by Billie Green
"Before death," he finished with a sardonic smile.
"Damn you!" she said, rounding on him. "Don't you dare smile. My God, you're a cold-blooded bastard. Can't you see I'm terrified? If anything happens, it's my fault. I'm the one who convinced you to leave."
His eyes narrowed speculatively. "Why would you do something like that?"
She rubbed her neck, avoiding his eyes. "I found out that people with your disease—Sutherland's Complex—only live for approximately two years after the first symptoms appear." She shrugged. "I decided ... I decided if you had to die, you should do it in freedom."
"You took a lot on yourself," he murmured, wondering about her motives. There was something she wasn't telling him. "Who's Ted?"
She looked exhausted as she brushed her hair back with one hand. "Dr. Ted Sutherland. He owns Greenleigh. He discovered your disorder and developed a drug that would halt its progress... temporarily."
He added the information to his scanty supply. For a few moments he was silent. Then he glanced up. "You sound sincere. In fact, you almost convince me—"
"Thank you so much," she muttered, her eyes blazing.
"—but not quite," he finished as though she hadn't spoken. "Too much doesn't fit. What kind of doctor would turn a patient over to a bookkeeper? And what about my father and Kyle? You're not trying to tell me you took me with their blessing?"
"Kyle?"
His lips tightened. He had almost begun to believe she was merely confused, but she was pretending she didn't know about Kyle.
"My brother," he said coldly. "Who are you? You couldn't be from this Greenleigh place, or you would know Kyle."
She shook her head, frowning. "I didn't know. They told me you hadn't had a visitor in the six months before I arrived. I... I just assumed you had no family."
He studied her silently. "Okay, let's say you're telling the truth. That still doesn't explain why they turned me over to you."
"They didn't," she whispered. There was only a minute pause, then she glanced up, meeting his eyes with her chin raised. "I took you out in the trunk of my car."
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes narrowing. "It seems we had quite an adventure. I'm sorry I can't remember it." The look she gave him was almost hateful. "So out of the goodness of your heart, you decided to make an idiot's last days happy. Is that the way it was?"
"Don't say that!" she said furiously. "Danny wasn't—you weren't an idiot," She ran a trembling hand across her face. "I can't explain. It hit me hard when I found out he... when I found out you were going to die. I simply couldn't stand the way you were stashed away in that luxurious prison. John called it a velvet zoo. They took care of you and gave you everything you needed, but no one talked to you or listened to you. They watched every move you made. They treated you as though, because your brain was damaged, you had no emotions, no human dignity."
He was silent for a moment, considering her explanation. "Who is John?"
She smiled. "He's a wonderful old man. Danny. . .you called him John J. Pike. Never John or even Mr. Pike. It was always John J. Pike."
"You seem to have split me into two people," he said wryly. "You called me Danny then."
She nodded and turned away, but not before he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. "You're not two people," she whispered, her voice husky. "Danny's gone." Her hands clenched into fists. "And I'm so scared for him."
She swung around. "We've got to do something. The best medical men in the country said you had extensive brain damage. We can't doubt that. You seem to be an intelligent, logical man. If this is some sort of remission, then the doctors need to know about it. It may help others. But if it's not... if your condition is getting worse, then you need immediate medical attention."
He took in what she was saying, letting it sink in, trying to make sense of it. But it was impossible. Nothing had made sense since he had awoken to find her lying naked beside him. The remembered warmth made him look at her more closely.
"In a morning full of strange happenings, I find you strangest of all," he murmured, not knowing whether he was talking to himself or her. "What kind of person would do the kind of things you've told me you've done?"
"An ordinary person," she said, her very beauty denying the simple statement.
"That's not enough. Do you have some kind of martyr complex? I've seen that before. It's not healthy for anyone concerned. What were your plans for me— or rather for Danny? What about the future?
She inhaled slowly. "As I've told you over and over, I thought he was going to die. There was no future for Danny. A year or two at the most."
"Two years can be a long time," he said quietly, remembering times and places in the past. "Surely you weren't planning on living here in rural splendor for all that time. Why would you cut yourself off from everyone for a—"
"Don't you dare call him an idiot again!" she snapped.
Daniel shook his head ruefully. "I find this a very strange conversation. It's a little hard for me to keep up with the characters."
She stared at him, anger and maybe even curiosity in her gaze. "How can you talk about it like that? This is not a play. This is all about you... about whether you live or die. I just don't understand you."
"Snap," he said dryly. "We seem to have reached some kind of impasse. I don't understand you and you don't understand me. But like you said, it's my life we're talking about. I think that entitles me to call the shots."
"Without even knowing the facts?" she asked in disbelief. "How can you do anything until you know what's going on? That's like driving a car blindfolded." She threw out an emphatic arm. "Disregard everything else I've told you if you like. But at least believe that you need medical attention and you need it now."
For a moment he couldn't look away from her adamant face. Then he stood and began to pace back and forth, ignoring the way she watched him.
What if she was right? he thought, frowning. Shouldn't he at least be examined by a doctor so that he could know what he was dealing with?
