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If she were feeling better, if she believed that the man who claimed to be her husband was whom he said he was, if she could remember more of her past, Nikki knew she would enjoy this beautiful old hotel with its dark furniture, whitewashed walls, slow-moving fans and graceful ironwork.
She made her way to the desk and tried to speak with the thin man at the register, but her halting Spanish wasn’t any better than his attempts at English. Trying to avoid staring at the scabs on her face, he forced a smile and located an older man with thick silver hair, glasses and a ruddy complexion.
“How can I help you, señora?”
Hiding her nerves, she told the man that her husband had mistakenly taken the room key and she’d locked herself out of her room. The lies came easier as she went on, and with very little explanation, she was given her own key. She asked to see their registration form, and the man, though his white eyebrows lifted slightly, showed her the receipt Trent had signed. An imprint of an American Express card identified him as Trent McKenzie. Skimming the rest of the information, she noted that he lived in Seattle, though the address meant nothing to her. She forced her tired mind to memorize the street and telephone number, then asked the man behind the desk about a camera shop or a place she could develop pictures.
“For the film?” he said, his lower lip protruding thoughtfully. “On the waterfront. José’s. He can get you pictures in two, maybe three days.”
Three days! “Doesn’t anyone here do it in an hour?’
The ruddy man laughed. “Santa María is not New York,” he said. “Talk to José. Maybe he can…rush the job for you.”
She turned away and nearly tripped on a boy of about five who was staring at her. His eyes were round and he pointed at her face before running to catch up with his mother, a tall, graceful woman in a voile dress. The woman glanced at Nikki, offered a smile filled with pity and promptly scolded her son for staring.
Nikki cringed inside. She wouldn’t be able to get out without drawing attention to herself. Though her scabs were healing and her black eye had nearly disappeared, she would still attract attention wherever she went.
She needed a disguise. Something simple. Dark glasses and a hat with a scarf attached that she could wrap over her face. With the traveler’s checks still tucked in her wallet, she could buy something inexpensive. All she needed was a shop, and certainly a hotel this large catering mainly to tourists, would have a little store.
Thanking the clerk, she walked as quickly as she could down a corridor leading to an exit when she felt someone watching her. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she saw him, lounging lazily in a chair near the terrace doors, his eyes trained on her, one boot propped on a table. Slowly, Trent pushed himself upright. His face was impassive, devoid of emotion, as he approached his “wife.”
“Been busy, haven’t you?”
Oh, God, did he hear her ask about developing the film? Her throat was as dry as cotton. “I couldn’t stand being in the room a second longer.”
“So you decided to check up on me.”
She wanted to deny it, but wasn’t going to lie. Well, not much, especially when she’d been caught red-handed. She inched her chin up a notch. “Look, Trent, I can’t recall diddly-squat about my past, I don’t remember you, or why—or even if—we were married. You haven’t acted much like a bridegroom on his honeymoon, and I feel like you’re hiding things from me, so why wouldn’t I come down here and try to put a few of the pieces of my life together?”
“You want me to act like a bridegroom?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Is that what you want? To barricade ourselves into the bedroom for three or four days?”
“No, I—”
“It can be arranged, you know. Just say the word and I’ll carry you upstairs and we’ll get down to it.”
“You don’t understand—”
“You don’t understand, damn it! I’ve tried hard not to rush you, Nikki. I figured that it would be better to wait until you wanted me as much as I want you.” His lips flattened over his teeth and he grabbed the crook of her arm roughly. “You want to go upstairs? Now? Just you and me?”
“No!” her voice was strangled, and she felt fear mixed with awe at the pure animal lust in his eyes.
“I didn’t think so.” In disgust he dropped her arm and shoved his hair from his eyes. “This is driving me crazy!”
“You? At least you have a past.”
“You will, too,” he said, his voice harsh.
“Easy for you to say.”
“Why can’t you trust me?” he asked, his eyes an arresting shade of blue. For a second she saw a flicker of despair in his gaze, but it was quickly hidden.
“I don’t know you.”
He looked as if she’d slapped him. “Oh, hell, I’m not arguing about this again! Come on.” He grabbed hold of her wrist and started for the elevator.
“No!” She refused to budge and nearly stumbled as he tugged on her arm. Several old men who had been smoking near a window cranked their heads i
n Nikki’s direction.
