Chapter Eight

Her heart quickened as her body responded to being in his arms, the scent and feel of him teasing her memory. Taunting her with flashes of the two of them, naked as jaybirds, sweating and panting and—

She pulled back, stunned by the images. Even more stunned by the wanton desire she’d felt. But could she trust any of it? She looked at him, intensely aware just how dangerous this man could be if her instincts were wrong about him.

“I’m ready to go,” she said, the break in her voice betraying her.

“Good,” he said, but didn’t move as he reached to thumb a tear from her cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against her skin, both comforting and disturbing.

His look told of an intimacy between them that frightened—and fascinated—her. Her heart drummed, her pulse a roar in her ears as his gaze moved slowly, deliberately to her lips.

He was going to kiss her! The thought sent a bolt of panic through her. Panic. And a stirring inside her that made her weak. She stared, hypnotized as his full, sensual mouth hovered only a breath over hers, afraid he would kiss her, afraid he wouldn’t.

She waited, time suspended, her heart pounding as if to escape her chest. Would his kiss ignite that passion? Would it prove she was the woman he’d told her she’d been? The passionate, loving, blissfully satisfied woman she yearned to be? But mostly, would his kiss prove that he was telling her the truth, not only about him, but them?

Or would it only confirm that it had all been a lie, including a passion they had never shared.

His gaze rose again to her eyes and she knew. He wasn’t going to kiss her. She felt a stab of disappointment and turned away, groping for her suitcase.

His hand brushed hers as he reached around her to take the case from her. She thought she felt a tremor course through him as they touched.

“Come on,” he said, his voice as rough as his thumb had been. He dragged the suitcase from the bed and carried it into the living room.

Shaken and weak, her blood a dull thrum in her ears, she remembered her cosmetic case in the bathroom and went to get it, needing a few moments to herself.

When she came back out, he had the suitcase and the painting by the door. The broken glass was all cleared up.

The phone rang. Her gaze sprang to his. “Should I answer it?” she asked in a whisper, the apartment suddenly too quiet, the ringing too loud.

He seemed to hesitate. “Do you have caller ID?”

She nodded and stepped into the studio. “It’s Inez.”

“Wait.” The phone rang again. “Do you have an extension?” he asked so close behind her he startled her.

“In the bedroom.”

She let it ring once more, then picked up, watching through the bedroom door as he did the same. “Hello?” Her voice sounded strange even to her.

“Holly?” Inez demanded in a tone that belied her years. “What’s wrong?”

She wanted to laugh. Everything was wrong. Inez, of all people, should know that. But Inez put anything unpleasant from her mind, ordering the world to be the way she wanted it, come hell or high water.

That rankled Holly and shocked her. She usually had more patience with Inez. And yet part of her wondered why it hadn’t rankled long before now.

“What could be wrong?” she asked unable to hide the sarcasm, which, of course, was wasted on Inez.

“You sound…strange.”

She felt strange.

Slade gave her a warning look.

“I must have dozed off,” she improvised.

He nodded his approval.

“I was worried about you,” Inez said. Holly heard the clear, sharp tap of the elderly woman’s cane on stone. “I was concerned that you might have gone off on another one of your…escapades.”

Escapades? Was she referring to the pregnancy? Or the loss of the baby? Or was the “escapade” the hiring of Slade Rawlins? She felt a hot coal of resentment burning deep in her as she looked over at Slade. Why had she put up with Inez’s interference in her life for so long?

“I want to talk to you about the private detective you hired,” Inez said.

“This really isn’t a good time,” Holly said.

Inez continued as if she hadn’t heard. Or didn’t care. “I know this last year has been hard on you, losing Allan, then the baby.”

“The baby had nothing to do with Allan,” she heard herself say. “Or you.” She’d never talked to Inez like this and she heard the shock in the older woman’s tone.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” Holly said, backing off just as quickly, just as she’d always done. Only this time it had been a sudden fear that had stopped her. A fear that upsetting Inez was…dangerous. Where had that come from?

She met Slade’s gaze. He was frowning, watching her intently.

“Of course you’re tired,” Inez agreed, sounding wary. “You’re just distraught. You always are when you do something foolish. I have tried to weather these episodes with you, dear, but this last one…. I know you haven’t been yourself and I try to make allowances for you. Obviously, dear Allan’s death hit you much harder than even you want to admit. That really is when this all started.”

No, Holly thought. It all started about the time she met Allan. And Inez.

“But hiring a private investigator,” Inez was saying. “It’s so…common and…seedy.”

Holly started to speak but Inez cut her off.

“Let’s not discuss it further. It will only upset you to realize you’ve had yet another one of those embarrassing and tragic lapses in judgment. You’re blaming yourself for the death of that baby, and Lord knows the guilt over that unfortunate pregnancy had to have contributed to the stillbirth. How could it not? But hiring a detective…?”

Holly thought she’d scream if she heard another word. Her head ached and she felt sick to her stomach. “Hiring Slade Rawlins wasn’t a mistake.” She didn’t sound convincing even to her own ears, and she didn’t dare look at Slade.

“There is no need to try to justify it,” Inez said. “We all have made mistakes. Certainly none as extraordinary as yours,” she added with a sniff, “but still, just look at the decisions you’ve made since Allan’s death. They speak for themselves. I know Dr. Parris discussed your guilt over Allan’s death with you at the sanitarium.”

Holly shot a look at Slade again, embarrassed. Inez seemed intent on reminding her of the sanitarium and her mental instability, but now she was insinuating that Holly was responsible for Allan’s death. Hadn’t Slade already questioned the same thing?

