Mac's Angels : Sinner and Saint. a Loveswept Classic Romance (9780345541659) (10 page)

“I've lost weight. I mean six days with only fluids will do that to you, won't it?”

“It will,” he agreed. “That's why we're going to stop at Leo's for breakfast, and you can tell me all about what you like to eat.”

“I like—I like hot tea and fruit.”

“Figures. What else?”

Karen was more than happy to direct the conversation away from her past. She'd agree to a full-course dinner at an Italian restaurant if he didn't press her to remember.

It wouldn't have done any good anyway. Her memory was still jumbled. She was confused, unable to fill in all the details yet, but somehow she knew that after her father had died, she had taken over. But she'd never been able to take her father's place.

“I don't know if they have fruit, but we'll ask. River people usually eat a little heartier than that.”

“Who's Leo?” Karen asked.

“Don't know. The restaurant has been there so long that even the owners don't know.”

She cut her eyes toward him. “Have we been there before?”

For the first time since they'd been in the Bronco, Niko really looked at her. She'd put on the boots inside the store, but she hadn't taken time to change into any of the clothing they'd bought. Now, still wearing his oversized sweats, she felt as if he could see straight through to her naked skin beneath.

Naked. If she coupled that thought with his intimate dialogue from the day before, she'd lose it. As he watched, she dropped her gaze to his hands, remembering vividly his touching her, his suggestions that they'd been lovers. Her skin shimmered with heat. Why couldn't she remember the truth?

“Have we?” she asked again. “Tell me we have, Dr. Sandor.”

“Dr. Sandor?” Her attempt at putting some distance between them struck him like a fist in the stomach.

Niko pushed aside the recurring ache in his body. The sensual relationship he'd created for her had been fantasy, but it had taken on a reality of its own in his own mind. Had they been to Leo's before? she'd asked. Niko had taken the woman's life in his hands and now he had to protect her. But with a lie? Yes, if he had to. This journey had become more than saving Karen Miller. This was his chance to go back and right another old wrong, the wrong that had been driving him for too long.

Still, now that he was faced with the question, he couldn't lie. It wasn't his style. “No. We haven't been to the island.”

“I didn't think so.”

“But you don't remember, do you?”

“No. But that's all right.” She smiled. He hadn't expected that. “I just have to look at it as an adventure, don't I?”

A flash of regret swept over him. Regret that they weren't revisiting a moment in their past. But they had no past, and her question had destroyed the illusion. Now he didn't know whether his honesty had made him angry for Niko the man or for her.

Surprising himself, he reached across the seat and took her hand in his. He needed to know the connection was still there. She didn't pull away, though she turned her attention back to the highway. He did the same. An unexpected sense of satisfaction permeated the inside of the Bronco. And, he admitted, he felt very good.

Because the traffic was light, he continued to hold her hand until he took the turnoff. The snow was heavier up there, and he was glad he had the four-wheel drive. It had been a long time since he'd been to Leo's, and he took several wrong turns before he found the place.

Finally the marina came into view and Niko pulled into one of the parking spaces adjacent to the weatherbeaten shack. For a minute he sat and looked at the building, remembering the last time he'd come.

The morning before the naming of the future Gypsy king.

The morning before his sister's wedding.

“This is Leo's?” Karen's voice jerked him back to the present.

“Yep. Don't let its appearance fool you. Leo's has the best food this side of the city.”

“From what I could tell about the city, almost anything would fit that description.”

“Oh? And did you eat out a lot?”

“No.” A blank look settled over her face. “I don't think so, but I'm not sure.”

“I'm sorry, princess,” he said softly. “I didn't mean to bring up unpleasant thoughts. Don't worry about your memory. I promise, it'll come clear.”

“I'm not sure I want to know any more,” she whispered. “I think I'd rather go with the past you've given me. I may like it better than the one I had. I just wish I could remember …”

“Remember what?”

She allowed her gaze to drop, then lifted her eyes impishly as she said, “Our making love.”

Whoa! Danger! his body signaled. Insanity, his mind responded. Both reactions were equally intense.

“You'll remember the truth,” he said more sharply than he'd intended, and reached for the door handle, when you're ready. Now I'm ready for waffles and bacon.”

As she pulled on her jacket, she watched him plod around the Bronco to her side and open the door. “I'll carry you.” He started to slide his arms around her.

“I can walk,” she insisted, turning her legs so that she could reach the ground. “Just let me lean on you.”

He started to argue with her, then, recognizing the set of her chin, stepped back and let her walk.
After a few steps into the cold, blowing wind, she allowed him to put his arm around her and she snuggled gratefully against him.

She might not remember the past, but he could tell that she was one hundred percent aware of the present. With his own temperature shooting off the chart, there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd get a chill.

Watery light filtered through the foggy restaurant windows, marked with rivulets of condensed moisture that ran down the inside of the glass like melting icicles.

A leftover Christmas bell tied to the inside handle with a frayed red ribbon jingled merrily as they entered the empty room.

“Hello inside,” Niko called out as the door closed behind him, jangling the blind hanging halfway down the door.

“Hello out there,” a feminine voice responded. “What are you eating?”

“Two orders of juice, waffles, bacon, maple syrup, and coffee. No, one coffee and one hot tea and some fruit.”

“Take a seat. I'll be right there.”

Niko walked Karen to one of the booths, leaned over, and took her arm as she sat down. He started to rise, then stopped, his face only a few inches away from hers. “Is that okay with you?”

Mesmerized by his nearness, Karen could only nod. He might not be her lover, but she wished he
were. She felt her pulse quicken and her throat threatened to close off.

He didn't move.

He was going to kiss her.

Catching the edge of her lip in her mouth, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, on the beat of her heart, on the wind whipping against the window. She trembled.

