“Yes.”
His hands tightened briefly on her elbows, then relaxed. “Interesting.”
The longer she stood there, the more pronounced their size difference became. “Not to be rude or sound ungrateful, but could we have this little chat later? Like, when I’m dry and fully dressed.”
“You really can’t remember your name?”
She lifted her hands and covered her breasts. A stupid move, yes. He’d already seen all the goods. Not that he cared one wit. He didn’t appear to be staring anywhere but dead into her eyes.
“Trying the dry thing now would be good,” she said.
He reached behind her and turned off the water. “You’re saying you have amnesia?”
For a second she wondered if a person with a real case of amnesia would recognize the word amnesia. Deciding that type of thinking would drive her nuts, she answered, “Yes.”
“Seems a bit convenient.”
The least the guy could do was have the decency to look a little worried about her made-up amnesia story. “There’s nothing convenient about not knowing who you are.”
He stepped out of the tub and grabbed up a towel for her. “Here. Dry off. We need to pump some heat into you and then…”
“Yes?” she asked, a bit concerned about what the rest of his sentence could be.
“Find some clean clothes for both of us. I’m guessing you’d like to be dressed when we talk.”
She’d rather skip the talking part. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever it is you’re running from.”
Wariness washed over her. This time not about being naked, although she wasn’t real fond of that either. The heart-to-heart he had planned was the bigger problem. She’d made a promise to her mother, although in her mother’s catatonic state, she likely didn’t understand the vow. But that wasn’t the point. Annie had enough guilt for a lifetime without failing her mother a second time.
He turned away and lifted an oversized terry cloth robe off the back of the door. “Once you’ve settled in, we’ll get to the bottom of who you are.”
“I told you—” Whatever she was going to say stuck in her throat when he cuddled her in the warm material and gently tucked in the loose ends between her breasts.
“You can explain why you’re in Hawaii, what you were doing on the beach and how you got there,” he continued.
Now that the uncertainty about her safety with him had eased, she could focus on his habit of interrupting. Very annoying.
Other aspects about him were annoying, but for a different reason. Being soaking wet, his jeans clung to his body. Water dripped down his bare chest and lean frame, forming a puddle on the bath mat. When he wiped a hand through his damp hair, stray ends stood up straight. For some reason, the goofy look worked on him.
Shame she couldn’t say the same thing about the intelligence lingering behind those dark eyes. He was going to be a problem. Hard to fool.
Time to leave. She had to track down the yacht and find her camera. Out of habit, she carried around her photography equipment wherever she went. Being separated from it made her nervous.
“I think it would be better if I got back and left you to your life,” she said.
A sly grin tugged on the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know who you are or how you got here. Hard to imagine you know where you’re going.”
She clenched at the cotton gathered between her breasts and adjusted the rest of the robe to make sure everything important stayed under wraps. “I meant that I should check in with the police. Look for a bag or some other type of identification, that kind of thing.”
His smile beamed now. “You’re in luck.”
Lucky, right. That was how she felt. “How exactly?”
“I’m the police.”
Her stomach dipped to the floor and took up residence there. “Excuse me?”
“I’m Police Chief of Kauai County.”
“County?”
“That’s a fancy way of saying Kauai.”
“The entire island? That’s not possible.” Please have that not be possible.
“I promise it’s true. I attended the swearing-in ceremony.”
The last thing she wanted was to talk with a police officer. She was operating under the radar on this. She didn’t want justice. She wanted revenge and didn’t plan to walk within the lines of the law to get it.
“Show me your badge.” She wouldn’t know a fake badge from a real one, but the request seemed like one a smart woman would make.
He grabbed a black leather billfold from the vanity and flipped it open. Shiny badge. He flicked it closed again before she could read the name.
“You wanted me. Here I am and with all the time in the world to listen to what you have to say.” He paused, drawing out his comment. “Let’s get to those questions.”
“But…” That was all she had. The rest of the sentence just kind of died in the air.
He snatched up a towel and draped it over his shoulders. “Including your name.”
“I don’t—”
“Remember? Yeah, heard you the first seven times.” He grabbed both ends of the towel and pulled it taut against his neck. “I just don’t believe you.”
The man was as smart as he looked, which was a damn shame.
Chapter 3
Copper. Out on the beach Kane had wondered. Looking at the mystery woman standing on his bath mat, now he knew. Her hair fell in loose copper-colored curls around her shoulders, drying as he watched. Those green eyes were the color of the grass in spring. The brightness a perfect opposite to her creamy pink-hued skin.
Lovely and delicate. A beautiful woman.
Except for the lying. She had not uttered a single truthful sentence since he dumped her in the shower and forced her out of her fake slumber.
His robe dwarfed her petite frame, making her look sweet and vulnerable. After talking with her for five minutes, he knew that was a sham, too. This woman could hold her own.
Now he had to see if she could tell the truth.
