Mac's Angels : Sinner and Saint. a Loveswept Classic Romance (9780345541659) (15 page)

“Yes. In my heart I knew he wouldn't return.” Karen stood and walked toward the door leading outside. On a rack hung several coats and gloves. “I think I'll go for a walk.” She pulled on a pair of the gloves and one of the jackets. “I need to think about what kind of rules of conduct lovers set.”

She didn't hear Niko's answer, for she was remembering the woman in the book and Niko's innocent question. “And the Gypsy rode away and left her with child?”

Was that what he was worried about? He, too, was a Gypsy. And while the island was no moor, it was secluded from the world. There was no one here to see them, but there was someone back in the city who was looking for her.

Why did she have to remember? She was tired of beating herself up about her past. So what if all this was a lie, she was willing to let fantasy be true, just for
a while. She needed a lover's comfort. She wanted the passion. Where was the sweet heat and steamy sunlight she'd envisioned? She'd even settle for misty moors and fog. Where was her Gypsy's white horse with ribbons in its inane?

EIGHT

Friday the 13th plus two days—Slade Island

A hitherto undomestic Dr. Nikolai Sandor rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the sink, considering his next move as he searched for dishwashing detergent.

So, you've forced Karen Miller-Middleton to rejoin the living and you've saved her from a confrontation that scared her so badly that she stepped into the path of a taxi. As if her state of mind weren't precarious enough, you've kidnapped her from the hospital and brought her to a deserted island in the middle of winter.

He'd made love to a woman who was vulnerable and he knew he'd do it again if he couldn't find a way to stay away from her.

He'd stopped pretending he was creating a fantasy for Karen, but he was still on the verge of losing control of the situation. He was the one who couldn't
stop touching her. He might have envisioned making up for his sister by saving this woman, but he'd stopped fooling himself. He wanted her, wanted to fulfill the fantasy.

Every time he admonished himself, all he could see were those stormy blue eyes, and desire as strong as his own.

For the past six years he'd found intellectual substitutes for emotional needs. He'd become driven and he wasn't sure why. Part of that drive eventually closed off any emotional involvement in making love. Nowhere, at no time, had he allowed himself to come this close to giving his heart.

No more attachments. No caring.

Until now.

Niko swore.

He needed to talk with Mac. Lincoln MacAllister had been the one to drag him into this. Lincoln MacAllister had to get him out. Niko needed to get back to the city, to his work. He needed—hell, who was he kidding? He needed to go after his ice princess.

Moments later he pulled on warm clothing, boots, and gloves and walked around the porch scanning the area. Because it was winter, he could see almost the entire island. Karen was wearing a light gray jacket as nondescript as the landscape. He couldn't see it, but he should be able to sense movement if there was any.

He couldn't.

“Karen!” he called, only to have his voice caught by the wind and swept downriver. He should never
have let her go alone. The rocks were icy and she didn't know the terrain. She could have fallen and—

Niko took off, swearing oaths that even his Gypsy father would have been proud of. If he'd let anything happen to her, he'd …

Scrambling down the path to the dock, he skidded on the snow, caught himself, and moved off again. The boat was rocking gently against the dock with a gentle rhythmic thump. It sounded eerie in the silence.

Overhead a seabird screamed, dipped, and cut sharply away as if his attention had been drawn to something on the other side of the granite beyond the path.

“Karen!” he called out again, and scrambled over the chunks of silver rocks, reached the ground beyond, and followed the shoreline. He berated himself with every step. Karen wasn't strong enough to do any strenuous exercise. It wasn't safe for her to be out there alone. She ought to be back in the lodge, where he could—

Could what? Okay, Niko, let's get real here. Exactly what do you want to do with this woman? You've gone about as far as you can go as a doctor—you brought her out of a coma by giving her a totally fabricated past life. As a man you've taken advantage of that fantasy and made love to her. That pretty well takes care of the past and the present. What do you plan to do about the future?

They couldn't stay out here forever. He couldn't imagine why he'd thought that a few days on the island
would bring her memory back. But he had. Once that returned, she'd—what had he expected her to do? Go back to Minnesota and take up where she'd left off?

There was more to this. Karen Miller wasn't a coward; he'd seen too much evidence of her spunk. Now he was getting worried. Where was she? He had to find her. Then he'd figure a way to get some answers. Then he'd—

He'd walked halfway around the island when he came to the one place in the world he wanted to avoid. The pinnacle where he'd watched his sister's wedding to the man who'd been designated heir apparent to the king.

The pinnacle was a flat shelf of granite that shot up out of the water as if it were an altar. It was joined to the rest of the island on one side like the handle of a spoon. On the river side, it fell dramatically down to the water, sliced from the earth, solid gray rock, now glazed with ice.

And that's where he found her, sitting quietly, her arms holding her knees to her chest, staring out at the distant shore.

“How'd you get up here?” he snapped, the sound of his boots crunching on the snow-covered ice.

She turned to look at him, surprise and pain marking her face. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. It's just so beautiful here—and sad.”

“It's dangerous. I forbid you to sit out there.”

“Forbid? Is that one of the rules of conduct?”

“No, that's because I don't want you to fall. Come back here at once.”

“I don't think so,” she said softly. “You may have appointed yourself my guardian angel, Dr. Sandor, but if there are rules to be made, it's time I made my own.”

“I said, come back. Please, don't you argue with me too.”

