Читать книгу The Princess Has Amnesia! - Patricia Thayer - Страница 11

The trip took him nearly thirty minutes, but Jake made the climb over the ridge without much problem. The rain had finally slowed, and he hoped it would stay that way until he finished his task.

When he reached the edge of the ravine, he paused, amazed at the destruction. Entire rows of trees had been bent or broken off by the force of the jet, but in the end, the mountain won out.

His gaze lowered to the yards and yards of debris scattered along the ground. He walked past what was left of the tail, then to the plane’s fuselage, and the twisted metal was all that was left of the wings. They’d been stripped away as if the plane were a toy. Only the midsection remained intact and that was where Ana had been seated. Jake glanced inside and saw the cushions that she’d placed around her; the padding must have saved her in the crash.

He quickly moved on. A job needed to be done before he could look for any clues about his guest. It could be days before anyone arrived to investigate the accident. Jake had to be careful not to disturb too much, but he couldn’t just leave the bodies unprotected, either. He walked about twenty yards up the slope to a pine tree, removed his backpack and picked up the shovel.

About an hour later, he’d finished his digging. Ignoring his fatigue, he returned to the plane and removed the first body from the cockpit. He took the man’s ID from his pocket. In bold black letters it proclaimed him to be, Rory Hearne, Penwyck security, top priority clearance.

“Rory,” he said the name aloud. “So you’re the one she called out for in the night.” Jake experienced a tightening in his gut that felt suspiciously like jealousy. That was crazy. He didn’t even know the woman. Why would he care if she and this Rory were lovers?

Jake lifted the other man from his seat and retrieved his ID. He found a pilot’s license for Stephen Loden also from Penwyck. That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary since the small island of Penwyck wasn’t too far off the coast of Wales.

After tucking Rory’s gun into his belt and the wallets into his jacket pocket, he started to lift the pilot and noticed a small tattoo through the tear in his shirt. A small, black sword. Where had he seen that tattoo before? During his years with the bureau, Jake had accumulated a lot of miscellaneous information, read over hundreds of advisory reports. As a terrorism specialist, his life had depended on it.

A sword. Jake searched his memory. The black sword represented the Black Knights. That was it. The Black Knights were a subversive group located in Europe.

Now he wanted to know what a security guard with top clearance and a pretty blue-eyed girl, with no memory were doing with a rebel. He had a lot of questions to ask his guest when he got back to the cabin.

She woke up with a killer headache, desperate to find something to stop the pounding. Climbing out of bed, she found the dog at her feet.

“Hello, fellow. Where’s your master?” Not that she wanted to deal with the rude man, but she needed medication.

Still in the blue shirt that he’d given her, she gingerly walked to the door of the bedroom and opened it. There was a small fire in the hearth, but the room was deserted. Grimacing, she made her way to the kitchen area and located the first-aid kit.

Trembling with relief, she popped open the lid and found the bottle of aspirin. She removed two tablets, then took a glass from the cupboard. Pumping the water was a little difficult, but she managed. After swallowing the tablets, she went into the sitting area by the dying fire. My word, she was cold. There was a blanket on the back of the couch. She wrapped it around her shoulders and a familiar male scent suddenly filled her nostrils. She could smell him. Sitting down on the cushion, she burrowed into the warmth and closed her eyes.

She could picture the brooding man, dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, his face drawn, tiny brackets lining the corners of his mouth. His straight white teeth were visible when he smiled, which was a rare occurrence. It was his beautiful raven-colored eyes that drew her attention, but the sadness she saw nearly broke her heart. What had happened in his life that made him want to live off by himself? A woman? What kind of woman was the man attracted to? Blondes…brunettes?

She reached for a strand of hair. Hers was light brown. Plain light brown. Did someone think she was attractive? Was someone out there missing her, aching for her to come home? She tried so hard to remember, but there were only blank spaces. Was there no one for her? She had been in limbo for the past two days. What was worse, her rescuer, Mr. Sanderstone, didn’t want her around. Well, she didn’t care. The Yank was bloody annoying. He was also handsome and very well built. What a pity he didn’t have any manners, any polish.

A splattering of heavy raindrops hit the window, and she stared out the cloudy pane at the storm. Would she ever be able to leave here?

