She nodded, hoping he would motion her closer and hug her. But he didn’t. He seemed to be waiting to see if she had more to discuss.
“Can she come downstairs for dinner?” she asked.
The faint tightening of his features told her Uncle Jarrett wasn’t pleased with her request, but he didn’t refuse her. “If she feels up to it.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and told herself she should leave. But there was something else she had to know. “Why don’t you like her?”
His dark gaze captured hers. She bit down hard on her lower lip and braced herself for an explosion. But her uncle was silent as he studied her face. She wondered what he saw there. Nana B. used to say she looked a lot like her mother. Anna Jane knew that wasn’t true. Her mother had been beautiful, like people on television.
“I don’t dislike her,” Uncle Jarrett said at last. “I don’t know her. I’m a little concerned about her showing up the way she did. Now that I know she actually read your note…” His voice trailed off. “Don’t worry, Anna Jane. Everything is going to be fine.”
Perhaps, she thought. If anyone had the power to make something all right, it was her uncle. After all, he ran an empire.
She escaped the office and raced upstairs. She made it nearly to the top before feeling the hot breath of the creatures who lived below. With a burst of speed, she jumped to the second floor. She was safe on the landing. At least for now.
Maybe it was his work that made Uncle Jarrett angry all the time, she thought. Nana B. had explained that being a grown-up was difficult at times. Uncle Jarrett had lots of responsibility. And now he had her. She was a big responsibility. She’d heard her mother telling someone that once when she’d been on the phone.
“I don’t mean to be,” Anna Jane whispered as she made her way to her room.
She was halfway down the hall when she noticed that the guest-room door stood open. Her steps slowed. What was the woman like? How had she come to be washed up on the beach? Did she really not remember who she was?
Anna Jane crept to the open door and peered inside the room. The strange woman sat in front of the dresser, staring at herself in the mirror. She wore a thick white terry-cloth robe. Her hair was loose, and the soft-looking gold-blond strands tumbled over her shoulders.
Anna Jane fingered her own dark hair. She wondered what it was like to have hair the color of gold. Did it feel different?
“Are you spying or waiting for an invitation?” the woman asked.
Anna Jane jumped slightly, then entered the room. “Both,” she admitted.
The woman turned to face her and smiled. “You’re welcome to keep me company.”
She had wide green eyes and a nice mouth. Anna Jane would bet that when the bruises were gone, the woman would be very pretty. Right now, though, it was hard to tell. She had a gash across the pale skin on her forehead. Bruises darkened the left side of her face.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
“Anna Jane Quinlin.”
“You live here on the island?” She frowned. “This is an island, isn’t it?”
Anna Jane nodded. “My uncle owns it.”
“Are you here on vacation?”
“No. My mother died and I had to come live here.”
The woman’s face softened with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. You must miss her.”
“Yes. Of course,” Anna Jane said automatically, tucking her right hand behind her back and crossing her fingers so the lie wouldn’t count. It wasn’t that she didn’t miss her mother. She did. Sort of. The way she missed her favorite teacher or the housekeeper. But she didn’t miss her mother the way this nice lady thought. She didn’t cry for her at night. Those tears were reserved for Nana B. Anna Jane knew it was a sin to love Nana B. more than her own mother, but she couldn’t change how she felt. She prayed for God to understand.
She tried to think of something to say to change the subject. Her gaze fell on the pile of clothes on the bed. “What are those?”
The woman sighed. “Your housekeeper brought them to me. I was only wearing a bathing suit and a pair of shorts, so I need something to wear. I’m just not sure what I like. Or what I used to like. It’s very confusing.”
Anna Jane walked over to the bed and fingered the top garment. There were shorts, T-shirts, sundresses, bathing suits, nightgowns. She picked up a white filmy nightie. “You wear this to bed,” she said.
The woman smiled. “I remember that.” She stood and approached the bed. A bright floral-print sundress lay to one side. “I was going to pick this one. What do you think?”
Anna Jane tilted her head to one side and studied her. “It’s nice. You can wear your hair up on your head with some curls loose around your ears.” She pointed to a big red-and-purple flower right in front. “That one matches your bruises.”
She’d spoken without thinking, and instantly covered her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
The woman laughed. “Don’t be. You’re exactly right.” She cleared her throat. “Bruise wear,” she said in a low voice, as if a commentator on television. “What all the models are sporting this summer in the tropics. Fall down and be fashionable.”
Anna Jane giggled.
The woman plopped down on the bed and pulled Anna Jane down next to her. “You don’t laugh enough,” she said, putting her arm around her. “I can tell.”
“Really?” Anna Jane asked, and leaned close. The embrace made her feel warm inside. “How can you know something like that?”
The woman’s humor faded. “I don’t know.” She scrunched her eyes closed. “Isn’t that strange. I can remember some things and I know you’re not laughing very much these days, but I don’t remember my own name.”
“What’s that like?”
“Scary,” the woman said, looking at her. “I don’t know who I am. I could be anyone.”
“A princess?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice. I’d like to be a princess with a beautiful castle.”
“And a handsome prince.”
