Borrowed Identity. Kasi Blake

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      A smile tilted Wade’s mouth. He stepped out into the cold autumn day, and Kelly stood at the door, watching him go. Halfway to his truck, he bent over. He plucked something from the ground and turned to her, holding it high with a bright smile.

      “I found a penny for my collection.” He began to chant. “Finders keepers. Losers weepers.”

      She forced a smile. Wade’s hobby was finding things that other people lost. He kept them in a box in his room at home, watching over them as if they were actually worth something.

      He waved at her, obviously excited about his find.

      Michael spoke from directly behind her, far too close. His warm breath caressed the back of her neck. She wanted to swat him away like a pesky mosquito. His newfound attitude made her nerves tighten to the point of snapping.

      “What was that all about?”

      “You tell me.” She turned on him like a cornered animal would. “I haven’t seen Wade so upset before. What did you do to him?”

      “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t say a word to him. You were here the whole time.”

      “I wasn’t talking about today.” She put distance between them, choosing to stand near the staircase. “You must have said something or done something when I wasn’t around.”

      His lips compressed into a tight line.

      She added, “I don’t even know you, do I? You’re a stranger to me. Were you pretending to love me these past few months? Was it all an act?”

      He stared at her, his eyes cold chips of dark ice, and she knew he wasn’t going to answer her. He hid behind a stoic expression, not saying a word. He hadn’t been like this before today. Was it possible for a person to overhaul his personality overnight?

      This Michael was like an exposed negative of the original photograph. He walked differently, stalking his prey like a hungry panther. Gone was the amusing swagger. He moved with a purpose now, walking with a quiet grace that was at odds with his big, muscular body. But it didn’t stop at the way he walked. There was the way he held himself, his gestures, the way he spoke. Everything about the man was different.

      It made her want to scream in frustration.

      For the first time since she’d moved into the old house, it seemed too small. His menacing presence devoured the oxygen. What could she do to protect herself against him if he attacked her?

      Michael closed the gap between them with quick and easy strides.

      “Are you afraid of me?” He asked the question with a look of wonder in his eyes. It gave her hope. He was stunned by her reaction, by her need to get away from him.

      “Should I be afraid of you?”

      A harmless smile tilted the corners of his mouth, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Do I make you nervous?”

      “Answering a question with a question is an outdated and impolite way to avoid answering.”

      “You started it,” he said. “How do you feel now?” His fingers stroked the side of her face. “Better?”

      Her skin burned where he touched it, igniting her nerve endings. She realized, too late, that she was in danger of a different kind. Now she wondered what it would be like to kiss him again. Would it be different? Everything else had changed about him. Would his kisses be different, as well?

      She feared she knew the answer already.

      She gently pushed his hand away. “I feel fine.”

      “Then why is your breathing erratic?”

      Kelly swallowed hard. What was wrong with her? Michael hadn’t cared about her scars. Outside of Wade, he had been the one person she could open up to. So why did she feel uneasy with him all of a sudden?

      “It was a rhetorical question,” he said. “I don’t expect an answer.”

      “Good.” She inched her way along the wall, moving sideways past the staircase. “Can you tell me something?”

      “What?” His eyebrow arched.

      “Do you love me, Michael?” she asked.

      There was an obvious hesitation, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer her question.

      “Yes or no!” A voice at the back of her mind screamed at her not to ask. “It’s a simple question.”

      “Sure I do.” He said the words without feeling or depth. He replied as one would to a child in need of humoring.

      I never wanted you. It was a joke. You’re a joke.

      The words shot through her like a bullet, bringing a searing pain with them. Kelly’s hands flew to her temples. Palms pressed hard against the sides of her head, she held it tightly, fearing it would explode. A soft whimper floated to her ears.

      It was her. She was moaning while slowly sliding down the wall.

      Hands enclosed her upper arms and tugged her up again. Her back scraped against the wall behind her as Michael used it to keep her from falling.

      “What’s happening? Talk to me!” he demanded.

      The pain receded, and she gasped for breath. Every thought had been forced from her mind. She couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking at the time the pain had hit, striking like a bolt of lightning out of a pure blue sky.

      Michael held her close to his chest as if she was a precious treasure, and she could feel his heart beating beneath the palm of her hand. She was afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell of the moment. The tension she’d been feeling in his presence was gone now. She felt safe and cherished. She didn’t want to move.

      Kelly rested her head against him. Her equilibrium hadn’t returned yet. A few more easy breaths and she would be fine.

      “Kelly, are you all right? Can you talk to me?”

      She looked up at him. His dark eyes were filled with concern. He couldn’t possibly be faking the emotion. It was too raw, too powerful. Michael really did care about her.

      “What’s wrong with me?” She asked the question in wonder, her mind a mass of confusion.

      “You need to lie down,” he said. “I’ll help you upstairs.”

      She wanted to argue with him. The idea of being in her room filled her with dread, but her vocal cords didn’t cooperate.

      Michael swung her into his arms and carried her. She wanted to fight him, fight her deepening dependence on him, but she rested her head against his hard shoulder. He was a good man, and she was a paranoid dope for suspecting him of being anything less than wonderful.

      The feel of his strong arms holding her close was too good to be real. She could happily close her eyes and melt into him. They would become one entity…

      She СКАЧАТЬ