Suddenly there was pounding on the door. She got up and walked over, hesitating on her next move. Then she heard a familiar voice. “Hey, open up, it’s raining like hell out here.”

She unlatched the bolt and swung open the door to find Jake. He was soaked to the skin and he looked angry.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

He pushed passed her, stripped off his rain gear and hung it up on the hook “I’ve been up on the ridge, burying your friends.”

She gasped. “My friends? Do you know who I am?”

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to look around to learn your name. The weather turned on me. After I buried the bodies, I had to start back.” He took a chair from the table, sat down and started pulling off his wet boots. He jerked off his sweater, then unbuttoned his shirt as he tugged it from his pants.

With his black hair plastered against his head, he reached for a towel in the kitchen and mopped the water from his face and hair as he walked to the hearth. He looked at the fire and cursed. “Couldn’t you at least keep the fire going while I was gone?” He removed the screen and placed several logs on the dying embers.

“I wasn’t informed that you had left. And there were no written instructions telling me to keep anything going.”

“Common sense would tell you to add logs to the fire when it’s going out.”

“You seem to forget that I was in a plane crash yesterday and I don’t have any memory,” she snapped. When she stood, her head began to spin and she swayed.

Alarmed, Jake rushed to her side. “Whoa.” He grabbed her by the arm, led her to the couch and sat her down. Damn. What was wrong with him? He was being a jerk.

“Does your head hurt?” Stupid question. He could see the pain in her eyes.

“Yes, I took some medication from the first-aid kit.”

“Then rest here.”

“No,” she said, refusing to lie back. “I want to know what you found at the plane. Who…died?”

He shook his head. “We can talk about it later when you’re feeling better.”

“I need to know now,” she demanded. “Who were they?”

He didn’t want to go over this now, but it looked like he didn’t have a choice. “There was a Rory Hearne, he was a security guard from Penwyck. Do you remember him?”

She shook her head again. “No.”

“You sure? You cried out his name last night when I tried to wake you. It seems you were pretty familiar with this guy.”

She frowned. “What are you insinuating, Mr. Sanderstone?”

He didn’t like the feeling that had creeped back into his gut. “I’m only stating facts, chère.”

“Well, stop it. You act as if I’m guilty of something. What if this Rory and I were…together? Is there any reason we shouldn’t have been?”

“No, but we’re trying to find out who you are.” He was pushing her, but since his discovery, this situation had grown a lot more serious. And he needed some answers. “Does the name Stephen Loden ring any bells?”

She shook her head. “Was he the other man in the plane?”

Jake nodded.

“I want to thank you for burying them. That was kind of you.”

“Forget it. I did what needed to be done.”

“It was more than anyone could have expected of you, especially in this weather.”

He got up. “Okay, I’m a nice guy.” He started toward the bedroom. “I’m going to change my clothes.”

Once inside the room, he shut the door harder than needed, but his frustration drove him to it. He jerked off the wet shirt along with his undershirt. He was soaked to the skin. Peeling off his wet jeans was more difficult, but he managed. Opening the dresser drawer, he took out underwear and another pair of jeans.

What was he going to do now? He’d come here to Wales to get away from complications like this. And he’d had one big problem dropped in his lap. But this one was attached to a gorgeous woman with an attitude.

Not to mention a pair of legs that made his mouth water.

By the third day, Jake had cabin fever.

For the first time since he’d arrived in the mountains four months ago he wanted to leave. Thanks to one blue-eyed intruder, his peace and quiet—not to mention his solitude—was a thing of the past.

Why should it matter so much if he had a visitor for a few days? The cabin sure as hell wasn’t big, but two rooms should be enough for two people. He wasn’t so much of a bastard he couldn’t share his space…for a while. Unless, of course, the other person was a woman who seemed set on driving him crazy.

“Yank indeed,” he muttered, watching the continuing downpour through the window. Seventy-two hours had passed since he found his visitor, and as soon as this damn storm was over, he would take her down to the authorities and hand her off. But not before he satisfied his own curiosity and found out who his cabin mate was. Especially not until he found out what she was doing with a member of a known terrorist group.

He glanced across the room to Ana. Awake for the past thirty minutes, she sat quietly at the hearth, studying the fire and looking innocent. The shirt he’d given her to wear nearly swallowed her up. He could barely see her fingertips under the cuffs, which made her look fragile. He pushed aside any feelings of compassion as his gaze wandered down past the shirttails to her long, smooth legs. Another basic need surfaced and a surge of heat rushed through his body.

