Authors: Billie Green
Chapter Fourteen
I've talked to a friend in Las Vegas," Dr. Beidermeyer continued, unaware of the bomb he had dropped, "and we're going to try to duplicate the stuff. But I sure would like to talk to your nephew to get the exact ratio of ingredients." He laughed. "I can't wait to see what brainwave patterns the rats give off during their regression.''
Amanda stared at Daniel, forgetting Dr. Beidermeyer completely. Her head was swimming. It was too much to take in all at once.
As quickly as they could, they made accuses for themselves and Daniel's nonexistent nephew. The drive back to the cabin was interminable. Amanda could almost feel the hostility in Daniel, and she understood it. He had been deliberately drugged. Ted Sutherland had kept him a prisoner, and he identified her with Greenleigh.
Suddenly she gasped. He turned to look at her. "They died," she whispered in horror. "All the people taking the drug died." She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. "And I was going to give it to you. If you hadn't destroyed it—" She was shaking all over. "If—"
He pulled the car over and took her by the shoulders, giving her a hard shake. "Stop it, Amanda. It doesn't do any good to blame yourself."
"Why not?" she said, laughing hysterically. "You are."
He didn't deny it. He didn't respond at all. He simply pulled the car back into the narrow road and continued driving.
One of the bags in the back seat shifted and she remembered, as though it had happened in another lifetime, the plans they had made for the evening. Their laughter, their earlier companionship, mocked her. That was before he decided she had conspired against him.
As soon as they were inside the cabin, Amanda turned to him. "We've got to talk about this," she said tightly.
"I need to think," he said, turning away from her. "We'll talk later."
She grabbed his arm. "You never want to talk when it's important!" she shouted, tension exploding in anger. "You watch me and watch me until I want to scream, but you never talk. Goddamn it, we've got to get this settled. This place is driving me crazy. You're driving me crazy!"
It was the spur Daniel had been waiting for. All the tension of the past few days came to a head. Grasping her, he jerked her hard against him. He cupped the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to his, bruising her, making her feel his anger.
After a stunned moment, Amanda shoved away from him, staggering back to put a trembling hand to her lips. Flushed, tears of anger on her lashes, she rasped out, "You said you wouldn't touch me again."
"No, I'm not supposed to touch, am I?" he ground out. "All that's for your sweet Danny." His blazing green gaze drifted over her in contempt. "It suited you to have him a little off, didn't it?"
She backed away as he stepped closer, her eyes wide as she listened. "What are you saying?" she Whispered.
He stared at her silently for a moment, then slowly he said. "How was your sex life, Amanda?" His voice was cold and hard. "What was it like with Danny boy?"
She closed her eyes tightly against the assault, silently begging him to stop. He made it sound sick, obscene.
"No, look at me," he said, grabbing her shoulders to shake her. "A strong, mentally healthy man doesn't suit you, does it? That's too threatening. You have to take too many chances... because you're no longer in control."
"Stop," she whispered hoarsely. "You don't know... you're wrong." She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them to stare up at him. "You could never in a million years understand what I had with Danny. You're cold." She backed away from him toward the door. "You're cold and dead inside." Swinging around, she ran out of the cabin.
Amanda didn't even know where she was going; she simply knew she had to get away from him. Branches and brambles pulled at her clothing, tearing them as she ran, but she ignored them. Her breath came in harsh gasps as she tried to escape him, to escape his lies.
Then she heard Daniel behind her, and suddenly he caught her arm, swinging her around violently, jerking her body against his.
She fought like a wild thing, sobbing as she struck out at him blindly. But he didn't release her. When he tripped on an exposed root, he rolled with her in his arms until he was lying on top of her.
"Cold," he ground out, his eyes furious slits. "Am I cold, Amanda?" he asked as he pushed her cotton blouse up over her breasts. Burying his face in the soft flesh, he said, "Am I dead?"
Amanda brought her hand up to tear at his face, but he caught it roughly in his, folding it down to her side. There was anger in his every movement. He punished her breasts, sucking at them, pulling at the nipples with his teeth, building a hated fire in her loins. She moaned against it; she moaned for it.
Then as abruptly as it had begun, the assault stopped. He didn't remove his body from hers, but neither did he touch her.
