Always

by Iris Johansen

  THE WARM NIGHT air was like a gentle caress against her cheek, and the moonlight silvered the dark waters of the surf beneath her balcony with an exquisite radiance. It was winter in New York now, Lisa remembered with a shiver. She had always hated winter. What would it be like to live forever on an island where winter never came? Wearily she brushed back a lock of hair from her temple. She would never know, and it was foolishly fanciful even to wonder. Singing engagements on tropical islands came very rarely. She had been elated when her agent had told her about the offer of this job on Paradise Cay, and she’d jumped at the chance to get away from the snows and slush of New York.

  Well, it was obvious she had jumped too readily at the carrot Clancy Donahue had dangled before her. Martin again. Would she never be free of him? Sometimes she felt he would always be there, casting a dark shadow, igniting memories of Tommy—No, she mustn’t think. As long as she didn’t think, that part of her remained frozen and blessedly painless. She had fought hard to gain that shield of ice, that forgetfulness. If she’d been forced to yield laughter and a zest for life in exchange, she still regarded it as a fair trade.

  The phone rang and she started in surprise. It was after midnight and she knew no one who would call at this hour.

  Except Martin.

  For the past three years, Martin had called her at all hours of the day or night from whatever part of the world he happened to be in. It had done no good to change her telephone number; he always found out the new one eventually. She wouldn’t answer it at all, she thought with swift panic. But she knew she would. She always did. She turned and strode swiftly to the bedside table in her room and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Are you all right?” Clancy Donahue’s tone was harsh. “For heaven’s sake, the phone nearly rang off the hook.”

  She felt limp with relief and sank down on the bed. “Of course I’m all right.” She drew a deep breath and tried to steady her heartbeat. “It’s after midnight. Didn’t it occur to you that I might be sleeping?”

  “Were you?”

  She didn’t answer the question. “Why are you calling, Mr. Donahue? I thought we had said all there was to say.”

  There was a short silence. “I decided to give you a chance to change your mind,” he said finally. “Will you help us?”

  “No, I will not,” she said. “You don’t seem to be able to understand a refusal, Mr. Donahue. My bags are packed and I have reservations on the eight o’clock flight to Miami. You can look elsewhere for bait for your trap.”

  “You’re the only bait Baldwin finds appetizing,” he said tersely. “You’re quite sure?”

  She sighed. “I’m quite sure. Give up, Mr. Donahue.”

  “Why? The battle has just begun.” His voice lowered. “I’m sorry. Believe me, I didn’t want it this way.”

  He rang off before she could reply, and a faint frown knotted her brow as she slowly replaced the receiver. Donahue’s last remark had filled her with uneasiness. The man himself made her uneasy. He was one of those bigger-than-life figures one ran into—thankfully—with great rarity. He was too much of everything for her to feel comfortable. Too intelligent, too confident, too virile. He emitted an aura of power that disturbed her. It was just as well she was leaving tomorrow. Nothing must be allowed to break through the wall that surrounded her emotions, and she had an idea that Clancy Donahue didn’t believe there was a wall in existence that he couldn’t burst through. Yes, it was just as well she wouldn’t see him again.

  Lisa stood up and strode into the bathroom. She opened a small plastic container, took out two sleeping pills, and swallowed them quickly. Although she had been cutting down on the medication for the last two months, she knew she was too upset to sleep dreamlessly tonight. And the dreams must not come. Not again. She set her travel alarm, took off her robe, and slipped between the sheets. Then she reached over to flick off the light and settled back against the pillows. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply and tried to relax every muscle and empty her mind of everything. She felt a tiny flutter of panic in the pit of her stomach and crushed it down swiftly. There was no reason to be frightened. The sleeping pills would take hold soon and there would be no dreams. No dreams at all.…

  There were dreams, but they weren’t the heavy, somber nightmares that she had dreaded. These were strangely disjointed fragments, a sharp prick on her arm, masculine voices, lights, and then the dreams were lost in shifting darkness that billowed and flowed with moments of misty clarity.