He growled a curse. She must have heard him because she looked up. Her hair, wild with curl, circled a pretty face, only marred by the bandage on her forehead. When their eyes locked and hers darkened like twin sapphires, he found his throat suddenly dry. Damn, she was gorgeous. Realizing that he was staring, he forced himself to look away, but his hunger stayed.

He couldn’t let this woman get to him. Hell, she had a life somewhere. She could be involved in God knows what. So even if he wanted to pursue his interest, he couldn’t let anything happen between them.

Her health had to be his main concern. “How is your head?”

“It still hurts.”

“No doubt. You must have walloped yourself but good when the plane came down. You’re lucky to have survived.”

“Tell that to the two men who died.”

“You’re not responsible for their deaths.”

Frowning, she stood. “Then why do I feel responsible? Why do I feel that they were taking me somewhere? You said I was the passenger and they were flying the plane.”

“Yes, and one was a licensed pilot. Besides, the plane had been cleared by the airport to take off.” He came across the room and took a closer look into her rich enticing eyes, telling himself that he was only checking her pupils. They were normal. They had been for the past twenty-four hours. “You can’t keep second-guessing everything. It won’t change a damn thing.”

“Well, it gives me something to think about since I don’t have any other memories before yesterday. What do you do when you’re by yourself around here? Besides go mad.”

He shrugged. “There’s plenty to do.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “For instance?”

“Like fishing, or riding or hiking. This area is beautiful.”

“All I’ve seen is this room.” Her eyes widened. “And of course, the wonderful facilities out back.”

Jake was getting fed up with the woman’s complaining. “Well, you better head to those facilities once more, because it’s about bedtime.”

“It’s barely dark,” she said.

“And we’ve both been up since long before daylight,” he insisted.

“But I’ve slept all day. I’m not tired.”

“Well, I am.”

“Then you take the bed and I’ll sleep out here.”

Damn, she was stubborn and he needed to get as far away from her as possible. He needed to be alone, even if he had to lock her in the bedroom to do it. He swung her up into his arms.

“Put me down this instant,” she ordered.

Jake ignored her demand and carried her into the small room crowded with a double bed and dresser. He pulled back the blankets, then laid her down on top of the sheet. When she started to argue, he leaned over her and placed his finger against her lips. “Whether you know it or not, chère, you need to rest. You’ve been through a lot in the past two days.”

All the fight seemed to leave her and she nodded. When she reached for his hand, her soft warmth made his gut tighten in a familiar and long denied need. A need he had pushed aside long ago.

“I can’t keep taking your bed,” she said. “What about you?”

Jake’s desire flashed hotter and moved dangerously lower. Hell, he knew where he wanted to sleep, but he fought the crazy urge to climb in with her. “You’re not taking anything, I’m offering.” He moved back before he did something very foolish. “Besides, I want some time to myself. This way we won’t disturb each other. I’ll be fine on the couch.” He sounded a little too gruff, but hell, she wouldn’t leave it alone. “If you need anything holler.”

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Sanderstone, I’ve never ‘hollered’ in my life,” she said indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jake wanted to laugh at his haughty houseguest. She looked distant and untouchable, but he knew that was far from the truth. He turned and left the room, hoping for a peaceful night. But he knew that peace wasn’t possible as long as Ana was in the cabin.

Ana woke up the next morning and realized two things; she still couldn’t remember who she was, and it was still raining. Climbing to her knees on the bed, she leaned against the adjacent windowpane and looked out at the heavily wooded forest. She’d had high hopes that today she would be able go outside. And if the skies cleared, that would allow a rescue team to start searching for her.

But who would be searching? She had no idea. She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to remember, but there was nothing. Dear Lord, she had no idea how old she was. She tugged on the gold charm around her neck. Who had given it to her? A husband? She studied her bare ring finger. Who was Rory? Was he important to her?

Ana sat down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. What if she never regained her memory? Worse, what if no one was looking for her? In her head, she conjured up all kinds of scenarios, none of which helped calm her anxiety.

A loud knock broke through her reverie. Then the door swung open and Jake appeared. He had changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a blue and green flannel shirt. He’d washed up, too. His long hair was damp and his face free of any beard stubble.

