by Metsy Hingle
“I see,” she said. And she did. Painfully so. He’d known last night he was free. He’d known, and yet he had still pre tended to be asleep when she’d come to him.
Wake up and smell the coffee, Josie. He doesn’t want you. Not that way. Not the way you want him. Where’s your pride, girl? Where’s your pride?
Evidently she’d lost her pride around the same time she’d lost her heart to him. But no point in letting him know that. No point in shaming herself and embarrassing him further. “But what about the twins’ mother?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. It’s one of the things that’s been driving me crazy because, considering all the bits and pieces that are coming back to me, you’d think I’d remember those two and why I have them with me. But I don’t remember them—which makes me think that I was right about them not being mine, except that...” He looked at her, bewilderment in his eyes. “Except that I feel as though I’m connected to them somehow.”
“Probably because you are connected to them.”
“Maybe. Whether I am or not doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is what we do know about me. I was traveling with a half-dozen phony passports, a lot of cash and a gun, and I had men with weapons chasing me. In my book that all adds up to one thing—bad news. I’m bad news, angel. And there’s no way you should let yourself become involved with me. Understand?”
“What I understand, Blake, is that you take everything way too seriously. Who said I was involved with you? Or that I even want to be? Is that what you think? All because of a few kisses?” she challenged, doing her best to salvage whatever pride she could. “All I’m offering is a place for you and those babies to stay until the roads clear, a few meals and my friendship. If you thought I was offering more than that, then you were wrong.”
Maybe he was wrong, Blake conceded, as he watched Josie storm off. Or maybe the problem was that he wanted a great deal more from her than the friendship she claimed to be offering. He stood there several minutes contemplating what Josie had told him. He was still trying to decipher his feelings when he saw her with a twin in each arm. She said nothing, simply looked at him for a moment, then headed for the nursery. And then he knew. He hadn’t been wrong, Blake acknowledged. His angel was lying through her pretty white teeth. What she felt for him was a lot more than friendship and it didn’t have a thing to do with proximity and primal instincts. She thought she was in love with him.
For someone with sharp instincts, he was apparently pretty slow. He’d almost bought the line she’d given him, and probably would have...until he’d seen her eyes. Angel eyes, the color of summer grass, and filled with the same shy yearning and loneliness he’d noticed the first time he’d seen her. But now there was also love in those eyes...and pain. Pain that he had caused. Josie did want him, even thought she was in love with him. And Lord knows, he wanted her and cared about her. Maybe too much. Because a part of him almost wished his memory wouldn’t come back, that he could just stay here with Josie and the twins, take her love and try to be the man she thought he was.
But each time he recalled looking into that evil face, hearing that cold, empty voice give the order for him to be killed he knew that he couldn’t take that chance. Not when it meant putting Josie, and possibly even the twins, in danger. No. In was best this way. He’d meant what he’d told her. He was bad news, and the more he discovered about himself, the more sure he was of that fact. There were some gambles a man couldn’t afford to take, and staying with Josie was one of them. For her sake, he would have to walk away, even it it meant hurting her.
But in order to walk away, he had to know where to go More important, for Josie’s and the twins’ sakes, he needed to know who and what would be waiting for him at the other end. That meant he didn’t have the luxury of waiting for the rest of his memory to return. He had to find the answers he needed.
Heading back to the kitchen, he tried his best to ignore the soft hum of Josie’s voice as she crooned a lullaby in the next room. Somehow, some way, he told himself, he had to find those answers. Once he had them, he would get out of her life. It was the right thing to do, he reasoned. Just as it had been the right thing for him to pretend to be asleep last night and for him not to take advantage of her attraction to him.
“Hush little baby, don’t you cry...”
But he’d be damned if doing the right thing was proving to be easy, Blake decided, as the sound of Josie’s voice teased him. Snatching up the phone, he punched out the number for directory assistance. And as he listened to the phone ring at the other end of the line, he tried not to think about how sweet the lullaby sounded, or how much he wanted the woman singing it.
Yet call after call and throughout the rest of the day, he thought about Josie, wanted Josie. Even sometime after midmght, when exhaustion claimed him and he collapsed on the couch and fell asleep, he was thinking of Josie, wanting Josie.
Blake was still thinking of Josie and wanting her when he came awake with a start two hours later. He’d dreamed of being on the boat again, only this time as he sped away from the bullets and aimed for a distant shore, Josie had been on that other shore waiting for him. Sitting up, he shoved his hands through his sweat-damp hair. His heart still racing, he held his aching head In his hands, worked to slow his pulse rate back to normal. Once he had achieved that feat, he rose and started for the bathroom to get some aspirin.
Then he heard it-Josie singing. It was just the faintest of sounds, a few musical notes floating ever so softly from the babies’ room down the hall and out into the darkness to him. Her voice seemed to call to him, swirl around him, caress him. His gut clenched at the erotic images going through his mind. He wanted to go to her, to surround himself in her sweetness, in her light, in her warmth. He gritted his teeth, told himself he couldn’t. Turning away from the beckoning sound of her voice, Blake shoved open the door to the bath room instead.