The woman paused. “I’m not sure a handsome prince is always a good idea.” She whispered in Anna Jane’s ear. “Sometimes, when you’re not looking, they can turn back into ugly toads.”
Anna Jane laughed and the woman joined in.
“What’s so funny?” a male voice asked.
Anna Jane looked up. “Uncle Jarrett! What are you doing up here?”
“I came to check on our guest.” He turned to the woman and gave her a polite nod. “How do you feel?”
The woman’s humor faded and her green eyes darkened. “Fine,” she answered as she rosé to her feet. She adjusted her terry-cloth robe, tightening the belt and tugging the V of the collar closer together.
Anna Jane slid off the bed. Uncle Jarrett was very angry. She could tell from the stiff set of his shoulders and the way his mouth straightened. It wasn’t about her. That much she could figure out. Which left only the mystery lady. But why would she upset Uncle Jarrett?
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Jarrett Wilkenson.”
“I know.” The woman took the hand he held out and shook it quickly. “John, ah, Dr. Reed told me.” She released him and clutched at the ends of the belt. “I appreciate your hospitality. I know I’ve inconvenienced you, but I promise I’ll be on my way in the morning.”
“On your way to where?”
She frowned. “Um, I’m not sure. John mentioned a hotel.”
“The resort is about four miles from here.”
“That’s the one.” The slender blonde smiled faintly. “At least if I had to lose my identity, I picked a beautiful place for it to happen.”
“How convenient.”
His voice said it wasn’t convenient at all. The undercurrents in the room made Anna Jane uncomfortable. “Can you come downstairs for dinner?” she asked, blurting it out in an effort to distract them.
The woman looked startled. “That’s so nice
of you,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t. Uncle Jarrett’s very busy. I usually eat alone.”
“Oh.” Their guest nodded. “I’d like that, then.”
Jarrett had to admire her abilities. The woman’s confusion was so real it was nearly tangible. If he hadn’t already been suckered once by a woman, he might have bought into her act. The questions in her eyes, the faint trembling of her fingers, the way she kept tugging her robe belt tighter and tighter. All excellent devices designed to distract him from her true purpose.
She might be the best, but he was prepared. No one was going to get past his defenses again. If she thought she could use his niece to get to him, she was wrong.
“Dinner sounds like fun,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “I’ve been working too many hours lately. I think I’ll join you.”
“Really?” Anna Jane stared up at him, obviously thrilled.
He felt a pang of guilt and again questioned his sister’s wisdom in naming him the guardian of her only child. Anna Jane would have been better off with nearly anyone else. What did he know about raising a young girl?
He would have to learn, he told himself. His niece deserved the best he had to offer. Starting with his protection from unscrupulous females. At least he’d had the sense to come check on her. He’d lingered in the hallway before coming into the room. He’d heard the mystery woman’s conversation with Anna Jane. The one in which the woman had said she wouldn’t mind being a princess and living in a castle. He might not have a title, but he had plenty of land and money. More than enough to make certain kinds of women fantasize about happily ever after.
“Would you rather I stayed in my room?” the woman asked. Her expression bared her thoughts. She’d obviously figured out that he didn’t want her alone with Anna Jane, but she wasn’t sure why. Or she wanted him to think that.
“You’re a guest in my house,” Jarrett replied coolly. “Please make yourself at home.” Which didn’t really answer her question.
“I wish you knew your name,” Anna Jane said. “We have to call you something.”
Jarrett thought of several names, but none of them were suitable for a child’s ears.
The woman shrugged. “Believe me, I wish I could remember, too.”
“Maybe we can guess.” The nine-year-old tilted her head. “You must have a pretty name. Like Heather or Julia. Sarina? Hannah?”
“None of those sounds right.”
Anna Jane continued to try to come up with a name. Jarrett watched the two of them, watched the strange woman. Who was she? What did she hope to get from him—or Anna Jane? Despite the note, he doubted her motives were altruistic.
His gaze rosé from her bare feet to her shapely calves, to her thighs, covered in part by the robe. Her upper body was concealed in the thick folds of terry cloth, but he remembered what she’d looked like on the beach, when she’d been wearing a bathing suit and shorts. As John had mentioned, she had a tempting figure. Her face was lovely, even with the bruises. She didn’t look that old. Mid-twenties, maybe.
Something flickered low in his belly. For a second he thought it was recognition, then he realized it was something worse. Not to mention more dangerous.
Wanting. A whisper of heat blew across his dormant desire, causing slumbering need to stir restlessly. It was the last kind of trouble he needed in his life, and he firmly squashed the reaction. If he wanted a woman, he would return to the States and find an appropriate one. The kind of woman who understood that there was no potential for a long-term relationship.
Yet he wouldn’t be leaving. Not only because he didn’t want to abandon Anna Jane, but because he instinctively understood that the kind of woman he usually sought would not be able to help him this time.
“None of them sound right?” Anna Jane asked.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could think of my name.” The woman rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe this. It doesn’t make sense.”
Tell me about it, Jarrett thought grimly.
“Then we’ll have to pick one,” Anna Jane said. “Did you have a favorite?”
“You decide.”
“Uncle Jarrett?”
“I’m staying out of it.”
