Borrowed Identity (9 page)

“I’m not locked away. I visit with Margo and Wade. I go into town sometimes.”

“Have you ever thought about getting a job?”

“I’m independently wealthy,” she said. “I don’t have to work.”

“But it would give you some sort of fulfillment. You need that.”

“Stop telling me what I need!” She lowered her voice. “I thought you liked me for me. Just the way I am.”

“I do.”

Michael slid off the edge of the desk and stood next to her. He lifted his hands to her hair, slipping his fingers into the tangled curls. She wanted to bolt like a frightened horse. Her feelings didn’t make sense to her anymore. She was engaged to Michael. She was going to be his wife. So why was it hard to be in the same room with him now?

Why did the thought of kissing him send her spinning into flight mode?

He lowered his head and touched her lips with his own, but the familiar velvety softness of his mouth hardened instantly, sweeping her into a maelstrom of sensation.

Kelly gasped, her expectations of a kiss changed forever. Michael’s kisses usually played like a gentle melody from beginning to end, but this was a thundering crescendo.

Kelly welcomed the kiss and deepened it. The smooth feel of his tongue gliding against her own sent a thrilling current of electricity through her veins. She wasn’t sure which of them had let out a groan, a throaty sound of primal desire. It didn’t matter. Her mind was swirling with colors, and she reached for him, running her hands up his back. Her fingers curled, digging into the muscles beneath the thick wool of his jersey.

The world around her ceased to exist. There was nothing but Michael. Nothing else mattered. Passion stirred within her and she was swept away on a tidal wave of pleasure.

She wanted more. She wanted to touch his bare flesh, but didn’t dare. The fear of rejection kept her from burrowing her fingers under the hem of his sweater. Instead, she savored what Michael was willing to give to her. She tugged at him, wanting him closer, and barely remembered the doubts she’d had about him.

But slowly, the little things that bothered her floated to
the surface. The changes in him. The secrets and lies lingering in his eyes. Did he really think she was so stupid that she couldn’t see them?

And there was the matter of those tiny pearls she’d found….

With a mighty shove, Kelly pushed Michael away.

He fell back, bumping into the desk, and a startled look crossed his face. It vanished in a second, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. It was so easy for him to cover his true emotions. She both envied and resented him for it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked calmly. But a tiny muscle in his jaw tightened visibly.

“I need to know something.” She hugged herself. It was a bad habit. She did it every time she felt weak or vulnerable. “I found pearls on the floor in my bedroom.”

“So?” His eyebrows arched, and he sighed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“My grandmother’s wedding gown has tiny pearls on it. You told me we didn’t get married. Therefore, there shouldn’t have been little pearls on my floor. I haven’t once taken my grandmother’s gown from the box in the attic.” Dropping her hands on her hips, she dared him to lie to her again. “Care to explain?”

He shook his head slowly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine,” she said. “Come with me then. I’ll show you.”

Kelly didn’t wait for his consent, but bolted out the doors, turning to the stairs on the right side. She felt rather than saw Michael follow her. His eyes burned into her back, making her feel as if she was on fire. She hurried her pace and practically ran up the staircase.

“Slow down,” Michael said. “It’s not important enough to break your neck over.”

Moving even faster, Kelly raced into the master bedroom and went straight to the heart-shaped trinket box on the van
ity. That was where she’d put the pearls. She flicked off the lid, practically shoving the box under his nose.

“Explain these, okay? Where did they come from if not from my grandmother’s dress?”

Michael glanced inside and shrugged. “Explain what?”

“What?” She looked into the box. There was nothing there. She reached in and felt around with her fingers, hoping the tiny pearls had simply blended with their surroundings, but she didn’t find any. The box was empty. How? “I know I put them in here!”

Was
she losing her mind? Had it been this way with her mother in the beginning?

Kelly threw the offending box across the room. It hit the wall, shattering into several pieces. The fragments fell to the floor, white shards on dark wood. They represented her life. She was going insane….

