So Hard To Forget Part 14

"Last, there's Andy Harris--you saw her earlier. She's the little elf with all that wild blond hair. Don't be fooled by her fragile looks, either. She's a sound and video expert and has set up all the surveillance on the island. She's also deadly with a knife. I'd like her to give you some lessons."

Nicole would have laughed if he hadn't been so serious. "Max, I've been expertly handling knives since I was twelve. I've always won first place for knife throwing at the county fair. I might teach her a thing or two."

The more he tried to set her at ease the more worded she became. She didn't want him to think she was some silly we female like her twin sister and forced !.

down her growing fear. "I've had a feeling all morning that we're being watched."

"We are. Indoors and out someone will be monitoring your movements. When Gillman gets here and the sting goes into operation, you'll not only be electronically watched, but there will always be someone near you." "

She'd lost count of the number of times he'd reminded her that she'd be guarded, but every time he did, her fear increased. They were almost at the house when she stopped. "You think he's going to try and kill me, don't you?"

So far he'd glossed over the dangers because he wanted to make d.a.m.n sure she'd come to the island. Now he debated telling her the truth. But he knew from experience that keeping the "bait" in the dark could make Nicole too comfortable with the security. She needed to be on guard all the time, or she could end up dead. "If he believes for one moment that he's walked into a sting operation, he'll go for Sandra first--you as Sandra. If you're dead, anything after that is hearsay and accusations."

"But the video would be proof."

"Not if he screams setup and the authorities stumble just long enough for him to leave the country for good. Nicky, remember Gillman was a Navy SEAL. He's had. training in areas most people can't even imagine. He can disappear in a flash. But that won't matter, anyway, because you'll be dead."

"Oh. Thanks a lot." She sat down on one of the patio lounges and stared into the swimming pool's mirror-smooth water.

"Did you think it was going to be so easy? That all you had to do was play a little game, act like someone else and collect a hundred thousand dollars? Nothing in life comes that easy. You of all people should know that."

"Well, New York, I just didn't think I was going to be this scared."

"Scared? You? The woman who faces down bears and sends" them running with her shouting."

She grinned and shook her head. "Reed filled you full of tall tales, did he? I wonder what he wanted from you?"

"To tell him about New York and offer him a place to stay when he kicked the Montana dust off his boots."

"He wouldn't! You wouldn't!" She watched his smile grow and his eyes sparkle, then she threw back her head and laughed.

Max scowled. He'd thought it was his joke. "You want to tell me what's so funny?"

"If you'd ever met Reed's mother, Shannon, you'd know. She'd eat you alive if she even thought you encouraged Reed to leave home."

Max was pleased he'd made her laugh and forget for a moment what she'd gotten herself into. The problem was, he was beginning to have doubts. Although he knew a lot about Gillman from his investigation, there was still too much he didn't know. The man remained an unknown element in the game. Max didn't know how Gillman would react when the woman he thought he'd killed stared him in the face, when she smiled, walked and talked.

By ten o'clock Nicole was bone-tired and so frustrated she was almost reduced to tears. Max's trained team had a way of talking over, around and, if they could, under her. When she questioned them, they either ignored her or looked at Max as if he controlled her life.

The only thing that kept her sane were the flashes she kept having from one of her favorite movies, My Fair Lady, and the trials of poor Eliza Doolittle. She Nicole, had no less than five people acting like Henry Higgins. She'd been drilled and lectured. She'd been taught to talk, walk, even laugh softly and shyly like Sandra. Every time she contradicted someone, she was shot down. She tried to tell them that if Sandra had amnesia, she wouldn't remember how she'd acted in the past. That statement created an uproar that made her throw up her hands and escape to her room.

NICOLE SANK DEEPER into the tub of steamy bubbles and closed her eyes. The hot water relaxed her knotted muscles, and the gardenia-scented bubbles soothed her ragged nerves. Suddenly something Max had said made her sit up and self-consciously pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around them. He'd told her there were cameras everywhere. She glanced around. Surely they wouldn't--not in the bathroom!

From the other side of the bathroom door, she heard the distinctive sounds of someone moving around. "Max, is that you?"

When he said yes, she told him she needed to speak to him.

He tapped on the door. "Are you decent?"

She looked down, then tightened her arms around her knees and said, "I guess."

He stuck his head in and caught his breath at the sight of her. Her hair was slicked back and soft bubbles clung to her wet shoulders. For a second he had trouble finding his voice, then when he did it was hoa.r.s.e with a greedy need to strip and join her. But he managed to crash down his desire. The night was going to be bad enough without his imagination going crazy. "What's the matter? Did you forget to get a towel?"

