by Mindy Neff
And now he was here, in her arms. She felt a pang of anger over the deception, and just as quickly it died. He, too, had suffered.
“I have so many questions. I know I told you that love doesn’t ask why, but I think in this instance I need to know.”
He propped himself against the carved mahogany headboard, taking her with him, holding her against his side.
“I told you I was in law enforcement. That much was true. I worked for the FBI. The summer we spent together, I was on vacation. When I left you that day, I thought it’d be a routine day back at work. Nothing out of the ordinary. So when I was asked to transport a package to the main lab, I didn’t think twice. And I didn’t bother to ask what was in it. Do you remember that day?”
“Yes. September 10. It was raining. I remember thinking that September shouldn’t be so gray and gloomy.”
He nodded. “The rain kept up into the night. I started to call you, but I’d already told you I’d be gone for a few days. I was tired, and it was late. The windshield wipers could hardly keep up with the downpour. Then a dog darted out in my headlights. I was punchy, I guess. I yanked the wheel too hard, went into a spin, then overcorrected. My car hit a tree.”
“Oh, Adam.”
“The next thing I knew, a month had passed and I was in a government hospital. I was in a coma.”
“So that explains it. I called all the hospitals in the area. They had no record of you. I fell apart, Adam. Each day it got worse. I couldn’t work…I thought you’d been toying with me, that it was just a summer romance—”
“No, baby. Never that.” His fingers, absently stroking her hair, stilled.
“But you let them tell me you were dead!”
She saw his jaw tighten, knew his reasons without him having to tell her—he’d called himself a freak. Later, she promised herself. Later she was going to slug this man. But not now. Not when she was holding him again after so long.
“What about your face?” She touched his cheek, his brow, wanting to kiss away the scars. “Why is it so different?”
“You don’t want to know too many of those details. Let’s just say there wasn’t a lot to work with after the accident. Bone structure had to be rebuilt. This is what I ended up with.”
“It’s very nice. Beautiful.”
He snorted.
“To me, it is,” she said softly. “It confuses me, though. You feel like Jason. But you look like Adam.”
“I am Adam. That was my middle name. I just dropped the first one.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted a new identity. I wanted out.” His arm tightened around her shoulder. “I’d planned to resign even before the accident.”
“I remember,” she said softly. “And now you have.”
“But not for the same reasons.” For several moments, he didn’t speak. Then his chest rose on an inhaled breath.
“They say I was clutching the package when they found me. There was a capsule in that package, an unidentified chemical. It didn’t belong to the U.S., but they damned sure wanted to identify it, break it down.”
“And did they?”
“No. When I left the hospital, there was still part of the formula missing. We’ve got great technology, but so far our lab boys haven’t come up with the right combination.”
“Is that what’s changed you so?”
“That’s a polite way of putting it, Molly. The stuff entered my system and made me a freak. Some sort of interaction took place when the substance came in contact with the metal pins in my shoulder.”
“The injury you were healing from when we were together.”
He nodded. “They’ve removed the metal, but it hasn’t made a difference. Any time emotion zings me or my adrenaline pumps, something shifts inside of me. My fight-or-flight impulses have gone haywire. I guess I can be thankful that my clothes don’t rip off or my skin doesn’t turn green when it happens.”
“Adam, for heaven’s sake. It’s not that bad. We can live with it.”
He stiffened. “No.”
She rose, propping her palm against his chest, curling her fingers into the mat of dark brown hair. “Don’t you dare do this to me.”
His jaw clenched. “I have no choice. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it happen. There is no future for us, Molly.”
“How can you say that?” She wanted to hit him, but her arms felt paralyzed. “You loved me before. I know you did!”
“Damn it, Molly.” He jerked away from her, putting distance between them, both emotional and physical. Naked, he rose from the bed and strode to the window. “I can’t give you what you need. I can’t give you a future.”
His shoulders slumped. “I can’t guarantee you I won’t be dead tomorrow!”
Chapter Nine
Molly sucked in a breath on a wave of pain so strong she nearly doubled over. “But you said they were working on a cure! You can’t be sure—”
“I’ve checked, Molly.” His fists clenched at his sides. “I called the lab last week—for all the good it did me. The prognosis was worse than before. The adrenaline surges will eventually wear out my body. They’re not offering me hope…or an estimate for life expectancy.”
“No,” she moaned, low and agonized, like a mortally wounded animal. She wrapped her arms around herself, holding on. “I’ve just found you again. I can’t lose you!”
“Hell, I’m a bastard,” he said, his voice sounding weary, so desperately alone. “Now do you see why this was such a mistake?” He gestured toward the rumpled sheets of the bed, still warm from their overheated bodies. “I was selfish. I took from you, revealed my identity, knowing I could give you nothing in return.”
“But you can,” she cried, rising from the bed, unselfconscious of her nudity. She needed to hold him, be held in return. “You can give me whatever time you have left. Don’t you see, Adam? I never got to say goodbye before. I never had any closure. I couldn’t hold your hand or touch your body or watch them lay you to rest. I could only torture myself with thoughts and images.”
