Читать книгу Tell Me Your Secrets - Cara Summers - Страница 8

HE THOUGHT I was playing a game? I struggled to get my mind around what he’d just said. But as long as I was looking into Sloan Campbell’s eyes, my brain felt numb. My body, on the other hand, was far from numb. My senses were operating at full power. Sloan was only touching my shoulders, yet I could feel the pressure of each one of his fingers—hot like a brand on my skin. He was so close that I could catch the scent of rain and horse, so close that I could feel his breath on my lips. So close that if I leaned forward just a bit, I could taste him.

Don’t move, I told myself. Don’t move. But I was shocked at how hard it was not to.

“Well?” He prodded me with another little shake, and it helped.

“I’m sorry.” My voice and my mouth were finally working. Now it was up to my brain. And he was right. I was playing a game, so I’d better make my first move. “I don’t remember being Cameron. I am. I must be, but I just don’t remember.”

“Come again.” He dropped his hands then, but I could feel those eyes boring into me while I told him my story—the mugging, the fact that my purse had never been recovered so there’d been no way for the police to identify me. When I told him about waking up in the hospital and not having any idea who I was, I had the distinct impression that he could see right into me, that he knew what I was thinking. A little tendril of fear worked its way up my spine. Sloan Campbell might have a gentle side, but I sensed that this was a man who could be hard when he wanted to be.

“You’re saying that you don’t remember anything before you were mugged?”

His tone was skeptical, but I’d expected that. I could handle it. After all, how many people encountered a person who’d lost their memory in real life? Mostly, it occurred as a plot device in movies, romance novels, or soap operas. “My doctor assures me it’s temporary.”

“If you don’t remember who you are, how did you get here?”

That explanation I had down pat. I told him how I’d hired Rossi Investigations to find out who I was. “It took them a while because no one ever filed a missing persons report.”

“We assumed you’d come back after you’d sorted things out.” His tone was neutral. I couldn’t tell if he was buying the memory loss or not. I wasn’t an actress. I just wrote story lines for professionals who could bring them to life.

Then he was quiet for so long that nerves knotted in my stomach. To fill the void, I said, “I drove one of the SUV’s up here to see if getting a bird’s-eye view of the ranch would stir up some memories.”

“Did it?”

“No.”

“Do I look familiar to you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember you, but I recognize you from the newspaper clippings the P.I.’s gave me. You’re Sloan Campbell, Cameron’s—my fiancé.”

Tilting his head to one side, he continued to study me. “I’m not sure what kind of game you’re playing.”

The man’s eyes were mesmerizing, and for a moment, just one mad moment, I was tempted to confess. Then I thought of Cameron and what I’d come here to do. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Why are you so sure I’m playing a game?”

He touched me then, just the brush of a finger along my jawline. “Because you’re all about games. And you’re a sore loser.”

“Loser?” I had no idea what he meant. I was finding it very hard to think while he was touching me.

Without warning, Sloan slid his hand to the back of my neck and touched his mouth to mine. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The kiss was so soft. He didn’t press, didn’t demand. He simply tasted very gently. Still a riot of sensations moved through me.

Don’t respond, I told myself. But I could feel my lips soften and part. I could feel my whole body melt.

All the time he watched me with those gray, knowing eyes. I had to clench my fingers into my palms to keep from grabbing him. I wanted to use my hands on him, to drag them through his hair, to test the muscles under that shirt. All the while his taste poured into me until I was nearly drunk with it. With him.

When he drew back, I took a minute and prayed that my voice would be steady. Then I said, “What was that for?”

He regarded me for a moment through narrowed eyes. “A welcome back.”

But I knew it had been a test. What I wasn’t sure of was whether or not I’d passed.

“C’mon.” His tone turned brisk as he took my arm and helped me to my feet. “Let’s see if you can walk on that ankle.”

I concentrated on doing that. This time I was careful when I put weight on it, but it held. “It’ll probably be weak for a few days.”

Without comment, he led me over to where Saturn was still munching grass. Then he cupped his hands. “I’ll give you a leg up.”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He intended for me to ride the horse. “I drove up here in an SUV.”

“It’s your right ankle you twisted. It would probably be better if you didn’t drive until it’s stronger. I’ll send someone up to fetch your car.”

