Читать книгу Callaway Country - Annette Broadrick - Страница 12

By the time Clay returned to the ballroom, Pam was no longer at the table where his mother and dad sat with two of his sisters and their husbands. He felt the tensed muscles in his neck and shoulders relax as he returned to his family’s table.

Well, he had finally seen Pam after all this time. He was irritated to have to face the fact that most of his reluctance to return to Texas had been due to the memories of her that surfaced whenever he came home. They were adults with other interests now. The fact that she wasn’t married didn’t surprise him. She’d made her opinion of that hallowed institution clear a long time ago.

He was greeted with warm welcomes from his sisters when he sat down with the family and explained that Melanie had decided to call it a night. He lost track of time while he caught up on family news and was surprised some time later when Cole stopped by the table and said, “Carina, I hope you’ll forgive me for borrowing your husband and son for a short while.”

She smiled. “Not at all, Cole. I would say the evening has certainly been a success. You had a great turnout.”

Cole looked around the room. Although many people had left, there was a solid group of dancers who showed no sign of stopping. “Allison is pleased. Frankly, I’ve decided I’m too old for this sort of thing. All I want to do is find a comfortable bed for a few hours.”

Clay and Cody followed him across the ballroom.

“Sorry it took so long to have this meeting,” Cole said. “The man heading up the group just arrived. We could have waited until morning but he was eager to meet with us for a few minutes, and since you were still here, I thought we could get the deal going.”

He paused in front of a door and opened it, standing back so that first Cody, then Clay walked through.

Two men stood at the end of the room talking. Clay immediately recognized his uncle, Cameron Callaway, who was second in command of Callaway Enterprises. However, it was the other man who made him stop in his tracks.

Cole closed the door and walked to the small conference table. “Sit down, everyone, and let me introduce you to Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carruthers, who is here to explain the reason for this meeting.” He glanced at Clay and smiled, as though amused by the look of shock that Clay figured must have registered on his face. “As well as your presence here, Clay,” he added.

Cole nodded to the man dressed in casual clothing and said, “Sam, these are my brothers, Cameron and Cody.” With a deliberate pause, he added, “I believe you know Clay.”

Even though neither of them was in uniform, Clay fought the reflex to salute a superior officer. He vaguely heard Cole say, “I’ll let you take over this meeting,” to the colonel.

Sam Carruthers was a wiry, tough-looking man of medium height. There was nothing about him to draw attention. Clay knew that was intentional. What in the hell was Colonel Carruthers doing there?

Carruthers looked around the small room and said, “Sit down, gentlemen, let’s get down to business. I’ll try to make this meeting as brief as possible.”

Each of the men quickly found a chair and sat down.

“First of all, I want to apologize for my delay in getting here. I’ve just come from a meeting with the deputy director of the CIA; the deputy director of National Security; and General Allred, head of Army Intelligence. We’re all concerned about the recent trouble you’ve had with several of your installations.”

He looked around the room, making eye contact with each man. “For the past five years, one of your companies has been working on a top-secret fuel for the military. As you’ve discovered, certain oil wells here in Texas have a tendency to develop a very high-octane fuel that the government has been interested in testing in our rockets and missiles, as well as possibly developing for tank and jet fuel.

“The recent attacks on your various facilities around the state have us very concerned, gentlemen. I’ve been assigned to head up my own team to investigate.” He looked at Clay. “When I was going through the roster of possible men to choose for this particular mission I came across your name. I remembered you from our training sessions at Fort Benning.”

Clay would never forget his training in Georgia, or the fact that Colonel Carruthers was the toughest of all the instructors he’d had.

“I decided to make you a part of our group,” Carruthers continued. “It was easy enough, given the circumstances, to arrange to send you home. I figured you’d want to be in on this mission since it affects your family. Am I right, Captain?”

“Yes, sir!” Which was the truth, of course, but they both knew there was only one correct answer to the colonel’s question.

Carruthers permitted himself a brief smile. “That’s what I figured. Of course, that leaves us with the dilemma of why you’re back home. We certainly don’t want it known that you’re on temporary assignment.”

“I’m on leave, sir. I was overdue for one and was told that I had no choice but to take it now.”

Carruthers nodded. “That will work for us. It goes without saying that no one must realize that the government has a private investigation going. I’m sure all of you understand that we’ll need to keep a very low profile. Therefore I’ll be working this mission undercover as well, so you can start thinking of me as Sam for the duration of this investigation.”