  “Dammit, she’s unconscious. That drug was only a mild sedative. It shouldn’t have knocked her out. How the hell much did you give her?” Clancy Donahue’s rough voice. She supposed it wasn’t all that unusual. One of the last things on her mind before she had gone to sleep had been Donahue, but she wished he wouldn’t sound so angry.

  “I gave her the dosage you told me.” A younger voice … definitely defensive. “How did I know she was on sleeping pills? We found these in the bathroom, when we couldn’t wake her up.”

  “Damn, this prescription is potent. I don’t even know if the drugs are dangerous to mix. I’ll have to call the lab in Sedikhan. Watch her closely. If there’s any sign of respiratory failure or deepening unconsciousness, call me on the double.”

  The darkness deepened again. She was being carried. Mint. Donahue. The same after shave she had noticed earlier in her dressing room. It was fresh and pleasant, just as the arms that were holding her were pleasant. Warm and strong and as gentle as his voice was harsh. She made a contented sound deep in her throat that was almost a purr and nestled her cheek closer against that hard, muscular chest. How wonderful to relax and be held so protectively. Surely arms this strong could keep away the dreams. “Safe.” The word was only a whisper.

  The arms tightened around her. “That’s right.” Donahue’s voice was no longer harsh, but velvet soft. “You’re safe, Lisa. I’ll keep you safe from now on.”

  It wasn’t true. No one could keep her safe from the dreams. Yet it was nice to pretend for a little while. “Thank you,” she murmured drowsily.

  His chuckle was a bit husky as it reverberated beneath her ear. “I doubt if you’ll be quite as grateful to me when you regain consciousness.” She was being placed on something soft and cushioned, and the arms were suddenly gone. She muttered a protest. “It’s all right, I’m still here.” The mattress sank beneath his weight, and he gathered her hands in his warm clasp. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I won’t let you go.” One hand loosened its clasp to brush an errant tress back from her forehead and then began to stroke the hair at her temple. “Go to sleep.”

  “You’ll keep the dreams away?”

  His hand halted its motion for the briefest instant before resuming the stroking. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Oh, yes, please,” she whispered. “That’s what I want.”

  “Then I’ll keep the dreams away. Go to sleep, Lisa. I won’t let the dreams come back.”

  She could almost believe him. She let the resistance flow out of her and the darkness take her.

  She was asleep. Carefully Clancy released Lisa’s hands and stood up. According to what the lab had told him, she would be unconscious for at least ten to twelve hours; yet he was reluctant to leave her. She looked so damned alone. Her honey-beige hair, fanned out on the white pillow, was as tumbled and silky as a small child’s. Her lips were pink and crumpled, slightly parted with the deepness of her breathing. She was probably no longer aware that he was with her, but somehow it made no difference. He had promised that he would protect her, that he would keep away the dreams she feared so much. What nightmares could be so terrible that fear of them would pierce a drug-induced sleep as deep as Lisa’s? He had a sudden irresistible compulsion to know.

  He strode to the door and grabbed his suitcase, which he hadn’t yet bothered to unpack. Setting it down on the low padded bench at the foot of the king-sized bed, he unsnapped it and threw open the lid. The dossier on Lisa Landon was on top.
He’d scanned it briefly before boarding the plane in L.A., planning to go through it thoroughly later. At the time he’d been more interested in Baldwin’s relationship with his ex-wife than in any more personal details. Now he wanted to know everything about the woman curled up on his bed like a bereft child. He dragged the cane chair across the room and settled himself as comfortably as possible. The chair wasn’t built for a man of his size, he thought wearily. It was going to be as uncomfortable as the devil by the time Lisa woke up. Well, he’d been a hell of a lot more uncomfortable any number of times in his life for less reason. He slipped off his shoes and propped his feet on the bed. Then he opened the manila folder and began to read about Lisa Landon.

  One moment Lisa was sleeping deeply and the next she was wide awake. Ice-blue eyes were narrowed on her face. Clancy Donahue’s eyes. But what was he doing in her room? “What are you …” She sat up straight in the bed and then wished she hadn’t moved so quickly as the room whirled in dark, sweeping circles around her.

  She heard a muttered curse from Donahue. Then he was sitting beside her on the bed, his hands cupping her shoulders, steadying her. “Easy. Do you always wake up this abruptly?”

