Lost Identity Read Free

an enveloping panic. She clung to him and felt the warmth of his arms encircling her.
    “You just had a bad dream,” he said gently.
    A bad dream. Her mind grabbed at his reassurance. That’s all it was. A nightmare. Only fragments of images remained in her consciousness, and even as she tried to capture them, they faded away like shadows in a mist. Whatever had triggered the terror that had brought her screaming out of a tortured sleep, slipped away, leaving her empty and shaken.
    As the drumming of her heart began to lessen, she managed to stammer, “I’m…I’m sorry…”
    “It’s all right.” He stroked her hair and lifted it away from her moist cheeks, aware of the delicate contour of her face and the totally feminine body pressed against his. “Everything will look different in the morning,” he promised once again. He held her close until her breathing settled into a normal rhythm, then he eased her back down on the bed and quietly left the room.
    Sleep evaded him as he settled down for the night on the cot in his computer room. His mind kept turning over unanswered questions. He was certain now that she was truly frightened about something or someone. Although he was sympathetic to her situation, whatever it might be, he still didn’t want to get involved. He suspected that there was a lover somewhere in the picture. She was very attractive, and more appealing than he was ready to admit. Holding her in his arms had ignited some tender needs that he thought he’d buried a long time ago. Turning restlessly on thenarrow cot, he tried to forget how soft and vulnerable she had felt in his arms.
     
    W HEN T RISH WOKE UP early the next morning, she was disoriented as she looked around the small room. Then a quiver of relief shot through her. She knew where she was. Everything came back from the moment that she’d been carried into the house. A man named Andrew had rescued her. And before that? And before that? The question kept ricocheting from one side of her head to the other.
    Her lips quivered. Nothing. Nothing.
    Hugging Andrew’s faded robe around her, she walked to the window and stared at the scene stretched out before her. The summer storm had passed, leaving a soft mist moving away from the land.
    Dragging her eyes over a small rocky cove below the cottage, she searched the empty beach and rolling breakers, struggling to recover some vision of what had happened to bring her to that deserted stretch of sand.
    A new day lay fresh and glistening in the sunlight. She swallowed hard. A new day. For what? Running and hiding? Running from what? Hiding from whom? She turned back toward the bed, ready to crawl back in and cover up her head, but hesitated when she heard sounds in the other rooms.
    Andrew was up. She knew he would be wanting some answers, but what should she tell him? If she admitted that she had no clue who she was, or how she had ended up on his beach, he would probably insist on taking her somewhere. Something deep within warned her not to leave this haven of safety until she could remember why she felt threatened andin danger. She decided to take the coward’s way out—climb back in bed, cover up her head and pretend to be asleep.
    Andrew prepared his usual breakfast of cereal and toast, and made two extra cups of coffee. This was one of his days in the office, but he’d hoped that he and his houseguest would have some time to talk before he left. Glancing at his watch, he knew that wasn’t going to happen unless she got up in the next few minutes.
    She didn’t appear. The bedroom door was still closed when he was ready to leave. He listened for any sounds inside, and then quietly opened the door and peeked in. She was still in bed. He was about to close it again when she raised her head and gave him a startled look.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m about to leave for the office.” He frowned. He didn’t feel right about leaving her after last night’s sobbing