Familiar Strangers (12 page)

“I can’t exactly put my finger on what disturbs me the most about him, but I know he’s hiding something.” Regin leaned against the boarded window as she thought of her mysterious host. She felt the secret he kept down in her gut and her gut had never been wrong. She simply had to bide her time, ask the questions he expected, and watch every move he made because sooner or later he would slip. Then she’d know why her gut was screaming with unease whenever she thought of him.
Regin ran her hands through her already mussed hair. “What do I want from him anyway?” she asked the dog. Receiving no reply, she continued on. “Or should I be asking what he wants from me? Besides sex.”

She couldn’t lie to herself; his kiss had melted the soles of her shoes and sent her body into nuclear meltdown. No man had ever kissed her like that. She didn’t know how to describe the way he devoured her mouth. It was more than the mere brushing of lips. She had felt absorbed into him. Something within her had dissolved, flowed from her to him and back again.

“What’s even more terrifying was the feeling of completeness. Like he was the missing piece of me that I’ve been searching for, but never knew,” she glared at her reflection in the dresser mirror. “And I don’t like that feeling,” she told herself firmly. “It gives him too much power over me and he’s got too much as it is right now.”

Her head shook in denial. It was nothing more than sex—plain, simple, old-fashioned lust. It happened to everyone at some time or another. It was just bad luck her time happened to be when she met Galen. When she got off the island, she’d take the first man who set the same sparks off and kidnap him for at least a week.

She had to be losing her mind. Maybe the heat from his kiss caused an overload on her brain cells? Or had they felt the heat of his body and simply oozed out her ears? She didn’t believe in soul mates. Of someone being born to love only you. It was an absurd notion. No one with an ounce of intelligence believed in that bullshit. Unfortunately her intelligence was up for grabs at the moment. All because a man had kissed her.

What was it about him? She’d seen better- looking men before, dated a few of them, but none had ever affected her the way Galen did.

His eyes were always so carefully blank, his expression giving nothing away except that first night. Instead of his normal hardened expression, his eyes had been filled with heat, fury, and something that had been masked too quickly for her to grasp. She had felt some weird connection and nerves of her own. She had been flooded with fear. Instinct ordered her to run and put as many miles as possible between them.

Instead she ended up with him as her guide on a storm beaten island, and she’d never once thought to question how they ended up there. For herself, she knew embarrassment caused her to react so out of character and fiercely to a stranger. She didn’t know what excuse he might have given if he’d had one. He might not even remember seeing her that night.

His dark brooding looks, rock hard body, and don’t give a damn attitude would attract women like bees to honey. He could have been with a woman that night. She hadn’t stayed around long enough to find out. “More than likely, he’s been on a date with some six-foot stacked blonde with hot mamma Barbie lipstick and scrap of spandex for a dress. Her name had to be something sweet or cute like Candy or Muffy,” she mumbled to herself, not stopping to wonder at the sudden pain that the idea of Galen with other women caused her. “She’d work in uniform as a dental assistant or doing nothing but looking cute and perky. With a short skirt or a name tag that said, ‘Hi my name’s DO-ME.’

“Argh. I’m driving myself out of what’s left of my mind. Face the facts,” she told herself harshly, “he doesn’t remember. Now get over it, him and the kiss.”

She should be able to brush it off, joke about it, and then forget it. It was the perfect plan and she would do it... as soon as she stopped thinking about his taste, feel, heat, and touch; as soon as she stopped wanting to feel everything with him all over again.

If nothing else, her next book could be about how to survive a full-scale hurricane. That is if she did survive this one.

A small cracking sound was the only noise Regin heard as she continued to pace the length of the spacious bedroom. Without any additional warning, the large bay windows heaved under the intense wind pressure and busted open. Glass shards and wooden pieces hurtled though the room as Regin tried to duck the large chunk of wood flying toward her. She felt the smack at the back of her head. The carpet rushed up to meet her and the light glittering off the thousands of shards of glass littering the floor was the last thing she saw.

****


The fog seeped slowly off the ground, giving the campus an eerie abandoned look. Regin hurried along the path. She knew it wasn’t safe. There was danger lurking in the shadows— stalking her. Waiting, always waiting for her. She picked up the pace until she ran, but could still feel the force behind her and knew it was a matter of time before he caught her again. Before he put that hideous ribbon around her neck and stole the very breath from her body.

Then it was happening, he was there whispering in her ear; crude, vicious statements meant to frighten her even more. She twisted in his arms, desperately trying to get away but knowing she wouldn’t. He would kill her this time. The Bow-Tie Strangler would have his revenge.
As quickly as it started, the dream moved.

Richly dressed people in unusual costumes filled a huge elegant ballroom surrounded her. Looking down, she saw her clothes matched the strangers around her. She must be at a masquerade ball.

The music, atmosphere, and people drowned her in sensations.

