Chapter Eight

Make you disappear.

Egan’s statement echoed through Kellee’s mind. How would he make her disappear?

Oh, no! Did he mean…? Icy fingers danced down her spine. The pizza congealed into a lump at the bottom of her stomach. Instead of bolting when she’d had the chance at the parking lot, she was trapped. She wrapped her arms defensively around her body and lowered her feet to the floor. He was closer to the door than she was, but the bathroom had a window. If she had to, she could still escape.

Stop it! This was silly. Her imagination was working overtime. Other than when he’d locked her in the car, Egan had been kind, even if he was somewhat gruff. He’d bought her clothes, fed her. He’d had plenty of chances to hurt her if he wanted to. And yet, she had to ask. “You don’t mean, like…to kill me, do you?”

“What?” Egan’s gaze locked on her face. He blinked. “No! God, no.” His warm hand caught hers before she could tuck it under the table and held her until the trembling stopped. His mouth curved in a half-smile. “I wasn’t sent to kill you, Kellee. How could you think that?”

Her stomach did a slow roll in relief, and her arms relaxed. The grasp of his hand represented a sense of security she hadn’t realized she needed until now. Her fingers curled around his. “There’re so many things I don’t remember. I’m still learning about you. What was I supposed to think?”

His hand tightened briefly then released her and she immediately missed his warmth.

“Get this through your head.” He tapped the tabletop forcefully with his index finger. “If you don’t remember anything else, know that I’d never hurt you. Never.” His eyes burned with an intensity that was frighteningly serious. “Your father thinks there are people who want to harm you. He’s asked me to keep you out of sight until the danger is over. That’s what I meant by making you disappear.”

His explanation renewed her apprehension. “And the rules?”

“They’re for your protection.”

“From the people who want to hurt me?” she asked.

“That’s right.”

“Who?” She’d felt so anonymous when she was with the evacuees. Even then, there were people all around her. Tresha had been a friend. Hadn’t she?

Egan swallowed, looking uncomfortable with the question. “Your father wouldn’t tell me.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would he send you to find me and then keep you in the dark? It’s so…so…”

“Counterproductive?” Egan suggested.

“Exactly!”

Egan shrugged. “That’s something you’ll have to ask him. I’d been hoping that once I found you, you’d be able to enlighten me about the situation. Since you can’t remember anything that happened…” Egan left the rest unsaid.

Her amnesia loomed like a major roadblock to the truth. “I don’t understand. Why send you to get me, if you don’t know what’s going on?”

“Staying off the grid is something I’m good at,” Egan replied.

“Why would someone want to hurt me?” What had she done? She paused…Oh, no. She’d left a man to die. “The man in my apartment?”

“I don’t think that’s it. I can’t put my finger on it, but I believe you were in danger before that man showed up at your apartment.”

The room seemed to tilt. Things weren’t adding up. If only she could remember what happened before the storm.

She stood, needing to move, to feel less like a tin can on a target range. What were they going to do if she couldn’t remember? Hide forever? She rubbed her arms while she paced, trying to ward off the chill. “Earlier, you told me that the man who died in my apartment wasn’t making a social call.”

“That’s what I believe.” He gave her a curious look. “What are you thinking?”

“What if this has nothing to do with me? What if his death is connected to a case I worked for Collins? Wouldn’t the threat be over?”

A reluctant expression crossed his face. “Not from what your father told me. Our conversation was pretty short, but he seemed certain the man found in your apartment wasn’t related to Collins or any case. He gave a very clear impression that someone is after you. The man who came to your apartment may have been sent to get you.”

“Why?”

“All I have is a hunch. But by attacking you, whoever it is definitely got your father’s attention.”

“My father?” That sent her thoughts spinning in an entirely different direction. “Is he an important man?”

Egan grimaced. “Byron has a great deal of influence in certain circles. It’s possible he’s made a few enemies over the years.”

“You don’t like him very much, do you?” It wasn’t really a question. His tone gave him away. It wasn’t the first time she’d picked up on it. She noticed earlier that her last name seemed to bother him. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Your father and I don’t always see eye to eye.” Egan took a quick breath. “But I respect him, and I owe him. A lot.”

“Money?”

“No.”

Kellee could tell there was more he wasn’t saying, but she didn’t press. Another thing she had remembered about Egan was that if he wanted her to know something, he would tell her. If she pushed now, she might not get answers to the other questions she had. “How are you going to make me disappear?”

“We’re about a day’s drive from a place I go when I want to get away. No one knows about it. Not even your father. We’ll be safe there until I get the all-clear to take you home.”

“Why aren’t we trying to find the people who are after me? Shouldn’t we be working with the authorities or something?”

