Chapter Ten

Egan steered the SUV into a parking space near the motel lobby and turned off the engine. They’d been driving for hours, caught in miles of road construction, which delayed his agenda. He was tired and was certain that Kellee was exhausted.

During the drive, she’d pushed him for details of her past. He was torn between wanting to share what he knew and believing it was important for her to remember on her own. The last thing he wanted was to create false memories that might interfere with the real ones once they began to surface. Consequently, dodging her questions had caused their conversation to dwindle to tension-filled short answers. It didn’t help his mood any that her scent and restless shifting permeated his defenses, reminding him just how desirable a woman she’d become.

“Stay put,” he said, pocketing the keys. “I’ll only be a minute.”

“I’d like to get out and stretch,” she said.

“No,” he said firmly. “I won’t be long.”

Her request was reasonable. A steady rain had accompanied the drive most of the way to Jacksonville and the fresh night breeze would be a welcome change from the car’s circulated air. Except he didn’t want Kellee exposed to more security cameras. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but he had no idea who might gain access to any of the video feeds they’d passed. Until they reached his boat, they were still on the grid. No point advertising their location at every stop.

She glared at him and reached for the door handle. “What’s the big deal? This is no different from when we stopped to eat.”

She was right, but he had to make hard choices about what information to withhold to avoid worrying her. Ultimately, he hadn’t told her the restaurants he’d selected didn’t have surveillance. Maybe he should have said something so she’d understand just how vulnerable they were.

He leaned across to her side of the car and caught her wrist before she could open the door. “Damn it Kellee, open that door and I’ll—”

Her face was only inches from his. “You’ll what? Cuff me to the door? I’m sure you have something in your bag to tie me down.”

Her ragged breath caressed his cheek. Angry eyes flashed with a stubbornness he admired as much as it frustrated him.

A flicker of awareness skimmed over her face.

His gaze strayed to her mouth. The tip of her tongue moistened her lower lip, and involuntarily his thigh muscles clenched. He didn’t want this lust crashing through him. Not now. Not ever. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m not going to tie you up.” He let go and moved to his side of the car—putting distance between them. “Please. Stay in the car.”

Her lips parted and eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Please?”

She might not remember, but he knew all his precautions would start to become oppressive for her. She was already resisting his rules. “Please, Kellee,” he repeated.

To his relief, she released the handle and folded her arms. Egan exited the car and secured it with the remote fob before entering the motel lobby. She showed compliance now, but he didn’t want to press his luck.

****

He’d locked her in again! Kellee slammed her fist against the window. Why did she keep giving in to his persuasion?

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the seat. Her face was still hot from their close encounter. She hadn’t mistaken the glitter of desire in his eyes before he’d shuttered it away almost as quickly as it had flared. Butterflies beat at the walls of her stomach, and she wrapped her arms across her middle to quiet them.

His polite appeal had blazed through her, so different from yesterday when he’d practically shoved the rules down her throat. Why switch tactics now? Whatever his reason, it worked. The urge to fight him had given way to a warm stirring she couldn’t ignore.

Last night, she’d remembered her teenage crush. What she felt now was different. Way more than a girlish crush. She cared about Egan. A lot. If she was in imminent danger, what if simply being with her put him at risk? Someone had already died because of her. She didn’t want Egan hurt too.

Closing her eyes, she buried her face in her palms. When would this stupid nightmare end? Surely she had a life waiting? Her employer must be short-handed. They might not even know she was alive. Collins was a private investigation firm. Would they try to search for her? She should at least let them know she was okay. Then again, if Egan was right about the threat, maybe it was best if everyone thought she was dead. Right?

Egan said her father ran a private security firm. If that was the type of work she enjoyed, why didn’t she work for her dad? Was it because Egan worked there? Had she left to avoid breaking a rule about office romances? If so, why had she moved all the way to Florida for another job?

Too many questions and no answers. It made her head hurt. For now, she should make the best of the situation. Dropping her hands, she leaned forward and stared out the window. A light drizzle ran in rivulets down the glass, catching the motel’s neon lights in a cheery gleam that belied her mood. The way Egan kept his distance, it was clear she was only an assignment to him. While they ran from shadows, his protective instincts would remain high. He’d never allow himself to see her as a woman.

