Heir to Secret Memories. Mallory Kane
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Название: Heir to Secret Memories
Автор: Mallory Kane
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
isbn: 9781472033628
isbn:
“Fine. You’ve got light. Do something. My daughter is out there.”
He walked over to the kitchen area.
She gritted her teeth in frustration. “Aren’t you listening to me?”
He stuck a cup under her nose, a cup filled almost to the brim with a dark liquid. The sweet, hot smell of brandy hit her. “What’s that for?”
“Drink up. You’ll need something to numb the pain.”
“I can’t be drunk. I haven’t eaten all day. What if they call?”
“I’m sure if they call you’ll manage. Now drink it.” His harsh voice brooked no argument.
Paige shot him a venomous glance and reluctantly took the chipped cup. Her throbbing shoulder was sending waves of nauseating pain through her. The idea of stopping it for a little while was seductive.
She drank. The fiery stuff gagged her. She coughed, then drank some more. When she’d managed to down about half the cup, he took it and set it aside, then sat down beside her.
She tensed.
“Why did these people send you to find me? Why would they think you knew where I was?” he asked as he laid his hand on her shoulder.
Paige didn’t want to answer that question. She was stuck here, dependent on him. She had to have his help. If she told him the truth about why they’d kidnapped Katie, he might not believe her. He might not want to help her.
“That’s a good question,” she said, hoping he’d drop the subject.
“I’m listening if you want to give me a good answer,” he said, smiling slightly. “Tell me about us.” His hand gently traced the line of her shoulder, running over the place that hurt so badly, the place where she knew something was wrong.
“Us,” she repeated wryly. She was feeling woozy from the brandy, but at least every breath wasn’t total agony now.
“You said we met seven years ago.”
“In Jackson Square. I was on my way to work. I went to school during the day and worked at night.”
Johnny was feeling her shoulder with both hands now, his touch at once familiar and alien. They were Johnny’s gentle, caring fingers, but back then his hands had been soft.
Now rough calluses scraped her skin, and his arms were bronzed by the sun. He was different.
It was a very interesting difference.
“You asked if you could draw me.” She smiled sleepily. “You said I had a classic face.”
“You do.”
She lifted heavy eyelids to find his gaze roaming over her eyes and nose and mouth. It felt like gentle fingers tracing her features. His lashes shadowed his eyes as his gaze lingered on her suddenly dry lips. She licked them.
He frowned, then blinked. “I don’t think your shoulder is completely dislocated. That’s good,” he said, putting a hand on either side of her shoulder, where it hurt so bad.
“Have you ever done this before?” Paige didn’t like the way her words were coming out. They were slow and slurred. But she did like the way Johnny’s hands felt. The warmth of his roughened fingers was comforting. They seemed to soak the pain right out of her.
“Let’s say I have some experience. Tell me what happened after I drew you.”
His hands were gently massaging her shoulder. It hurt, but not as much as moving it herself did.
“I was seventeen. You may have been twenty-one.” She was back there again, sitting in the hot sun during the day while his talented hands created magic on paper. Then at night in her apartment, those hands created magic on her body. She closed her eyes as the memories stirred sweet yearnings inside her. “We fell in love.”
She had trusted him, but he’d broken her heart.
“You promised me you’d come back for me. You gave me this ring.” She started to hold up her left hand, but Johnny was squeezing her shoulder.
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