He frowned. “You all right?”

She nodded and quickly blinked away her threatening tears.

“Don’t give me that.” Looking concerned, he walked to the bed and sat down next to her. “Are you in pain? Is it your head?”

“No, I’m feeling fine.” She tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“You’re not fine if you’re crying.”

“I’m not crying.” She just felt like it. “I have a reason to be upset…I still can’t remember anything.” Now the tears rushed out along with the words.

“You need time. It’ll happen,” he promised. “It’s only been a few days.”

“It’s been four.” Ana suddenly felt weepy. She hated weepy women. She’d never resorted to tears before, but now she couldn’t seem to stop them.

Jake scooted closer on the bed and she breathed in the familiar scent of soap and the man. When his hands gripped her by the shoulders, she looked up at him. His coal-black eyes locked with hers, and she could see compassion and concern. A strange stirring erupted in her stomach, and she was oddly disappointed when he released her.

“Come on, chère, don’t go all mushy on me.”

She stiffened. “Mushy? I’ve got news for you, Yank. You’d be a little upset if you didn’t even know your name.”

His eyes turned dark and dangerous. “And I got news for ya’ll. I’m not a Yank and never have been. I was born and raised in the south,” he said with a heavy southern drawl. “Ya’ll got that?”

She nodded, knowing better than to push him any farther.

“Good.”

“And you may stop calling me silly pet names.”

“Fine. Then you tell me what to call you.”

She took hold of her charm. There wasn’t much of a choice. “Call me Ana.”

He stared at her. “Okay, Ana it is. Now, let’s get some breakfast.”

“Is that all you think about, food?”

He cocked his eyebrow and she caught a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. She felt that strange feeling again.

“Believe me, I think about other things,” he said in a husky voice. “But my stomach has been talking to me since before sunrise.”

He tugged at her arm. “Come on, it’s your turn to cook.”

She resisted. “And I explained to you before that I don’t know how. Besides, you seem very capable of doing the job.”

“Well, capable or not, I’m tired of doing it. Your turn.” He got her off the bed and into the other room. “If you need to make a trip to the facilities, you better be quick. I’m hungry.”

Ana grumbled the whole time she put on her rainwear. She purposely took her time, but that didn’t seem to change Jake’s mood. When she returned to the cabin, he was leaning against the counter, waiting for her.

“You could have started without me. I’m not very hungry.”

“Too bad, you need to eat and so do I. So don’t think you’re getting out of cooking. Since you seem to be recovered, we’re going to share the chores.”

“Maybe I should rest one more day, because of my head.” She touched the bandage.

He paused, looking concerned. “You said it didn’t hurt. Look, if you aren’t feeling well, then go back to bed.”

Here was her chance to get out of cooking, but something inside wouldn’t let her lie. Besides, she’d be bored if she had to spend the day in bed.

“No, my health is fine,” she said.

“Good.” He led her over to the woodstove. Using a metal poker, he removed the round plate and exposed the fire below. After adding some more kindling, he replaced the cover.

“This baby is a little tricky, but when she gets going the place heats up fast.”

Ana followed Jake’s instructions. The food was simple. He had cooked her eggs in the past along with some ham.

“I have something special I brought along with me from the States.” He held up a large box of pancake mix.

“Isn’t that dessert?”

“Not where I come from,” he said.

He showed her how to stir it all together. That was simple, the hard part came later. The first four pancake attempts she put on the griddle burned. Even Max turned his nose up at her efforts.

“I told you I can’t do this,” she complained.

She wanted to give up, but a persistent Jake wouldn’t let her. “Come on, give it another try,” he encouraged.

Again she poured more batter onto the griddle. Then, with Jake’s hand over hers, guiding the spatula, they scooped up the cake and managed to flip it over and have it land back on the griddle.

“That’s it,” he cheered.

“They aren’t burnt,” she cried happily.

“A perfect golden brown,” he said, then handed her a plate and she slid one cake after another off the griddle.

They sat down at the table with butter and syrup. After Ana watched Jake doctor his cakes, she did the same. She took a big bite.

“Oh, my, these are delicious.” She swallowed and forked up another bite.

“You sure seem to be enjoying your breakfast. For someone who wasn’t hungry, that is.” He took a big bite of his own.

“I didn’t know I was so hungry, or that these would taste so good.”