But what about when they stopped running? Once they were at his hideaway, it would be just the two of them. Alone. They wouldn’t have to keep looking over their shoulders. He could relax. His mixed signals indicated he had some interest in her. What could it hurt to find out how far that interest went? They were both adults—with mature desires.

She might not have all her memories back, but she was fully capable of making choices and living with the consequences. She smiled to herself, feeling a measure of resolve. If this was going to be the start of her new life, then she’d live it on her terms.

Egan walked out of the office and toward the car. She composed herself. If he even guessed she was thinking of a seduction, he’d probably lock her in the bathroom all night.

He got in the SUV without saying a word and drove to a parking spot near the exit, just like the night before. Kellee gathered her few belongings to carry to the room and got out of the SUV. How pathetic that everything in her life had been reduced to fit in a single backpack. If she was going to convince Egan she wasn’t a charity case, she needed more clothes. Something in her size that fit better and offered a hint of skin.

“Can we go shopping tomorrow?” She waited for him to open the motel door.

Egan hesitated, the key poised in his hand. “For what?”

“Clothes.” Before he could nix the idea, she added, “I appreciate the things you bought me, but I don’t have enough to last more than a couple of days. After tomorrow, I’ll have to sit around in a towel to do laundry.”

His lips thinned. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “Maybe.” Turning, he unlocked the door and walked into the room.

Kellee smiled to herself. She’d gained an inch. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Maybe conquering his resistance wouldn’t be so hard after all.

She followed him inside and noticed two queen-sized beds. The smile fled from her face. Had there been one bed, she’d have tried to talk him into sharing. Then again, judging by Egan’s uncompromising face, he would have slept on the floor again. At least on the other bed, he’d be closer. Her heart raced a little faster at the thought of sneaking under his covers.

Egan dropped his rucksack on the bed closest to the door and nodded at the other one. “You’re sleeping on that one.”

“Why?”

“The rules, remember? I stand between you and everything else out there.”

They were back to that again. “That wasn’t one of the rules,” she argued. Would this never end? “This is absurd! We’re running, but what if no one is really chasing us? We haven’t encountered anything so far.” She gestured beyond the motel room walls.

“If it was safe, your father would have contacted me using a special number we set up. Since he hasn’t, I have my orders to keep you out of sight.” Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, he looked at her. “But feel free to share anything you remember, because right now, all we have is a big black hole. Until then, you’re stuck with my rules.”

It circled back to her amnesia. And the man she might have killed. The thought soured her stomach and doused the spark of desire in her chest. “Fine. As soon as I remember something, I’ll tell you.”

Egan continued to rub his neck, looking exhausted. She felt guilty for pushing him. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain. I’ll get ready for bed.”

“Apology accepted.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Ladies first.” Then he picked up the TV remote and clicked it on.

Feeling appropriately dismissed, she hooked her backpack over her shoulder and walked into the bathroom. Five minutes later, she climbed in her bed and turned off the lamp on the nightstand between the beds.

Egan left the TV on while he took his turn in the bathroom. The channel was set to an old movie about a Russian submarine. The sound of a men’s chorus, robustly singing the Soviet national anthem, filled the small motel room. It was a proud song, filled with confidence and daring. It was fiction.

Kellee had reality to deal with. She was a refugee without a home and a memory like a sieve. Unable to focus on the movie, she rolled onto her side and stared at the closed curtains. What was out there? When would her life be normal again? Would she even recognize normal when it came?

On the TV, the song faded to dialogue. Exhaustion won the battle. Egan hadn’t come out of the bathroom before sleep claimed her.

****

Egan awoke cursing under his breath at both the interruption to his sleep and at the inappropriateness of the erotic dream that starred the boss’s daughter. His hand automatically slipped under the pillow and curled around his Glock’s grip.

Years of survival training had taught him the value of knowing what lay hidden in unfamiliar corners and he’d left on the bathroom light. He scrutinized the shadows, searching for the noise that had awakened him. The room was clear. Nothing out of place.

Then he heard the noise again. Kellee.