Still I hesitated. I had a feeling that as far as Sloan was concerned, this was another test. I just wasn’t quite sure what to do to pass it.

“Once he lets off a little steam, Saturn can be a perfect gentleman. If I’d put him in his stall right after taking him out of the trailer, he might have kicked a hole in one of the stable walls. But he’ll be fine now.”

Turning toward the horse, I raised a hand and ran it down his neck. “Hate to be confined, do you? I can sympathize with that.”

To my surprise and delight, Saturn neighed softly and turned his head to nuzzle my shoulder. I laughed as I looked at Sloan. “He’s quite a flirt.”

Sloan didn’t return my smile. Instead, he just regarded me with an odd expression in his eyes. “You don’t usually flirt back.”

I had a feeling that I’d failed some sort of test, so I figured I might as well go for broke. Placing my good foot in his cupped hands, I grabbed a handful of Saturn’s mane and swung myself up onto his back.

When I looked down at Sloan, he was still studying me. “He likes you, Red.”

“Red? Is that what you call me?”

A mocking glint came into Sloan’s eyes. “You tell me when you get your memory back.”

I met his eyes steadily. I was going to have to learn to hold my own with this man. “You still think I’m playing some kind of game, don’t you?”

Without answering, he swung himself up behind me, then reached around me to gather both ends of the rope into his hands. “The jury’s out on that one. I’ll let you know when I decide. In the meantime, you’ll have to tell your story to your father.” He raised a hand and pointed to the road that wound its way from the main highway to the ranch. “I believe that’s his car right now. If we hurry, we’ll reach the ranch about the same time he does.”

Sloan urged Saturn down the slope. Then he added, “James McKenzie is not an easy man to fool.”

SLOAN CAMPBELL WASN’T an easy man to fool, either. He loosened the tension on the rope to give Saturn more freedom to make his way down the slope. He was a man who prided himself on his ability to size up people as well as horseflesh. But “Red”—he’d decided to call her that until he figured out who she was—Red had had him going there for a few moments.

He had to admit that she was a dead ringer for Cameron, but his gut instinct told him that whoever she was, she wasn’t Cameron McKenzie. He let his gaze drift to the distinctive red hair, and wondered if hers had come out of a bottle. She had the same slender build, the same surprisingly long legs, considering the fact that she was barely five foot four. In body type and coloring, she could have been Cameron’s twin.

Except Cameron didn’t have a twin.

Still, whatever annoyance he felt for being taken in by “Red,” however temporarily, was more than matched by the admiration he felt for her guts and her creativity. He’d come damned close to buying her memory loss story. He might have if it weren’t for her eyes.

He’d seen something when he’d first grabbed her that he’d never seen in Cameron’s eyes. Desire. It wasn’t something a man could miss, and it had triggered a response in him. The kiss had been a test, and he wasn’t pleased by the fact that he’d wanted for a moment to take it beyond a test. What he’d felt when his mouth had pressed against hers had been raw and stunning. And for one brief moment, with her taste pouring into him, he’d wanted to go further. The only reason he hadn’t was because he hadn’t been sure he could stop himself from taking her right there on the bluff.

No woman had ever pushed him that far that quickly before. Certainly not Cameron. The kiss had been the clincher. The slender woman sitting in front of him was not Cameron McKenzie. But that left the questions—who the hell was she? And where was Cameron?

When Saturn finally reached level ground, Sloan urged him into a trot. His annoyance with himself deepened at the fact that he’d never once questioned that Cameron had run away in a snit five weeks ago. James hadn’t questioned it, either. No one had. She hadn’t taken her car, but she often used a limo service, claiming that being driven allowed her to get work done.

The night before she’d left, he and Cameron had had words, and she’d threatened to back out of the wedding, and he’d told her to go ahead. Not that he thought she would. Though six years separated them, they’d grown up together, and he knew her very well. She was high-strung, used to getting her own way, and he’d figured she’d stayed away five weeks to figure out a way to come back, go through with the wedding and still save face.

She wasn’t going to back out of the wedding. She’d given her word to her father. And while she might be spoiled, Cameron McKenzie never went back on her word. He’d convinced himself that she’d stayed away out of pride.