“I’m ready when you are,” he said.
She clenched the robe even tighter against her breasts. “You can look somewhere else. I’m not interested.”
It took a few seconds for her comment to settle in. When the words hit him, so did a twinge of guilt. The woman likely suffered from something, even if that something was her own stupidity. No wonder she expected the worst from him.
“I’m not offering,” he said, hoping to ease her concern.
“Keep it that way, or I strangle you with this belt.” She twirled the material a bit.
He wondered if she realized the move looked more like a striptease than a threat. The direction of his thoughts confirmed what he already knew—three months was too long to go without a woman. He’d started seeing sexual overtones everywhere, even from a nearly drowned woman.
He exhaled for emphasis. “Look, Trixie, we have a problem.”
“Trixie?”
“Do you prefer Fern?”
“To what?” She stopped twirling the belt.
“I don’t know. Mabel?”
“Who?”
“Or is it Bertha?”
A flush settled over her cheeks. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about.”
Somehow he didn’t believe that either. He’d been in law enforcement in some form or another since turning twenty-one. That amounted to fifteen years of intuition and experience. During his time with the Drug Enforcement Agency he’d seen everything. Tracked down money and drugs. Dodged bullets and knives. Hell, he’d broken unbreakable perps. Same with his current position with the police department.
This lady put on a good front, but she was playing some sort of game just like the rest of them. He just had to figure out which one.
“We’re still working on your name,” he said as he towel dried his hair. “I see you as a Gertrude.”
She clenched her teeth together so hard his gums ached in sympathy. A lot of anger brewed under the surfac
e with this one. He filed that information away for later.
“I told you I don’t remember my name. Why don’t you believe me?”
He threw the balled-up towel on the counter. “Maybe because you’re lying.”
She gasped.
Her acting needed some work, but he appreciated the effort. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re doing a convincing job, but the I-don’t-remember thing is getting old.”
She waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture, one that came very close to giving him the finger. When she did it a second time, he figured she was giving him the finger.
“Think whatever you want,” she said as she curled her bare toes into his bath mat.
He couldn’t figure out if she was cold or trying to hide her shocking pink nail polish. “Right. The amnesia. Any other disease or afflictions you’re pretending to have? Just so I’m prepared.”
The stain on her cheeks deepened. “For a supposed police officer you don’t seem all that concerned about the fact I nearly drowned.”
That thought sobered him. Despite everything else, trouble barked at her heels. “If you tell me how you got in the water, I can help. I can’t do anything until you level with me.”
“I have.”
“Look, Fern—”
She lost some of her cool and started shouting. Even stomped one of those bare feet against the small carpet square. “Stop calling me that.”
“It could be your name.”
“It’s not.”
Tweaking her temper came easy. “You’re saying you know what your name isn’t?”
“That’s right.”
He’d received medical training. Knew how to identify injuries. “Did you read that in a book?”
“When?”
“Whenever you dreamed up this story.”
“I was too busy drinking in buckets of saltwater and swimming for my life to read or dream anything.”
“Touché.” He grabbed his shield off the counter. “Let’s go.”
“I’m done showering, thanks.”
“To my bedroom.” He reached for her elbow.
She backed away and evaded his grasp. “Look, I’m not—”
“Not for that.” The thought of a mutual and hot “that” had been hovering at the back of his mind ever since he stepped into the shower and felt her soft skin pressing against him.
Not about her. About any woman. Now that she’d brought the idea out into the open, he wouldn’t be able to block it again until he found a woman to scratch that itch. Preferably one who could tell the truth for more than three minutes at a time.
“We’re going to change,” he said.
“If by that you mean change into someone less annoying, I’m all for it.” She motioned for him to go first.
He figured the biting remarks were a defense mechanism. Either that or her entire personality consisted of sarcasm. “You need to stay in my line of sight.”
“I’m still not interested,” she grumbled.
“Me either.”
“Right.” She shot a bug-eyed glance at his zipper.
As far as he was concerned, she needed to keep his pants out of this. And stop looking. That type of encouragement he did not need.
He exhaled again to let her know his frustration, hoping this time she would get the hint. “I’m in wet jeans. Not comfortable. I need to get out of them and into something else so we can figure out what to do with you.”
“You’re not doing anything with me.”
“I’m going to gag you in a minute.” This time he caught her elbow before she could move away. “Since you strike me as a runner, you’re coming with me.”
He started to guide her down the short hallway. After two steps, her sharp intake of breath stopped him. “What’s wrong now?”
She leaned down to rub her leg through the robe. “You make it sound as if I complain all the time.”
“That’s been my experience so far.”
“Yeah, well, my knee hurts. Pain makes me grumpy.”
Damn, she was hurt. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
He watched her massage her leg. “How can you not know?”
This time she was the one who sighed. “I was in that water for heaven knows how long. Maybe an animal bit me.”
“Animal?”