Where was he? He’d promised to meet her here a quarter of an hour ago. What if something had gone wrong? What if he changed his mind and no longer wanted her? What if all those people were right and his only interest was in her money?

She forced herself to cut off those thoughts. She knew him and he loved her. He loved her more than money and property. They would make their own lives and fortune together without help from anyone.

She paced the alcove she’d hidden in earlier while awaiting his arrival. It wasn’t like him to be late. But then he’d never planned an elopement before, either. She smiled at the thought. Yes, it must be the wedding plans causing his delay. Shivers of delight raced down her body. By this time tomorrow, she thought, I will be Mrs. Colin Devereaux.

“Begging your pardon, my lady, but this note just come for you. Rather fancy gent begged me to make sure it was handed to no other than yourself.” A servant handed the paper, bobbed a courtesy, and rushed out as quickly as she’d come.

Hurriedly she opened the note, scanned the contents, and felt her heart leap with joy.

My darling, everything has been arranged. Meet me at the slave’s church at half past the hour. Bring nothing with you. I will provide whatever you need. Tonight, you shall be mine.

Forever Yours C.D
.

She quickly crumpled the note in her hand, not stopping to wonder why he’d changed their plans. All she cared about was that he was waiting for her. He didn’t care if she brought nothing. They would be happy together in his little cottage on the island. One day they would have a huge house filled with love, laughter, and children.

Careful to draw no attention to herself, she slipped quietly out the terrace doors and rushed to the chapel where she would become his wife and live happily ever after.

So intent on her thoughts and destination, she didn’t notice the silent figure following her until it was too late and she was beyond the safety of the house. She could hear his footsteps behind her gaining every second.

She lifted her heavy skirts, trying to maneuver around them but knowing it was useless. She screamed her lover’s name into the night. There was no answer. Where could he be?

There in the circle of the light, she could see his broad shoulders but something was wrong. He had his arms around something.

It couldn’t be, but it was. The man she had given her heart, soul, and body to was eagerly embracing another woman. This could not be happening. He loved her. Colin promised they would be together forever. Without his love, she had nothing left to fight for.

Her future didn’t matter. Let Rupert make her his wife. Her heart wouldn’t survive the betrayal to heal and love another. Colin had killed her as surely as if he had plunged a knife into her chest. Strong arms reached out from behind and clasped her to a firm chest. One arm held her tightly pinned while the other wrapped a soft velvet ribbon around her neck. She could feel the material cutting into her skin, blocking off her air.


The hideous voice whispered wetly in her ear.

“Do you see how he’s used you? He’s not coming to save you. He’ll never come because he doesn’t want you and never has. It’s only your money he was after.”

The words ricocheted in her head. He didn’t want her. He wanted the money. He wasn’t coming. He never wanted her. He never wanted her. He had never wanted...

His arms around another woman’s body, those warm velvet lips tasting another woman’s lips.

“Colin.” Her heart screamed in denial.

Galen took the stairs three at a time at the sound of smashing glass. He’d been downstairs in the library watching the storm move in. He marveled that something so beautiful and mysterious could be so deadly at the same time.

He’d been grateful for the distraction. The watching, tracking, and waiting had kept his mind off the woman pacing up stairs. He immersed himself in the lightning, wind, and rain until he heard that sound. The soft groan of wood giving way to the force of the wind, an instant before the shattering of glass reached his ears. His feet barely touched the first step when he heard her scream.

He didn’t notice the steps that flew beneath his feet, his stammering heart, or oxygen deprived lungs. He was conscience only of the gut wrenching fear that tore through his chest. The panic grew stronger when he realized he could no longer hear Regin’s screams.

Galen didn’t pause at the landing and almost slid into the bathroom. He caught himself in time to grasp the railing and swung to the right. Regin’s door was closed and locked. One quick hard kick and the wood splintered beneath his heavy boot. He rushed into the storm-destroyed room and searched desperately to find her.

Regin was on her stomach, hands over her head, not moving. Galen’s fear crazed mind couldn’t see her breathe. It was hard to tell with the rain continuing to pour through the open windows. The wind swirled the sheets and curtains.

Galen silently prayed at the sight of Regin covered from the back of her head to her bare toes in water mixed with blood.

“Regin.” His voice was lost in the wind rushing through the smashed windows. Bloody water stained her clothes where the glass had cut through. From the amount of blood he could see, he knew she wasn’t in danger of dying. It was her lack of consciousness that had his heart kicking in his chest.

Gently Galen brushed as much glass from Regin’s back as possible. Not caring about the blood welling up on his own hands while he methodically swiped her clean. The more glass he removed, the more blood flowed but he wasn’t going to allow himself to panic when every minute might count. Satisfied he’d removed as much of the glass as possible, he lightly turned her over and cringed to see blood flowing freely down her face.