But the trip to the bathroom didn’t help. Not only did he not find any aspirin in his search of the medicine cabinet, bu when he opened the door to exit, Josie was still singing. Only now the sound had grown infinitely sweeter, infinitely more compelling, and impossible to resist.
Like the Pied Piper’s flute, her voice called to him, drew him with the same powerful magic. He meant to go back to the den. He truly did. But his feet started moving in the opposite direction toward the nursery and the sound of Josie’s voice. Pausing just outside the doorway, Blake told himsel he just wanted to look inside, to make sure everything was okay with her and the twins. So he moved a step closer and glanced into the room. And the air backed up into his lungs Pale light fell from a corner lamp, painting the room in an almost ethereal glow. The old-fashioned rocker made a gentle swooshing noise as it swayed back and forth. But it was the woman seated in that rocker who stole his breath away. Josie With a baby’s head pressed against her breast, she sang a soft, dreamy song about a sandman to the child in her arms Tonight she hadn’t bothered with the worn, cotton robe, and the satiny blue gown draped her woman’s body. Her hai hung free, a waterfall of black silk that spilled down her shoulders and back, falling nearly to her waist. But it was the look of maternal love on her face that made his throa grow thick with emotion. She reminded him of Raphael‘s Madonna and Child. Only this was no priceless painting.
This was Josie. Josie of the shy green eyes. Josie of the musical laugh. Josie of the too-soft, too-giving heart. He wanted to go to her, to be a part of that beautiful picture before him. He wanted to have her look up at him with those shy green eyes, to hear the sound of her musical laughter He wanted to lose himself in her softness and sweetness and warmth.
As though she’d known he was there, Josie glanced up, and her eyes met his across the room. Her gaze dipped lower, taking in his bare chest and pajama bottoms, before shooting back up to his face. But it was too late. He’d seen the quiet yearning as she’d looked at him. He’d seen the sensual hunger. His gut tightened instantly in response. When he could find his
voice, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Did you need something?” she whispered.
Desire clawing at him, Blake beat back the urge to tell her that what he needed was her. He wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her now. But it was because he wanted her so desperately that he forced himself to remain where he was. He shook his head. “I was coming out of the bathroom when I heard you. I thought I’d better check to be sure everything’s okay. She all right?”
Josie’s lips curved. “How did you know it was Miranda?”
He shrugged. “Lucky guess. She’s been pretty fussy lately.”
“I know. But she’s fine. Just a little restless. She’s asleep now,” Josie said, standing up slowly. “I was just about to put her back to bed.”
With Miranda cradled in her arms, the neck of her gown dipped and pulled tautly across Josie’s breasts, emphasizing their fullness and the dark rosy tips of her nipples. Swallowing hard, Blake forced his gaze upward. “I’ll get out of your way so you can get back to bed. I’m going to hit the sack again, too, just as soon as I find some aspirin.” He started to turn away, knowing if he didn’t get out of there quickly he was liable to make a mistake both of them would regret.
“Blake, wait,” she said in a loud whisper.
He cut a glance back at her. “Yeah?”
“The aspirin isn’t in the bathroom. I took some before I went to bed earlier and left the bottle on my nightstand.” She stroked a finger along the baby’s face. “Give me a second to make sure she’s down, and I’ll get them for you. Or, if you want, you’re welcome to go get them yourself.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, dragging his eyes from the sight of those long slender fingers and the effect watching them was having on his body. “I don’t need any aspirin after all. My head’s feeling better. I’ll just see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”
But Josie couldn’t sleep. She was wound up tighter than a spring. And, of course, Blake was the cause. Her foolish heart had stuttered when she’d discovered him standing in the doorway watching her earlier, but it had been the intensity, the strength of need and longing she’d seen in those dark eyes of his that had stunned her, touched her too deeply. He’d had the look of a desperate man, a man at the end of his rope. And it was that lonely desperation she’d seen in his eyes that haunted her now.
Kicking off the covers, Josie sat on the side of the bed, giving up on the notion of sleep. She couldn’t. Not when her head and heart were in such a state of confusion. The house was as quiet as a church, something she’d never minded in the past. She did mind it now because she could hear Blake out there on the couch, tossing and turning. Evidently, he didn’t seem to be having an easy time going to sleep, either.
As she wondered at the source of his insomnia, she recalled that tightly leashed control she’d sensed in Blake as he’d watched her. Was it possible she really was the source of all that raw need in him tonight? The idea that she might be sent a tremor of hope up her spine. If she was right, and Blake did want her that desperately, could she have been wrong about last night? He’d been warning her off almost from the start. Had his pretending to be asleep last night been his way of protecting her? Suddenly it all made perfect sense. It would be just like the hardheaded man to try to protect her from himself.
She heard a muffled swear from the den, then the sound of Blake getting up and moving about. Her heartbeat quickened as she heard him coming down the hall. When he paused outside her door, Josie held her breath, hoping, wanting him to come to her. As impossible as it seemed, Blake did desire her. He even needed her. She’d read that desire and need in his eyes tonight, sensed it in the tense way he’d held his body. Maybe desire and need would be enough, she told herself, and waited for him to come into her room—to come to her. When he continued down the hall, disappointment hit her like a smack.
