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“A refinery I own was ablaze. We suspected terrorists at first, but I now suspect it was an inside job. The employee has fled the area, but I’ll find him. Ten men died, and even more were injured because of him. I’ll say no more about that.”
“Mr. Outen, your face is so well known. How were you able to hide so successfully, and where did you go?”
“A few good friends, and I’m not going to tell you where I went. I might need that hidey-hole again one day.”
And then he ended the press conference on that bit of humor by thanking them for coming and strode off the stage with his head up and his well-known swagger.
Amalie and Sean were on the phone together, watching the press conference. She was at her office, and he watched from home. When it was over, he asked, “Do you feel better now, knowing you weren’t mentioned?”
“Yes! I’m satisfied the media is unaware that I even exist,” she said.
“Is it still on for tonight?” he asked.
She smiled. “It’s always going to be on with us. I’m locking up the office at noon and getting that key made. I’ll close early if I can, but if not, I’ll be home right after I pick up the barbecue. Love you, and drive safe coming down.”
“I always drive safe. Love you more,” but as he wasdisconnecting Amalie heard an echo.My little Chickie, love you more.
She put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes.
“Who are you?”
But the whispers were gone. She sighed, then turned off the television and went back to work. Tonight, she would sleep in Sean Pope’s arms, knowing all was right with her world.
It had been raining in Jubilee for over an hour now, cocooning the population beneath roofs and within walls. The evening meal had come and gone, leaving the faint scent of barbecue lingering in the air.
Foreplay began with conversation, teasing and flirting until the need for more moved between them. Lights dimmed as they moved from room to room until Sean was standing in Amalie’s bedroom, taking off her clothes.
The silence of the act was a seduction all its own.
Every stroke of his fingers against her skin. His breath against her neck as he slid his hands beneath her hair. The weight of her breasts against the back of his hands. The scars she had been loath to reveal were nothing more to him that the topography of the woman he loved.
And then Amalie stood bare beneath his gaze, watching as he came out of his clothes without fanfare—as always, staggered by the breadth and the height of him. All man…and he was hers.
A gust of wind splattered rain against her curtained windows as she reached for him, pulling him down onto the bed beside her. They lay facing each other, her hand on his shoulder. His hand on the curve of her hip. Gazes locked, and then a whisper…Close your eyes.
They both heard it, thinking the other one said it, and obeyed.
But when the veil went down, the curtain lifted.
In Amalie’s mind, she saw the bearded man and the tender look within his eyes.
Sean saw himself staring into the face of a young woman with brown skin and black hair so long it covered the pillow upon which she was lying. And then a whisper again.
Lost no more. It is done.
They both jumped. Their eyes flew open, and they were staring at each other in shock.
Sean cupped her cheek. “What did you just see?”
Amalie’s heart was pounding. “I saw a big man…as big as you, with a dark curly beard. I think he’s been talking to me. Ever since my wreck. Who is he? Why is this happening?”
“Because you came home,” Sean said.
The lights flickered in the hall, acknowledging his answer.
“I don’t understand. I’ve never been here before,” she said.
“Not in this lifetime you haven’t, but you were…once before. You loved a man who called you Chickie.”