For a long time, she lay there with her eyes closed, listening to the harsh sound of their breathing, then slowly, she opened her eyes to look at him.
He was staring down at her and this time his expression was easy to read. The anger was gone, disappeared like a bad genie sent back to the lamp. In its place was the most anguished yearning she had ever seen.
"Daniel?" she said, her voice husky.
His hand was shaking as he reached up to touch her cheek. "How can you think that I blame you for what happened?" he whispered harshly. "Don't you think I know that without you I would still be there?"
But Amanda didn't want to hear about blame or Greenleigh or even about the harsh words that had just passed between them. She didn't want to remember who she was or who he was or that they were poles apart in every way. He had built a fire in her that prevented her from thinking at all.
Meeting his gaze, she held it as she raised her head slowly. She was so close she could feel his breath on her mouth. She moved slightly and touched her tongue to his full lower lip.
The groan that came from deep in his throat shook her to the core. It reverberated in the air, sending erotic messages to the secret parts of her, the womanly parts of her. The emotion that surged between them was charged, not with anger but with a desperate hunger. No longer was she fighting against him; she was fighting for him, for his touch. She was struggling for his lips.
The fingers that had tried to claw at his face now clawed at his clothing. When they were naked, when she felt his hard, heated flesh against hers, there was a sweet savagery between them. The tensions and anger of the past made the present all the more urgent.
Tremors shook her as he cupped her buttocks in his large hands and entered her at last. "Daniel... oh, Daniel," she heard someone moan, then realized the voice, so husky, so filled with desire, was hers.
Their slick, overheated bodies merged into one beneath the canopy of trees. She writhed against him, meeting every urgent thrust with an urgency of her own. Time stopped as her one desire in life became Daniel. The pressure, the agonizing need, built until she thought she would scream for it to stop.. .or go on forever.
Violent shudders had just began to wrack his body when the climax of their mating exploded inside her, touching every part of her, leaving her changed.
She knew she would never be the same person again. A blindfold had been lifted from her eyes. Here, in the grass with this man, she had collided with life. She had met it head on, and now she knew the wildness of it; now she knew the savage beauty of it.
When the tremors stopped at last, she felt the cool air on her bare flesh and closed her eyes briefly as reality began to return.
What had happened to her? she wondered in desperate confusion. What had brought about this unasked-for change? This wasn't the gentle loving she had had with Danny. This was love on the edge.
She closed her eyes in embarrassment, remembering the way she had pleaded for his touch, remembering the urgency with which she had touched him.
Without looking at the man who lay next to her, she stood and began pulling on her clothes. After a moment, she heard him rise to his feet to do the same, but still she didn't look at him. She was too confused, too unsure of herself.
When he touched her arm, she flinched violently.
"Amanda—" his voice was strange, almost gentle "—now I think we had better talk."
She nodded and walked away from him. At the cabin, they sat at the table across from each other. Amanda stared down at her hands in silence. Tension was gone, but wariness had taken its place.
"You said Sutherland had developed this 'treatment.'"
His voice startled her, so involved was she in her own thoughts. She was relieved that he wasn't going to bring up what had happened between them in the woods. She wanted to erase it from her mind.
Feeling his gaze on her, she nodded, responding to his question. "I still can't believe it," she said, her voice subdued, her eyes worried. "I know he has to be the one who did that to you, but I just can't take it in. He's a world-famous physician and researcher. What possible reason could he have for doing that to you? Surely he wasn't experimenting on human beings?"
"I don't imagine he did it on his own," Daniel said. "I assume someone paid him to do it."
Amanda glanced at him in surprise. She hadn't considered that possibility. Money inspired people in some very ugly ways. "Maribel Fortnoy," she whispered suddenly.
"Who?"
"She was one of the Special Ones....like you. It was her death that made me realize you were going to die, too. She had a terrible niece who inherited everything upon her death, millions and millions of dollars."
He looked up, his eyes narrow. "So it would have been worth quite a sum to get rid of her in an unsuspicious way."
She glanced at him hesitantly. "Who inherits your money?"