So what are you going to do, Josie? Bury your head under the pillow and cry?
She’d never been much on crying. She didn’t want to be protected—not from the man that she loved. And she did love him, she admitted, seeing no point in denying the truth. Oh, she wouldn’t lie to herself. She knew Blake didn’t love her, that the two of them had no future together.
But there was now, her heart whispered.
And the man she loved needed her. Josie swung her legs over the side of the bed, then hesitated. What if he rejected her? Could her pride survive the rejection?
How much comfort will your pride be when he’s gone?
Very little, she decided. At least this way she would help him feel less alone, and maybe in the process she would create her own memory. A memory to comfort her when he was no longer here. She reached for her robe, then decided against it. What was the point? He’d already seen her without it, and maybe...maybe it would be enough. Maybe she would be enough. Wearing only the pale blue satin gown, she grabbed the bottle of aspirin from her nightstand and started down the hall.
With her heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, Josie paused outside the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear water running inside. Scared, nerves rattling, for a moment she nearly ran back to her room. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself. All she had was her pride. What if she lost that, too? Then she thought of the way Blake had looked—alone, lost, desperate, and she pushed open the door.
Blake stood in front of the porcelain sink, naked from the waist up, with his hands bracing both sides of the sink while he doused his head beneath the faucet. Shutting off the water, he heaved a deep sigh and lifted his head. Water streamed down his neck and face, while drops clung to a head of dark gold hair that looked like he’d raked his fingers through it one too many times. He buried his face in the ends of the towel draped around his neck. When he finished, he braced his hands on the sink again and stared into the mirror.
Lord, but he was beautiful, Josie thought, studying the sharp angles and planes of his face. The nearly two-weeks’ worth of whiskers and the bandage on his forehead only added an edge of danger to his appearance. Her gaze met his in the mirror, and Josie’s heart kicked against her ribs. His dark eyes were fixed on her, burning with a fire so intense she could almost feel the heat. His body had gone rigid and looked so unyielding that Josie thought surely if she touched him he would break.
He glared at the bottle of aspirin she held in her hand. “I said I didn’t want any aspirin.”
She heard the warning in his voice, but ignored it. “What about me, Blake? Do you want me?”
Desire flashed in his eyes, fire hot and lightning quick, before he snapped them shut. “Go back to bed, Josie,” he commanded, his voice sandpaper rough.
“Come with me.” Moving a step closer, she touched his shoulder. “Please.”
Muscles tensed beneath her fingers, but she felt the shudder run through him. When he opened his eyes, they were wild, desperate. He looked like a drowning man going under for the third time. “You don’t have a clue what you’re inviting. Leave, Josie. Now! Go back to bed and forget about me. I told you. I’m bad news. I have nothing to offer you.”
“I’m not asking you for anything, Blake. I’m the one offering.” And her eyes never leaving his in the mirror, Josie offered him her love, her heart, her body. Unable to give him the words, she tried to show him. Opening the buttons of her gown, she let the blue satin fall to the floor. She stood naked behind him in the tiny bathroom, feeling more vulnerable, more exposed, than she had at any other time in her life. Emotions and nerves clogged in her throat. She wanted to cover herself, to turn off the light. But she didn’t move. She could feel the burn of his eyes as he watched her in the mirror. The rigid line of his back echoed the strength of his control, but the hunger in his eyes gave her hope, gave her courage. Josie pressed her lips against his bare shoulder, and she tried to tell him with her kiss what was in her heart. That it was okay to need her. That she needed him, too. That she loved him. That she wanted him.
> Swearing, Blake whipped around and caught her by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her bare flesh. Instinctively she clutched at his arms to keep her balance, and felt the coiled muscles, the ripcord power beneath the flesh. Josie stared up at him, took in the wet hair, the taut expression on his face, the soft mouth pulled into a forbidding frown. She held her breath, waited, feeling as though she were back on the top of that jungle gym again with the hard, cold ground waiting to greet her when she fell. Then she looked into Blake’s eyes, and her fears vanished. A fierce storm of longing, of need, swirled in those dark eyes. No man had ever wanted her like Blake did. No man had ever needed her like Blake did.
And she had never loved anyone the way she loved him. She slid her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, looped them around his neck and pressed her mouth against his. At the touch of her lips, that end of the rope he’d been holding on to so tightly snapped.
He crushed her to him. “I’ll probably burn in hell for this someday, but I don’t care,” he muttered. “I want you.” Then he devoured her...with hungry kisses, demanding kisses, kisses that made her body ache, made her blood spin and set her on fire with need. When she thought she might surely go mad, his mouth softened, and he plotted a trail of gentle kisses, tender kisses, along her chin, her cheek, her eyes. The sweetness of those kisses proved equally shattering.
Josie grabbed his face between her hands and pulled his mouth down to her own. When his lips touched hers this time, the kiss was so gentle, so tender, so loving that she nearly wept. That he didn’t love her, that she didn’t have a prayer of building any kind of future with this man didn’t matter. Not now. Not when she was in his arms, not when she could feel the beat of his heart next to hers. And she wanted. She wanted so much.