A Special Man (15 page)

"When do you want to leave?"

"Now," he said abruptly, and slid behind the wheel.

It was the same trip she had made two weeks before, only this time they were driving the other way. Now she didn't feel that everything was on her shoulders. She didn't have to pretend to be strong.

Miles and miles of Interstate IS roadside scenery passed by as Amanda watched-silently, sometimes dozing, sometimes listening to the radio, but rarely talking. She could feel him getting more and more tense with every mile that brought them nearer to Los Angeles.

Daniel didn't even slow down until they reached Las Vegas. Amanda watched the city pass, thinking how different it seemed from the last time she had seen it.

That night, that terrifying night, seemed to have happened to someone else. All the fears she had had, all the doubts, were echoes now. She had lost Danny, but in losing him she had given him back his life.

There were lines of weariness around his eyes when Daniel pulled into the parking lot of a small diner on the western edge of the city. After they had given the waitress their orders, Amanda put her forearms on the Formica table and leaned toward him.

"What if the police can't make Ted tell who paid him? How are you going to be able to go back to work?"

His eyes narrowed and the look in them made her shiver. "I'll find out," he said quietly. "With or without Sutherland." He glanced up. "But I don't want to talk about it now. For just a little while, I want to forget about what's happened. Talk to me about things that happen in the normal world. Tell me why you decided to be a bookkeeper."

"I don't think I ever made a conscious decision ... I mean I didn't spread a dozen careers out in front of me and say, 'I'll take this one.' Dad was a bookkeeper, and he took me to work with him occasionally." She shrugged. "It just always felt right."

"Tell me about your childhood," he ordered.

She frowned. "Daniel, you don't really want to hear all this."

"Yes. Yes, I do," he said firmly. "I want to hear about your Christmases and when you lost your front teeth. I want to hear what boy you had a crush on in the sixth grade."

She felt strange, talking about such trivial things, and began hesitantly. But after a while, after she realized that he really did need to hear the things she was telling him, that it in some way soothed him, she began to relax.

"Then in the first grade, I met Mrs. Appleton," she said, smiling.

"You liked her," he said, studying her face.

They had eaten and were finishing their second cup of coffee.

"I liked her," she confirmed. "I still can't figure out why she didn't call my parents and complain about me. Before we ever met face to face, I had harassed her unmercifully."

He raised one dark brow. "You?"

She laughed. "Me. I could be a brat at times. Instead of an ordinary doorbell, she had a real brass bell on her porch. It fascinated me. Every morning as I walked to school I would detour by her house just to ring her bell., .then I would run." She shook her head. "She must have been over seventy then, and arthritis made her move very slowly. But old age had no reality to a six-year-old." She laughed softly. "Then one

day, sitting on the porch under the bell, I found a cigar box full of crayons... and my name was printed on the top of the box."

He chuckled. "That was a slick move. I think I would have liked your Mrs. Appleton."

"You would have loved her. I did," she said, remembering. "I thought about the crayons all night, then the next afternoon—after school—I went back and rang the bell again. This time I waited. She asked me in just as though she had expected me. In all the time I knew her—she died when I was eighteen—she never once mentioned the bell or those crayons."

He stared at her for a moment. "I wish I had known you then."

She shook her head. "No, you don't."

"Why do you always underestimate yourself?" he asked. "Everyone has faults, but not everyone faces up to them the way you do. That takes real courage."

She laughed. "Now I know you're crazy. I don't have an ounce of courage. The night we left Green-leigh I was shaking so hard I could barely hold on to the steering wheel. I kept saying, 'I can't do this. I can't do this.'"

"But you did it," he said softly. "Courage isn't fearlessness. It's not giving in to the fear."

She glanced down at her cup in embarrassment. "I don't know about that," she said, then raised her eyes.

Suddenly she broke off, drawing in a sharp breath. "Daniel," she whispered, staring in horror at the doorway as two policemen walked into the diner.