Anna Jane pursed her lips. “You were in the water, which is sort of like being a mermaid. What if we call you Ariel? She’s the mermaid in the Disney movie.”
“Ariel?” The woman repeated the name. “Fine, if you like it.” She glanced at Jarrett. “Any objections?”
“No.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to make a call to the West Coast. I’ll see you two at dinner.”
“Can I stay here with Ariel?” Anna Jane asked.
He looked into her dark eyes. She asked for so little. There was no way she could suspect their visitor of being anything other than what she claimed. He nodded, then walked into the hall and headed for the stairs.
Ariel. It was just a name, he told himself, yet it suited the woman. He didn’t want to think about that, nor did he want to think about how quickly Anna Jane had taken to her. The last thing the child needed was to be hurt again. She’d been through enough.
He thought about returning to “Ariel’s” room and warning her off. But he didn’t. Mostly because she seemed to talk to the girl so easily. It was a skill he’d yet to master. Whenever he was around his niece, he didn’t know what to say to her. He sensed she needed something from him, but what?
I usually eat alone. Anna Jane’s words came back to him. He hadn’t meant that to happen, for the child to be so solitary. His hotels were all around the world and the various time differences meant he was on the phone at odd hours. Had he really left her to eat on her own so many times?
He thought about the past few days and realized he had. Too many conference calls and too much work. He’d neglected Anna Jane. He resolved to make sure that didn’t happen again. The first thing he had to do was get their mysterious guest out of his life. Then he would concentrate on his niece.
Chapter Three
Not knowing how else to wear her hair, Ariel had taken Anna Jane’s suggestion that she pile it on top of her head. She’d handled the gold-blond curls easily, quickly scooping them into order and securing the style with pins from a makeup kit Leona had lent her.
Now Ariel stared into the vanity mirror at her dresser, studying the results. Feathered bangs covered her forehead but did nothing to conceal the bruises and scrapes along the left side of her face and the gash above her eyebrow. She touched the swollen area, wincing slightly at the pain. With her fingers she traced the shape of her nose, then her mouth, finally cupping her undamaged cheek.
No doubt like many women she spent a small portion of each day staring into a mirror. Perhaps just to make sure her skin was clean, or maybe to apply makeup. As a teenager she would have examined her features, trying to decide if she was pretty or not. A person would grow familiar with lines and planes, tiny imperfections, freckles, curves, coloring. Yet the face staring back at her was a stranger’s. She would have sworn, under oath, with her hand on a Bible, that she’d never seen it before in her life.
And yet that face was hers.
Ariel sucked in a breath as the room tilted slightly. She sensed that the dizziness came from disbelief rather than from a physical reaction. She felt disconnected from her surroundings, and there were some aches from her close encounter with that cliff, but otherwise her body felt fine. It was her head that had her worried.
She stood and walked to the door. Dinner would be served in a few minutes, and she didn’t want to keep her host waiting. She didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out Jarrett Wilkenson was the kind of man who expected things to happen on his timetable and not anyone else’s.
As she reached for the door handle, a voice whispered at the back of her mind. It told her to turn around and take one last look in the mirror—just to make sure she looked all right. Something about the voice, something familiar, told her she’d heard
it all her life. That she made a habit of checking in the mirror one last time. Just to make sure her slip wasn’t showing or that she’d hadn’t accidentally worn the wrong shoes. Most likely she’d always heeded the voice and checked her appearance. But not this time. Ariel knew what she would find when she looked in the mirror. She knew she would stare into a stranger’s eyes, and she couldn’t face that right now.
She stepped into the hallway. The doctor had cautioned her that trying to force memories wasn’t going to work. With her kind of trauma, what was needed was time and rest. Until she had a life to return to, time wasn’t going to be a problem. She had plenty. Resting, on the other hand, might be more of an issue. How was she supposed to relax when she didn’t know who she was?
This kind of thing doesn’t happen to normal people, Ariel told herself. Instantly the questions formed. How did she know normal people didn’t lose their memories? How did she know she was normal? Did she usually make it a habit to talk to herself?
“No memory and crazy,” she murmured as she started down the stairs. “There’s a combination you don’t see often enough.”
She was still smiling when Anna Jane called to her.
“Ariel! You look so pretty. That dress is nice.” The young girl stood in the foyer. “Leona says there’s fresh fish for dinner. Fish is icky, but she makes it taste good. There’s salad and cake for dessert.”
Ariel’s stomach growled and she touched it. “Gee, I wasn’t hungry until you started talking about food, but now I’m starving.” She made her way down the stairs. “I’m glad Dr. Reed said it was all right for me to come downstairs.”
“Me, too.” Anna Jane seemed to focus on the stairs.
Ariel turned and looked at them. “What’s wrong?”
The little girl shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just—” She wore a dark peach T-shirt and matching shorts that accentuated her tan. They’d been the same clothes Ariel had seen her in when she’d first awakened, and there wasn’t a smudge on them. Anna Jane was too young to be keeping her clothes that clean. She must not be playing enough.
Ariel shook her head. How on earth could she make that kind of judgment? How could she know that?
The Mysterious Stranger (Triple Trouble) Page 3