Turning abruptly, he knocked her purse off the counter and stooped to pick up the scattered items.
"Don't worry about that," she said hastily, rushing to kneel beside him. "I'll take care of it." She reached for the folded piece of paper he held in his hand.
Daniel met her gaze and held it for a long moment. Then shifting his eyes to the paper, he unfolded it. The silence between them drew out and became electric with tension as he slowly read the words printed there.
When he raised his eyes to the woman beside him, they both stood, staring at each other warily.
"It seems there was something you forgot to tell me," he said softly, glancing again at what appeared to be his own marriage license.
Chapter Eleven
He looked so cold, Amanda thought, feeling a wave of dizziness pass through her. So very cold and so very angry. Wiping her damp palms on the sides of her slacks, she glanced around the room. Anywhere but at him. How could she possibly explain? It had been difficult explaining to Danny, who loved her. This man would never understand.
Bracing herself, she met his eyes. "I know it looks strange—"
"To say the least," he said dryly.
She drew in a deep breath. "Yes, well. At the time it seemed the right thing to do. At least, it was the only thing I could think of. You're not a man who could just disappear without notice. I thought if we were married I would have some say in the way you were treated." She raised her small chin defianfly. "I know it was wrong, but I had already done enough to get me thrown in jail. I didn't see why I should balk at marriage."
Reluctantly, Daniel felt a touch of admiration. She had guts. But a lot of dishonest, unscrupulous people had guts, he reminded himself, and all the facts were against her. She had married a man—a very wealthy, very powerful man—who, if she was to be believed, was incapable of making a rational decision at the time.
Amanda saw the suspicion grow in his dark-green eyes and turned away from him. Could
n't he see that none of this was important? Guilt and fear were twisting her insides, making her physically ill. What if she had done Danny—no, not Danny, she thought as a sharp pain shot through her. What if she had done this man irreparable harm?
She swung around to face him. "None of that matters now. I don't know what's happening to you, but we've got to get you back to Dr. Sutherland so he can check you." She clenched her fists. "Don't you see? You could be dying?"
He stared at her in silence. After a moment he walked to the table and picked up the car keys. "Neither of us is going anywhere. Not until I've figured out what's going on." He raised a hand to his head, rubbing his temple. He couldn't explain it, even to himself, but he knew he couldn't go back. Not yet.
"I've got to think," he said harshly. "I've got to work it all out."
She moved toward him. "What's wrong? Oh, God, you look white. Come lie down on the bed."
He shook off her hand. "Just leave me alone."
She bit her Up. "Put the keys in your pocket. I won't be able to get them without you waking up. You've got to get some rest."
Without responding, he moved to the couch and sat down, leaning his head back against the wall. He looked so weak, Amanda thought as she sat at the table, her gaze never leaving him.
After a while, although he fought it, he fell asleep. Immediately Amanda relaxed. Leaning forward, she rested her head on her forearm and studied him as he slept.
He almost looked like Danny, she thought, now that those cold, green eyes were hidden.
Suddenly she closed her eyes tightly. What was she thinking? Of course he looked like Danny. He was Danny. But her confusion was understandable. Even his features had changed. This man was attractive— cynical and somewhat cold, but attractive. But he was nothing like Danny. The lines in his face were deeper, but it was his expression rather than the lines that made him look harder and older.
The man on the couch moved restlessly in his sleep, as though he were uncomfortable, bringing her attention back to him instantly.
Moving quietly, she walked to the couch and picked up a cushion from the floor. She placed it beside him at the end of the couch, then turned him gently until he was stretched out full length.
Although he groaned softly, he didn't wake. They had been through a lot. He must have been dead tired, she thought, brushing her dark hair back wearily as she stood beside the couch and stared down at him.
And so was she. But tired or not, she would have to stop jumping every time he moved, every time he looked at her. If only she could forget what Ted and Ginny had told her. She was desperately afraid something would happen to him, but there was nothing she could do about it. He had made a decision, and she was forced to abide by it.
She stretched her aching back muscles, glancing around the cabin. It was a mess, but then so was she. And for a moment, she didn't care.
But habit of cleanliness was too strongly ingrained for her to resist. She decided if she moved quietly she wouldn't disturb him while she cleaned.
I've got to get out. Oh God, I'm suffocating.
Daniel was in an enormous room, surrounded by luxury, all grotesquely overdone. Chandeliers as big as pianos hung from the ceiling, and the furniture gleamed of gold. People in ornate costumes milled around the room, each of them looking straight through Daniel as though he weren't there.
He had no idea where he was, but he knew he hated the place and was terrified by it. He began moving quickly through the laughing, talking people, pushing them aside, looking for a way out. But each door he tried opened onto the same room again. He always ended where he had begun. There was no way out. Angry shouts erupted from his throat.
No one heard. Suddenly, he knew that they didn't hear because he didn't exist. The elaborate room swam around him crazily, a kaleidoscope of whirling colors and hideous laughing faces.