"Don't panic," he said, taking in the situation at a single glance. "They're not looking for us. They're simply taking a coffee break." The two men had sat down at the counter and were now laughing and talking with the waitress. "We're leaving now, Amanda, but we're not in a hurry. We've simply finished our meal. Right?"

She nodded jerkily and stood when he did. Her legs felt like rubber and she couldn't understand how they could carry her all the way across the room. But they did, and minutes later she and Daniel were once more on their way to Los Angeles.

It was early in the morning when Daniel sat in a chair in a small motel room, watching Amanda as she slept. Her dark hair was spread out over the pillow. There had been no question of separate rooms when they had checked in. Maybe she didn't like what was between them, but she had accepted it.

The room was full of echoes, he thought as he leaned his head back. Echoes of their lovemaking. Echoes of the taste of her flesh, the feel of her body.

He stood and moved to the bed to stare down at her. Why did he get the panicky feeling, the fight-or-flight sensation, when he looked at her? Why, suddenly, did he want to turn around and go back to the cabin?

Chapter Sixteen

Amanda awoke slowly. She didn't open her eyes at once hut merely lay there. She could feel Daniel's warmth beside her and wanted it to last a little while longer.

When she felt him move, she raised her eyelids reluctantly. His head was next to hers on the pillow, so near she could see the flecks of gray in his eyes. The look in those eyes burned through her, branding her with his heat.

She didn't even know him, she thought in amazement. She didn't know him, and yet they were bound inextricably.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, framing her face, never taking his eyes from hers. "In a few hours, we'll be in Los Angeles," he whispered frantically, his tongue plunging deep into the seductive depths of her mouth.

He entered her with a desperation that told her it could be no other way. The fiery sweetness filled her, taking her to a different, more basic level. Nothing mattered except that she reach that special place. The place she could reach only with Daniel.

Then suddenly, with overpowering strength, he took her there and their tightly clasped bodies shuddered together in prolonged ecstasy.

When the world stopped whirling around her, Amanda opened her eyes and glanced at him. His eyes remained closed, but as though he sensed her gaze on him, he whispered huskily, "Amanda, I've never— I can't explain it. It's the most incredible thing I've ever experienced in my life."

"I know," she said softly. And she did. She knew just exactly what he meant. What happened between them when they made love was beyond explanation. The future was a closed book and she had no way of knowing what would happen for the rest of her life. One thing she was sure of—this thing between them was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. It was something she would never experience with another man, because it could only happen between the two of them.

Two hours later, in a booth in the café attached to the motel, they sat across the table from each other, as far as the world was concerned an ordinary couple. Again their relationship had undergone a subtle change. Daniel had allowed her to get a glimpse of the man he really was.

"Would you or your wife like orange juice, sir?" the waitress asked, staring at her pad.

When she left, Daniel glanced across at Amanda, a strange gleam in his green eyes. "Do we look so much like an old married couple? Surely the honeymoon couldn't be over after only two weeks."

Amanda drew in a sharp breath. How could she have forgotten she was married to this man? But as incredible as it seemed, she had. Even in Las Vegas, when memories of the night they were married were so strong, she hadn't connected those memories to Daniel. With all the turmoil, with all the revelations of the past two weeks, she had simply overlooked it. Or had she purposely put it from her mind?

"What's wrong?" he asked, some of the stiffness returning to his voice.

She shook her head helplessly. "I didn't foresee any of this happening when I took us to that chapel in Las Vegas." She ran her finger around the rim of the water glass, staring at it with intense concentration. Inhaling deeply, she glanced up. "I suppose since you weren't responsible for your actions, the marriage is void. It should be easy to get an annulment, don't you think?"

He glanced away from her and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. After a moment he met her eyes. "It might have been easy in the beginning, but I'm afraid I wasn't mentally incapacitated when we made love this morning... or last night or the night before." His smile was slightly mocking. "That might make a difference."

Idly. "It win all be over." Moving his head, he brushed his lips across hers. "This time, don't make me feel like I'm taking something from you. Give it to me freely, Amanda. And just as freely, take what I have to give."