“Yes, sir. Uh, Sam.” Clay felt like a fool when the other man smiled slightly.

“I don’t happen to agree with the government’s position on this, Colonel,” Cole drawled. “Our security has been too tight on the fuel testing. Outside of the offshore drilling rig and its oil exploration, none of these explosions had anything to do with our government ties. I’m hoping that your investigation will also include a check for someone with a grudge against the family or some other kind of personal vendetta.”

“Yes, your theory was brought up at the meeting today. As thorough as you are, I take it you’ve done background checks on all your employees.”

Cameron spoke up for the first time. “We’ve had that system in place for several years, sir. This isn’t the first time our family has been the target of terrorism. I doubt it will be the last.”

“I understand your point,” Sam replied, meeting each man’s gaze. “As it happens, I decided to borrow one of the FBI’s best investigators to run a series of profiles on anyone who might be interested in harming the family. Pamela McCall informs me that she knows the Callaway family and she has the added bonus of having lived a large portion of her life in Texas. She said she’s looking forward to working on this project.”

He turned to Clay, who felt as though he’d just been slugged in the middle of his chest with a fist. The air seemed to have been knocked out of him with the colonel’s words.

“Clay, you and Pamela will be paired off on this mission. Our other man won’t arrive until early tomorrow morning. I’ll arrange a meeting for the whole group once he arrives. In the meantime, I think we could all use some sleep.” He looked at Cole. “On behalf of the government, we want you to know that we appreciate your concern and cooperation in this matter and we intend to get to the bottom of it quickly.”

“We appreciate the help, Sam.”

Carruthers nodded and stood. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen. Sorry to have this meeting so late, but as I said, we do what we must.” He shook hands with the three older men before turning to Clay. “I’ll call you in the morning and arrange a time to meet for breakfast. I take it you’re staying in the hotel?”

Clay had taken in little of the conversation after Pam’s name had been mentioned. When he realized the colonel was speaking to him, he forced himself to focus on his question.

“Uh, yes, sir.” He paused to recall the room number Melanie had mentioned earlier in the evening. “It’s room 937, sir. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

Clay left the room, his mind reeling. Sam Carruthers had requested him for this assignment. He still couldn’t believe it.

Carruthers had made a name for himself in Special Forces. Clay had the greatest admiration and respect for the man. Carruthers didn’t suffer fools gladly, and Clay was grateful he’d never been at the receiving end of one of Carruthers’s tongue-lashings.

He also knew that he would not make any points with the man if he asked not to work with Pam. However, he couldn’t fathom being paired with her for the duration of the investigation. So what in the hell was he going to do?

He glanced at his watch. He didn’t want to go back to the ballroom, so he headed for the bar. He ordered a double bourbon, then took it to a back corner and slid into a chair.

Pamela McCall.

With her appearance here tonight his past had reared up before him and slapped him in the face. Surely the intervening years would help him to deal with the present situation. He’d been tested by everything the army could throw at him, and he’d survived. In fact, he’d thrived. He enjoyed what he did. He served an important function in the military, dealing with terrorists. It made sense that these attacks fit that category.

He was honored that the colonel had asked for him, and he wanted to show him that his trust had not been misplaced. Between now and tomorrow morning Clay had to come to terms with his feelings regarding Pamela McCall.

Part of the problem was that she had been a part of his life for as far back as he could remember. By attempting to erase her from his memory, he’d also blocked out years of warmth and laughter that he’d shared with his parents and sisters. He’d realized earlier tonight how much he’d missed, such as his sisters growing up and marrying without his being there. The periodic visits with his parents hadn’t been adequate, as he’d faced tonight.

He’d associated his family with Pam’s presence in their midst. While he’d been in grade school he’d treated her as a kid—as a nuisance, in fact—the same way he’d treated his sisters. He’d spent his recreational time hiding from all of them back then, considering all girls to be pests.

Clay’s mind drifted back over the years, back to the time when he’d been a young boy with three sisters determined to make his life a living hell.…

Clay successfully eluded all the females around his house and headed toward the grove of trees a few hundred yards from the hacienda-style home where the family had lived since he was born.

He climbed to the top of one of the huge live oak trees, then settled into a comfortable position straddling a massive limb and raised his dad’s binoculars to his eyes.