He’d told “Red” nothing less than the truth. Cameron liked to play games, and she didn’t like to lose. Had she found a double and set up this little charade by herself? For what purpose? But if she hadn’t set it up, he didn’t like the alternative explanations.

His gaze shifted again to the woman sitting in front of him, and his glance fell on the delicate curve of her neck right where it joined her shoulder. Arousal bloomed inside of him again, as raw and primitive as it had been when he’d kissed her.

The attraction he felt for her was going to be a problem. And he’d have to handle it.

Because the alternative was that Red was up to her neck in Cameron’s disappearance. A missing heiress and a ringer who was trying to take her place just a month before the wedding? He didn’t like that scenario one bit.

And Red might not be in this alone. There were groups of developers who would do a lot to get their hands on that strip of land along the Pacific. Sloan frowned. He liked that scenario even less.

He just had to figure out which way to play it. To play her. He wouldn’t let James or anyone else know his suspicions. No need to worry the old man before he had some evidence or at least a clearer idea of what had happened to Cameron. Besides, he might learn something from letting Red play out her little charade. Give her enough rope and she just might hang herself.

One thing was certain. Until he knew exactly what her game was, he was going to keep her on a very short leash.

SLOAN SAID NOTHING MORE on the ride back to the ranch, but I was intensely aware of him behind me on the horse. When we arrived, we rode past the stables and up a path that led to the back of the house. He dismounted, but before I could follow suit, hard hands gripped my waist and the next second I was on the ground. “Be careful when you put weight on that ankle.”

He didn’t step back right away. He just looked at me as if there was some answer in my eyes that he was determined to extract. If I’d known what it was, I would have given it to him.

By the time he dropped his hands, my knees had gone weak so I was very careful as I followed his advice and tested my ankle gingerly. “It’s fine.”

“I’m going to leave you in the kitchen with Elena. She’ll have an Ace bandage, and you’d better ice it tonight.”

I looked at him then, but his expression was unreadable. I wished that I could figure him out. Then maybe I could control my reaction to him. One minute, I was sure he was mocking me or testing me. The next he was kind and thinking of something like an Ace bandage.

Or kissing me. I was trying very hard not to think of that kiss.

An ancient-looking man, who had the slight build of a jockey, and the wrinkled face of Rumplestiltskin had followed us up the path and now took the rope from Sloan.

“Make sure you walk him in one of the rings and cool him down, Gus.”

The old man snorted. “You’re telling me how to handle a horse? I was working them before you were born.”

Sloan laughed as he turned to me. “Ms. Cameron’s back, but she doesn’t recognize you because she’s lost her memory.”

Gus shifted his gaze to me and nodded. “Welcome back, Ms. Cameron.” His eyes were nearly as penetrating as Sloan’s, but I saw a twinkle in them. “Lace Ribbons will be happy to see you. I’ve seen that she’s been exercised regularly while you’ve been gone.” Then with another nod, he turned and led Saturn away.

“He likes me,” I said.

The look Sloan gave me was enigmatic. “He’s known you since you were able to get down to the stables on your own.” Taking my arm, Sloan urged me onto the patio where I’d had tea earlier with Cole and Beatrice and then into the house.

“Now that Gus is spreading the word of your return, I want to be the first to let James know. I’ll help him get settled in his rooms, and then I’ll send for you. It might be too much of a shock if you just walk in.”

“Fine.” I watched him head toward the main foyer. That would give me a reprieve—and a little time out of Sloan Campbell’s disturbing presence.

As I made my way to the kitchen, I heard Elena welcoming James—my father. I was going to have to start thinking of him that way, I reminded myself.

In the meantime, I really needed to figure Sloan out. The fact that I was attracted to him—and there was no use denying that anymore—meant that I wasn’t thinking clearly about him. But I knew enough from creating characters that most people were defined by their motivations—the whys. What were Sloan’s? My instinct told me that he was not buying my story entirely. But why wasn’t he?

Did he have some reason to know for certain that I was not Cameron suffering from amnesia? I stopped short in the middle of the kitchen as I realized one reason he might have for seeing right through my little masquerade. Was Sloan Campbell responsible for my sister’s disappearance?