"No. Max, are there cameras in here?"

"The bathroom? Heavens no. Is that why you're sitting here with your body in a knot, trying to cover every inch of flesh?" And such tempting flesh it was. He felt like a s.e.x-starved teenager with an urge to jump her bones. "There are no cameras in any bathrooms and none in our bedroom." He ducked out, closed the door and took a deep breath as it clicked shut, then headed out of the bedroom. The only solution to his problem was a cold shower, and he didn't have time to wait for Nicole to vacate their bathroom.

Nicole sighed, stretched out and relaxed once more. For one heart-stopping moment she wished more than anything that she was back in Montana. She was out of her element here. The closer to the day John Gill-man was to arrive the more she wished herself elsewhere. She didn't know how long she stayed in the bath, but when she became aware that the water hadn't just cooled to tepid but was actually cold, she decided it was time to get out.

Max settled the big bath sheet more securely around his hips as he dug through one of the bureau drawers for something to wear to bed. He'd just pulled out a pair of silky blue pajamas and was debating whether to wear both the top and bottoms when the bathroom door was yanked open. Swinging around, he froze with his heart in his throat and a throb in his groin.

"Am I supposed to wear this to bed?" Nicole asked. I'll be haunted the need to find a busy street corner. For G.o.d's sake, New York, did someone pick this stuff out at Victoria's Secret?" She glanced down at the slinky white satin gown that hung on her shoulders by threads; the neckline plunged so low her nipples were barely covered. To make matters worse, the gown hugged her hips and b.u.t.t to the point that her goose b.u.mps were visible, then flowed outward and pooled on the floor around her feet.

She stood in front of him with her arms spread wide, too disgusted to be self-conscious or observant enough to register the range of expressions that flitted across his face. When she spotted what he was holding, she kicked the atin hem out of her way and went for her goal like a trout after a fly.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed the pajama top from his hand, spun around and went back into the bathroom in a blur of white satin, pink flesh and the scent of gardenias. Max swallowed hard, losing control over all the good intentions he might have harbored. He jammed one leg then the other into the pajamas, yanked them up, gave the drawstring a haphazard tug on his way across the room and dived for the bed.

By the time Nicole emerged again, he was propped against the headboard with the covers neatly folded at his waist and wearing a smoldering look that was meant to melt the willpower of even the most virginal female. He couldn't decide whether Nicole looked s.e.xier in the negligee or the man's pajama top. G.o.d knows, her long legs added a definite enticement to the latter. He could feel his blood pressure rise.

Nicole deliberately kept her gaze on her side of the bed. She'd never been particularly modest, but right now she felt more than a little naked, and it didn't help that she knew his eyes followed her every mOVe, Without a word she flipped the sheet back, got in, adjusted the covers up to her chest, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Do you really think it's necessary to go this far to get used to you?"

"If this evening was a demonstration of your performance, we have a lot to work on." That got her attention and she turned to face him. "Every time I just casually put my arm around you or even moved close, you either stiffened up or inched away. The thing is, Montana, I don't think you're even aware of what you're doing. But it has to stop. It's something Gillman will spot immediately."

He slid down under the covers, then rolled to his side in order to be level with her, instead of hovering above her. "It's not like we haven't been in a bed together or I haven't touched you. Are you still angry with me for not coming clean about Sandra and the Bedford mess right from the start?"

"No, not really."

"That doesn't sound very promising." When she looked at him, her short hair still damp and a ma.s.s of wavy curls, he knew something was wrong. "What's the matter? Do you want to back out of this?"

"No. Honest. It's just... Dammit Max. I'm sick and tired of everyone telling me how to act. And I don't care how good your Karen, Paul and Andy are at changing people's personalities---they're bullies. I'm not shy, quiet or reserved, not by any stretch of the imagination. Trying to act like that not only makes me want to puke, but it's so phony I don't think I can pull it off. And the way they want me to talk! It's a joke, Max. I'd have to ip-synch my part to get that Kentucky accent.

It's so.. so..." She screwed up her face, struggling for the fight expression. Nothing really apt came to mind.

"It's so Southern," she finally said.

She thumped her pillow in frustration. "And have you seen the way they want me to walk? Karen said I stomp and swing, that I need to glide. Glide! For G.o.d's sake, New York, if I was wearing roller skates, I'd glide. Feet don't glide. What's wrong with a little hip-swing, anyway?"

He agreed, there was nothing wrong with the way she walked. In fact he liked the long firm strides and the way her hips moved in rhythm to her steps. He and Doug had been so wrapped up in helping the crew install the rest of the video and audio equipment that he'd left almost everything else to others. If there was ever a revolt about to happen, it was now. Everyone's nerves were strung out from being rushed and the severity of the situation.