Galen softly tapped her cheek and whispered, “Regin open your eyes for me, baby. I need you to look at me,” he pleaded. “One quick look so I know you’re okay.”

She made no sound or movement, but the gentle rise and fall of her chest assured him that she was alive and breathing.

The large egg-shaped lump on her head caused his stomach to twist. She needed to wake and do it fast. If her injuries weren’t serious then he would let her rest and only wake her once every four hours.

Galen’s hand slapped harder against her cheek, rougher with fear. “Damn it, Neff, don’t be such a coward. A little water and wind never killed anybody.”
And he prayed she wouldn’t make a liar out tightened as he picked her limp body up and maneuvered the stairs while he murmured soft assurances against her hair.

He placed Regin on the soft leather sofa in the living room and reached for a blanket as Regin shot up, eyes closed, breath heavy. Galen thought that her mind was trapped upstairs with the glass and wood flying at her, but the hard cold voice reaching his ears held no fear only dark determination and deep fury. He was caught off guard as her arm swung up.

“It won’t happen again, you bastard.”

As quickly as it happened, her demeanor changed. She was once again the Regin Galen was familiar with.

As he raised his hand to smack her again, her eyes slit open. “Hit me again, Matthews, and I’ll beat the hell out of you.”

Galen was thrilled she was awake and speaking. He clutched her to his chest, grateful to feel her squirming against him. It wasn’t until she moaned that he realized how much pain he caused her. His arms dropped and she landed with a thud facing the floor once again.

“Some hero you’d make,” she complained.

A wide grin split his normally somber face. “Honey, just show me a dragon to slay or a demon to vanquish.”

Regin couldn’t seem to manage anything more than a weak frown. He watched her mentally assess her body’s damage. Whatever conclusion she reached hadn’t made her happy. “Just give me some drugs and the head of the person who did this to me.”

Galen whipped around to face her. “What are you talking about?” His heart sped up, but it was the only indication his body revealed of nerves.

“Galen, right now my head is pounding in rhythm with a fast salsa and my stomach is doing its best too keep up the swirling moves. Every time I try taking deep breaths to slow the dance down, the world goes whoops-a-daisy,” she frowned at him, her expression showing she thought her injuries were somehow his fault. “I want drugs, very strong ones, the ones people shoot elephants with.” She stopped to take another deep breath, trying hard not to let the pain show on her face before continuing. “Next, I want the severed body parts of whoever used the baseball bat on my head and back.”

Galen kept his mouth shut, knowing it was better to saying nothing than end up with both his feet lodged between his teeth.

“It doesn’t have to be neat,” she assured, wincing at each word spoken. “Just a severed finger, toe, ear, belly button—nothing dramatic.”

He wanted to laugh. He did nothing but stare at the strange bloodthirsty woman bleeding on his grandfather’s favorite couch. She had to be nuts, he decided. The lump on her head had caused severe brain damage and she’d be dead by morning.

“Let me make sure I understand you.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “You want me to shoot you with an elephant tranquilizer, then bring you the severed body parts of a dead man?” His tone told her how ridiculous he thought her demands were.

One eye slit half way open. He could see her temper brew. “Matthews, don’t try and be a funny man. You don’t have it in you. Just be a good boy and do as I ask.” She lifted a blood-covered hand to shoo him out of the room.

Galen laughed. The woman was unbelievable. She was in the middle of a hurricane, bleeding from small cuts all over her body, and she was still trying to give orders.

“Since you’re not up to snuff, so to speak.” He managed to hide his smile behind a rough cough. “I think I’ll put myself in charge for the time being.”

Slowly, he watched the second eye pry itself open. “I really, really don’t like you.”

Galen’s head shook in amusement. “Well now, that’s a damn shame because I’m beginning to think you’re the best thing since boiled crawfish.” He turned his back and said over his shoulder, letting the humor ring in his voice. “Why don’t you assess the damage? There’s a shower through the door on your right. If you think you can manage.” He was more than willing to provide any help Regin required and knew the thought was written plainly on his face.

Galen didn’t give her the chance to reply. “I have to clean up the mess you left in your room and board the windows back up. Then I’ll come and check on you.”

“Just bring my black bag down,” Regin advised, trying to look threatening but making him want to kiss the pout of her lush lips.

Galen knew where those lips would lead and he quickly retreated before the temptation proved too much.

****


“That man is entirely too cheerful for my

taste,” Regin complained as she gingerly sat up and looked around. Every major part of her body ached. She knew none of the cuts were life threatening, but the man didn’t have to enjoy her pain.

She was in the library Regin guessed, with its rich English hunting style décor. The dark cherry wood desk and credenza blended softly with the hunter green leather sofa and matching curtains.

Carefully she got to her feet, cursing the dizziness that assailed her once she straightened. If she looked as bad as she felt, there was no way Galen should have been laughing at her. He should have picked up the phone and dialed 911.