Smiling grimly, he said, "That was the first thing I thought of. But it doesn't work. Kyle inherits it. Even if by some wild stretch of the imagination I were willing to consider my own brother a suspect, he doesn't need the money. When my father died, we inherited equal shares of his estate. If anything he's better off than I am....at least right now. The Italian end is going great, but most of my capital, my disposable assets, are tied up because of a takeover fight. At least they were the last I remember."
He stood and ran a hand through his hair. "I need to know what's going on at Philton right now. Tomorrow I'll call Jonas. I should have called him days ago," he muttered, almost to himself. "He still keeps up with the company and should be able to tell me what's happening. He might even be able to tell me who is responsible for my being at Greenleigh." He paused, then added, "I don't have to tell him where I am."
She nodded, closing her eyes. She was tired, too tired to think anymore. She felt she had lived ten years today. Without warning, she sensed movement and jerked her eyes open, watching warily as he stood and walked around the table.
"We can't do anything tonight. Try to put it out of your mind. You've had a rough day," he said softly, reaching out to stroke her hair.
Amanda stiffened, unable to take her eyes from him.
"You hate me," he murmured, and she could detect no regret in his voice. "And you probably hate yourself as well. But it doesn't matter. The same thing is going on inside you that's going on inside me. And you can't deny it. You need me as much as I need you."
Stooping, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
Amanda wanted to argue. She wanted to scream that he was wrong. But he wasn't wrong. She needed him. She was dying for him.
Chapter Fifteen
Daniel pulled the convertible over to the side of the street and drifted to a stop in front of a telephone booth. Tension filled him, overflowing until he felt it touching the woman beside him. He should have left her behind at the cabin, but he knew without asking that she wouldn't have stayed.
He stared for a moment at the booth, his mouth settling into a grim line. Slowly, he shifted his shoulders, forcing himself to relax before he stepped from the car without a word to Amanda.
Jonas would tell him what he needed to know. If there was a man on earth he could trust besides Kyle it was Jonas Brady.
***
"You've got to stay, Jonas." Daniel leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk that separated him from the older man. His father's desk. "At least for a little while. Just until I get things going."
Jonas's brown eyes had turned almost amber with age. In one hand he held an ancient pipe and used it to scratch the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "I don't know, Daniel. I only stayed because your father seemed to expect it of me. Now that he's gone, it just doesn't seem like the same place."
Daniel glanced down at his hands for a moment, then he said quietly, "This place needs you, Jonas. I can handle the work, but it's going to be a while before everyone accepts me. That'll happen a lot sooner and a lot easier if I've got you backing me. Everyone trusts you. You and my father built Philton."
Jonas studied him in silence. "Are you planning on changing things? You know what they say about new brooms."
Daniel hesitated, then he met the older man's eyes. "I'm not going to lie to you. There will be changes. I have ideas I've been sitting on for years. But I'll never make a change simply to show I'm boss. I won't change anything that doesn't need changing. When I'm positive—absolutely positive—that my way is better, then I'll make the change." He paused. "I want you here, Jonas. But if you can't live with what I'm going to do, then I'll accept your resignation."
It was several minutes before the older man spoke again. "You've got a lot of your father in you, but there's a lot that's just you."
"Does that bother you?"
Jonas stood and held out his hand. "As a matter of fact, I think I like it. We'll work well together, Daniel."
And they had, Daniel thought as he stepped inside the booth. Picking up the telephone, he slipped a coin into the slot. Even though he was retired, Jonas would be able to tell him what was happening at Philton. He was a good man, a trustworthy man. But still Daniel wouldn't tell him where they were. The naked singularity.
"Jonas?" he said when the phone was picked up on the other end.
"Yes? Who is this?"
"Jonas, it's Daniel."
"Daniel?" The old man's voice quavered. "Where are you? Are you all right? What in hell has been going on?"
"I'm fine, Jonas," Daniel said. "Whatever was wrong with me before is gone. I'm back on track."
"Yes," the old man said slowly. "Yes, I can hear it." Now there was deep satisfaction in his voice. "By God, I knew nothing would keep you down. You're too much your old man's son. This is great, Daniel. Just great."
Daniel hesitated but only for a moment. "Jonas, I need some information."
"Shoot. I'll tell you what I can."