Michael’s hand caressed her shoulder.

She slapped it away. She didn’t want or need his pity. She hated him seeing her like this.

“I found pearls on the floor and I put them in that box. They were pearls off my grandmother’s wedding dress.” She repeated what had happened in a clear, disconnected voice. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Michael or herself. “I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t dreaming.”

Her upper body began to shake and tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to be crazy,” she cried.

He opened his arms and she automatically stepped into the comforting circle. He had strong, reassuring arms, hard muscle and warm flesh. She pressed her face to the groove of his throat, squeezing her eyes shut. Tears escaped, sliding down her cheeks.

“It’s okay,” he murmured while smoothing her hair. “You are not losing your mind. I’m sure of it. Believe me on this one, okay?”

“It feels like I am,” she sobbed.

“No, honey. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it.”

“Like what?” She pulled back, staring at his face through a watery film of tears. “How did the pearls disappear from my room? Either I imagined seeing them or I got rid of them and forgot doing so. Any way you look at it, I’m losing my mind.”

Michael opened his mouth as if to argue the point, but then closed his lips firmly, compressing them into a straight line. He obviously wanted to tell her something. So why didn’t he? Why was he holding back?

She withdrew from his embrace. She couldn’t trust him. He proved that fact over and over again.

She went to her bed and lay down, turning her back to him. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anybody.

She heard the door close softly behind him as he left her alone. Fresh tears filled her eyes. Her mother had hated it when Kelly cried. She remembered her mother screaming at her to grow up and stop acting like a baby. Kelly had grown up thinking crying was a sign of weakness, but now she saw it differently. She needed to cry. It was a cathartic.

She thought about her mother and choked back a sob.

M
ICHAEL PEERED INSIDE
the fully stocked side-by-side, stainless steel refrigerator. As far as he was concerned there was one clear explanation for Kelly’s hallucinations; she was being drugged. If that was the case, the drug would have to be in something she consumed on a daily basis.

Michael chose the midnight hour to dump the pitchers of iced tea and lemonade so Kelly wouldn’t walk in on him and demand answers. He cleaned out the refrigerator, throwing away anything and everything that could have contained a drug. Someone, anyone, could be lacing her food or drink with a drug that causes hallucinations. He would make certain the delusions stopped now. She wasn’t losing her mind.
He’d stake his reputation on that. Someone had to be drugging her.
Damn the situation!
He wanted to hold Kelly close, tell her the truth, help her deal with it.

But he couldn’t risk it. Not yet.

A sound in the hallway brought his head out of the refrigerator. He closed the door softly and glanced around in the dark, adjusting his eyes to it like a panther. Once again he longed for the security of his gun. He went to the open doorway and looked down the hallway.

A giant shadow moved, growing closer like a demon sent from the depths of hell.

Michael tackled the man, shoving him into the wall.

The man grunted.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” cried a familiar voice.

It was Kelly’s friend, Wade Carpenter.

“What are you doing here?” Michael released the giant, putting enough space between them so they could both breathe.

“I…I have a key,” Wade stated in a frightened tone. “Kelly gave me a key.”

Michael turned on the light and watched the intruder blink in the sudden glare. “Why were you skulking around in the dark?”

Wade shook his head without replying.

“I think you should leave now,” Michael said. He had no reason to hold the man, and Wade obviously wasn’t going to tell him anything. He held out his hand. “Hand over the key.”

“Kelly gave it to me,” the man whined.

“Yes, she did. But she didn’t think you were going to use it in the middle of the night. Give it to me. Now.”

Wade reluctantly handed the key to Michael. Head bent low, he walked away, tripping over his own big feet on the way out. As he did so, a pair of glasses fell out of one of
his pockets. The lenses broke, scattering tiny pieces of glass across the floor. Wade continued on, not picking them up.

“Wait,” Michael said. “You dropped something.”

“I found them. Finders keepers. Losers, weepers.”

“Where?”

“In the study,” Wade replied. “They were on the desk. I found them. I didn’t steal them.”

