Kellee’s heart had climbed in her throat when the woman kissed Egan. Her insides had burst with a stabbing pain that wasn’t quite physical, yet spread throughout her body. Distraught, she’d run back to the house, hoping neither Egan nor his girlfriend had seen her. Much to her father’s bewilderment, she’d moped through the entire evening like a doll with the stuffing torn out.
After that night, she’d exorcised her crush and left for college. She had even dated a few guys in an effort to forget Egan. Except it hadn’t worked. She’d missed him, missed their workouts and the friendship they’d shared.
After returning from college to work for her father, she noticed that Egan seemed standoffish, like he didn’t want to get close to her. She’d tried not to let it hurt and remained friendly, but professional.
That fateful day in her father’s office when he’d unexpectedly asked her out, she’d jumped at the chance to be with him. She was older now, and in her mind, could compete with any of the women Egan knew. Her fantasies had come true. Egan had finally seen her as someone more than his student or the boss’s daughter. Then he’d cruelly forced her to choose between him, and her obligations to her father and the job. To this day, she couldn’t understand his anger or the change in him.
She’d wanted to hate him after that. The next morning, she’d expected an apology, only to learn he’d taken a leave of absence. He was surely taking care of his injury, but in her heart, she sensed it was more than that. After another couple of weeks, Egan hadn’t returned, even to work at his desk, so she assumed it was because of her. The amazing thing was that her father had never spoken ill of Egan. She’d never learned if her father fired Egan for how he’d treated her or if Egan had quit.
That thought released a myriad of images and feelings about her father. They washed over her, one after another, filling in more gaps in her memory.
In addition to the filing, her father had let her work in the lab with intelligence and data gathering, even had her qualify with an automatic pistol, but he refused to let her train as an agent. They’d argued about her future with his firm. She hadn’t wanted to be coddled. She’d wanted to be an agent, so she could fill the void left after her mother died. No matter what arguments she threw at him, he refused to change his decision.
Eventually Kellee gave up trying to persuade him and accepted the position he’d arranged as a trainee at Collins Services. She’d left for Florida right after getting the job. Then…? She searched her mind for the memories in between.
She’d been on a case. The storm hit land faster than predicted. She’d killed Petre with his own knife.
Rubbing her eyes, she tried to recall anything that had happened before her eighteenth birthday, but the memories remained elusive. Why couldn’t she remember her mother? Was the pain of her death so horrible that Kellee had pushed it away? Conversely, why was her memory of her father so strong?
A mix of conflicting emotions washed over her. Why were some details so vivid and yet others remained hazy and intangible? She wondered if they’d ever solidify. Did she want them to? Her connection to the past, of belonging, collided with the rush of renewed heartache—and no answers.
One thing she knew for certain, she was glad her father had sent Egan to find her. Even though it still didn’t make sense for Egan to hide her. Did her father truly believe she’d be safer on the run?
When Kellee rolled to her side and stretched her legs, she noticed the other pillow missing from the bed. Egan must have slipped into the room and taken it last night while she slept. Heat curled in her belly. Regardless of how he’d treated her in the past, she couldn’t seem to help how she felt about him now.
He might be overprotective. Demanding. Stubborn. Independent. He was also compassionate, thoughtful, and oh-so-very fine…
She’d given him everything when they’d made love. And he’d given back—for a short while. She knew he didn’t hate her. So why push her away? If she wanted answers, then she had to find a way through the wall he’d put between them.
The door opened, and Egan walked in. He looked surprised to see her awake. Blatant desire flared in the depths of his unguarded gaze. Her own body reacted with a flush that heated her skin.
Then his face shuttered and he tossed the pillow and blanket at her. “Cover up.” He averted his eyes.
She caught the bedding and sat up.
“I’m going to take a quick shower, then the head is yours.” His words were like a splash of cold water.
He made it as far as the door, before Kellee snapped back. “Good morning to you, too.”
Turning, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
She didn’t cover herself. She wanted him to see what he was missing. The bra and panties he’d bought for her covered more skin than a swimsuit, but she knew he remembered what she looked like last night with nothing on. The hunger in his eyes could have been from an empty stomach, but the pitch in her tummy told her he wasn’t as immune to her as he pretended. He pivoted, shutting the door behind him with a determined snick.
Round one to her. Kellee hugged his pillow, breathing in his lingering scent, and recalled his hungry look. The wall he’d built wasn’t unscalable. She just needed more ammunition. What would it take? How could she find his soft spots? She glanced around the room and smiled. What better place to learn more about him than his boat?
Reaching up, she tugged the curtains aside to let in more light from the little round windows as she inspected the room. Beautifully polished teak wood covered the walls and floor, or rather, the bulkhead and deck. She’d do well to remember the nautical terms Egan had used.
In the corner was a built-in bookshelf with storage underneath. She slid off the mattress and sat on the deck. Each shelf had a lip that prevented the contents from spilling when the boat was at sea. Reading the titles on the books, she could tell Egan seemed to enjoy a mix of nonfiction and thrillers. It made her wonder what sort of books she liked.
