“You’re staring at me,” he said, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
She reached out and placed her palm on his cheek. “I like looking at you,” she replied. “You have a nice face, Lucas Washington, but you have the eyes of an old soul.”
“Growing up with a father like mine, I guess I aged quickly,” he replied. “And if I wasn’t a man when I joined the navy, I quickly became one.”
She dropped her hand from his face and frowned thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine what you went through. Even though I don’t have any real specific memories, I think I had a happy childhood.”
“I’m glad. I’d like you to have happy memories from your childhood. I can tell you this—you don’t have a criminal record of any kind.”
She looked at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”
He looked slightly sheepish. “I took a glass you’d used to a buddy of mine who works in the crime lab. He got your fingerprints off the glass and ran it through the system. You weren’t in there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you did that?”
“I just told you.” He smiled. “I didn’t want to tell you before I knew the results.”
“That’s definitely a relief. But what would you have done if I was some sort of criminal?” she asked curiously.
“I guess I would have had to handcuff you and turn you over to my friend Wendall,” he replied with a teasing light. “Of course, it’s possible you’re just a very smart, good criminal and have never been caught.”
She moved closer to him, reveling in the scent of him, the warmth of his body radiating out to her. She didn’t particularly want to talk. What she wanted was for him to wrap her in his arms. She wanted to feel his lips against hers once again. She wanted to caress his bare skin. She wanted things she shouldn’t want, things she was afraid to want.
As she looked at him she forgot what they’d been talking about. All she could think about was how much she wanted a man like Lucas in her life. No, that wasn’t true. She wanted Lucas himself in her life. Not just during this time of uncertainty but always.
Of course that was impossible. He’d let her know in every way that he didn’t want any kind of lasting relationship. And why would he want a woman carrying another man’s child? A woman who was in some kind of trouble?
Still, that didn’t stop her from wanting him now. Tomorrow she might wake up with all her memories intact and she’d be on her way back to her former life. But she had tonight. Was it so wrong for her to want to be held, to want to feel loved? “Kiss me, Lucas,” she said. “Wrap me up in your arms and kiss me.”
His eyes widened and then narrowed. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
She might have thought he just didn’t want to if it wasn’t for the pulsing knot in his jaw, the burn in his eyes and the tension in his body.
He wanted her. She felt it radiating from him, saw it spark in the depth of his eyes. She’d heard it in his husky voice.
“I don’t care.” She reached out and placed her hand on his broad, firm chest. “I know the score, Lucas. I’ll probably be out of your life within a matter of days, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you tonight, right now.”
The words were barely out of her mouth as his lips touched hers. Feather-soft, they plied hers with heat. But a soft, gentle kiss wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted more. She wanted hard and hot and breathless. She wanted overwhelming and mindless.
She leaned into him, opening her mouth to him, and he responded, swirling his tongue with hers as he pulled her into his arms.
Even with the bulk of her belly, she fit neatly in his arms, as if she belonged, as if she’d never been in another man’s arms.
She knew he was aroused. She could tell by his accelerated breathing, by the way his arms tightened around her. His mouth left hers and he trailed kisses down the length of her neck as she ran her hands across his back. She could feel the ridges of his scars and she wanted to kiss them, to somehow caress them away.
Even though she desperately wanted him to make love to her, she knew that wasn’t an option. Although she realized sex was usually okay for pregnant women, she’d also heard that in the later stages of pregnancy having sex might induce labor. She didn’t want to take that chance, no matter how slim it might be. But she wanted to give him pleasure.
She began to pull up his shirt from the waist, wanting it off, needing to feel his bare skin beneath her fingers. He pulled away from her, and his chest heaved with his rapid breathing. “What are you doing, Jane?” His low, hoarse voice shot a thrill through her.
“I want to love you, Lucas. I want to run my hands across your bare skin. Let me.” She touched his shirt. “Take it off and let me love you.”
He seemed to freeze, his only movement the rise and fall of his chest as he held her gaze. For a single agonizing moment she thought he was going to spring from the bed and run from the room, from her. But instead he sat up and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.
When he lay back down she placed her face against his chest, loving the warmth of his skin, the rapid beat of his heart beneath her ear. She ran her hands down the length of his chest and he moaned in response.
Her mouth followed her hands, nipping and kissing the heated skin as his hands tangled in her hair. She loved the taste of him, the scent of clean male that clung to him, and when she reached the waist of his jeans she knew she wanted all of him.
Giving pleasure was as exciting, as stimulating as getting it, Jane thought, especially when you were giving it to somebody you cared about.
It didn’t take long before Lucas was clad only in his briefs and her caresses and kisses grew more fevered. There was no other thought in her mind but him.
At the moment the past and the future didn’t matter. It was just the two of them in the intimacy of the moment. It was she who pulled at his briefs, and when he kicked them off, she wrapped her fingers around his hard length as his mouth found hers in a kiss that seared her to her toes.