"You're much too stressed out over this," he surprised himself by saying.

"First of all," she went on as if he hadn't spoken, "I don't think it's going to matter." She stopped and stared at him. "What did you say?"

"You're stressed out. Relax. You'll do everything right when the time comes. I have faith in you, Montana." '

She did relax but was wary of his compliments. "You're not just pulling my leg so you can get into my pants tonight, are you? Because, if you are, I'm here to tell you it's not going to happen."

"It never crossed my mind," he lied, and smiled. "Sure. That's why your eyeb.a.l.l.s fell out when I walked out of the bathroom in that satin getup, then you rushed to get in bed. And I didn't miss that look you gave me, either."

"Well, I can dream. Besides, I bought four dozen condoms at the airport in St. Louis."

She couldn't help laughing and realized she'd relaxed. "So it never crossed your mind, huh?"

As much as he wanted her and knew she could be convinced if he set his mind to it he decided to give it a rest. He leaned over, picked up a folder off the floor, then made himself more comfortable. "It occurred to Doug and me today that you don't know what John Gillman looks like. Helen certainly didn't keep any pictures of him around, and we didn't think about it--till now. Here's a photograph." He handed her the folder.

It wasn't as if she didn't know what sort of man John Gillman was or what he'd done. But some bow she'd never considered herself personally involved. Granted, it had happened to her twin sister, but she had no more feelings for Sandra than she would have had for any stranger. Still, she couldn't explain the sudden sense of revulsion that filled her now and kept her from opening the folder and looking at the picture fight away.

If she didn't look soon, Max was going to start asking questions. Biting a corner of her lip, she opened the folder and forced herself to look at the eight-by-ten glossy. Her response was instantaneous, like the shock of feeling something slimy crawling over her skin.

She was stunned by the ferocity of her reaction. John Gillman was gorgeous. A man with lots of dark hair, dark bedroom eyes, a gran it jaw and s.e.xy mouth. She figured the body was as perfect as the face. His character was the ant.i.thesis of his looks. On the outside he was beautiful, with the exceptional looks of a male model. On the inside he was revoltingly ugly, creel and brutal. And, she felt certain, vicious when cornered. She usually reserved such a description for an animal, but somehow it seemed to fit Gillman.

Suddenly, knowing what she was dealing with lessened her apprehensions and strengthened her resolve. She was no longer the odd man out, the outsider who had to be led around and shown how to wall talk and act.

It took remembering who she was and where she was from to clear her head. She'd lived her life with the constant threat of lurking beasts. She'd never learned what compelled a wild animal to kill, not for survival but for the sheer pleasure of it. It happened often at home, and they'd lost livestock, even pets. She'd tracked and killed vicious animals before and was skillful enough to know the rules.

Max was right. Bait needed to be planted. Patience was essential for the long hours of waiting, watching and learning the personality and habits of the enemy. Then the teasing and baiting to bring the beast out in the open for the kill. At that point someone better be a d.a.m.n good shot. One way or the other, death was a foregone conclusion. The victor was determined by who was the smartest, not necessarily the fastest or the strongest.

She had a thought, like a whispered voice at the back of her mind, and it was warning her to be careful.

"WelI!" Max said. "What do you think of Gill-man?"

"He's okay." She shivered.

Max was taken aback by her lackl.u.s.ter description. The women he worked with thought John Gillman's looks were better than ice cream. He took the photograph and folder from her hand, pitched it on the floor with the rest of the file, then gently grasped her shoulder and turned her toward him. "What's wrong? Why so pensive?"

Nicole tried to shake off the sudden overwhelming chill that was like being ducked in ice water so cold the quick flash of pain was bone-deep. The strangeness of it made it impossible to articulate. "Someone just walked over my grave, I guess. Sorry." She needed a distraction, managed a smile and shoved all the upsetting feelings away. Here she was, she thought, in bed with a man who'd made her feel like a woman for the first time in two years, and she was being silly and morbidly reflective.

"Did you really buy four dozen condoms? Or was that a joke?"

He was suspicious, leery, but answered both questions. "Yes. And no."

"We could diminish the number a little." She didn't wait for him to comment but reached over, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Max gave himself up to the kiss completely. His lips took command, and his tongue plunged into her mouth. Savoring the greedy way she responded to him, he didn't wait for an invitation and got busy with his hands under the pajama top.

Nicole pushed her hand between them. She chuckled against his mouth, pulling just far enough away to whisper, "Why, New York, what have we here?"

