Without warning he grabbed her arm and pulled her body hard against his. His mouth captured hers with a demanding intensity. And she responded to that demand with the same fervor as he demonstrated. He wound his fingers in her soft hair, his actions the culmination of his released anger meshing with his pent-up desires and frustrations.
He felt the situation slipping out of his control. He had not expected her response to be so evenly matched to his own desires, despite their previously shared kisses. He was not sure what he was experiencing. It had been such a long time since he had been able to talk and act without carefully monitoring each word and action in order to protect his identity. He did know one thing for sure. This incendiary moment had to stop, and had to stop now before it was too late. He reluctantly broke off the kiss.
Her insides trembled with every quaking breath she drew. Nowhere in her research notes about James Hollander was there anything that prepared her for the type of raw sexuality that reached out and grabbed her. Never in her life had anyone ever made her feel that way—and it scared her right down to her toes.
He took a calming breath, his voice soft but in control. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my life? You’ve taken a situation that, with the passage of time, was finally becoming tolerable to me and you’ve turned it inside out. You’ve shoved me right back into the harsh glare of the public eye—maybe not at this moment, but with the publication of your book everything would be wide open again.”
He took another steadying breath. “You’re also the first person I’ve been able to talk openly with in five years. This is a horrendous amount of change to have to adjust to in such a short amount of time, especially considering what’s at stake here—” his voice trailed off for a moment “—at least for me.”
He snapped back to attention, his manner becoming more authoritative as he sharply clipped his words. “You want me to trust you? Then you’re just going to have to humor me and my little whims or paranoia, whichever you choose to call them.”
Chapter Five
Neither could deny nor question the reality of the emotional tie that bound them together. It was a tie constructed of a much more complicated substance than merely needing to get to her house so he could find and follow a lead that would hopefully release him from his exile. Things were becoming much more involved than that.
Her voice was a whisper that carried just a hint of huskiness. “I have to find a pay phone. I need to check in with Steve.”
He held her an instant longer, then finally loosened his grip and allowed her to step free. His mind turned to more practical matters. Should he go with her? Listen to what she was telling Steve? Trust was something he had not indulged in for a long time. It was not easy to resurrect the feeling without serious reservations regardless of how much he wanted to. He pondered the question a moment longer before responding. “I saw a pay phone next door at the gas station.”
“I’ll be right back.” She turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Andi hurried next door, found the phone, inserted the coins and dialed the number. The call was answered with a sharp beep from Steve’s pager. She punched in the number of the pay phone, then hung up and waited. She knew Steve would immediately go to a pay phone and return her call rather than taking a chance on making the call from his home phone.
Things were becoming too complicated. She was allowing her personal feelings and emotions to become too tightly entwined with the business at hand. It was a cardinal rule, one that Steve had carefully pounded into her head—never become personally involved with someone connected to an investigation. It clouded the judgment, and if the stakes were high enough could ultimately cost someone’s life. She knew she was blazing an extremely foolish trail, especially considering the very real danger that already surrounded him...and now her. His words came back to her. One woman is dead.
Five minutes later the phone rang. She grabbed it on the first ring. “Hello.”
Steve did not address her by name and did not use his own name. He did not need to ask where she was, he would simply cross-reference the phone number he had called. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, so far. It looks like we’ll be an additional day getting to my place. He’s very uptight and on edge. We had a disagreement about the route and I lost.”
There was a moment of silence before Steve responded to this new information. “I don’t like it, but I guess there’s nothing that can be done about it right now. I’ve got a new computer wiz working with me. I think she can hack her way into anything. Of course, her regular job puts her in a position to already have access to quite a bit of information. I should have more to give you next time you call.”
The conversation lasted less than thirty seconds. Andi glanced at her watch as she left the phone booth. It was late and they needed to get an early start in the morning. A little shiver darted through her as she wondered what the night would bring. Could she spend another night in the same bed with Jim and still be able to ignore the way he turned her senses upside down?
Jim watched out the window as Andi left the phone booth and started across the parking lot from the gas station back to the motel. Very mixed emotions churned in the pit of his stomach. When she went to use the phone, he had almost run after her so he could hear exactly what she said to Steve. He needed the information she had in her possession. It was an impossible situation. He was bound to her by the circumstances as surely as if they were handcuffed together.
He quickly undressed except for his briefs and climbed under the covers. He lay on his back, the covers pulled to his waist and his hands behind his head. If he was lucky maybe he would be able to fall asleep in the next minute before she returned. It was either that or else he would have to seriously consider sleeping in the car. To spend one more night in the same bed without being able to at least hold her was asking too much of the tenuous grasp he had on his self-control. His thoughts were interrupted when Andi entered the room.
She removed her jacket as she filled him in on her conversation. She pointedly avoided looking at him. “Steve’s been very busy. He should have quite a bit of background information on several of the people involved in the case by the time we get to my house.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“There’s not a lot that can be said in thirty seconds. I’ll talk to him again tomorrow when we stop for the night.”