Again his lips found hers, and she closed her eyes, trying to absorb the feeling. There was urgency in the kiss, but only a hint of the desperation of the night before. That desperation had puzzled her, still puzzled her.

His lips moved to the corner of her mouth, then down to the nape of her neck. "Say yes, Amanda," he whispered against her throat, the words almost a moan.

"Yes," she said hoarsely, clutching his shoulders. "Yes and yes and yes."

Wrapping his arms around her, he crushed her body to his and she could feel his heart pounding. The taste of him, the feel of him, had consumed her for what seemed like forever. His hungry mouth on hers triggered a wildly explosive response. She clasped his neck, defying him to leave her, and met the warm moistness of his mouth with her tongue.

She heard and felt his gasp of surprise at her response, and then he groaned, an agonized sound, and pulled her beneath him in an exquisitely intimate, thoroughly possessive embrace.

Lifting his lips from hers, he sought the warm flesh of her throat. A quivering tension was building inside her and when he sought her breasts, teasing the tips with his tongue, she was breathing in frantic gasps. With closed eyes, he brought one hand up to cup the fullness, urging it closer to his mouth. His hands felt electrically charged, as though all the desire in him were concentrated in the tips of his fingers.

The pagan pleasure visible in his strong face was the most blatantly erotic thing she had ever seen. She clutched wildly at him, reveling in the feel of his hair-roughened chest and thighs pressing against her softness. She clung to him, arching her hips convulsively, entwining her legs with his as though she would pull him into her body.

A stick sheen of perspiration covered them both, brought by the frenzy of their writhing bodies. Clasping her buttocks with his large hands, he slid downward, pressing his face into her belly, trying to merge with her softness.

She caught her breath in a startled gasp as she felt his hot breath on the throbbing place between her thighs, becoming one with the inferno he had already built there.

Sounds penetrated her pleasure-drugged mind. Husky, animal sounds. Somehow she realized that the sounds came from her own throat.

The feeling of being completely immersed in tactile sensation was mind-numbing, absorbing her completely. She moved her hand over his thigh, exhaling a soft, moaning breath when she found his pulsating strength.

The effect on Daniel was explosive. He moved swiftly, powerfully, and suddenly she was beneath him, feeling the hard length of his body against the eager softness of hers. His mouth devoured hers

Amanda clenched her fists in her lap. Did he regret having made love to her? she wondered as she stared at his stony features. As usual, she found no clue there. But she couldn't believe he regretted it. The sensations had been too strong to be one-sided.

When their breakfasts arrived, they both merely sat pushing the food around on the plates. With one swift movement, Daniel pushed his aside and stood. "Let's go," he said abruptly.

One step forward and three steps back, she thought as she stared out the window of the car. What did he want from her? At times she thought she caught glimpses of the lonely boy he must have been, but then before she could be sure, he shut her out, pushing her away violently. She was beginning to think that no mortal would ever truly know Daniel Phillips; no one would know the person he was beneath the rock-hard facade.

It was early afternoon when they reached Los Angeles at last, and the traffic, as always, was frantic. Once they were in the city, Amanda lost track of the turns they made. She only knew for sure that they eventually came to a hilly section where elaborately landscaped mansions lined the streets.

Suddenly, Daniel made a U-turn and drove in the opposite direction. "What's wrong?" she asked in concern.

"I need time to think," he said stiffly as he pulled
the car over to the side of the street and parked. "Kyle
will want to call the police as soon as we get to the
house."

She nodded in confusion. "Of course he will. I thought that was what you wanted. He'll be able to confirm that you're all right."

He was broodingly silent for a long time, then he said, "All afternoon I've been thinking about the men who work for me. I said there were some who were after power, but what I didn't say was that regardless of their ambition or lack of it, I only have men I respect working for me." He glanced at her. "I was so taken up with discovering who it was and having him put away that I didn't stop to really think. The reality is finally hitting me. One of those men... one of the men I respect tried to kill me." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know if I want to know who did it."