  “No. Yes.” Her head was muzzy and she shook it, but she still couldn’t seem to think straight. “I don’t know.” She did know, however, that something was very wrong about Clancy Donahue being here in her room. Her tongue felt coated and her words were slightly slurred. “You shouldn’t …”

  “Lie down.” He pushed her back on the pillow. “Give yourself time to wake up and come to terms with the situation before you decide to take me on.” He smiled grimly. “I’m sure that time will come soon enough.”

  “What are you doing in my room?” But it wasn’t her room! she suddenly realized. The bed she was lying on was king-, not queen-sized, the spread dark blue, not charcoal-and-yellow stripes, the walls beige, not pale gray. She was still wearing the same tailored white satin pajamas, but everything else was wildly, terribly wrong. Her eyes widened with shock and she tried to sit up again.

  The movement was immediately frustrated by Donahue’s hands on her shoulders pressing her back down. “No, it’s not your room,” he said quietly. “You’re no longer at the hotel. This is my bedroom at a villa located about a half mile from the casino. There’s no reason to be afraid. You’re perfectly safe and will remain so. I promise you.”

  “Your bedroom?” Lisa stared at him in stunned disbelief. “What am I doing …” She stopped as she remembered the disjointed half dreams that had plagued her sleep. “You kidnapped me,” she whispered. She couldn’t believe it. “You actually kidnapped me?”

  He nodded. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “I have to get Baldwin. I told you that.”

  “So you kidnapped me,” she said. “Another trap, you said. I wouldn’t act as bait in the trap, so you just moved the bait to another trap.” She raised her hand and pushed the hair away from her forehead. “Is that what you did?”

  “That’s what I did. I told you I wanted your cooperation. I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

  “Sorry!” The anger was curling through her veins, burning away the haze that had befuddled her senses. “Dammit, you kidnapped me and all you can say is that you’re sorry? You committed a crime!”

  “Yes, I know.” Clancy frowned. “I wish you’d try to go back to sleep. We can discuss this later. According to the doctors, you should have slept another five hours. I’m not sure this upset is good for you.”

  “You don’t think it’s normal for me to be upset about being kidnapped? It may be commonplace in your lifestyle, but it’s not in mine.” Her eyes were blazing up at him. “I’ve never been kidnapped before.”

  His lips tightened. “I don’t go around kidnapping people off the streets, Miss Landon.”

  “No? Should I be flattered that you selected me?” She struggled to a sitting position, throwing off his hands. “Well, I’m not, Mr. Donahue. I’m mad as hell.”

  “I can see that,” he said dryly. “I didn’t expect anything else. However, I’m afraid you’ll have to resign yourself to the fact and make yourself as comfortable as possible. You’re here, and you’ll remain here until Baldwin shows up.”

  “The hell I will.” She leaped out of bed and started to run toward the door. But there was something wrong with her legs. They felt weak and flaccid, and her head was whirling again. There was a sudden sharp pain as she stumbled blindly and fell to her knees on the carpet.

  Vaguely Lisa heard Donahue’s low curse, and then he was on his knees beside her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His arms were about her, her face crushed against his chest. Mint and soap and musk again, she thought dully. “I told you that you should stay in bed. You had a drug overdose. How the hell do you expect to go running around when you can hardly hold your head up?”

  “I wasn’t running around. I was escaping,” she muttered. Even through the whirling darkness it seemed important that the distinction be made. Desperately she clutched his sweater to try and steady herself. “Drugs?”

  “We gave you a harmless sedative. We had no idea that you took sleeping pills.” His arms tightened around her. “You shouldn’t take the damn things, anyway. Why the hell do you?”

  “I need them.” The darkness was clearing again. She tried to raise her head from his chest, but discovered it felt far too heavy. “Besides, it’s none of your business.”

  “Isn’t it?” It was almost a growl. “The hell it’s not.” He was suddenly on his feet, pulling her with him. “You’re my business from now on.” He lifted her up and carried her to the bed. “I think it’s about time you were someone’s concern. You sure as hell don’t seem to be able to take care of yourself.”

