Chapter Thirteen

Remember.

Remember.

At the sound of Dr. Delaney’s voice, Holly came awake in an instant, but she didn’t move, barely breathed. With her eyes still closed, she tried to remember. Some of last year came to her as if it had never been missing.

But not the birth of her baby. It was just as elusive as it had been before, she realized with aching disappointment.

She started to open her eyes, but stopped at the sound of Delaney’s voice again.

“You probably won’t believe this, but I’m doing you a favor,” Delaney said, off to her left.

She held her breath, wondering who he was talking to, afraid to open her eyes and find out. She realized she was sitting on something hard and cold and damp. From the air around her, she was no longer in the doctor’s warm den and she knew without looking that that was a very bad sign.

“You really made a mess of things this time,” Delaney said.

She could hear him moving around on the concrete floor, the scrape of his soles. He stopped directly in front of her. Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest she thought for sure he would hear it. She waited, afraid he knew she was awake.

“This is the best I can do for you,” Delaney said.

She felt more than heard something drop beside her. Whatever it was hardly made a sound when it hit, but kicked up the cool, damp musty air. She felt her hair move. Her eyes flickered. She tried desperately to breathe slowly and not move. Not blink.

Then she heard him move away. She opened her eyes to slits and peered through her lashes, willing herself not to move another muscle.

She saw Slade sitting directly across from her and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were open. He was staring at her, but it was clear he wasn’t seeing anything! Oh my God! A scream rose up her throat—

Then she saw his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. He was alive. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to dam the tears of relief.

She could hear Delaney off to her left working on something metallic. It clicked as he moved.

Cracking her eyes open a little, she tried to see where she was and what Delaney was doing without moving her head. She and Slade were in a small concrete room with no windows. It would have felt like a basement if it wasn’t for the battery-operated lamp overhead and the massive steel door that Delaney was standing by. In the middle of the door was a mechanism that looked like the lock on a vault. Only the dial was on the inside! And Delaney was turning it.

He stopped, as if sensing her watching, and started to turn in her direction. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to move. Instinctively, she knew he was looking at her, watching her closely. It was all she could do not to hold her breath. Not to twitch.

Her mind raced. She’d seen a place like this before when she was a kid. Panic filled her. It was a bomb shelter—like the one her grandparents had built in the nineteen-fifties. Why would Delaney put them—

She heard the metallic click, click, click and opened her eyes. He was planning to seal them up in here! She frantically looked around for a weapon, seeing only the pile of blankets Delaney had dropped next to her earlier, as she scrambled to her feet and rushed at him.

Dr. Delaney looked back in surprise, his hand on the door.

“No!” She threw herself at him, but he’d seen her coming. He slammed the door. It clanged shut, a deafening, final sound, just as she hit it. “No!” she screamed, her cry echoing in the tiny room.

She pounded on the door, knowing it was senseless. Pressing her palms and her cheek against the cold steel, she listened, thinking she might be able to hear if Delaney was still out there. As if from that, she could determine whether or not he’d ever be back.

She tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t move. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes. No one knew they were down here. No one knew what Dr. Delaney and the rest of them had been doing to her mind for over a year. And no one knew about her baby. Her—and Slade’s—baby girl.

And now Slade was gone into that other world. And she had no idea how to reach him. She’d never felt so alone. Or so defeated.

REMEMBER.

Remember.

Slade woke to a loud clang. He blinked, instantly aware that he was no longer in Dr. Delaney’s den and that he no longer had his weapon.

Remember.

Remember.

He sat up, cobwebs of confusion clouding his thoughts. A voice inside his head kept repeating: remember. And yet he could remember little of what had happened in Delaney’s den.

He blinked again, taking in the concrete room, the steel door and the woman standing in front of it.

“Holly?” he asked, his heart in his throat at just the thought that he might have lost her. Again.

She spun around, her eyes flying open. “Rawlins!” And then she was on the floor and in his arms.

He cupped her head in his hand as she pressed her face to his chest, his arm crushing her to him.

“I thought you were gone.” She was crying, her head against his chest. “I thought I’d lost you the way we’d lost each other last year.”

He rocked her, turning his face up to the heavens, a silent prayer of thanks on his lips. Wherever they were, whatever they were locked inside, however much time they had, they had each other right now.