He could see for miles and no one knew he was watching.

Boy, was he tired of females bugging him. At twelve, he’d discovered that he had to stay alert not to get in trouble when his sisters were around. Sherry Lynn wasn’t too bad. She was two years older and ignored him most of the time. But Kerry and Denise, ten and nine, always wanted to know what he was doing in his room, or they’d follow him around when he went outside.

But not today. Today they were playing with Pam, who’d shown up about an hour ago with her suitcase and a sad face. Her dad had to go out of town again because he was a very important man and he was needed to help run the country.

It was always easy for him to spot Pam when she played with his sisters. All of them had dark hair like Mama and her family. Pam’s blond hair made her look very different.

Clay lost track of time as he scanned the hills, watching deer feeding as well as cattle and sheep. When he paused to get a drink out of the canteen slung over his shoulder he saw furtive movement near the house.

He immediately raised the glasses and saw Pam standing very still next to the house. While he watched, she carefully looked around the corner, then ran across the driveway to the barn, slipping inside and out of sight. He drew back to get a wider angle and saw her leave the back of the barn and follow the trail to the creek.

Where was she going? Whenever she came to visit, Pam stayed with Kerry, sleeping in her room, playing dress-up and other dumb games. He looked back at the house. No one stirred. He looked back at the path. She’d disappeared into the trees.

Clay decided to follow her. He crawled down out of the tree very carefully, making sure he didn’t damage the binoculars since he didn’t exactly have permission to use them. Of course, his dad didn’t need to know he’d borrowed them if he put them back where they belonged before Dad got home tonight.

Once on the ground, he pretended he was tracking game, moving silently along the path. He stepped off into the underbrush when he reached the creek and stealthily lifted his binoculars to scan the area.

When Pam’s face suddenly filled the viewer, he jerked, startled to see her so close. He peered over the brush and saw that she had stopped at the edge of the creek. She’d found a large rock to sit on and sat staring into the stream.

He figured there was no reason to hide from her. He peered into the high-powered glasses once more before stepping out on the path. That’s when he realized she was crying. Silent tears slid down her face while she stared into the creek bed. The water wasn’t all that deep, but he wasn’t sure if she should be alone out there. What if she slipped and fell? Maybe hit her head and was knocked out? Then maybe she would drown and nobody would know.

He convinced himself that he needed to find out what was wrong before he went back to looking for wildlife.

She didn’t hear him until he was a few steps away. By then it was too late for her to hide the fact she was crying. She quickly scrubbed her face and said, “What are you doing here?”

He noticed that she’d changed clothes since she’d arrived at the ranch. When he’d spotted her getting out of her father’s car, she’d been wearing a dress. Now she had on shorts and a T-shirt with sneakers. The only thing that looked the same was her expression. She still looked sad…as well as irritated that he’d shown up.

He could certainly relate to that. Clay started to leave but he hated leaving her out here alone like that. So he came closer and said, “You wanna look through these binoculars?”

She turned and looked at him, her face still streaked where she’d hastily dried her cheeks. “Does your daddy know you have them?”

He shook his head. “So now you can get me in trouble if you want.”

She looked surprised. “Why would I want to do that?”

He shrugged. “How should I know, but that’s what Kerry and Denise seem to enjoy doing the most.”

She looked away, then back at him. “I know you get mad at your sisters but you should be glad you’ve got them.”

“You think so? It’s obvious you don’t have sisters or you wouldn’t say that. They’re always messing up my things, tattling, getting me in trouble. You’re lucky you don’t have to put up with all that.”

Whoa. That had obviously been the wrong thing to say, he decided. Tears started rolling down her cheeks again.

“Why are you crying?” He knew she’d probably get mad at him for mentioning it, but it was dumb to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

“Why don’t you just go away?”

He sat there for several moments, trying to think of something to say. Something smart alecky, maybe, or offhand. Nothing came to mind. So he decided to try the truth.

“Because I hate to see you so sad. And I thought that…well, maybe talking about it might help.”

“Talking about it doesn’t change a thing,” she said angrily, refusing to look at him.

“Don’t you like coming out here to see us?” he finally asked, trying to figure out what had her so upset.

“It’s not that. Not really,” she finally replied softly.

“You miss your dad?”