He noticed her uneasiness, the way her eyes glanced away. He could not tell if she was keeping something from him, perhaps some information Steve had given her, or if it was as simple as her feeling as awkward about the sleeping arrangements as he did.
She quickly unpacked her things and went into the bathroom. He snapped off the lamp on the nightstand and turned on his side, facing away from the bathroom door. He closed his eyes and tried to force away the tension building in his body. He heard the bathroom door open, felt her weight come down on the bed as she slipped under the covers. He took a calming breath, then turned over to face her.
“Andi...” He hesitated a moment, then enfolded her in his arms and held her against his body while cradling her head against his shoulder.
Her voice quavered slightly. She had wished he would take her in his arms just as much as she had not wanted him to take that initiative. “Jim...this isn’t—”
“This is all, Andi. I’m not asking for more.” He made no further advances, he only held her.
He wondered about the future. For the first time since this unending nightmare had begun, he actually thought about what the future could be, then the dark cloud of doubt covered his thoughts. Was he allowing his mind to drift beyond what was possible? Exactly what was Andi’s angle in becoming involved? What did she have to gain from this? Was she someone who could really be trusted or did she have some kind of ulterior motive? Exactly what had she and Steve talked about?
“MR. BUCHANAN.” Gordon Conklin’s voice was all business as he entered the office. Even though it was
late at night, Milo Buchanan was still at his desk. “After a thorough search, we got all of Andrea Sinclair’s research material out of her house. We found out that she’s gone to Canada...some little place on Vancouver Island. There’s nothing in her house that says she knows Hollander or even knows where he is, but this sure is a funny time of year to be headed into Canada to some little summer resort in the woods. Do you want me to send someone there to check?”
The phone rang, interrupting their conversation. Milo Buchanan picked up the receiver, listened for a moment, then spoke rapidly. “Hold on, I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Milo pushed the hold button then placed the receiver in the cradle. He returned his attention to Gordon. “Yes, Gordon, I want you to send someone there. I don’t want the slightest thing overlooked. Every possibility should be followed up and explored to the fullest. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to tend to.”
He leaned back in his chair and watched as Gordon left the office. As soon as the door was closed, he lifted the receiver and released the hold. “Now, just what is it that you think I’ll find so interesting?”
MILO BUCHANAN WAS NOT the only one receiving a late-night call. Phil Herman had just turned out the lamp next to his bed when the phone rang. He may have resigned his position as U.S. Attorney following the Hollander disappearance, but he had continued to keep on top of any and all information concerning the Buchanan case and in particular the possible whereabouts of James Hollander.
“Hello”
“Phil, it’s Steve. Sorry to be calling so late.”
“I’d given up on you for the night. I’d just gone to bed. I take it you heard from her?”
“Yes, we just got off the phone. Things seem to be progressing, but a little behind schedule. He’s being difficult and she’s frustrated by it. It seems to be a matter of control. He wants to call the shots, but as long as she holds the trump card of the interview tape he isn’t in a position to really make his demands stick. I’m sure he’s as frustrated by everything as she is.”
“Do you foresee any problems in him going along with her?”
Steve paused for a moment before responding to Phil’s question. “No, I don’t think so. She has something he wants, and sticking with her is the only way he can get it. I don’t think we need to worry. Andi can handle him.”
There was a note of warning in Phil’s voice. “Are you sure? I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here. James Hollander has managed to successfully evade any and all attempts to find him for five years. If this blows up on us and we lose him before we can get everything set up, there won’t be another chance.”
ANDI LAY QUIETLY IN BED the next morning, still wrapped in Jim’s arms as he slept. She listened to the sounds outside the window. The noises from the busy harbor on the Columbia River mingled with the roar of the early-morning city traffic. She also heard the sound of rain falling hard against the roof, the windows and the pavement outside the motel room. It was not a good omen. The rain would slow down their travel time. She allowed a quick twinge of anger—it was another reason why they should be on the interstate rather than the narrow, winding coastal highway.
She glanced at Jim’s face, then slowly raised her hand and touched his cheek. She gently scratched her fingers through his beard, quickly withdrawing her hand as he began to stir. He brought his hand out from under the covers and swatted at her fingers, as if he were shooing away a fly. She noted how the color of his hair and beard had lightened a little with his last shower.
Her voice was a whisper. “Do you really like having this beard? You’d be much more attractive without it.”
His words held the thickness of sleep. “It’s been sort of a necessity, like dying my hair. I’ve never particularly liked it.” He shifted his weight slightly while tucking his arm back under the covers, still not opening his eyes and not relinquishing the hold he had on her with his other arm. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little after seven and it’s raining out.” Her entire body felt alive, her senses tingling in response to his touch.