“Your father has that covered. Riley is working with the authorities in Florida.”

“Who’s Riley?” Kellee asked.

For a moment, Egan appeared stumped by her question, then he smiled at her. “Right. You don’t remember.”

The jolt from his smile turned her legs rubbery and she almost stumbled. She’d better start hiding her reactions to him. Her youthful fantasies were most likely one-sided. He didn’t act as though they’d had a relationship beyond instructor and student. Besides, if he was her father’s employee, there was probably a policy about not getting involved with the boss’s daughter. Egan was helping her, and the last thing she wanted was to get him in trouble. “So, Riley works for my father, too?”

“Riley’s your brother.” His tone sounded different when he spoke of her brother than when he talked about her father.

“I have a brother?”

Egan nodded.

She had family. A father. A brother. “Do I have a sister?”

“No.”

“What about my mother? She must be worried.”

Egan stood and gestured toward the chair. “Sit down, Kellee. There’s more you need to hear.”

The influx of information made her nerves jittery. She was impatient and wanted resolution. Was her need for action from something buried within her memory or was it her self-defense training that made her restless? Reluctantly, she sank to the chair, because Egan probably wouldn’t tell her more if she didn’t comply.

He came around to stand in front of her. “You remembered me, right?”

She looked up at him. His dark eyes and solemn expression were familiar. Other things about him were still foggy. Like why she had wanted to run from him. “Yes.”

“Think about what triggered that memory.”

“Why?”

“Humor me,” he said.

She hesitated, not wanting to relive the incident in the restroom.

“It’s okay. You can do it.” His voice was gentle, encouraging.

When he used that tone, she found it impossible to deny him. “It was the attacker. Something about him reminded me that I knew you.”

“No.” Egan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s all that reminded you.”

“What, then?”

“I think it was how you defended yourself that triggered your memory.”

“Okay.” That made sense. “And it was you who taught me those self-defense moves.”

“Aikido.”

“Right, that’s what I remember.” That was about it—fractured recollections of hours on the mat with Egan as her instructor. He’d taught her the martial art and she’d had a secret crush on him. He’d been her warrior hero…

“Remember what I taught you about keeping your center?”

She frowned, and reeled in her wandering mind. “No…Wait!” Kellee closed her eyes and concentrated as details flitted through her mind. During her training, she would focus energy on the physical center of her body, just below her navel. The mere thought of keeping her center made her shoulders relax and her spine straighten. Calm flowed through her. Familiar. Powerful. The same feeling she’d had when the man attacked. Then again on the bus, just after her dream about Egan.

She opened her eyes to see Egan nodding with approval.

“Good.” His rugged face softened with a smile.

That smile. Her stomach tumbled and lurched. Her attention shifted away from her center, and she lost it. Taking a deep breath, she refocused. Energy infused her limbs, and her body settled. A quiet state of readiness reached all the way to her fingertips. “Why are we doing this exercise?”

“You asked about your mother.”

Regardless of the calm, a sense of foreboding crept through her. It wasn’t a memory of her mother, but a sudden intuition that prompted her next words. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Katherine’s been gone for about seven years now.” His confirmation was blunt. “Do you remember her?”

“No.” Kellee waited for the sense of loss, of sorrow, but felt nothing. No remorse, no heartbreak. “Were my mother and I close?” Maybe they hadn’t gotten along and that’s why she felt nothing.

Egan stepped beside her and slipped his fingers under her shirt collar. Where he touched, a trail of fire burned along her skin. He lifted the pendant on the thin silver chain. “Katherine gave this to you on your eighteenth birthday.”

Kellee forced her breathing to remain normal to control her reaction to his touch. Now was not the time to give in to her fantasy. She took the pendant and fingered the edges of the crest. In all the hours she’d studied it, she’d never guessed its significance. “I don’t remember.” She didn’t look up.

Egan rested a hand on her shoulder. “You once told me the necklace was very old, handed down from mother to daughter for generations.”

His words formed a picture in her mind of grandmothers, mothers, and daughters sharing a legacy of love. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and a lump of sadness filled her throat. Not for her dead mother but for herself. She’d had a mother who’d loved her, who’d passed on a piece of her heritage, yet the memory wouldn’t surface. Kellee bowed her head to hide the tears, embarrassed by her weakness.

Egan slid a finger under her chin and tilted her face. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb. “Don’t be afraid to cry,” he whispered.