A sob escaped. “I just wish I had a family like yours. You don’t know how lucky you are. I see how your mom and dad are around each other, laughing and teasing, and the way they are with you and your sisters. And it makes me hurt inside.”

“Do you remember your mom?”

She shrugged. “I was six when she died. And she’d been sick for a long time. I never heard her laugh, or my dad joke with her. Now he’s gone so much. Paulette tries to do things with me, but she’s just the housekeeper. She and Carl are paid to live there and look after things. They don’t do it because they like to.”

“You can be a part of our family, if you want.”

“Not really. I don’t look anything like you. Nobody would believe I’m a Callaway.”

“You don’t have to look like us. Some of our cousins have your color hair, or close.”

She almost smiled. “Just what you need, Clay. Another sister.”

He thought about that for a while. “Well, maybe that would be okay. I mean, we could talk about things—like we’re doing today. And I could show you some of the places I’ve found on the ranch that I’ve never told anybody about—an old log where I found a nest of raccoons once. And some caves that I think coyotes live in. You could pretend I’m your brother, couldn’t you? Someone to talk to when you’re upset or mad or something?”

She thought about that for a long time. “I don’t care what Kerry says about you,” she finally said. “I like you, Clay.”

“Well. Good. I like you, too, Pam. And I’m glad you stay out here on the ranch with us. Heck, you’re practically family already.”

After that day, he made a point to keep an eye on Pam, both when she was visiting the ranch and at school. As he grew older he found it easy to talk to her and tell her about things at school, fights he had with his sisters, and the time he got sent to the principal’s office.

She in turn told him about her teachers and things she liked to do and the classmates she worked hard to avoid. He learned to trust her…and she trusted him.

He could still remember his junior year in high school when he’d successfully intercepted the pass for the winning touchdown. Pam had been the first one there when he walked off the field, fighting her way through the other players to reach him. She’d thrown her arms around his neck and given him an enthusiastic kiss that rocked him back on his heels.

Until that moment, Clay had considered Pam a very special friend who patiently listened when he discussed his frustration with other girls, his struggle to bring his English grades up, and what he wanted to do in college.

Now he found his arms wrapped around a delectable female. He discovered that he didn’t want to let go of her. Instead, he responded to the kiss with wonderment, only letting go of her when his teammates started making catcalls and whistling.

Nothing was ever the same after that.

For the next two years he and Pam were a pair. His parents were amused, remembering his grousing as a young boy about all the girls at home. Now he didn’t mind it a bit when she stayed over at the ranch for a weekend or longer, when her father was gone for long periods of time.

By his senior year he’d decided to join the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M University. The corps was the largest uniformed body of students outside military academies. Organized like the military, it was a student organization and it provided cadets the opportunity to receive a commission in the United States Armed Forces.

Pam had another year before graduating from high school, and she was already planning to go back east to one of the universities there.

It was the night before Clay left for college that everything changed between them once more.…

“Where would you like to go tonight?” Clay asked as soon as he picked Pam up in his ancient pickup. He was nervous and on edge. Of course he was glad to be going off to college. It had been his dream for years. What he hadn’t counted on was this hollow deep within him at the thought of not seeing Pam every day.

She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. With a small shrug, she said, “I don’t care.”

“Well, gee, you don’t have to sound so enthusiastic about seeing me tonight.”

She turned and stared at him in the shadowed interior of the truck. “Well, excuse me for not being excited about the fact that you’re leaving!”

He slid his hand beneath her hair and rubbed the nape of her neck. “I know, honey. But this is hard on me, too.”

“How can it be? You’ve got a whole new life to look forward to. I’m the one who has to keep going to school in the same place, only without you.”

He pulled her closer and softly kissed her. “I’ll be with you, don’t worry. I’ll always be there anytime you want me.”

She threw her arms around his neck and hung on to him. “Oh, Clay. I’m sorry for ruining your last night home, but this is so hard for me! You’ve been my very best friend for years and now you’ll be gone.”

“You know I’ll come home every chance I get. It isn’t that far. Just a few hours. And you can come see me.”

She sighed. “I know. I’ve known I’d have to face this day for months. It just got here too fast.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. So why don’t we watch some funny movie, then get the richest concoction of ice cream and syrups made and forget about tomorrow for a little while?”

“Something with chocolate ice cream…and chocolate syrup.”

“Man, you drive a hard bargain, but okay.”