“And you think it’ll be easier the next time around? Because you can watch?”
“Yes. That might sound morbid to you, but it’s true. Don’t deny us this time, Adam. I know about your gifts—”
He snorted. “Some gifts.“
She ignored his sarcastic interruption. “You only use your strength for a good cause. And just think of all the misunderstandings we can avoid with your ability to read my mind.”
He frowned. “I’m not following your logic.”
“That’s just it. If you don’t understand my logic, all you have to do is listen. Silently.” She was fighting for her life. For their lives. She’d already faced the tears, more than her share of pain. The winds of her heart might have blown her down on occasion, but she’d gotten back up, stood her ground—just as she intended to do now.
They’d been given a second chance; she wouldn’t let him run from her. She understood the loneliness she’d seen in his eyes, the solitariness. And the force of that understanding shook her.
She slid her hands up his chest, cupped his beautiful, somber face between her palms, saw his pupils dilate when she pressed her naked body to his. “Listen, Adam.”
And he did, staring into her eyes. Just as she’d hoped, desperation and sadness slowly softened into reluctant amusement.
“Like that, half pint?” She felt his heartbeat pick up the rhythm of hers. “I’m shocked at you.”
She smiled, the seductive smile of a siren, a siren who would go to any lengths to hold on to what was hers—to hold on to her love.
“Come back to bed, Adam, and I’ll show you just how shameless I can be.”
SHE WATCHED HTM SLEEP, afraid she’d never be able to close her eyes again, afraid to miss even a second of their life together.
He had the bravest of hearts, the strongest of souls. How could he even function with the loneliness that hung over him like a dark cloud? When he expected to lo
se everything—his life—at any moment?
No more, she vowed. Never again would this beautiful man face the night alone. Because now he was here with her. Maybe he hadn’t intended it, but his heart had cried out to her, whispered her name. Not a shout—only a feeling. And because of that, because of her love, she would be there for him every step of the way, with every beat of her heart, with every breath that she took—whether it was a single day or a handful of years.
Somehow she would will him to live. They’d crossed the first hurdle. She’d reached out and he’d taken. And because of that courage, she would be his rock.
She snuggled down beside him, wrapping her arms around him as if she could absorb all his worry and pain into her. From now on, she’d risk anything, everything, body and soul, just to hold on all night, to never, ever let him go.
“WHAT HAPPENED to your heart?” Molly asked, touching the charm at her own neck. “The one that matches mine?” They’d finally decided to dress after a weekend of lovemaking. It was as if they were in a race against time. A race against a potential killer substance in Adam’s body.
A race to cram a lifetime of living into uncertain, short days.
He zipped his jeans and reached for his wallet on the dresser. Opening it, he pulled out the symbolic charm.
“You have it,” she whispered, her hands going still over the safety pin she’d used to repair the rip in her zipper.
“The chain was broken in the accident. I thought I’d lost this, too, but Frank had it.”
“The man who called me?”
“Yeah.”
“Was he your partner?”
“That and more. I was a kid pretty much like Lamar or Eddie, one of those kids who could have gone bad if somebody hadn’t cared enough to step in and straighten me out. Frank did that for me. He cared. He became my legal guardian, my father and my friend.”
Molly smiled softly. “I’d like to meet him someday.” She saw his shoulders jerk and closed her eyes against the stubbornness in him she was determined to overcome.
“I’m starving,” she said to distract them both. “Is there any food in this underfurnished castle?” So far, they’d been surviving on cold pizza, the pizza she’d brought with her Friday night and forgotten about until the next day.
“There’s probably some eggs and stuff in the fridge, but why don’t we go out? We could probably both do with some fresh air.”
“Wore you out, did I?”
He stepped up behind her, easing the makeshift zipper into place, trailing his hands over her shoulders, his lips following, nipping at her neck. “Not likely, half pint. With you, I’ve got enough stamina for two men.”
The instant he said the words, reality intruded. Hell, he had enough stamina for a hundred men. A stamina that could vanish just like that.
He met her cinnamon eyes in their reflection in the dresser mirror. As much as she wanted him to stay, he knew he’d have to leave her. She wanted to hold his hand in death. He didn’t know if he could take that, to see the sorrow on her face. Somehow he had to get her to promise to get on with her life when he was no longer here.
Right now, with his hands resting on her silken skin, he couldn’t abide the thought of another man touching her, another man basking in her laughter and sunshine. When his bones were turned to ashes, though, he wouldn’t know.
He had no idea if death would come like a thief in the night or if he’d linger for months, perhaps years. But the thought of being weak and helpless, dependent on her compassion and loyalty as he lay wasting away, was intolerable.
Why couldn’t they have given him answers? He’d spent the promised eleven months, being poked and prodded, performing like a circus animal. And it hadn’t gotten him squat—other than a great deal of sympathy and respect for those innocent lab mice.
Still, he needed to make some plans, get his affairs in order—as Malcolm had gravely suggested. He didn’t want Molly to watch him die.