The sight of her torn, blood soaked clothes and scratched, swollen face made her wonder how Galen could have given her any look much less a lecherous one. She looked... She peered closely at her face in the mirror above the marble sink. Well, she looked like a woman who’d battled a hurricane and lost. “Damn, this really isn’t my year,” Regin muttered to her reflection.

With a sigh and many careful maneuvers, she managed to shed what was left of her torn jeans and T-shirt. Regin set the water temperature as hot as she could stand it, knowing the heat would sting but clean the cuts. Galen could get her ice later for the swelling.

Regin bit back a hiss of pain when the pulsing water touched her battered body from all angles at once. “The man lives to torture me,” she decided as she saw the seven showerheads located along the walls. One she had been prepared for, but seven was asking too much out of her abused body.

The mind numbing pain had changed into a dull throb as she rested her wet head against the smooth cold wall. She could feel the various muscles cramp and release in her lower back and legs. She must have put more strain on them than she realized.

The warmth of the shower revitalized her enough to finish bathing, rinse her hair twice to make sure all the glass came out, and reluctantly turn the water off.
She took her first real glimpse of her surroundings while stepping out of the shower. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was the picture of Old World elegance mixed with modern luxury. The sink, shower, and whirlpool were all made out of expensive green and white swirled marble which perfectly matched the marble in the floor.

But the room didn’t fit the master of the house she mused, running her hand along the heated towel rack. It was too quiet and elegant for Galen. His room would be filled with brash and bold colors. His bed would be a huge king with feather soft mattresses that would encourage her body to sink into it when he leaned over pressing hot kisses along her neck and breasts, slowly making his way down to her—

“Need any help?”

Regin’s head slammed back against the door she’d been leaning against, causing an involuntary cry of pain.

Galen immediately pushed open the door. “Have you been too stubborn to ask for help?” When the door pushed in, Regin was flung against the sink she’d admired earlier, making a cracking sound as her hipbone hit and tears surged to her eyes.

Regin saw Galen’s eyes search her body quickly trying to X-ray her with his bare eyes.

“Where does it hurt the most? You need to sit and get your feet up.” Without waiting for a reply, he quickly leaned down placing one arm behind her knees and the other around her back. He swung her easily into his arms and headed for the nearest bed.

“Galen.”
“Hush, Regin, everything will be fine.” He rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “Really, Galen—” she tried again.
“Regin, lie back and shut up. I’ll take care of you. Everything will be fine you’ll see.” She had almost given up hope of ever reaching the bedroom when his foot pushed open the door. “Now the first thing we have to do is clean the cuts and bandage them. Then I’ll bring you up some tea. My mom always drank tea when she was upset, so I think it’s good for your nerves. Then a couple—”

“Galen.”


“I have bandages in the—”
“Galen!” she screamed in his ear as he deposited her on the wide bed.


“What?” His voice roared in frustration. Galen’s eyes dropped down to where Regin lay gazing furiously back at him. Arms crossed and body curled tightly away from him.

“Shit.” He knew exactly why she tried to gain his attention all the way up the stairs.

Regin Neff lay in front of him in all her glorious beauty, naked as the day she was born. Even worse for Galen—she was naked on his damn bed. The same bed that had fostered so many erotic dreams he’d almost come in his sleep. And now, there she was looking exactly like one of his dreams brought to life.

If ever there were a moment for quick thinking, this would it. Come on, man, he thought desperately, you’ve faced terrorists in back alleys without a weapon and weren’t half as afraid as you are now.

But then again, those men hadn’t looked half as deadly as the woman shooting daggers at him. He knew in the way of all men that in times such as these never let her see you sweat.

He raised an eyebrow and said as calmly as his racing heart and heated blood would allow, “Yes?” What the hell had been the question to begin with?

Regin looked up from her position on the bed with a scathing remark ready. But the expression faded from her eyes when she looked up at him. Galen watched her melt. There was no other word for it. “Ah...” He saw she was grasping for words and had to turn her head in order to speak. “If you’d leave the bag, I think I can manage to dress myself.”

Galen shook his head, trying to dislodge the erotic thoughts as they slammed around his brain. He glanced down at his feet, surprised to find her black leather bag there. He must have grabbed it at the same time he grabbed Regin. He didn’t remember. He was doing great to remember to breathe.

He cleared his throat before attempting to speak. “Sure...ah...no problem.” He turned and walked to the door before halting to speak over his shoulder. “There are bandages in the bathroom; use them. Take care of the front and I’ll check for any on your back. Ten minutes,” he ordered and shut the door firmly behind him.

****


Regin simmered as she thought of Galen’s behavior. Look who thinks he’s General Patton? The man had no business giving her orders. She would clean and bandage both sides of her body without his help. Thank you very much.