Shifting his stance, Daniel leaned against the wall. "Who took over when I... while I was away?"
"Beeker," Jonas said immediately. "He seemed like the logical choice to everyone concerned. Was that all right?"
Daniel pictured the short, sturdy man. He had been with the company for years and had taken Jonas's place as Daniel's right hand. No, Edgar Beeker wasn't responsible for this, Daniel thought, frowning.
"Beeker was fine," Daniel said. "Jonas, tell me everything that happened when it was discovered that I was ill."
He heard the old man exhale heavily. "It all happened so fast, Daniel. We had lunch on Wednesday as usual... do you remember that?"
"No, I'm afraid my memory is a little fuzzy. I remember that we have always had lunch together on Wednesday, but I'm afraid I can't recall that particular Wednesday."
"Well, you were fine. Your usual self. You told me you had to go to some kind of fund-raiser that night. All the bigwigs in California were supposed to be there. The next morning—that was Thursday—I got a call from your secretary. Everyone at Philton was in a panic. I had a job making them keep their mouths shut. If word had gotten out that you were sick before a successor could be chosen, Philton's stock would have dropped out of sight. Anyway, it seems that you had some kind of attack at the fund-raiser and had been taken to the hospital. Just happens that Dr. Sutherland was at the dinner, too. He rode with you to the hospital, and when your own doctor couldn't be located, he examined you and recommended that you be moved to his place. I forget the name of it."
"Greenleigh Acres?"
"Yes, that's it. I didn't care for the idea because you know my doctor won't let me travel that far. But your doctor backed him up and when they talked Kyle into the idea, too, there was nothing I could do about it."
Daniel straightened away from the wall of the phone booth. "Kyle? Kyle was here?"
"He flew in a couple of days after you were hospitalized. He wanted to take you back to Italy with him, but the doctors and board members convinced him you would get better care from Sutherland. He stayed until you were settled in at Sutherland's place, then flew back to Rome."
"Jonas, this is important," Daniel said, gripping the telephone tightly. "Do you remember which of the board members wanted me at Greenleigh?"
"Eventually all of them," he said, his voice puzzled.
"But in the beginning, who pushed for it?"
"Couldn't tell you, Daniel. I was getting most of my information secondhand. They called me in to calm things down, but I barely got to talk to anyone in charge, not even Kyle. By the time I did, the decision had already been made." There was a long pause. "You think there was something funny going on at Sutherland's place?"
The old man was still sharp, Daniel thought, smiling grimly. "I can't say yet, Jonas. There are still a lot of things to work out."
Actually, it was only one thing, he told himself, one very important fact. Who did this to him and why? Who wanted him out of the way so badly they would pay someone to kill him?
In the car, Amanda stared at the phone booth, watching Daniel's face, studying it intently as he talked. How could they have been so close last night and so far apart this morning? she wondered in confusion. When they were making love he became a different person. He opened himself up to her; he was generous and warm and loving. But the rest of the time there was a solid wall between them, a wall of his making. Had he ever allowed anyone to get close to him? It had suddenly occurred to her that even when he laughed with her, he was pretending. He was hiding behind an effective facade.
Yet, despite the wall, something had grown between them. Amanda knew it couldn't even be described as a love affair; it was more of a mutual obsession. The attraction between them—the sensual ties—was stronger than anything she had ever felt.
Shifting restlessly, she wondered just exactly what she was looking for from him. Why did she keep demanding, to herself, that there be more? Anyone would think she actually wanted him to be in love with her.
Suddenly she closed her eyes weakly. Was that what she wanted? Was she in love with Daniel?
She couldn't answer the question. Their relationship was too complicated to be summed up in such a simple phrase. Even if she finally decided that she loved him, it didn't change the fact that he was a man who would never allow himself to love in return.
She closed her eyes for a moment. Just for a moment, she allowed herself to think of Danny. But crazily, she couldn't summon up his image. In her mind, he had somehow merged with Daniel.
Just then, Daniel stepped out of the booth and walked toward the car. She pulled herself upright.
"You're pleased," she said quietly as she examined his strong features.
"Kyle's home," he said. "Jonas just told me he's staying at the house. When he found out I was missing, he dropped everything and flew over from Rome."