Then the whirling stopped. Across the room he saw Amanda. He walked toward her, his movements sluggish as though his legs were weighted. He had to see her. It was important that he see what was in her eyes, but the closer he got, the more she pulled back into the shadows. Gasping for breath, he reached out to her....
Daniel awoke with a jerk. Cold sweat covered his body. He didn't move; he simply lay there, listening to the sound of his harsh breathing. The dream was still with him, overlying reality like the stale, sour smell of a room the day after a party.
It was the naked singularity, he thought suddenly, his mind still sluggish. It was a not place where law was suspended.
A noise broke through the residue of fear, and he turned his head slightly. She walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her slender body.
Daniel felt desire shoot through him and almost laughed. At least that part of him was functioning all right. He wanted to get up and throw her on the floor. At this point, violence would be very satisfying.
But he had the feeling violence wouldn't last long once he touched her. She was too beautiful, too desirable. He had to be wary of her. Until he put together the pieces of the past, he had to be wary of everyone and everything. In a world turned upside down, he couldn't even trust his own instincts.
Amanda felt him watching her even before she turned her head toward him. Her heart jumped in her chest then started to pound. The look in his eyes made her mouth go dry. This was different from Danny. Danny had looked at her with wistful longing, with the tenderness of love. This was naked, unyielding desire.
Clutching the towel more tightly around her, she pulled clean clothes from her suitcase. Then, without glancing in his direction, she went back to the bathroom. With carefully controlled movement, she closed the door behind her, then sank back against it, trembling in violent reaction.
She had to get control of herself. Whether either of them liked it or not, this man was still her responsibility.
Pushing away from the door, she began to dress. Later, when she reentered the room, Daniel was walking restlessly around the cabin, examining every inch silently as though it would give him a vital clue. For all the notice he paid her, he could have been alone.
"You've never been here before," she told him quietly.
"It's your cabin?" he said, glancing at her.
She nodded. "My parents gave it to me when they moved to Europe. This is the first time I've used it since then."
He frowned, rubbing his temple. "Europe?"
"What's wrong?"
He moved to stand at the window. "Europe," he said again. "That's why Kyle didn't come to see me. He's in Europe."
"You're remembering?''
He shook his head as though annoyed with himself. "Just that bit. Kyle moved to Italy to take over our operation there and I took over here in the States. That was after—" He broke off abruptly.
Amanda stared at him. "Is something wrong?"
"I took over the US operations after my father died," he said, his voice calm and unfeeling, as though he were discussing a business problem. Then she saw the muscle beside his mouth twitch.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It must be like having it happen all over again.''
Like it was happening all over again, he thought, repressing a shudder. He felt the same shock he had felt then. His father had never made it home from that business trip. The turbulence his pilot had expected over Colorado had turned into an unusually violent thunderstorm. Lightning had struck the jet even as Sam was calling for landing instructions.
Daniel had maintained his strength only because he knew his brother needed him. Kyle had been hit so hard....
"No more, Kyle." Daniel pulled his brother's hand down as the younger man signaled for another drink. The small bar in which they sat was not the kind of place either of them regularly patronized. The crowded room had not one ounce of charm; it was a place for getting drunk.
"Bourbon won't bring him back. No matter how much of it you drink!" Daniel's voice was hard in an attempt to disguise his own pain. The will had been read that morning—cold, dead words were all that was lef
t of their father. The rapidity of events had left them both dazed.
Kyle looked up at his brother, his eyes bewildered and bruised. "What am I going to do now, Dan? Why did he give the Italian operation to me? I've only been there twice, for God's sake."
Daniel stared down at his hands. "He was planning on sending you there this year to get used to it. But he expected to be around to help you." He glanced up. "You don't have to take it, Kyle. We've got controlling interest; we can sell off the holdings in Italy. You can stay here and work with me."
"Don't you mean for you?" Kyle asked, an uncharacteristic cynicism entering his voice. "He gave Philton to you. I don't think I would like being your flunky."
"Kyle..."
His brother shook his head stubbornly. "No. I'll go to Rome, and I'll do the job he wanted me to do." He smiled suddenly. "How about a contest, big brother? You give me five years, and I'll make Phil-Ital worth twice what Philton is worth."
Daniel smiled slightly. "It'll take a little while to get used to seeing you as a business opponent, but I'm willing to make a small wager."
Kyle's laughter was a little too loud, a little too forced. "This calls for a celebration." Glancing around, he spotted the waitress busy at another table. "To show what a good sport I am, I'll get the drinks. Next time you can buy in honor of your defeat."
Daniel leaned back, watching Kyle walk unsteadily to the bar. It was at times like these that he felt the difference between him and his brother. Sometimes he felt that difference had put a distance between them. It was probably the same for all brothers. When they became adults, individuality took over, and brotherhood took a back seat. The ties would always be there, but only in the background of each of their lives.
Shifting in his chair, he glanced up as angry voices brought his attention to the bar.
"Hell, man, how did I know she was with you? She didn't seem to mind giving me a little kiss." Kyle smiled down at the girl on the bar stool beside him. "Did you, darling?"