"Something that comes up quite often. I've been meaning to talk to you about it. You're going to have to stop wearing that bikini." He was the one to smile now, his lips moving lightly against hers as she gasped when his fingers found her. He loved her boldness, the way her hand and mouth were so sure what would please him. He shuddered, then chuckled when she grasped him firmly. "That will get you in a whole lot of trouble."

"I love trouble. Wait." She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her budge an inch and tightened his hold. "Wait! Max, are you sure there're no cameras in here?"

He rolled her onto her back and pressed against her. "I'd kill them and they know it."

The moonlight from the window cast mysterious shadows across his face, and his eyes were dark, narrowed with the intensity of desire. "I'm going to make love to you. Long and slow--and so hot and wild our bones will melt together and all that'll be left is the essence of what we were."

His words were enough to take her breath. away The only answer she could give was a kiss of unbelievable sweetness. Desire burned away any lingering remnants of anxiety over Gillman as the kiss deepened. Nicole hugged him closer, her hands roaming his back and shoulders. Her fingers pressed into the small of his back, pulling him against her hips.

Lips still locked in a pa.s.sionate kiss, they struggled, making soft groaning noises as they frantically worked at removing their scant clothing. Max ran his lips down the smooth creamy column of her neck, then pulled back a fraction to look at her.

The light of the moon enhanced her beauty and illuminated her skin, reminding him of the l.u.s.ter of pearls. He ran the fingertips of one hand along her shoulder, over her breast, across her stomach, then traced the graceful flare of her hip. His fingers lingered there for a moment, teasing, tantalizing. With b.u.t.terfly lightness they skidded across her leg and up her inner thigh. There they found their goal in the warm wetness of her womanhood.

She watched the way his gaze devoured her. Light shivers of pleasure ran through her from his touch, and when his fingers found her, she gasped, every muscle in her body attuned to the erotic sensations shooting through her. She touched his face, drawing his attention back, then set her mouth against his and slowly and deeply kissed him.

Max wanted to devour her. Felt that old primitive need to bury himself so deeply in her he'd totally lose himself and forget every woman who'd come before. He wanted to ease the knot of his loneliness, feel it melt away in the heat of their pa.s.sion.

She gave herself over to sensation, tugged at his shoulders so their bodies were stretched against each other, chest to chest, then she wrapped her legs around his waist and raised her hips in the ultimate invitation. She gave herself over to him, letting him control the rhythm. When his mouth suckled her breast, all thought disappeared, replaced with nothing but pure pleasure. Desire was like a coiled spring pulling tighter and tighter, pounding and throbbing through her, fighting for release. The heat of pa.s.sion turned to sheer physical force as their bodies, glossy with sweat and antic.i.p.ation, exploded in a firestorm of emotions.

1VIAX STRUGGLED to catch his breath as he pulled the covers up over them. She felt good, right somehow, in his arms. It amazed him, but he believed he'd found in her an oasis where he could drink his fill and never get enough. He turned on his side and braced himself on his arm so he could look down at her. She was staring at him, laughter twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"You want to tell me what you find so amusing?" he asked.

"How is it that we start out with great expectations of making love for hours only to have our good intentions shot down in one swoop?"

He smiled, then became serious. "But the night's not over, and this time I don't have to leave your bed." He settled beside her. "Just let me catch my breath."

Max was a man who took his promises seriously. When they lay tangled in each other's arms for the third time that night, their bodies slick with the heat of pa.s.sion and drowning in their own world of contentment and fulfillment, Nicole was the first to move. "Max..."

He made a humming sound for an answer, too exhausted to form the words in his mind, much less speak them out loud. As he struggled back from that dark velvety place Nicole had thrust him, he tried to prepare for the usual female postcoital talk.

"Would you make Karen and Andy back off?. Tell them I don't need my eyebrows plucked. And while we're at it they stole my boots and jeans.

I want them back."

He should have remembered Nicky was different from any woman he'd ever met.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

NICOLE FOUND it strange to wake up in the morning with a man beside her. Stranger still that she was wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs with the soft sounds of breathing in her ear and it hadn't bothered her. Her ex-husband didn't like to snuggle or sleep close. He said it made him hot.

She grinned. Obviously it made Max hot, too, but not in the same way as her ex. One of her legs was wedged between his, and she moved it slowly in a back-and-forth motion.

"That's the nicest way to wake a man up I can think of. But unless you're prepared to follow through, I'd advise you to stop." His voice was husky with pa.s.sion.

"Are you up for it? After last night, that is."

He disengaged his arm from under her head and propped himself up on one elbow. "Fm always up--as you can feel--for anything. Want to take a stab at finding out?"