“Too? What else have I done to upset you, Niko?”

He watched her inch away, a new determination clear in her expression. He couldn't blame her. After all, he'd been the one to say they needed to set up ground rules. Now he'd frightened her and he hadn't meant to.

The time had come for him to be honest with her. He didn't want to think that it might be time for him to be honest with himself.

“It isn't you, princess. It's this place. It's a sad place for me. I came here another time, with someone else I cared about. She wouldn't listen to me either and I lost her.”

“You mean she fell?”

“No. That might have been easier. She got married, right here on this shelf. It was summer, late in the afternoon with the sun setting behind her.” He could still see her, small and brave, pretending not to be afraid. She'd been wearing a white blouse and a bright red skirt, gold necklaces and bangles on her wrists. Too many gold necklaces for such a tiny person.

“I don't understand,” Karen said.

“Neither did I. I didn't believe she'd go through with it, but she did.”

Karen came to her feet and stood, swaying as if she hadn't yet made up her mind whether to come to him or stand her ground. “Did you love her?”

He grimaced and looked down at the ground for a moment. “Love her? More than anything. She was my sister. Her name was Karen too.”

The surprise on her face said she hadn't expected him to say that. “And she argued with you about getting married?”

“Yes, I asked her one last time, as she stood in the same spot you're standing, begged her not to go through with it.”

“But she did?”

Niko turned away, concealing his pain, allowing Karen to relax enough to trust him again. “She married a stranger. Even after I told her she could live with me. I'd have taken care of her somehow. But the marriage was our father's wish and she refused to stand up to him. I should have forced her to leave with me.”

Niko heard Karen's steps on the snow as she moved away from the edge and came toward him.

“You did all you could. You couldn't have stopped her. I know. I tried to change my mother's life and I failed.”

“But I could have. There was a way.”

“How?”

“I could have let my father name me as his successor and I wouldn't do it.”

“I don't understand.” She was standing behind him now. “Niko, please.”

With a desperate groan born of relief that she'd come to him, Niko turned and pulled her close. They stood for a moment, holding each other, mindful only of the comfort each gave to the other.

“Let's go back to the lodge,” he said, “and talk. I'll tell you about Karen and you tell me about your mother.”

“But I can't seem to remember it all. Only bits and pieces, but there is something—” And for a second she could see them, her laughing father followed by the mother who was stern and silent, who went through the motions of being a mother but never touched the child she'd borne if she could avoid it. And then the image was gone.

“You don't want to remember.” Niko turned her so that he could slide his arm around her waist and held her close as they climbed the hill. “Neither do I, but it's time we both did.”

It was midmorning. The day was gray, the wind like ice, and they clung to each other to withstand its blast.

Karen felt as if she'd just been through an emotional wringer. For now, casual conversation seemed safer. She'd wait for Niko to talk about his sister.

“Is it always so windy here?” she asked between teeth that chattered.

“I don't know. I never came here in winter before. Nobody does.”

“How do you know? There's wood for a fire and it didn't just cut itself and march to the porch.”

“Everybody who stays here must replace anything he uses. Giles, back at the marina, keeps the tanks filled and monitors who comes and goes.”

They were walking through the trees, climbing up the gradual incline toward the lodge. An occasional gust of wind ruffled the snow and sprayed it across Niko's black hair and the knit cap he'd covered it with. Karen couldn't stop herself from looking up at him, at his dark eyes fringed with long lashes, at the face that seemed carved from something hard and untouchable.

He wore a foreboding expression that reached out and touched her. She knew that this man was struggling with his past, just as she was doing, only he was deliberately choosing to close out the pain, and something in her mind seemed to be blocking her past.

He'd had a sister he'd loved who had suffered some dark tragedy, something he couldn't prevent. Was that why he was so determined to take care of her? He'd said that she was his repayment on a debt. That he needed her.

One thing she was certain of; she'd brought back his demons. Now, only by concentrating on Dr. Nikolai Sandor could she keep from bringing back hers. But why? What had happened that was so bad she wouldn't let herself remember?

And what would happen if she did? No, she changed that to when would it happen. For she knew that she would remember whether she wanted to or
not. Niko had been right about one thing, when she needed to know, she would.

For now she would enjoy the time they had left together. Then she'd find her life and get on with it. But whatever happened, she'd never regret Niko. They'd stepped outside the real world, just for a time, and made a fantasy real. That fantasy would disappear when they left the island.

Niko wasn't the kind of man she'd spend her life with. He was meant for greater things. She sensed that whatever he did, he did to the exclusion of all else. Marriage, family, and children had no part in his world. Karen knew with certainty that children were a part of hers.

Back at the porch they stamped their feet, dislodging the clots of snow that covered their shoes and clung to their lower legs. Niko pulled off his cap and shook it, then reached for hers.

“Your hair is wet again,” he admonished.

“It was the wind, blowing in from the river. I'm not sure I could ever be a sailor. I'd have to shave my head.”

Niko's fingers tangled in her hair. “Never. Never cut a strand of this hair.” His voice was tight as he spoke, and she could almost feel the tension in his fingers.

Karen's throat went dry. She knew she was playing with fire. When she'd left the lodge she'd been unsettled, and as she'd sat there on the rock, slivers of her past, of her relationships with men, filtered back. She knew she'd had relationships, but they had been brief,
shallow, limited. Then later she'd resigned herself to being alone.