She stroked him as he gasped in pleasure against her mouth. She knew that Lucas was a man she’d never forget, that he had etched her heart with an indelible mark that time and circumstance would never erase. And she wanted to be somebody he would never forget.
She felt the rise of his release in his pulsing hardness and moved her hand faster, wanting to take him over the edge, to give him a night with her to remember.
And when he reached the peak, he cried out her name. The only regret she had was that it wasn’t really her name, that she might never hear her real name from his lips.
Afterward he got out of bed without a word and left the room. Instantly, worry rippled through her. Had she offended him with her aggressiveness? Was he angry about what had just happened?
She crept from her bed and went across the hall to the bathroom, heard the sound of running water and realized there must be another bathroom in his master bedroom.
She returned to her bed and lay in the dark, worried about the consequences of what had just happened. Did he think she was terrible? That she was nothing more than a tramp who would fall in bed with anyone?
Moments later he returned to her room, slid back into bed and pulled her into his arms. It was only then she breathed a sigh of relief.
“You realize that was incredibly stupid of us,” he finally said.
“It didn’t feel stupid,” she countered. “It felt wonderful.” She raised her head from his chest to look up at him. “Oh, Lucas, you don’t have to worry about me expecting more from you than you can give. Everything that has happened to me feels like an out-of-body experience, but I know what just happened between us has nothing to do with real life.”
She sighed and dropped her head to his chest once again, where she could hear the solid beat of his heart. “I don’t know anything about my past and I certainly can’t guess what my future might hold. I just wanted to be with you tonight…a single night in the limbo that has become my life.”
He leaned up slightly and turned out the bedside lamp, then tightened his arms around her. “Maybe we’ll know more when we confront Charles Blankenship in the morning. For now, get some sleep.”
She closed her eyes, and for the first time since all this began, she wasn’t afraid. She felt protected and warm with Lucas’s arms around her and it took her only minutes to drift off to sleep.
The dream began almost immediately. She was in a church and there were flowers everywhere, filling the interior with sweet fragrance. There was joy in the air and the people in the pews all wore smiles.
Three men stood at the altar, all of them clad in black tuxedos with crisp white shirts and turquoise bowties.
It was a wedding. The groom stood with his back to her and as she gazed at him, her heart filled with happiness. As the traditional wedding march began she started down the aisle, her long, white, silk dress swishing around her legs.
Her heart thudded and she wanted to run to him, to start their life together right now. Lucas, her heart sang, as she stopped herself from running to his side.
Finally she reached where he stood and he turned to look at her, a smile on his handsome face. She froze.
Not Lucas. The man who reached for her hand, the groom, was a man she couldn’t remember ever seeing before.
She woke with a gasp, her heart thundering a frantic beat. She opened her eyes to the darkness of the bedroom, aware of Lucas’s slow, even breathing as he slept beside her.
A dream, she told herself. It was nothing more than a crazy dream. And yet even as she said those words to herself, she knew the truth. It hadn’t been a dream.
It had been a memory.
Chapter Nine
“Anything about the house look familiar?” Lucas asked as he pulled into Charles Blankenship’s driveway the next morning. He looked over at Jane, who frowned thoughtfully as she looked at the two-story beige house in front of them.
It was just after ten on another gray, cold day. Breakfast had been awkward. He hadn’t been able to get the night before out of his mind.
“No,” Jane replied. “It doesn’t look familiar at all. I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.”
Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap and he could feel her tension. He’d tried to talk her into not coming with him, but she’d been adamant.
“It’s my life, Lucas,” she’d exclaimed stubbornly, “and if seeing this man in person makes me remember everything, then it’s worth any risk.”
The problem was Lucas didn’t know exactly what risk this might entail. What if Charles Blankenship was some kind of crazy maniac?
They were in his car. Lucas hadn’t wanted anyone to get a look at the rental car. He figured Charles had already seen his vehicle, so it made sense to drive it here.
Once again he turned to look at Jane. “When I get out of the car I want you to scoot across and get behind the wheel,” he said. “If anything goes wrong, if I get hurt, then I want you to get the hell out of here. Drive back to the safe house and call Micah or Troy.”
Her eyes widened and she reached out and grabbed his hand in hers. She squeezed tightly as she held his gaze. “Surely you aren’t expecting anything like that?”
“I don’t know what to expect,” he replied. He pulled his hand from hers. “We don’t know what these people are capable of, but I need to know that you’d do exactly what I told you. If anything goes wrong you drive away and don’t look back. Promise me, Jane.”
He could tell it was a promise she didn’t want to make, but as she placed her hands on her stomach and rubbed, she nodded. He knew she would do it for her baby, if not for herself. “I promise,” she replied softly.