She felt her heart swell with compassion. "Daniel," she said softly. "I know it's not going to be easy. But it's got to be done. You can't think about what you want now. You can only think about what's right. Ted Sutherland and the man who paid him have to be stopped—that's the bottom line."

With his arms wrapped around the steering wheel, he leaned his forehead against it. Then he inhaled slowly and leaned back in the seat. "Yes, I know H. I guess I just needed to hear it said aloud." He glanced at her. "Are you ready for the final act?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said, her smile slightly wry.

They covered the same ground they had covered before, and glancing at Daniel, she found his face rigid and knew they were getting close. Now that it was finally over, he should be relieved. But she knew he was anticipating the final scene with the police and was bracing himself to show no emotion. Emotion still wasn't allowed, she thought sadly.

When he pulled over to the side of the street and parked, she glanced around. She tried to see through the trees to the house beyond, but they were too thick.

"Is this it?" she asked quietly.

"It's a block down, across the street." Intercepting her questioning glance, he said, "The police may be watching the house."

She nodded and stepped from the car when he did. There was no question of her staying behind. It was as though he had finally accepted the fact that she was in it until the very end.

They had gone not quite a block, when he put his arm around her waist and bent his head close, as though they were engaged in a conversation. His eyes were trained on something she couldn't see.

"What is it?" she whispered.

He jerked his head slightly toward the end of the block. A black-and-white patrol car was headed toward them. Amanda stiffened automatically.

"Just keep walking," he said calmly.

As soon as the police car passed them, Daniel stopped and turned slightly, watching it swing into a driveway.

"Your house?" she asked.

He nodded. "I want to get closer, but we'll have to be careful. I haven't come this far to be grabbed at the last minute by the police."

"I don't really understand," she said as they crossed the street. "I know I don't relish having to explain why I kidnapped you from Greenleigh, but surely you're going to the police to tell them about Ted?"

"Oh, I'm definitely going to the police, but only after I've contacted the district attorney. The word is out that I'm nuts. I'll just bet that Sutherland has convinced the police that it's urgent, that he be the first one to see me... so he can give me my 'medication,' of course."

She stumbled slightly as the thought shook her. "You're right," she whispered hoarsely. "That's just what he would do. Then you would be in no shape to tell anyone anything."

"No," he murmured, staring down at her. "Because then I would be Danny."

For a moment she simply stared in confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Before she could even react, he took her arm in a bruising grip and led her to a flowering bush, which hid them but gave them a clear view of the house. It was white and modern and elegant, with clean lines and no pretense. Daniel stared at it as though it were a place he had heard about but had never seen.

"My father built it for my mother," he said softly. "It's strange, but I feel as though I don't belong here anymore. It's not the kind of house I would choose. I just stayed here because it wasn't important enough to move. I think I'd like a house on the beach—something simple, something that really feels like a home."

Amanda had the feeling he had forgotten her presence entirely and even the presence of the policemen. The police car had stopped in the curving driveway, and now two policemen emerged. Before they reached the front entrance, the door opened and a man stepped out to meet them.

When she felt Daniel stiffen beside her, she moved to get a better look at the man, but he stood in the shadow of a large palm. He seemed to be discussing something with the policemen, but they were too far away for their words to be heard. After a few minutes, the two policemen returned to their waiting car.

Amanda followed it with her eyes as it turned onto the street and went in the opposite direction from which it had come. After a moment, she turned back to look at the house. The man was standing in the center of the dive, staring at the street.

When he turned his head in their direction, Amanda caught her breath sharply.

"That's Kyle," Daniel said quietly, moving away from the bush.

Reaching out, she caught at his arm. "No, wait," she said urgently.

He turned back to stare at her. "What's wrong?"

"He's wrong," she said, nodding toward the man in the driveway, the man with an artful curl on his forehead and strange, pale eyebrows.