My Spy (9 page)

“You saved over forty people, ace. That makes you America's reigning hero.” Izzy spoke with just the right edge of challenge. “If you weren't so dog ugly, I'd have to be jealous.”

“A hero,” Sam repeated. His eyes closed slowly. “Can't remember.”

The pain medication finally kicked in, pulling him under.
He wouldn't have to fight anymore, Annie thought, or pretend he wasn't hurting.

She nodded at the medics, who pushed the gurney outside. On the bed Sam muttered, but didn't wake. She started to move her hands away, but he made a low sound of disapproval.

“Don't stop now, Doc. Just … getting good.”

Izzy studied Sam gravely. “We're going to have our work cut out for us.” His voice was low. “The big fool will be fighting his pain every step of the way.”

“Fighting can be good.” Annie slid one hand gently over Sam's hair. “And we'll be here to help him fight.”

“You okay?” Izzy asked softly.

How can I be okay? I touched this man. That night under the stars, I gave him a piece of my heart. He went away without a real good-bye, and now he's come back a stranger.

Though her eyes burned with unshed tears, Annie straightened her shoulders and smiled. “I'll survive.”

S
OMETHING
WAS
WRONG.

The pain was back, but Sam was already used to feeling pain. This was different.

He lay staring into the darkness, his whole body tensed. More of his imagination? First the surgeries. Then they'd pumped him full of medications in spite of all his protests.

He tried to block out the crushing pain, but he couldn't focus, couldn't see, couldn't—

Remember.

Not one damned thing prior to waking up in the hospital.

His name?

Okay, he knew that much.
My name is Sam McKade.

His lips twisted. He only knew
that
courtesy of a frowning doctor from the naval hospital. Even that might have been a lie.

He went through his usual inventory, testing legs, arms,
hands, fingers. Every muscle was weak, but they functioned, even if any movement made his left shoulder ache like hell.

He needed to get going, to start building himself up. He didn't have much time before…

Before what?

He tried to sit up. Instantly pain shot up his chest and clawed down his arm.

His fingers gripped the bed, tightened. Damn it, before
what
?

The darkness offered no answers as he fought for clarity, caught on the razor's edge somewhere between pain and sleep. Something whispered that he couldn't trust anyone, that things weren't what they seemed. Gritting his teeth, he blocked the dark slide to oblivion because he had to. Because he needed to remember.

Before it was too late.

A
NNIE
AWOKE
TO
THE
CRACK
OF
SHATTERING
GLASS.
Disoriented, she stared into the darkness, remembering she wasn't alone.

Sam.

She lurched from her bed, running down the dimly lit hall to the guestroom. “Sam?” she called breathlessly.

Through the faint moonlight she saw him, stretched across the bed, one arm caught in the sheets. His hands opened and closed as if trying to hold something that kept slipping away.

There was blood on the sheet. More blood at his shoulder. His body was rigid, every muscle of his chest defined.

Something stabbed her foot as she crossed the floor, but Annie ignored the discomfort. Sam's doctors had warned her to approach him slowly, never taking him by surprise. By training and experience, his instinct was to attack first and ask questions later. That instinct would only be sharpened by his disorientation and pain.

“Sam, can you hear me?”

“That you, Doc?” His voice was hoarse.

“Right here. What have you been doing, reenacting World War II in here?”

“Yeah. Feels like Normandy, except my side lost,” he muttered. “Gotta get up. No time to waste.”

“You're going nowhere, big guy.”

“Have to go. Have to tell them—”

When Annie touched his face, he was burning up, his eyes delirious. “Everyone's asleep, but you can call whoever you want in the morning. Since you've made a mess of that wound on your shoulder, we'd better fix it.”

He stiffened when she touched his arm. His mouth flattened to a hard line.

“No arguments. You're taking some pain medicine.”

“Like hell,” he said. “Don't need it. Do that thing with your hands and I'll be fine.”

“You take half your meds, and I'll give you half the massage. Then we'll clean up that wound, because it's got to be hurting like hell.” Annie waited impatiently. If he didn't agree, she'd have to call Izzy for firepower.

“Don't want the medicine.” The words were slurred. “Can't—think. Need to remember.”

“You can remember tomorrow,” she said softly. “If you don't sleep, you won't be good for much anyway.”

“Not good for anything now.” His hands opened, and one callused palm locked over hers. “Do it,” he rasped. “But only half.”

The stubborn, proud fool.

Annie found the bottle Izzy had given her and tapped out one pill. “Take this. Here's a glass of water.”

She watched him grimace as he swallowed. When he sank back, his eyes narrowed on her. “Your turn, Doc.”

“You think I break my promises?”

“I don't know you well enough to say.”

One brow raised, Annie sat carefully beside him, feeling the heat of his body through her thin nightdress. Ignoring the instant skim of heat where her body touched his, she reached down to his neck.

“Close your eyes. Focus on my hands.” Slowly, she worked her way along locked muscles and tender nerves until she felt his breath hiss free.

“Those hands of yours ought to be insured, Doc.”

“I'm not a doctor.”

“Who the hell cares?”

The compliment made Annie smile. “Don't tell that to the AMA unless you want me behind bars.” She traced the top of
his right shoulder, kneading smoothly. Suddenly his arms tightened.