Under a stack of paperbacks, she found a photo album. Picking it up, she carried it back to the bed. There was so little she knew about Egan’s past. Anything that gave her an understanding of the man was a gem to treasure. Opening the album, she studied the photographs. The first few pages were filled with photographs of people she didn’t recognize. Old pictures of men with their wives or girlfriends on a fishing trip. One man held a slight resemblance to Egan. Turning the page, she saw a chronological progression of the same couples, this time with young children who looked like Egan and his brother.
What had Egan been like as a child? Was he obedient? Rebellious? She imagined he’d been a handful as a young man. She smiled. He was certainly a handful now.
Continuing to flip through more pages, she saw photos of the boys as they grew. Egan in a baseball uniform. His high school graduation. She stopped at his Navy photo. It must have been taken during basic training. The sheen of sweat on his upper lip made it seem as though he’d been pulled off the PT line to dress for the mandatory photo. He looked so serious. A warrior in the making.
Studying his photo, she wondered what Egan would have been like before he came to work for her father. When he’d joined the firm, he’d been mostly serious, and sometimes he seemed sad, too.
In the next pages, there were fewer pictures of Egan, and more of his brother, who appeared to have followed in Egan’s footsteps. Baseball…a prom…graduation. One showed him in uniform, like Egan’s Navy photo, taken at basic training. He looked younger than Egan, though they had probably been about the same age when the pictures were taken. Even in the military pose, Egan’s brother had a carefree twinkle in his eyes. She studied the face of a man with all his future ahead of him, who would never live to see it.
Kellee turned the next page. The album had several more pages, but all them were empty, as though everything ended abruptly. When she closed the book, a photo slipped free and floated to the deck. She picked it up to slide it back in, but paused.
She recognized the people in
the photo. She saw herself as a teenager standing next to her father, her brother and her mother…A sensation of vertigo clutched at her. The woman in this picture wasn’t the same woman from the picture the Russian had shown her. Kellee peered closer, examining the photograph at different angles.
Why didn’t she feel a connection, like she had when the Russian had shown her the other woman’s picture? Surely the woman in this photo was her mother. What other explanation could there be for her to stand in the same photo with Kellee’s father and brother?
The door opened and Kellee jumped.
Egan walked in, showered and dressed. “The head’s yours.” He paused, seeing what she had in her hand. “You’re certainly nosey.”
Kellee ignored his comment. “Is this my mother?” She held out the photograph.
“Yeah. That picture was taken just before your eighteenth birthday.”
“How did you get it?” Kellee asked.
“I took the picture and kept a copy for myself.” Egan lifted the photo from her hand. “Your father has the same picture in his office.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember having your picture taken? Or seeing it in your father’s office?”
Kellee thought harder. “Neither.”
“Well, I’m sure it will come to you.” Egan handed back the photo. “Like the doctor said, don’t overdo it.”
She studied the picture again, shaking her head. “This isn’t the same woman Petre showed me.”
Egan looked over her shoulder and stared at it for a moment. “That’s your mother, Kellee.”
She stared hard at image, committing the details to memory and hoping they’d stick. “The other picture was of a younger woman. Probably taken before I was born. Maybe the years changed her. But I’m sure the women are two different people.”
“Can’t be. That is your mother,” he said. “Get dressed, and we’ll get some breakfast in town. We’ve got nothing but time until Byron calls. When we return, I’ll see if I can find something else to help your memories return. Once your father says it’s safe, we’ll get you home. There’ll be more familiar things around to help you remember.”
She nodded and started to put the picture back in the album.
“Why don’t you leave it out,” Egan said. “It might help.”
“I’ve remembered some things.” Not that she was going to share them all with him right now. “I think I’m getting better.”
“That’s good, but you’ve had a rough few days. You should still take it easy.”
“Stop babying me. I can take care of myself.” She wanted him to see that she was a grown woman, yet standing in her underwear didn’t seem to have the effect she wanted.
He sighed. “Just get dressed, please?”
“Fine.” Kellee found her clothes and stormed into the bathroom.
****
Egan watched Kellee’s firm backside disappear beyond the doorway. Damn. He stopped staring at the empty hatch and gazed out the porthole at the daylight bouncing off the water. Anything to ignore the arousal pressing against his jeans. Seeing Kellee sitting on his bed in her underwear negated the effects of his cold shower.
It was difficult enough having her on his boat without her parading around in practically nothing. He’d buy her more clothes, ones that would cover her from neck to ankle. The problem was that he’d already seen her—all of her—and seeing her fully dressed wouldn’t make that image disappear. He not only knew what she looked like, but how she felt in his arms. How she tasted. All of those exquisite details. If he didn’t get a handle on his imagination, he was doomed.
He didn’t have to wait long for Kellee to shower and dress. They left the Suzy G and took the car for the short drive from the docks to the town center. He parked in front of a row of buildings on the main street and turned off the engine.
“We could’ve walked,” Kellee said, stepping onto the sidewalk.
“We need groceries and you said you wanted some more clothes. We’ll have too many bags to carry back to the boat in one trip.”
“You’re going to let me shop?”