Then she felt his thumb brushing her cheek. “Don't be afraid of me, princess. I'll keep you safe. I promise.”

Karen frowned a little, trying to make sense of what he was saying, of the strong need she had to feel his arms around her. Of the growing knowledge that even though this man was a stranger, she trusted him.

She opened her eyes and looked into his dark ones. “Why are you doing this?”

“I need to do it.”

“Why do you care?”

“I need to care.”

“Do you understand how you make me feel?”

“I don't even understand how I feel,” he admitted. She was so beautiful, her pale hair rippling down her back, falling across her shoulders, framing her slender face. She was so open, so vulnerable, so lovely. “I just know this is right.”

And then he kissed her, slanting his hard mouth over hers gently, controlling his need with every ounce of willpower he possessed. For a moment she didn't respond, didn't even breathe. Then he felt her begin to relax. He was briefly aware that she pressed
her hand against his chest. Then she dropped it and moaned.

Shocked at the intensity of his feelings, Niko jerked away, his body demanding, protesting, warring with his mind. Before he scared her to death and did something he couldn't change, he slid around the table and sat down.

Across from him she moved back into the corner of the booth and waited, wide-eyed with confusion. “Did I do something wrong?” she whispered.

“God, no,” he managed to say. “I did something wrong. I know how fragile you are right now. I keep doing things I should never—”

At that moment the waitress appeared with a mug of steaming coffee and hot tea. “I didn't know what you wanted, so I brought cream and lemon. There's sugar on the table and—”

“This is fine,” Niko interrupted, reaching for the glass sugar container. He poured a steady stream of the white crystals into his coffee and began to stir, sloshing coffee over the edge of his cup. The waitress wiped up his spill, gave Niko a disbelieving shake of her head, and moved away.

He knew he'd frightened Karen with his sudden change of mood. Hell, he'd frightened himself. Back at the hospital, his only thought was to get her away from whatever danger she might be in. He'd give her time to find herself, to remember what had happened, and then he'd bring her back.

In the meantime Mac could do some checking around and find out more about whom she was running
from. Niko never intended to let their attraction for each other go this far, get this intense.

He had to focus on his patient. His
patient
, not his lover. A blow to her head had thrown her into a coma from which she refused to awaken. Then he'd come along and done whatever was necessary to bring her back, even creating images and fantasies of heat, desire, sex.

The question wasn't why she responded, it was why wouldn't she respond? Her confusion was understandable. He couldn't account for his.

“Are you all right?” Karen finally asked, her voice a tight whisper.

“I'm not sure. I made a dumb move, coming on to you like that when you're—you're not well. You're not ready for a … me … us.”

Her blue eyes turned liquid gray, like the day beyond the glass. She looked at him suspiciously, and for a moment he feared that she was trying to draw back into her shell of anonymity. He couldn't let that happen.

“What kind of doctor are you?” she asked.

“I'm in research.” Good. She was asking questions he could answer.

“What kind of research?”

“At the moment I'm trying to find out what causes memory loss in the elderly.”

She gave a shocked laugh. “The elderly? How old do I look to you?”

Niko took a long swig of coffee. “Nobody would ever call you elderly, princess. But they thought I
might have learned something in my research that would bring you back to the land of the living.”

“So, you really are a doctor who deals with cases like mine. And did you pull a rabbit out of your medical hat?”

“No rabbits.” He smiled, trying to avoid the means he'd used to awaken her. “And I don't really have a medical bag of tricks. I mean, I don't normally treat patients. My area of study is in the genetics of memory loss. Senility, and more recently Alzheimer's. And I don't think either of those conditions applies to you.”

A look of pain filled Karen's eyes, and she cut her gaze to the window.

“No, not to me.”

By the time their waffles arrived, Niko had lost his appetite. He suspected that Karen had never had any to begin with.

“I know you don't want to, but you ought to eat something, princess,” he finally said. “The body needs fuel to repair itself.”

In a voice that sounded more alone than any he'd ever heard, she asked, “What happens when a body doesn't want to heal?”

After that she made an effort to eat, taking several bites of waffle and drinking the tea. He tried not to look at her, not to become captivated by the elegant grace that was so much a part of her.

But he was a man, a man very in tune with his
senses, a man who had become acutely aware of the woman he'd sworn to help.

He decided that her wearing his clothes charged him. The fleece inner lining lay against her body, soft and intimate. She was made for slinky black dresses, not faded sweatsuits. Elegant mansions and parties, not libraries. He wondered how he was going to get her to tell him the truth about what happened. He wondered if she knew.

“I wish you wouldn't look at me like that.” She shifted her weight uneasily.

Until she moved, he hadn't realized that he'd abandoned his own food and sat staring at her.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Why don't you tell me who we're running from.”

She turned a confused eye on him, as if she had no idea what he was talking about. “I wish I could tell you,” she said softly. “But I don't know. Can we go now? I'm very tired.”

She was also very pale. He'd gotten so wrapped up in her, in speculation about her past that he'd pushed her beyond her physical capabilities.

“Of course.” He pulled some bills from his pocket and left them on the table. This time she didn't fight his lifting her into his arms and carrying her back to the Bronco. She was almost asleep. Good, she needed the rest.

Because they'd stopped to shop and eat, it was early afternoon when he turned into the marina his cousin Giles once operated. It looked abandoned. He
hadn't expected that. The snow was blowing now, sticking on the windshield and flurrying in gusts that prevented him from seeing the road. There wasn't a car anywhere, only a truck huddling against the other side of the building as if it were trying to stay warm.

Niko left the engine running while he tried the office door. Misha had said that Giles's son operated the place now, but nobody answered his knock. He spent a few cold minutes walking around the building, trying desperately to find the proprietor.