“Fish? Mammal? Big-toothed water predator? Whatever crawls around in the water.”
“Since you still have a leg, we can rule out shark. Not sure what crawling creatures you’re referring to, but let me see.” He dropped to his knees to inspect the injury. His fingertips barely touched the robe before she snapped the terry cloth back and away from his hands.
“I don’t think so.” She said a few other words, all profane and none in sentence form.
“What has gotten into you?”
“You.”
This would teach him to rescue a woman in need. “What did I do?”
“Stand up. Now.” She grabbed the edges of the robe and pulled the material tight against her legs in a big bunch. One hand clamped against the material at her breasts; the other held the wad around her knees. The contortion shielded every inch of bare skin except her neck, calves and feet.
The lack of trust irked him. “I’m a professional.”
“Uh-huh. Get up.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Nice try.” She waved a finger—this time not her middle one—in his face.
“You could have a serious injury. Something that requires immediate attention.” He doubted that. More likely a sprain, but he should check it out to be sure. Maybe get her to a clinic or the emergency room.
“You’ve seen and felt enough. No more freebies. Thanks anyway.” A dull red stained her cheekbones.
“What if—”
“No.”
He blew out a breath. “I’ve seen you naked.”
“That’s my point. Show-and-tell hour is over.”
She stayed calm when he saw her without clothes on and went wacky when he touched her knee. Women were bizarre creatures. Not exactly news to him, but still.
“Fine. You win.” He held up his hands in surrender because conceding proved to be the easiest choice.
“Good.”
“For now.” He jumped to his feet and guided her down the rest of the short hallway to his bedroom. To keep the damage to a minimum, he balanced most of her weight on his arm.
Not that there was much to her. She probably clocked in at five-six or-seven and a hundred twenty pounds. Slim and small boned despite having some height on her. But at six-two he towered over her. The vantage point gave him a front-row view of the smooth skin at the tops of her breasts. The lawman in him looked away, but the man part snuck a peek or two.
As they walked through the doorway he tried to see the room through her eyes. Probably best described as practical and sparse. Nothing special or fancy about the mattress and frame on the floor or the oak dresser and nightstand.
He was a simple man with simple tastes. The room reflected his no-nonsense view of life. Getting tied to material objects went against his personal philosophy. The land, family and hard work mattered. It had taken losing almost all of his family for him to realize that fundamental truth.
Trade winds blew through the open window, cooling the two-bedroom house and filling the room with the scent of white ginger. Like everywhere else on Kauai, flowers bloomed in colorful disarray right under his window despite his tendency to ignore them. His front lawn consisted mostly of sand. Low maintenance for a man who rarely spent time at home.
Make that a man who used to rarely spend time at home. Right now he spent all of his time at home or on the beach or over on Oahu visiting his nephew at college.
Six days of vacation left. Today he’d found a woman. He could hardly wait to see what washed up on shore tomorrow.
“You could have left me in the bathroom,” she said as she came to a halt in the middle of the room. “It’s not as if I hav
e anywhere to go.”
He set her down on the edge of the bed and turned to search through his dresser drawer. “A very rational argument.”
“Then?” She massaged her knee.
He made a mental note to double check the injury and wrap up her leg later. “No.”
“Why not?”
He almost chuckled at the disbelief in her voice. “For starters, I don’t trust you.”
“You’re not exactly Mr. Sunshine yourself. Working on that bedside manner of yours wouldn’t be a waste of your time.”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“So you treat all crime victims this way?”
He caught the slip. “What crime?”
The color seeped from her cheeks. “Huh?”
Now he was getting somewhere. “You. Victim. Crime. Those were all your words.”
“Well, I…ummm, since I washed up—”
This time he did smile. Couldn’t help it. She flipped from sassy to flustered in a second. If she balled her fists together any tighter on her lap, she might break a finger or two.
“Still waiting on a full sentence, Fern.”
Her toes curled again. This time, she buried the tops in the carpet just under the bed. “My name’s not Fern.”
“Right.”
“I’d know if that were my name.”
He kept his hands low behind his back to hide his surprise from her. If he lifted his palm, she’d be able to see him in the mirror set above the chest of drawers. “Try again on the victim issue.”
He could actually see her mind working and waited for the next lie. Instead, calm washed over her. She sat up straight, clear-eyed and ready for verbal battle, as if she’d made some internal decision.
For some reason the change in her demeanor made him nervous as hell.
She shrugged. “I just figured if I was in the water, I must have been there by nefarious means,” she said.
“Nefarious?”
“It means—”
He held up a palm. “You don’t need to whip out the dictionary. I know what the word means. My point was that you could have been in the water for any number of innocent reasons, like swimming or boating.”
“Naked?”
“Maybe you were skinny dipping?”
“I doubt it.”
“You immediately assume something bad happened.” So had he. An occupational hazard. Consistent with his life experience, too.
Your Mouth Drives Me Crazy Page 2