“Dr. Parris never said anything to me about my having guilt over Allan’s death,” she said defensively.

Silence. “I was there on several occasions during your sessions when he discussed this very thing with you, Holly. Are you telling me you don’t…remember?”

Panic raced through her, making her limbs weak with fear. She gripped the phone tighter, her hand trembling. That wasn’t possible. She would have remembered. Or would she have?

Even more panicked, she suddenly realized that she couldn’t remember any sessions with Dr. Parris when Inez had been there.

“Holly?” Inez asked. She sounded too cheerful as if she had Holly right where she wanted her. Scared. Unsure. Beaten back. Holly was shocked even to think it. Inez was her only family now.

A bubble of hope floated up from inside her as a clear, strong thought surfaced: Dr. Parris had seen her during these blanks in her memory. A sense of relief swept over her. First Slade. And now Dr. Parris. Only, Dr. Parris was a trained psychiatrist. He could make sense of this.

“Holly, are you still there?”

“Yes,” she finally managed to say. She couldn’t wait to tell Slade about Dr. Parris, about her lack of memory of the sessions with Inez and what it might mean.

“I had just forgotten those sessions with you and Dr. Parris,” she lied, not sure why.

Inez was silent for a moment. “You mustn’t castigate yourself. Once you’re well… In the meantime, I’ve taken care of it. I’ll have my lawyer pay off that private detective so he won’t be bothering you anymore and I’ve spoken with Dr. O’Brien. He agrees rest is probably the best thing for you now especially since—”

“Dr. O’Brien?”

“Yes, he feels he can be much more beneficial to you than Dr. Parris. You need help, Holly, and please don’t argue—”

“I think you’re right,” Holly interrupted.

“You do?!”

Even from this distance she could see the tightening of the muscles in Slade’s jaw, the hard anger in his gaze and his manner. He, too, seemed to be clutching the phone.

“Yes,” Holly said, suddenly feeling better. Her head still ached and her stomach was still upset, but her mind felt clearer than it had in a long time.

“Well, that’s good that you agree.” Inez sounded off balance, even a little disappointed, as if she’d expected a fight and had been ready for it. “You don’t even have to recommit yourself since your old commitment papers are still in force. I think you should return to Evergreen at once. For your own good. Dr. O’Brien said he would make arrangements to have you picked up tonight.”

Slade was shaking his head.

“I’m really too tired tonight,” Holly said.

“That’s exactly why you need to—”

“Why don’t I call you in the morning?” Holly said, getting a nod from Slade. “I just want to go to bed now.”

“You’re sure?” Inez said, an edge to her voice. She wasn’t pleased. “You are taking your pills, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, shooting a glanced at Slade. He had that hard angry expression on his face again. Was he right about the pills?

“They’ve made me very drowsy for some reason,” she said. She softened her tone. “I really do appreciate your concern, and I think you’re right about me needing help.”

Inez seemed hesitant to hang up as if not convinced. “Well, then, get a good night’s sleep. I’ll talk to you first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.” She hung up, feeling worn out by the encounter with her sister-in-law, and she realized it was always like this. So much easier to give in to Inez than to fight her. Just as it had been with Allan.

Only this time, she hadn’t given in. The thought buoyed her spirits.

“No wonder you think someone has been manipulating you,” Slade said as he came into the living room. “But what the hell was that about recommitting yourself?”

“I agreed I needed help—not recommitting. I remembered something,” she said excitedly. “When Inez was talking about Dr. Parris and Evergreen I realized I couldn’t recall any discussions I had with him while Inez was there.”

Slade lifted a brow. “That’s a memory?”

“Don’t you see, I must have been in one of my…blanks. But that means Dr. Parris would have observed this. He might know what was wrong with me based on the way I was acting.” She saw Slade’s expression. “I know what you’re thinking. That I have some sort of personality disorder.” It certainly sounded as though that was the case to her.

“You don’t have a split personality,” he said, sounding more convinced than she had expected. “I don’t know much about personality disorders, I’ll admit. And you’re different from the Holly Barrows I knew this time last year. But not that much different. In fact, you seem to be becoming more and more like her all the time. With the kind of stress you’ve been under, I think it would be just the opposite. Once all your memory returns—” He broke off and shrugged, his gaze gliding over her face as gentle and warm as a caress.

She felt a rush of gratitude. Whether he was right or not, he was trying to reassure her and she appreciated that more than he could know.

And she did feel…different. Stronger. Just standing up to Inez— “Dr. Parris should be able to help us,” she said again, hoping it were true.

He smiled at her, making her wonder if he thought her naive. “Maybe he does have some answers,” he agreed, perhaps a little too easily. “Or this Dr. O’Brien your sister-in-law was so anxious for you to see might have.”

She watched him walk to the door and pick up her suitcase and the painting, his words echoing in her ears.

“Let’s get out of here.” He seemed even more anxious to get away from her apartment now. Because of Inez’s call? Was he worried Inez and Dr. O’Brien wouldn’t wait until morning to come get her?

She realized why Slade had wanted her to take the call. He suspected Inez was somehow involved. And now, it seemed, he was even more suspicious.

Holly quickly followed after him, not so sure he wasn’t right. Just before he turned out the light, the glare caught on her painting, highlighting the monsters huddled at the end of the bed. She had a flash of realization so strong it stunned her. Not a memory. But a feeling. Almost a warning. Something had been controlling her life. Something much more malevolent than Inez Wellington.

But the question was: Was it still in control?