So he would leave, just as soon as he knew she was taken care of.
His finger traced the broken zipper of her dress, the zipper he’d unintentionally ripped in a moment when he’d forgotten to temper his strength.
“Maybe we should stop by your place before we go out in public. This safety pin looks a little shaky. One deep breath, and it’ll pop.”
She smiled. “Is that your polite way of saying I’m falling out of my dress?”
“I love the way you fall out of your dress.” His hands eased around to cup her breasts. The feel of her was sweet torture. Sure, he’d made up his mind to leave. But he still had time. And he was enough of a bastard, selfish enough to want to snatch every second of that time left.
“Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, Adam,” she warned, her brown eyes dilated, her lips moist and parted.
“You’re right. Food first. Sex later.”
She let her breath out slowly, and he grinned. Damn, he’d missed her.
As they started for the stairs, Molly paused, opening the closed door opposite his bedroom. He loved her innate curiosity, the way she made his head spin in her rush to experience every sensation, every new twist or turn, the way her sharp mind jumped from one thought to the next, planning, wondering, discarding, deciding.
This room was one that did hold some of his personal belongings. His weight-lifting equipment.
He saw her expressive eyebrows arch at the sight of the two-hundred-pound barbells that were curved rather than straight.
He shrugged. “Weight lifting was a part of my life that I used to enjoy.”
“And you thought you needed to test your strength?”
“No. I thought it would relax me. But my mind wandered, and my thoughts went haywire. Next thing I knew, the damned things were bent like a pretzel.”
Her sudden burst of laughter took him right out of his self-disgust and pumped his ego up faster than a shot of steroids. “What in the world were you thinking about, Adam?”
His eyes locked with hers. “You.”
He heard the little hitch in her breath, saw her chest rise. Knew her thoughts as if she’d shouted them.
“Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head. “Even Superman needs to eat sometime. Let’s get out of here.”
“Well, if you’re certain.” She brushed by him, giving his biceps a quick squeeze, her cinnamon eyes sparkling. “Sexy as all get-out, if you ask me.”
THEY DROVE up the coast with the T-top off the Porsche, to a little seaside café they’d been to before. The memories were as warm and faithful as the spring sunshine, washing over her, holding all the ugliness at bay. Here, by the sea, it was a different world, a world surrounded by swaying palms and the roar of the surf, of not-so-white sand and kamikaze sea gulls. It was a day for lovers to walk hand in hand or ride tandem on bicycles. A day to just be. To play.
“I want to deed the house over to you.”
Molly’s eyes rounded, stunned. “Why?”
“Because you were right. It’d make a perfect refuge for teens.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the thought of her dream being within grasp. At least, one of her dreams, she thought, the wings of excitement taking a dive. “But…why would the deed need to be in my name?”
“In case something happens to me. It’s what I’d planned for all along, the reason I bought the place. To give it to you. The stipulation’s in my will, but it’ll make it easier on you if we do a title transfer ahead of time.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Adam. You’re invincible.”
The words hung between them. A bravado that had no foundation.
“Molly—”
“Don’t, Adam. Not today. It’s too beautiful.” She rose and held out her hand, noticing he’d already taken care of the breakfast bill and included a generous tip. “I want to kick my shoes off and walk barefoot in the surf. I don’t get down this way too often.”
He took her hand, his eyes telling her that reality would have to be faced s
oon, but that he’d give her today.
The shifting sand was warm beneath her feet. They had to pick their way around the bits of litter and broken glass. It was awful the way people had so little respect for the beaches, how they could, without thought, clutter up the beautiful, tranquil playground.
Grasping the sleeve of Adam’s T-shirt, she skirted a jagged bottle, then shrieked with pure delight as he swooped her in his arms and jogged the last few yards to the surf. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hair streaming over his arm, flying in the breeze. And she laughed—at the pure joy of being in Adam’s arms, at the joy of spending the day with this man, in a setting she loved, in a place straight out of her own private fairy tales.
She buried her lips in his neck, inhaling his masculine scent.
I love you. The words trembled on her lips, but she left them unsaid. At one time, they would have tumbled easily and often, been accepted and returned. Now they would more than likely get in the way.
And today she wanted nothing to get in their way.
He knew her heart, and that was enough. Because right now they were on shaky ground. The despair still pulled him, threatening to take him from her. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d talked about deeding the house to her. And she couldn’t let that happen. She intended to hold him with all her might, be his strength, his salvation—his woman.
Be there when he reached for someone in the night, to chase away the nightmares and hold the uncertain future at bay.
“You can’t take the whole world on your shoulders, half pint.”
He set her down, the hard-packed sand now cool beneath her feet. Foamy surf swirled around her bare ankles, then ebbed out, sucking the foundation of sand from beneath her feet. She held on to Adam, determined to shore up their foundation.
“I can try. I might be little—”
“But you’re mighty,” he finished for her, his eyes telling her he shared her memories, cherished them, cherished her. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do. Absolutely you do.” She tugged at his hand, pulling him with her along the ocean’s edge.