The smile on her face, bright as the morning sunshine, temporarily stalled his breath. In that moment, he’d have offered a thousand shopping trips just to see that expression. “You can shop.” Yanking open the restaurant door, he focused on breakfast. He needed to keep an emotional distance. It was the only way to do his job. The only way to stay sane.
The smell of bacon and coffee greeted them just as the waitress from behind the counter called out, “Find a seat, kids, I’ll be right with you.”
Egan led the way to an empty booth and took the seat facing the front door. A couple of fisherman, probably locals, sat at the counter. A man and woman sat in another booth off to their left. A group of girls about Kellee’s age gathered around a table in the center of the room. But it was the man sitting alone in the opposite corner of the restaurant who caught Egan’s attention.
Although the man had glanced up as they’d walked in, Egan hadn’t gotten a good look at him. A ball cap was pulled low and sunglasses hid his eyes. The local paper propped in front of him hid the man’s face, and when he didn’t look their direction again, Egan figured him for a tourist.
After the waitress brought their coffee, Egan scanned the room again. Some faces were familiar. The men at the counter he recognized from a previous visit. Others were most likely visitors, like him and Kellee. He studied every person in the café, committing faces to memory.
“Would you stop staring at people?” Kellee whispered. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Does anyone in here look familiar to you?”
She glanced around, then faced Egan. “No. Should they?”
“I suppose not, but I can’t shake the feeling we’re being watched.”
****
Kellee surveyed the occupants of the room again. Some people glanced curiously in their direction. A couple of women, maybe just a little older than she was, stared openly at Egan. “You’re being watched.” She tried to keep the jealousy out of her voice, but she couldn’t help but compare her dowdy appearance to their more fashionable shorts and showy midriff tops. “It’s a good thing we’re going shopping when we finish eating.”
“Why?” Egan asked.
“I definitely need some different clothes.”
“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” Egan glanced at her T-shirt and shorts.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, I am grateful for the clothes you bought me, but I feel like somebody’s sister.”
The corner of his lip quivered in an attempt to hide his smile. “You are somebody’s sister.”
“Not yours.”
He started in surprise.
She grinned at him, a measure of satisfaction settling in her belly at grabbing his attention.
His voice dropped to a whisper that didn’t travel beyond their table. “I’m not having this conversation with you in public.” She opened her mouth to disagree, but he interrupted. “Or any other time.”
The waitress arrived to take their order. Egan asked for steak, medium rare, and eggs over-easy with a side of grits. He didn’t order for Kellee. She glanced at the menu and ordered a fresh shrimp omelet and glass of orange juice.
“Why didn’t you order for me?” she asked.
“You’re a big girl.”
“About time you noticed.”
Egan’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t mean the rules have changed,” he warned. “This is our last meal in public until your father calls.”
Good. I’ll have you all to myself. Kellee smiled.
****
“No,” Egan barked as Kellee lifted a hanger off the rack and looked at the summer top.
“I think it’s cute.” She held it up to get a better look.
Cute was not the word that came to Egan’s mind as Kellee held the low-cut top against herself. Enticing, sexy, and entirely too skimpy for his libido. “Then fi
nd something to put over it,” he said, reluctantly giving in. “It’s cool on the water at night. The last thing I need is for you to get sick.” Good grief, where was his self-control?
“You’re such an old hen,” Kellee said with a chuckle. “I don’t remember you being this grumpy when we trained.”
“I’m your guard. Guards aren’t supposed to be nice,” he said in his own defense. “What else do you want?” Now that they’d arrived in Little Landing, Kellee might not be in danger anymore, but his vigilance against her charms was wearing thin.
“I’m going to try these on. See if I like them.” She took her treasures of shorts, tops, and swimsuits to the dressing room.
Egan’s gaze followed her. He was tempted to join her in the dressing room and prove he wasn’t an “old hen,” but a cocky rooster. More like a wolf on the prowl for a mate. Now that he’d tasted her sweetness, it was increasingly hard to keep his mind on his primary task.
Placing a chair next to the dressing room door, Egan sat down and teetered back on two legs. The store wasn’t large. He could see most of the women’s department from where he sat. Kellee had been pleased when she saw many of the items were on sale at the end of the summer season. Her shopping spree wasn’t going to break him, and Byron would reimburse his expenses.
Except Egan didn’t want O’Neal’s money. For some reason, he enjoyed buying things for Kellee with his own money.
Having practically lived with O’Neal’s family after he’d joined Northstar, he’d been grateful for the apartment over their garage and his own space. Northstar became a second home to him after the Navy. He’d felt welcome. Katherine’s death had affected him as much as it had all the employees. It was hard to watch how it had devastated Kellee and her family. He knew, firsthand, what it was like to lose a parent. Or in his case, both parents.
After his parents were killed in a senseless robbery, he and Rory had been sent to live with his uncle in Jacksonville. Uncle Chuck wasn’t a blood uncle, but a friend of Egan’s parents. In those rare instances, when the subject of how his parents died was mentioned, Uncle Chuck would argue with Egan to keep him from becoming a cop.
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