  She knew she should resent that slur on her independence. And she would—as soon as she could muster enough strength to feel anything at all. “I need the sleeping pills,” she whispered again. It seemed important that he realize that.

  “Not anymore.” There was a thread of grimness in his voice. “We’ll find a substitute.” He placed her on the bed and covered her carefully with the sheet. “Now listen to me. Okay?” His expression was as grim as his voice had been. “I know you’re angry, and you have a perfect right to be. I’d feel the same way, but angry or not, the situation exists. You’ll either be a guest or a prisoner. The choice is entirely your own. This place is located on a stretch of private beach, and you can scream the house down and no one will hear you. There will be two men on duty at both front and back entrances at all times. If you manage to knock me out or cut my throat, as I’m sure you’re tempted to do, you’ll still have them to contend with.” He sat back down on the chair by the bed. “Here’s the way we play it. The hotel staff has been given the story that you left your singing engagement so abruptly because you’ve made a connection with a wealthy American oilman, Paul Desmond.” He indicated himself with a half-mocking gesture. “You’ve moved into a love nest down the beach and will soon be returning with him to Texas. That should bring Baldwin running.”

  “No.…”

  “I take it that’s a protest, not disagreement. We both know he’ll come, Lisa. He has a history of psychotic jealousy where you’re concerned.”

  She was having trouble keeping her lids from closing. “I won’t let you do this,” she murmured. “I’m going to get away.” Her eyes closed in spite of her struggle to keep them open. “I’m going to get away from you, Donahue.”

  Was it her imagination or did she feel a whisper-soft caress as he brushed a curl away from her temple? “It’s too late, Lisa.” The words came out of the hovering darkness, blurred but unmistakable. “You’ll never get away from me.”

  When she opened her eyes again it wasn’t Donahue’s face she saw, but one that was far less intimidating. The man who was grinning appealingly down at her was much younger and as all-American as apple pie. He was dressed casually in jeans, a wildly flowered Hawaiian shirt, and tennis shoes.

  “Hi
, I’m John Galbraith, Miss Landon. I hope to hell you’re feeling better. Clancy has been spitting like a cat for the last hour or so. He’s telephoning the lab now to yell at them for not calling the shots more accurately about your reaction to the drug.” He made a face. “Better them than me. I nearly got myself mutilated when I brought you in here in that comatose state.”

  The breezily casual statement issuing out of that boyishly appealing face shocked her into full consciousness. “You brought me here?”

  “I get all the really quality assignments,” he said sarcastically. “Kidnapping an American citizen was a natural for me.”

  She sat up in bed. Her dizziness was gone now, though there was still the trace of a headache. “A criminal assignment,” she said. “You’re going to go to prison for a long time, Mr. Galbraith.”

  “I won’t, you know,” he said softly. “Clancy wouldn’t have sent me on the job if he hadn’t had me covered. He protects his men.”

  “He’ll have trouble protecting himself this time.”

  A tiny frown wrinkled his brow. “Look, Miss Landon, I know you’re upset, but don’t make the mistake of going against Clancy. He has no intention of hurting you, but he’s not about to let you go until Baldwin surfaces. It will be a good deal pleasanter for you if you’ll accept that. Clancy is the toughest bastard I’ve ever run across. You don’t want to cross him.”

  “The hell I don’t.” Lisa could feel her anger igniting once again as she remembered the sheer arrogance, the outrageous illegality of Donahue’s actions. “At the moment, I not only want to cross him—I damn well want to draw and quarter him.” Her voice dropped to an ominously low pitch. “After I finish with you.”

  Galbraith flinched. “I’m easier meat than Clancy, but I don’t think I’d like that. You seem to be a little bloodthirsty at present. I think I’d better feed you.” He rose to his feet. “You haven’t had anything to eat for nearly twenty-four hours. I’ll go to the kitchen and see what I can whip up. You’ll find all your clothes in the closet and in the drawers of the bureau.” He gestured to a door to the right of the bed. “The bathroom’s right there. I’ll tell Clancy you’re feeling much better … well, better enough to create a little mayhem.” He was strolling toward the door across the room. “I’ll be right back with your dinner.”