his and he drew her down to the mattresses.
She lay beside him, looking up at his strong face silhouetted against the fire.
“You are so handsome,” she murmured. “You take my breath away.”
“I’m the one who should be showering you with compliments, Karen. I’ve never been in”—the word love almost slipped out before he jerked it back, substituting—“bed with a princess.”
“The princess and the Gypsy,” she quipped. “Sounds like a best-selling novel to me.”
He leaned on one elbow, half lifting himself over her. “Oh, it’s a novel, all right, a contemporary novel where the man and woman make mad, passionate love even when they know they’re making a mistake.”
She winced. “Are we, Niko? Making a mistake?”
“Probably,” he admitted, and took her breast in his hand, lifting it so that he could take her nipple into his mouth. “In fact, I’m pretty damned sure of it.”
“Then we won’t finish the novel. That way we’ll never know.”
Mindlessly she pressed herself against him, feeling the stubble of his whiskers grazing her face, the hot pool of wetness between her legs. It was a shock when his fingers found the moisture and moved inside her to the source. “Niko,” she called out his name, both as a plea and a question.
With deep drugging kisses he erased her doubts, and then she forgot everything and gave herself to the Gypsy who’d come to her first in a dream.
She was so hot, her body writhing beneath his now. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful. Still, she
wanted more. Nothing else in her life had ever brought her to this glorious peak, had taken away her restraint, had sent her dangerously near the edge of the volcano.
His lips moved away from her mouth, branding her as they moved lower, across her chest, then back again to the place where he’d started. She clasped his neck, her nails dug into the area around his spine.
She stiffened. The churning inside her stomach and below threatened to explode, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Dimly she heard his agonized groan and felt him shudder.
And then it happened, as if for the first time. All the words in all the books she’d ever read had been pitiful attempts to describe emotions and feelings that were beyond words. Her bones and flesh had dissolved. She’d become the electricity shimmering in the air. Yet, at the same time she was lying on a mattress before a fire with her lover’s hard body collapsed on top of her. They were connected both physically and spiritually. Though there were tears in her eyes, she felt such joy, such a sense of completeness.
For a very long time they didn’t move. Then, as if dazed, Niko lifted his head and smiled.
“You don’t do that enough,” she said.
“That’s true. I can think of nothing more earth-moving than what we just did.” He kissed her cheek, nibbled at the corner of her mouth, then captured it again.
“No,” Karen said as he pulled away. “I meant smile like that. You rarely ever smile.”
“That too,” he agreed, recklessly disregarding every rule of conduct he’d made on his way back to the island. “Henceforth and forevermore, when you see me smile like that, you’ll know what I’m thinking. I’ll never smile again unless I’m loving you. I’ll buy this island and change its name. This is now officially Sandor Island. I’ll lock you in the tower room and keep you my prisoner forever.”
Caught up in the spirit, Karen laughed and pulled his lips back to hers. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Niko. I like it here just fine. You’re making it very hard for me to leave.”
If it were possible, his smile grew even more wicked, and that part of him which joined them together was a very firm confirmation of her words.
Mac's Angels : Sinner and Saint. a Loveswept Classic Romance (9780345541659) Page 12