“Let it go, Sam.”

“Can't.”

“Who are you fighting, the world or yourself?”

She heard him curse. “Both. Whenever I close my eyes I see a road with someone right behind me. I don't turn back but I can hear the engine. Louder, louder. And if I don't hurry—” He blew out a hard breath. “Sometimes it's so close I can touch it. Then later, I think I'm dreaming. Maybe I'm ready for a padded cell.”

“Stress can play nasty tricks. Let it go,” Annie repeated softly. “There'll be plenty of time to remember.”

He moved his arm restlessly. “I can't. Too important.”

“Trust me, fighting isn't going to help.”

“Fighting's … what I do best.” There was a grim edge to his voice. “Too late to change that now, Doc, even if I wanted to.”

Annie frowned in exasperation at the nickname. “Put it away, Sam.”

“Can't. Call it a—a guy thing.”

“So here's a girl thing: no rest, no therapy.
Capice?
” She moved away, glaring down at him.

He opened one eye. “Hell, don't stop now. I was just starting to feel human again.”

Annie's foot was throbbing. She must have cut it on something during her rush down the hall. She hid a grimace as she moved around him, smoothing his blankets. “Too bad, ace. It's my game here, with my rules and my scorecard. If you don't accept that, we might as well stop now because I can't help you.”

“Izzy was right. You
are
a dragon.”

“Absolutely. I breathe fire and consume chivalrous knights on a regular basis. Do you accept my terms or not?”

“For now.”

Annie sensed it was all she would get. Sighing, she bent closer, massaging his back. “Always fighting,” she muttered.

“Like I said, it's what I do best.” His hand rose, cupping her hip through her cotton nightgown. “
Almost
the best.” There was a faint curve to his lips.

Annie stiffened. Did he expect personal services along with the therapy?

She looked down, ready to set him straight. “There's another rule you should know about.” She caught his hand and set it on the bed, but the second she let go, he moved it back. “Sorry, but this one's nonnegotiable.”

No answer.

“Sam?”

His hand opened, and his breath came low and regular. He was already asleep.

I
ZZY
FOUND
HER
AT
THE
KITCHEN
TABLE
TWENTY
MINUTES
LATER, picking glass splinters out of her feet.

“I saw the light,” he explained when she waved him inside. “What happened?”

“Sam woke up. I finally got him settled and changed the dressing at his shoulder.”

Izzy frowned at her feet. “Looks as if you had a tussle in the process.”

Wincing, Annie drew out a particularly nasty sliver of glass. “I heard a noise and I raced to his room. By the time I realized he'd knocked over and broken a glass, it was too late to put on slippers.” She dropped another sliver into the saucer beside her. “Do you think this qualifies me for hazardous-duty pay?”

“I wouldn't hold out hope. Your resort fees aren't exactly cut-rate.” Izzy pointed to her heel. “Need some help with that?”

“I'm almost done.”

“In that case I'll take a look at our hero before I shove off.”

When Izzy returned, he looked at Annie curiously. “The man's dead to the world. Pain pills?”

“He agreed to take half.”

“Whatever your secret is, keep it up.” He watched Annie position a bandage over her right heel. “How was he when he woke up?”

“Definitely disoriented. Very determined to push himself.”

“That figures. Did he say anything else?”

Annie pressed a bandage on her other foot, then sat down. “He mentioned having a recurrent dream, something about being on a road and hearing a noise behind him, but not being able to see what it was. He was lucid enough to describe the dream, but he's afraid he's missing something.” Annie frowned. “Whatever it is, it feels darned important to him.”

Izzy drummed lightly on the table.

Annie waited, trying to read his face. “Was there a project he was working on, something that he left hanging?”

“If there was, the Navy didn't give me any details.”

“Maybe you need to find out. Something's gnawing at him, and eventually he's going to need answers.” She glanced at the clock and stood up. “I didn't realize it was so late.” She suppressed a yawn.

“You want me to take a shift here? I can bunk on the couch in Sam's bedroom.”

“No, I'll finish out the night.” Annie felt intensely protective about Sam, though she didn't want to explore the reasons why.

“In that case, I'll come by at seven. Anything big happening tomorrow?”

“Things should be fairly quiet since most of our regular guests are gone. My major headache is the new cedar whirlpools, which don't heat properly. The company is sending a troubleshooter to check out the problem.”

“You want me to handle that for you?”

Annie nodded, only too glad to leave the problem to Izzy. If he fixed her computer, he could probably fix a whirlpool, and
she was getting tired of fighting a battle to make the manufacturer take responsibility. “Next on my list is trying out some new mud wraps. Care to volunteer?” She had to laugh at his instant expression of distaste. “What, not interested?”

“I'll definitely pass on
that
assignment.”

“Your pores will never forgive you.” She grimaced as she walked him to the door. “I guess I won't be running for a few days.”

“Just as well. I can't watch Sam and tag along with you at the same time.”

“Are you saying I can't run alone while Sam is here?”

“Only the beach is out. If you stay inside the resort, you should be safe. For the moment.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“No, that's standard operating procedure,” Izzy said calmly. “Remember to lock up after me. I'll be listening.”

S
AM
WAS
HALF-DRESSED
AND
STRUGGLING
TO
STAND
UP WHEN
Annie checked on him at dawn.