“We’ll get up in a little bit. I just want to stay here awhile longer. It’s warm, it’s comfortable—” he slid his hand across her back, feeling the soft material of her nightshirt “—and it’s a closeness I haven’t felt in five years.” His words became tinged with just a hint of melancholy, his mind now fully awake. “Maybe even longer.” As with the spontaneous romp in the snow, she had once again provided him with a glimpse of what life would be like if he could only put a stop to the insanity that stalked him.
She had felt it, too—the closeness, the warmth. She remained quiet for a few minutes longer, then gently pulled away from his embrace. “This rain will slow us down, we have to get on the road.”
Andi gathered a few belongings, then disappeared into the bathroom. As soon as she finished Jim took his turn.
When he emerged from the bathroom, the beard and mustache were gone and some more of the brown color had been washed from his naturally blond hair. Two or three more washings with regular shampoo and most of the brown would be eliminated. She allowed a slight grin to turn the corners of her mouth.
He smiled at her. “Well, what do you think? Do I stick out like a sore thumb?”
His handsomely chiseled features captured her total attention. “You didn’t do that on my account, did you?”
“No, not exactly. I never did really like it, and since you already know who I am, this seemed like a good time to get rid of it.” He allowed a serious expression to cross his face. “Besides, if anyone shows up at the resort, the only description they’ll get of me will be of a man with brown hair and a beard and mustache.”
They headed south along the coast. The rain was steady, not falling hard enough to be a downpour but definitely more than just a shower. Andi glanced over at Jim as he drove. He seemed more relaxed than he had the day before, his face showed less tension, and he did not have as tight a grip on the steering wheel. But he could not hide the fact that he was troubled by something. Andi’s thoughts turned once again to what would happen after they arrived at her house and he had listened to the tape.
Travel was slow, the other cars taking their time on the rain-slicked, winding road. She had started to say something about being on the interstate but changed her mind, not wanting to cause another argument. Once they left Oregon and entered California, Highway 101 would be fine. They could stop at the airport in Eureka, California, and turn in the Washington rental car and pick up a California one. She glanced at her watch. With the slow time they were making. Eureka would probably be their stop for the night.
She tried to get him to talk about himself, about what he had been doing the past five years. He did not respond to her gentle prodding. He had made an attempt at some polite conversation, but she could tell that it was a very shallow effort and probably nothing more than a means of evading her questions.
The rain pounded down harder as the morning turned into afternoon. He had lapsed into silence as he gave his complete attention to the slick, winding road and the slow traffic. It was already getting dark when they passed through Brookings, Oregon, just a few miles from the California state line. With the rain, the darkness and another one hundred and fifteen miles to go—all but the last few miles of it still two lane winding highway—she knew it would take them close to three hours to get into Eureka.
Even though they had shared the driving chores, it had still been a long, exhausting day for both of them. Finally they reached the spot where the highway widened and straightened out, where they were able to drive at maximum highway speed. Not only was Andi tired but she was also hungry. They had elected to keep driving rather than taking the time to stop for dinner. She stifled a yawn.
He squinted as he peered through the windshield at the road ahead, the headlights barely penetrating the rain that was now coming down in sheets. They continued on in silence, the back-and-forth swishing of the windshield wipers and the tir
es on the wet pavement the only sounds.
There was more on his mind than just the rain and the difficult driving conditions, more than his concern about her subtle attempts to delve into what he referred to as his missing years. He could understand her natural curiosity, especially in light of her research, but that did not mean he needed to roll over like a puppy who wanted his tummy scratched. Regardless of how much he wanted to cross over the line into the realm of trust, all he could muster was a marginal step forward—just enough to be in a car driving south toward La Jolla—and he was not comfortable with even that He could not shake the almost overwhelming feeling of trepidation that burrowed in the pit of his stomach.
“There!” Jim pointed to some lights up ahead. “A motel set back off the road and right next to a pizza place. How about that?”
Her weariness, a result of the late hour and the long day, showed in her voice. “Anything is okay with me, and I’m definitely hungry.”
Jim dashed through the rain to the motel office while Andi waited in the car. A few minutes later he returned and drove around to the back of the motel. They parked beneath an overhang from the roof, quickly gathered their overnight bags and went to the room.
“I’ve got to check in with Steve. It’s very late, especially in New York. He’s going to be worried.”
It was well after midnight in New York when she placed the call to Steve from the pay phone at the pizza place next door. Following her conversation, she joined Jim at the table. They ate quickly. It seemed to Andi that it was raining even harder as they dashed back to the motel, sidestepping large puddles as they ran. Occasional flashes of lightning lit up the black sky, followed by loud claps of thunder.
She grabbed her overnight bag and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later wearing her robe over her nightshirt. He had taken off his shirt and kicked off his shoes but was still wearing his jeans. The air crackled with electricity, then there did not seem to be any air at all as they stood on opposite sides of the bed looking at each other.
Secret Lover Page 7