It was barely eleven by the time they got back home that night, but Clay was pleased to see that Pam had enjoyed the movie and the huge, custom-made banana split.

As soon as he pulled up in front of her house, she said, “It’s too nice a night to go inside. Why don’t we sit out in the gazebo for a while, unless you need to go?”

“Sounds good.” He helped her out of the truck, took her hand, and together they wandered into the large backyard of the McCall family home. The gazebo could not be seen from the house, giving them the illusion of being alone in a night filled with stars.

“You promised to write,” she reminded him.

He made a face. “Or call. You know how much I hate writing letters.”

They sat down on the padded cushions of the gazebo. Pam began to tell him about her memories of growing up with the Callaways. They laughed at some of the silly things that had happened—the water pistol fights, playing dress-up with the old clothes found in the attic, telling ghost stories late at night. Finally, she said, “I hate to think what my life would have been like if I hadn’t known all of you.”

He hugged her to him. “Well, just think about this time next year when you’ll be the one leaving, going out of state. Time seems to fly by so fast.”

He kissed her. He loved kissing her, loved the way she gave herself up to him, returning his kisses with enthusiasm. Only tonight their kisses had to last for weeks and weeks. When he realized that his control was getting away from him, Clay straightened and pulled away from her.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

“I have to,” he replied, his shaky voice revealing how much his body trembled.

But he didn’t. Even now, so many years later, Clay couldn’t remember exactly what had caused them to lose the control that had always been in place before. They’d been innocent kids, dreading the idea of not seeing each other for a while, wanting to express the love they each felt for the other.

By the time he left her that night, they’d made love—awkward, fumbling, terribly uncertain, neither of them knowing what to expect. He’d been scared, and later worried about the fact that he hadn’t used any protection.

They’d lucked out, and from that time on, he was never without protection. For the next year, whenever they could be together, they explored this new realm they had discovered. They learned what gave each of them pleasure and they talked about the time when they would marry—after both of them finished college and were settled in their careers.

Their futures were planned…until the night Senator McCall found them together in the gazebo wearing nothing but moonlight, and demanded an immediate wedding.

The rattle of ice against the glass brought Clay back to the present. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to discover it was almost two. He had actually forgotten about Melanie waiting for him upstairs. What did that tell him about his frame of mind? He shook his head. He’d been awake too long, had crossed too many time zones, and had had too much to drink.

It was time to go upstairs; even though at the moment the most appealing aspect of the idea was that he could get horizontal for a few hours and pass out.

He left the bar and checked at the concierge desk for his bag. Once he had his belongings, he stopped at the front desk and asked for a key to the suite.

He was given a card that was programmed to unlock their room and took the elevator to the ninth floor.

At this time of night, very few people were stirring. His footsteps made no sound as he walked down the hall and paused in front of his room. He let himself into the suite without making any noise. Faint light glowed at the windows and he spotted the open door to the bedroom without need of further illumination.

Melanie had no doubt been asleep for hours.

He couldn’t help but be relieved. Too many things had happened to him tonight to be able to deal with his feelings for Melanie. If anyone had asked him yesterday, he would have said that he was ready to make a commitment to her. However, at the moment he was battling ghosts from the past that weren’t fair to bring into their relationship.

He probably should get another room for the night, but the truth of the matter was, he was too tired to go many more steps without some sleep. Melanie would be perfectly safe with him tonight. He’d make his apologies tomorrow and go from there.

By the time he reached the doorway to the bedroom he’d already removed his jacket and tie. His shirt and belt soon followed, leaving a trail of clothing into the darker room. He felt his way to the bed and gingerly sat down on the side.

Melanie didn’t stir.

He quickly removed the rest of his clothing except for his briefs, then slipped between the covers with a silent sigh. The pleasure of feeling a bed beneath him was all he needed to drift into a deep sleep.

He and Pamela were in the gazebo. It was dark, with only a sliver of a moon to cast a soft light over the area. This wasn’t the Pamela he remembered from his teenage years. This was the Pamela that he’d seen in the ballroom…still wearing the shimmering silver dress.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” he said, reaching out to touch her hair.

“How could I not come, Clay? I wanted you to know that I…” Her voice trailed off.

“What, Pam? What did you want me to know?”

“That I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve loved you for years and years. You were my first love…my only love.”

She shivered and he slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. “I find that hard to believe, given the circumstances,” he replied.