Her bed was three feet away, close enough to see her erratic and shallow breathing. Aware he was only wearing sweatpants, he waited a moment for the effect of his dream to ease before he sat up.

Her head pitched from side to side. “No,” she mumbled and rolled onto her side, facing him. A frown marred her angelic face. She muttered something else he didn’t catch and rolled onto her back. Her arms shot out, swatting the air with frantic urgency. “Stay away.” She didn’t shout, but her voice was resolute.

Uncertain about waking her, he left the gun under his pillow and leaned toward her. The dream could be her subconscious trying to heal itself. If so, he shouldn’t interrupt the process.

She’d been through so much. The devastating storm and subsequent evacuation were bad enough, but her personal trauma was worse. Amnesia and a dead body would have brought a lesser person to their knees. He had to concede she might’ve killed that man in her apartment—but in self-defense. Of that, he was certain. He hated to think of the emotional upheaval she’d be forced to deal with if it turned out to be true.

“No—Nooo!”

Enough. He couldn’t take any more and shot off the bed.

He stood, wondering how to wake her, when she sat up. Her wide eyes were glazed with a look of terror that fisted around his heart. “Kellee.” He sat beside her and reached out.

Before he could touch her, she grabbed his wrist and pinned it in a painful lock.

He realized her reaction was an instinctual defense technique, countered the move, and tried to ease her against the pillows.

She gave a startled yelp and shrank away.

“Kellee,” he said calmly. “Kellee. It’s me, Egan. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Her wild look didn’t change at first. Then the fear gradually faded from her eyes.

“Egan?” Her whisper trembled as she recognized him.

He nodded and let go of her.

She threw herself into his arms, barely giving him time to catch her. A cry escaped, then another. Her body racked with sobs. Hot tears spilled onto his chest.

As much as he hated any woman’s tears, this was worse because it was Kellee sobbing as though her heart would burst. He gathered her close. Rage against all that she’d gone through burned in his gut. He wanted to rip apart the bastards who had brought her to this, and at the same time shield her from every bad thing in the world. Powerless to do either, he simply held her.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Round, firm breasts pressed against his chest. The smell of shampoo and flesh blended in a scent uniquely hers. He’d wanted to provide comfort, but her tender warmth crept through him, building to a heated desire. It was all he could do to keep from reliving his erotic dream.

As her sobs diminished, she leaned away.

Egan took a breath to cool his libido and gently brushed the hair out of her face. “Hey.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “That must have been some nightmare.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she blinked, fighting them back.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Her soft voice wavered with apology.

“Don’t be. Are you okay if I get up for a minute?” he asked.

“Where are you going?”

“Not far. I’ll be right back.” Leaning over, he turned on the bedside lamp, then went into the bathroom and returned with a fistful of tissues. He held them out as he sat beside her.

“Thanks.” Taking them, she blew her nose.

The unladylike sound brought a smile to his lips. Even when training, sweating hadn’t embarrassed her. Her total lack of self-consciousness was as refreshing as it was genuine.

“Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can.” She shuddered.

“If you remember something from the dream, it might be useful. But if you’re not ready, don’t force it.” He detested feeling so helpless, but he wouldn’t push. Her safety and well-being came first. That was the reason he had been hired. Find her. Hide her. Above all, protect her.

Like he should have protected his brother. Instead, he’d failed and Rory was dead.

He wouldn’t fail with Kellee. He couldn’t.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was just a little after midnight. They’d had couple of hours’ sleep. There was still enough time to get some decent rest before their early start on the last leg of their journey.

“The nightmare was awful.”

Kellee spoke the words so softly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. She wiped her face with a tissue. Her eyes were clear, not hazy with tears or sleep or fear.

“Take your time,” he coaxed. “Don’t force anything.”

Pink splotches mottled her nose and cheeks. To Egan, she looked stubborn, strong and unwilling to give up. The startling urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her punched him hard. Warmth radiated off her half-covered body, making it hard to focus. Disheveled and enticing, he realized she was far too close. He scooted a few inches away. The distance offered little defense from the temptation she presented, but helping her feel at ease was more important than his discomfort.