Another tear followed. And another. A dam of emotional turmoil broke free. “I don’t remember my mother. I don’t remember…” Without feeling herself move, she was standing, cradled in his arms. His solid warmth seeped through her skin and into her weary soul. Gentle hands stroked her hair while she cried. She found sanctuary and strength in his silence. He didn’t patronize her by saying everything would be okay. He simply held her as the burdens of the past few days washed away with her tears.

She gave a final sniffle and lifted her head from his chest, leaving a sodden spot on his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice as he cupped the back of her neck.

“I’m sor—” she began.

“Don’t be sorry,” he interrupted. “Remember, ‘strength comes from softness.’ ”

Kellee gave him a watery smile. The quote was one of many philosophies she’d learned in her martial arts training. She trained for strength, yet like water wearing away the rock in a canyon, there were times when softness moved mountains. It was a good reminder.

He continued to hold her, and the energy shifted. Egan’s gray eyes darkened to black. She became aware of those muscular arms cradling her as if she were fragile glass. His tender look sent a tremor through her. The sensation went beyond comfort and warmed the forgotten regions of her heart with a tenuous whisper of desire. She gazed into the stillness of his face with anticipation, unable to stop herself from running the tip of her tongue over dry lips.

Egan blinked. His muscles tightened. Then the tenderness disappeared from his eyes, replaced by a dark flame of desire. He dropped his hands to his side as though he’d been burned. The bubble of awareness shattered.

He cleared his throat. “I think that’s enough remembering for tonight. You should get some sleep. We’re going to start early tomorrow, and it’ll help if you’re alert while we’re driving.”

The warmth that cradled her began to fade. She lowered her eyes to hide her disappointment. His ability to switch moods, to highlight the danger they faced, reminded her that she was only a job. She shouldn’t mistake his concern for something more. She’d be better off following his example and staying detached.

“My father isn’t the only one who believes I’m in danger. You do, too. Don’t you?”

Although Egan no longer held her, he stood close enough for her to see the uneasiness flash though his eyes. “Yes. You’ve been lucky so far. It’s possible that losing your memory actually saved your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most people would have headed to a familiar safe haven after the storm. For you, that should have been your family’s home in Maryland. Instead, your amnesia forced you to follow an unexpected course. You were lost among the evacuees like the proverbial needle in a haystack.”

“You found me.”

The muscle in his cheek jumped again. “I was lucky. That still doesn’t mean someone else hasn’t picked up your trail.”

“I can’t believe anyone out there wants to hurt me. I wish we knew who and why.”

“Don’t worry. I intend to find out.”

His commitment to her safety touched her. Impulsively, she stepped close and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you for helping me, Egan.”

His arms closed hesitantly around her. Warmth returned, with the promise of safety. She laid her head on his chest, her hands splayed along the taut muscles on his back. The thud of his heart drummed reassuringly under her ear.

The comforting embrace transformed. It seemed she only had to touch him before electricity arced and spiked, prickling the fine hair on her arms and sending a shaft of desire straight through her. She pulled herself closer, barely supported on wobbly legs.

Egan’s hands slid up her arms and grasped them. He pulled out of the embrace and held her away from him. She swayed, impulsively reached for his support, but he stepped away. Cold air rushed in, filling the void he’d left.

“Go to sleep,” he said raggedly.

Twice she’d reached out and twice he’d rejected her. His message was loud and clear. I don’t want you.

Kellee buried the hurt. He had no idea her emotions were tangled like a clothesline after a tornado. She stepped around him and stopped midstride when she spotted the bed. Her thoughts had been in such turmoil, she only now registered the bed.

Share a bed with Egan? After what had just happened? Could she do it? Had they done it before?

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” he said, as though sensing her thoughts.

She whirled around. “I wasn’t…I was wondering if we…” Her cheeks grew hot. How did she ask that question?

The corner of his mouth twitched. “No. We haven’t.”

“Oh.” That settled the question about being lovers. Disappointment gnawed at her. She wasn’t his student anymore. She was a grown woman, with mature needs and desires. “I’m perfectly fine if you want to sleep on the bed with me.” At least she thought she was. “Besides, you’ll be uncomfortable, and might kink your neck, or worse.”

He shrugged off her concern. “Comfort isn’t the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“Let’s just say I don’t need the distraction.”

Her? A distraction? His admission ignited a flare of hope. Without a second thought, she walked over to him, stood on her toes and planted a kiss on the same cheek she’d slapped earlier. His scruffy whiskers grazed her lips, searing a new memory into her brain.

“What was that for?” Frustration edged his voice.

“For slapping you. You didn’t deserve it. You were doing your job.” She returned to the bed and pulled down the covers, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Egan stood rooted to the carpet for a moment. Then he strode decisively into the bathroom.

She smiled when she heard him swear just before slamming the door.