“I wish I’d been better equipped to explain. How does an eighteen-year-old find the words, the maturity, to tell you that she’s fighting for her life? There was so much I wanted to accomplish before we were ready to discuss marriage.”

“Yeah, and that was my fault. I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.”

“It was what we wanted, Clay. It wasn’t just you. Once I’d actually made love to you that first time, all my fantasies were about doing it again.”

“We were such kids back then. I thought my dad was going to kill me for touching you.”

She stroked his jaw. “We’re adults now, Clay. No one will interrupt us.”

He stared at her in shock. “You want to make love with me?”

She reached behind her back and caught the zipper that slid down her spine. The dress fell away from her, leaving her standing in a lacy, see-through bra and matching panties. “Very much.”

“I don’t know, Pam. So much has happened to both of us since those days. We can’t just—” Somehow he couldn’t keep his mind on what he was saying as she unfastened his pants and slid them down his legs.

As soon as she touched him, his body responded. She cupped him, crooning her admiration and satisfaction.

He scooped her up and laid her on the padded bench, rapidly disposing of the remaining items of clothing they both wore. He slipped his hands through her hair, removing hairpins until it fell like a veil around her head.

“Do you have any idea how many dreams I’ve had of you, dreams of making love to you, dreams of you looking at me in just that way?” he whispered.

“Show me, Clay,” she responded, placing her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her.

He knelt between her legs, resisting the urge to plunder. Instead, he wanted to take his time and explore her. He leaned down and licked the hardened tips of her breasts, one after the other, smiling when she shivered.

“Are you still cold?” he asked.

“No. Oh, no. I feel as though I’m burning up inside, waiting for you to take care of the fire.”

He rewarded her honesty with a kiss that represented all the years of missing her, loving her, grieving for the loss of her in his life. Then he began a trail of kisses down her body, wanting to memorize her with his mouth and tongue.

She cried out when he touched her through her thick curls. He savored her for a moment before trailing kisses down her inner thigh and the back of her knee. He glanced up at her as she lay with her eyes closed and her neck arched slightly, her body glowing in the dim light from the moon.

He moved to the other knee and began his slow way back up, pausing once again at the apex of her thighs, giving her the pleasure he denied himself.

She groaned out his name, her breathing uneven. No longer able to lie quiet, she undulated, silently begging him to enter her.

He could no longer ignore her plea. In one long stroke of possession he moved inside her, fighting to maintain his control until he brought her to the very peak they both sought.

She wrapped her legs around him, holding him tightly against her, and met each thrust with her own. She chanted his name with each movement, placing hot kisses on his mouth, his cheeks and his jaw.

It had been so long—too long—but he could no longer hang on to his control. Instead, he increased his pace, moving faster, his rhythmic movement driving them both onward. He felt her tension increase until her involuntary spasms signaled that she had gone over the edge, taking him with her.

When he felt his own body release he cried out her name as he tumbled into the darkness of oblivion once more.

The persistent br-ring of a nearby phone drifted into Clay’s consciousness, forcing him out of an almost unconscious state. Without opening his eyes he fumbled for the receiver and pulled it to his ear. “H’lo,” he mumbled.

“Rise and shine, Callaway. We’ve got work to do.” Sam’s rumbling voice was like a shock of cold water.

“Yes, sir,” he responded automatically.

“Meet me downstairs at the coffee shop in twenty minutes.” Sam hung up the phone.

Clay let the receiver drop back into the cradle with a groan. He felt as though he’d just fallen into bed. He forced his eyes open to a squint in order to see his watch. It was almost eight o’clock. He hadn’t gotten to bed until after two, but he was thankful to have gotten at least a few hours of rest.

He rolled over onto his back and only then remembered that he was sharing the bed with Melanie.

Melanie. Had he made love to her last night? Or had he dreamed it? He couldn’t remember what was fatigue-induced fantasy and what had actually happened. He definitely recalled dreaming at one point, but not about Melanie. He’d been dreaming about—

He sat up in bed and pushed the covers away. He had to get downstairs right now. This was the day he was officially assigned to work with a woman he’d hoped never to see again.

He glanced over his shoulder and met the horrified gaze of the woman in bed with him.

He closed his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating. Melanie’s eyes were a gorgeous black. The eyes staring at him were a pansy-blue. There was only one woman he’d ever known with eyes that color.

Pamela McCall.