Kellee took a quivering breath. “I dreamt about my apartment just before the hurricane struck.” Her eyes widened. “I remember my apartment.”

“That’s a good sign.”

Kellee shook her head. “No. It’s not. I don’t ever want to go back. Please. Don’t make me go back.”

“It’s all right.” He was unable to keep from touching the back of her hand. “You’re safe with me. Can you tell me what happened? Take all the time you need, sweet Kellee.”

“What did you just say?”

Egan leaned back, silently cursing himself for the unconscious slip. If he wanted to hear what she remembered, then he had to give her a reason to trust him. He confessed, “I used to call you ‘sweet Kellee’ while we trained. I also called you ‘brat.’ I supposed it depended on your behavior. Maybe you don’t remember.” In my mind, you’ve always been sweet Kellee.

She smiled, and recollection lit up her eyes like the sun breaking through a rainstorm. “You called me that when you wanted me to do something.”

“Not always. Although, I do want something now.” She drew him in like a slow tide. His palms skimmed down her arms. How could her skin feel like ice when he felt on fire? He pulled his hands away. “Tell me anything you can recall, no matter how insignificant you think it is.”

Her face sobered. He thought she might start crying again and almost told her to let it go. As hard as it was, he had to let her continue. Only she had the information he needed to assess the danger they faced.

“The storm blew in fast.” Her words were hesitant as she began to relay her story. “I was late evacuating because I had been out on a case. As I was packing, someone pounded on my door.”

She paused for a long moment. Egan’s chest tightened. “Was this your dream, or what really happened?”

“I’m sure it’s what happened. Until now, I didn’t realize I’ve been dreaming the same thing over and over since I woke up in the evacuation center.”

“That’s good,” he said. “We’re making progress.”

“When I answered the door, a stranger rushed in.” She seemed to stare through Egan, as if she was seeing something far beyond the walls. “At first I thought he was looking for shelter,” she continued. “Then he told me he was taking me to meet my father.”

“Your father?” Byron never mentioned he’d sent someone to her apartment before the storm.

“Except, it wasn’t me he wanted,” Kellee said. “He called me Katya.”

“Katya?” Egan searched his mind for everything he knew about the O’Neals, but couldn’t place the name. “It sounds like he was looking for another woman.”

“That’s what I thought. But, he kept insisting I leave with him.” She shivered.

Egan was ready to tell her to stop. He wished he could take away her trauma. Instead, all he could offer was encouragement. “Do you remember what happened next?”

“I refused to leave with him.” Her gaze shifted as though searching her memories. “He showed me a picture of a woman and said she was my mother. He said he was taking me to my real father.”

Her hands clenched and knuckles grew white. Where she drew her strength from, Egan couldn’t imagine—but she continued as though her life depended on finishing this story.

“The strange thing was the woman in the picture looked like me.”

Egan tried to piece together Kellee’s story with the information O’Neal had given him. The details didn’t fit. “Looked like you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you recognize her?”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m sure she wasn’t my mother.”

“Did the man hurt you?”

“Not…not at first.” She lifted the tissue and caught another tear before it fell.

He clamped down on the urge to lash out. Sliding closer, he gathered her into a hug. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Don’t think about it.”

“I can’t help it.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Her ragged breath pulled like a dull saw against wood. “He was looking for someone else, and I killed him. If he had left when I asked, he’d still be alive.”

“It’s possible this was all a strange coincidence,” he said.

“I looked like the woman in the picture. How can it be a coincidence?”

He stroked her hair. “You’re still healing. Your memories may be a bit disjointed. In time, it will make sense.”

Her breath tickled his neck, sending warmth throughout his limbs. He held her close and it took all his will power to stay focused. “Can you remember anything else? Do you know how the man died?”

“When I told him to leave, he grabbed my arm.” Her breathing quickened. “Somehow I got free and then he came at me with a knife.”

“Is that how you got this cut?” He tilted her chin to look at the small wound beneath her ear.

“He didn’t stab me. I side-stepped his first attack.”