He lifted her face, wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs, as she stared at him, her eyes wide and dark. She seemed to hold her breath. He imagined that he could hear her heart pounding beneath her breast, but he knew he couldn’t have heard it over his own.

“Holly.” He said her name like a prayer. Like a promise. “Holly.” He gently touched her face, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand, thumbing away her tears, then trailing across the silken skin to her lips, her full, lush lips. She kissed the pad of his thumb, her eyes locking with his.

He felt a stab of desire so sharp it cut to the heart of him. The heat moved through him, a hot lava flow that ignited him. Drawing her onto his lap, he dropped his mouth to hers, opening her, entering her as her lips parted in invitation. He cradled her head in his hands, deepening the kiss, feeling the aroused throb of her pulse through his fingers, the sudden spurred quickness of her breath against his mouth, her small gasp as he drew her lower lip into his mouth, caught it between his teeth.

Her eyes filled with liquid fire, lighting up like stars. Or sparks. He thought his heart would burst from his chest.

“I’ve missed you, Rawlins,” she whispered breathlessly against his mouth. “I’d forgotten how much.”

HOLLY TREMBLED at the look in his eyes. He buried his hand in her hair and pulled her down onto the blankets for his kiss. His mouth, his wonderful mouth, moved from her lips down her throat, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. “Rawlins,” she whispered, feeling an urgency.

He opened her blouse, baring her breasts, his breath warm, as he moved down her, pushing aside her clothing to make way for his mouth as if he too couldn’t bear them being apart another moment. His lips found her breast, provoked her nipple to a hard, pulsing point.

She arched against his mouth, her body melting against him. Then she drew him back up to her. His gaze locked with hers. They needed no words. Only this coupling of bodies, of hearts. A bonding that affirmed life.

She fumbled to free the buttons on his shirt in a desperate demand to feel his warm bare skin against hers. Pushing back the cloth, she flattened her palms again the solid heat of his chest, breathing in the scent of him, the feel of him. He groaned and pulled her down, surrendering to her touch as his mouth took hers again, and they struggled out of their clothing, their lips never parting. She tore at his clothing, needing nothing between them. Needing him.

And then they were naked. Her body melded with his, heat to heat, her skin alive from his touch, wet from his kisses. He lifted his mouth from hers, his gaze connecting with hers, then he entered her, filling her, fulfilling her, finally bringing her home.

SLADE ROLLED HER onto her back on the thick pile of blankets when it was over and looked down into her eyes, a smile on his lips. “You are the most desirable, beautiful, enchanting woman I have ever met.”

She smiled up at him. “Rawlins,” she said with a satisfied sigh, “You don’t get out enough.”

He lay down beside her, holding her in his arms. “I’m just so glad you’re back.”

“Rawlins, we’re locked in a bomb shelter,” she said.

“I see that.” But all he saw was her, her wonderful face and eyes and lips, and her silken body next to his. He took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.

“It appears there’s a timer built into the door.”

“I understand the concept,” he said. He didn’t dare let himself think about the fact that they were trapped, powerless to do anything about their baby or the world outside that steel door. He didn’t know how much time they had. Only that they had it together. He didn’t plan to spend that time worrying about what could have been or losing his mind over something he could do nothing about.

“The door isn’t going to open until that timer goes off,” she said. “And maybe not even then.”

“Uh-huh.” He ran his fingers from her palm up the inside of her arm to her elbow.

“You don’t seem too upset about that.”

“Holly, I’d break down that door for you if I could. Since I can’t…” He spooned her against him as he ran his fingers from her shoulder, down the long slope of her waist and up over her hip. “I spent the last year dreaming about having you in my arms again. Now that I do…I just want to make love to you until that door opens.”

“What if it never opens?” she asked, sounding a little breathless as she turned in his arms to met his gaze.

He grinned. “I think you know the answer to that one.” He drew her to him again.

HE WOKE with a start, not sure at first what had roused him from a sated sleep. The first thing he felt was Holly’s warm body curled in his arms. Before that, he’d thought he’d only been dreaming. But it all came back in a flash and instinctively, he pulled her closer as he looked around to see what had awakened him.

He’d forgotten they were locked in a bomb shelter. He’d even forgotten to worry whether or not there was sufficient air. His plan had been to make love to Holly until hell froze over. Or until they completely ran out of air in this steel-lined concrete box. Or until the door opened.

He sat up.

“What is it?” Holly asked sleepily.

“The door,” he whispered. “It’s open.”