Michael waved him on, wanting the giant to leave. He almost disposed of the glasses in the kitchen garbage pail, but as he did so a fragment of glass nicked his thumb.

“Ow. Damn.” He sucked it into his mouth, cleaning the wound with his tongue. He slid the glasses into his pocket, figuring they could turn out to be an important clue. His eyes went to the ceiling as he wondered if Kelly was asleep yet. He imagined her in bed, pictured how she would look with her hair spread across the pillow. A new ache began in the lower part of his anatomy. It was going to be a long night.

S
OMETHING WOKE
K
ELLY
a little after two that morning. She heard a noise, a faint, raspy sound. Freezing in fear, she lay immobile beneath the heavy covers. She didn’t dare breath. Straining her ears, she listened for the slightest noise.

She wasn’t alone in the room.

Quiet footsteps moved across the floor toward her bed, coming closer and closer. She imagined herself running to the light switch and flicking it on. The light would make all demons disappear. But her body refused to obey her brain. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get out of bed and run. She lay there, stiff as a board.

Were the footsteps real?

The feeling of having an intruder in her bedroom was oppressive. She couldn’t breathe. The walls seemed to shrink around her.

Michael? If she called for Michael, he would come. He would save her from danger, real or imagined.

She opened her mouth to scream, but something soft wrapped around her throat, looped around her neck, squeezing her windpipe. She couldn’t see the man’s face, but she could feel his stinking breath on her. He smelled like cheap wine.

Kelly fought like a tiger gone mad, striking out at anything within reach. Her fingernails clawed at her attacker’s face, but he moved his head backward. She went for his hands then, digging her nails into them.

He cried out in pain.

Kicking furiously, she struck her intended target several times with her foot and was rewarded with another grunt of pain.

Yanking free, she finally tumbled off the bed and screamed.

Boomer barked in the distance.

The intruder was gone in an instant. Footsteps raced across the hardwood floor. A light flared and then faded into darkness.

She pulled the material the stranger had tried to strangle her with away from her neck, letting it fall to the floor. She gasped. Drawing air into her lungs proved to be a painful endeavor.

A second light appeared. With it came Michael’s voice. “What is it? Are you all right? Did you have a bad dream?”

She couldn’t speak. Her throat was raw, aching from the brutal pressure. Michael lifted her from the tangled sheets on the floor. His arms wrapped around her, strong arms that could keep the demons at bay. She knew as long as she was in his embrace nothing could hurt her.

She was safe, if only for a moment.

Chapter Six

Michael held Kelly to his chest, feeling the rapid tempo of her heart through his jersey. Something had scared the poor woman nearly to death. The fierce trembling turned to gentle shudders. He continued to hold her while stroking her thick blond mane. It didn’t matter if her demons were real or imagined. He would willingly slay them for her.

Michael wondered if this new need to protect came from lust or from a deeper emotion. The last woman to share his bed had been a spy intent on prying information from him through pillow talk. She had tried to kill him when he’d discovered her true identity. It hadn’t taken him long. His trust was not easily won.

Even now, while holding this beautiful angel in his arms, he took a mental step backward, away from the situation, and watched it unfold like an epic novel. Kelly Hall appeared to be a sincere, genuine person of strong character. She was a complicated individual, a mixture of frightened child and determined adult. His gut told him she was on the level.

But he would sleep with one eye open in case he was being deceived.

He wouldn’t be the first poor sap to be swayed by a pretty face. There might be treachery hiding behind those innocent blue eyes. Could he trust her with the truth? He wanted to,
but his past had slowly poisoned him. The idea of trusting anyone, even Kelly, filled him with a sickening dread.

Kelly snuggled closer as if she couldn’t get near enough. He tucked her head under his chin and tightened his arms around her. He wanted to shove his suspicions aside and believe this woman was the real thing. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He’d seen the dark side of humanity too many times to allow a pretty face and soft hands to make him forget his true purpose.

He had a job to do.