“Your training took over,” Egan said, glad he’d been able to teach her something to help her avoid the attack. The thought of the man touching her…hurting his sweet Kellee brought anger to the surface again. He struggled to keep from letting unbridled fury burrow through him. If the man wasn’t already dead, Egan would have finished the job. It was a good thing she couldn’t see his face. She didn’t need to see his temper. Not now. Not ever again. “What happened next?”

“I tried to disarm him—” She stopped. A tremble racked her entire body. Her skin lost its warmth, and he thought she was going to faint.

“Kellee?” He held her tighter.

“He was big and too strong. I couldn’t direct his movement. The blade went into his stomach.” Her voice cracked at the horror of reliving the moment. She lifted her head and looked at Egan. “His name was Petre, and I killed him.”

Egan sucked in a breath. The dead man in Kellee’s apartment finally had a name. Petre. “It was self-defense.” He reassured her. “You had to save yourself.”

Guilt spread across her face. “My fingerprints are on the knife.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “It was self-defense,” he repeated.

She didn’t respond.

He gave her a light shake. “Listen to me. You didn’t mean to hurt anyone. You didn’t murder him.”

“I wish I hadn’t remembered.”

Egan almost wished that, too. “You did good.” He reassured her. “You remembered something that will help us.” They were that much closer to knowing who they were dealing with. “One thing I don’t understand. If you stabbed this Petre person, then how did you hurt your head?”

She touched her forehead. “I…don’t remember.” A lone tear escaped down her cheek. Before he could catch it, she wiped it away with a tissue. Dark smudges of exhaustion underlined her eyes.

This was enough for tonight—too much, in fact. “Get some rest,” Egan said. “Maybe you’ll remember more in the morning.” Listening to her talk about the attack was torture. How must it feel for her?

Kellee wadded the tissue in her fist. “No, I’m okay. I want to finish this.”

Part of him wanted her to remember everything. They were so close. On the fringes of her mind dangled the answers he needed. He feared if he pushed too hard, too soon, those answers might slip into a crevasse and be lost forever. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Good girl,” he said with a flash of admiration. Tough woman.

She took a deep breath. “I ran out of the apartment after…” She stopped. “After I got free. I wanted to get as far away as I could. The next thing I remember was waking up on a cot in a building where they’d gathered the evacuees.”

“That’s it? Nothing between leaving your apartment and waking up?”

“No.” She shrugged.

“Something must’ve happened to you while you were out in the storm.” He moved his hands up and down her arms again to ward off the chill on her skin. “At least you’ve remembered some important things we can use. I wonder what triggered your dream?”

“I don’t know…” That far-away look came into her eyes again.

“What?” he asked. “Do you remember something?”

“The TV”

“What about the TV?”

“He was Russian,” she whispered.

He frowned. Was she losing it? Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her. “What makes you think he was Russian?”

“He had an accent.”

“Lots of people have accents.”

“That movie on the TV…” She shook her head more vehemently. “I’m positive. He called me Katya. That’s a Russian name.”

“I’m sure the name is used in other countries, too.” The tension he’d felt while Kellee talked had eased a little, but it was still hard to think clearly while sitting so close that her scent filled his brain.

He stood and walked over to the closet. Grabbing a blanket, he unfurled it and draped it over her shoulders. It gave him the breathing room he needed—before he did something he’d regret.

“Thank you.” She tugged the blanket around her exposed shoulders and looked at him. “What are you thinking?”

He glanced at her, hoping she couldn’t read his face. “I’m wondering why a Russian would be searching for you, especially in the middle of a hurricane.”

“I wish I could remember more.” Her chin dipped to her chest.

Her hair caught the light and gleamed with rich reddish-brown hues, reminding him of Katherine, Kellee’s mother. He swallowed, knowing that he had to keep her safe. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. “Me, too. We’ll just have to work with what we have.”

O’Neal believed his daughter was in enough danger to have Egan hide her. He’d said his past had caught up to him. If Petre was after Katya, not Kellee, then it was clearly a case of mistaken identity. O’Neal would have nothing to worry about. Unless…

Had something surfaced from O’Neal’s past? If so, why didn’t these people confront O’Neal directly? Was the attack on Kellee meant to send O’Neal a message? If that was true, then Egan had to consider everyone around them a threat.