Lucas opened the car door, and the cold wind slapped his face as he got out of the car. His coat was open, allowing him fast access to his gun if he needed it.
He walked to the front door, then turned to make sure Jane had done as he’d asked. She was in the driver seat, her wide eyes watching him closely.
At least if anything bad happened she’d be able to pull out of the driveway and get the hell out of Dodge. He turned back around and knocked on the door.
This might be a foolish move, but they were stymied, and for the first time since this had all begun he felt like he was playing offense instead of defense.
He knocked once again and the man himself opened the door. Clad in a pair of dress slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt, Charles Blankenship couldn’t quite hide the look of surprise that flashed across his blunt features before he schooled them into the curious interest of a stranger. “May I help you?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’d like to know why yesterday evening you chased me through the streets of Kansas City,” Lucas said. He didn’t intend to waste time playing games with this man.
Charles’s gaze shot over Lucas’s shoulder to the car, and again a flash of surprise lit his eyes, quickly masked as he looked back at Lucas. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he bluffed.
“Oh, I think you do,” Lucas replied.
The two men stared at each other for a tense space of time; then Charles sighed and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You cut me off and it made me mad. I’m not proud of my actions. Chalk it up to road rage,” he said.
Irritation burned in Lucas’s gut. “That wasn’t road rage,” he said as he took a step closer to the door. “You were following me. You know the woman in the car?”
“Does she know me?” he countered with a touch of belligerence.
Lucas considered his options. He could tell this man the truth, that Jane didn’t have her memories, and see what happened next, or he could bluff. He opted for something in between.
“She hit her head and she’s having some memory issues. She doesn’t specifically remember you, but she thinks you look familiar. Her memories are coming back every day, and if she remembers that you hurt her, I’ll come back here and make you sorry. Got it?”
“There’s no need to threaten me,” Charles exclaimed.
Lucas offered him a tight smile. “Trust me, that wasn’t a threat, that was a promise.”
“Look, I don’t know that woman, and I already told you I acted badly yesterday. You cut me off and I allowed my anger to take control. It was a simple case of road rage and nothing more. I’m sorry. There, I’ve apologized. Now get off my porch before I call the police.”
“If I see your car anywhere around me, I’ll be the one calling the police,” Lucas replied as he backed away from the door.
He returned to the car, still watching the door, not willing to turn his back on the man. By the time he reached the car, Jane had scooted back into the passenger seat.
He got in and backed the car out of the drive, a new sense of frustration tying a hard knot in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m not sure exactly what I thought would happen, but this accomplished absolutely nothing,” he said as he pulled away, his focus as always divided between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.
Jane reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. Even through the bulk of his coat he could feel her heat, and his irritation grew.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize him.”
“You can’t do what you can’t do,” he replied, grateful as she pulled her hand away.
He was also grateful for her silence as they drove back to the safe house. He needed to think, not about what had just transpired with Charles Blankenship, but rather how much longer he could continue to do this, to be responsible for her, to be around her twenty-four hours a day.
The lovemaking of the night before had definitely messed with his mind. Waking up this morning with her spooned against him had been overwhelmingly nice.
Her hair had been a sweet tickle beneath his nose, and the warmth of her body had pressed intimately against his own.
For a few minutes he’d simply remained there, imagining what it would be like to wake up with her every morning for the rest
of his life, reluctant to leave her side.
Things were spiraling out of his control. He was spiraling out of control. He was getting too close, wanting things he knew weren’t good for him, weren’t good for her.
And he wasn’t the only one. She was getting in too deep, as well. He felt it in her most simple touch; saw it in her eyes whenever she looked at him; felt it in his heart, in his soul as she’d caressed him the night before.
They couldn’t continue this indefinitely. It might take weeks or months for her memory to completely return. There was no way he could do a couple more weeks, let alone a month or two with her. He had to figure out how much longer he was willing to give her and how he was going to tell her that sooner or later he was going to bail.
Once they were back in the house she went to her bedroom to rest and Lucas paced the kitchen, too restless to sit.
The fact that Charles Blankenship had lied to him wasn’t surprising. What he’d really hoped was that Jane would see the house or the man and all her memories would come tumbling back.
Charles had lied when he said he didn’t know her. He’d lied about everything. Why?
What had happened to her? What had been so terrible that she’d not only run away, but had also shoved the memories of her entire life into the darkest recesses of her mind?
By the time she got up from her nap and joined him in the kitchen, he’d fried burgers and had opened a can of baked beans for dinner. He added a bag of chips to the table and they sat down to eat.
They talked about inconsequential things, the weather, an article in a magazine she was reading, how Kansas City was growing by leaps and bounds.
They didn’t talk about men in white vans or all-seeing eye symbols or lost memories. Although the conversation remained pleasant, in the back of his mind Lucas was trying to figure out how to tell her that he was reaching the end of his rope, that it was time they considered going to the authorities for help.
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