"Daniel, that's wonderful. Will he help?"
"He's my brother," he said simply, then he pushed a hand through his hair. "We've got problems I hadn't thought of. Jonas says there's a full-scale manhunt underway. The police are looking for us everywhere."
She drew in a sharp breath. "Does that include the Nevada police, too?"
"According to Jonas, it includes every police department in the country... and the FBI."
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "They think I kidnapped you, don't they?"
He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted it, meeting her eyes. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I'm here, remember. They won't catch us, but even if they did, I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I give you my word on that."
Amanda wanted to believe him, but she knew if the police found them, they would arrest her first and ask questions later. It could take days to get it straightened out.
"Amanda," he said firmly. "I said I would take care of you. I don't give my word lightly."
She exhaled slowly. "No.. .no of course you don't. I'm not worried, really. It's just a little strange to think my face might be on post-office walls all over the country." She grinned suddenly. "I'm torn between hoping it's not the picture from my driver's license and hoping it is. If it is, no one could possibly recognize me from it. On the other hand, if I have to gain notoriety, I like to do it looking my best."
He threw back his head and laughed in genuine amusement and Amanda felt as though clouds had lifted and the day had grown brighter.
"Did Jonas tell you anything?" she asked, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked up at him.
He shook his head. "Nothing substantial. I know who took over after I left, but it doesn't mean anything. Ed Beeker isn't a man after power...and that's what this is all about. I'm sure of it. There are a lot of ambitious men at Philton, men who would break a few rules to get to the top." He frowned thoughtfully. "The thing about power is that the need for it grows in direct proportion to the amount attained—the more you get, the more you want. When people get in the way, sometimes it's necessary to run over them."
"That sounds so cold," she said, shivering slightly. "I don't think I could live in that world, always wondering if one of my associates is out to get me."
He shrugged. "You get used to it. And after a while it gets to be a game... king of the hill."
She shook her head, then met his eyes. "What do we do now?"
He drew in a deep breath. "Now we call Kyle." Turning away, he walked back to the booth.
"Kyle?" he said a few seconds later.
There was tense silence on the other end, then Kyle whispered, "Dan? God, Dan, is that really you?"
Daniel laughed. "Yes, it's me. Listen, Kyle, and don't say anything until I'm through."
This time Daniel left nothing out. He told his brother everything he knew about what had happened to him, everything that he and Amanda had pieced together.
Five minutes later, Kyle let out a long breath. "Son of a bitch," he said roughly. "I can't believe it. It's like a science-fiction movie. But you're really all right...I can tell by your voice. You can't imagine what it was like knowing that physically you were Dan, but mentally you were—"
Kyle broke off and laughed harshly. "I can't take it all in. It's just so incredible. When are you coming home?" His voice was urgent. "I want to be with you when you talk to the police about Sutherland....just in case they don't believe that you're really all right again." He swore viciously under his breath. "That bastard Sutherland. I always knew there was something phony about him, but I just thought it was that pretty-boy smile. I sure never thought of anything like this. Hell, I panicked like everyone else when I heard that nurse kidnapped you."
"She isn't a nurse," Daniel said, frowning. "She's a bookkeeper. And she didn't kidnap me. If it weren't for her, I would still be in that place. I owe her a lot." Like my life, he added silently.
"My, my," Kyle said. "What's this note I hear in your voice? Don't tell me you've been getting your kicks while we were all going crazy. Where are you anyway?"
"That doesn't matter." He was annoyed, and he didn't know why. Kyle was a casual devil, but Daniel didn't like him talking about Amanda as though she were a roll in the hay. "What's important is that I'm on my way home. It may take us a while; can you wait there at the house for us?"
"Do you even have to ask, brother? I won't set foot outside until you get here. But Dan, can't you tell me—"
"I've got to go now, Kyle. I'll tell you all about it when we get there."
He hung up and stepped out of the phone booth. His head was throbbing slightly, his pulse pounding. Fight or flight. Why should he react that way? It was almost finished now. He could hand it over to the police, and they would find out who had done this to him.
Shaking his head, he walked back to the car. "We'll have to drive to Los Angeles," he told her. "The police are probably watching the airports."