He was silent a moment. "Dammit, I feel helpless. I want to help you. How can I do it? Does your head hurt? Would you like an aspirin? Hell, that sounds lame."
She opened her eyes. "I ache all over. I don't think an aspirin would help." She glanced at the strong morning sunlight streaming in the window. "What time is it?"
"Nearly eleven. You were out for almost seven hours. You scared the hell out of me."
"Good. You should get a little of your own back." She sat up in bed. "You're the one who sent me into that trailer. I was pretty scared myself." She swung her legs to the floor. "And now I'm going to shower and brush my teeth and dress. All the common routine things that make up our lives. I need to get away from Edmund and Molino and what happened in that trailer."
"May I ask one question?"
"No, you may not." She headed for the bathroom. "We'll speak again later. Order us dinner in your room. I need to think and absorb before I talk to you again."
He asked the question anyway. "Were you with him at the end?"
She stopped but didn't turn around. "You mean that moment when he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out any longer and had to make sure they didn't get the Ledger?" Yes.
"You're damn right I was there," she said unevenly. "They thought he was unconscious and left him alone in the room. The mirror was the only weapon he had. He used it." She shut the door behind her and leaned back on it as sadness surged through her. Don't fall apart now. She had gotten through the night and the memory would be with her always but she mustn't let it weaken her. Edmund had not been weak. He had suffered and died and never let that scumbag have what he wanted.
She straightened and moved toward the shower.
"We'll get through this, Edmund," she murmured. "Molino isn't going to hurt anyone else. I promise you that he's not going to win."
GRADY'S PHONE RANG A MOMENT after the bathroom door had shut behind Megan. "Is she conscious yet?" Harley asked when he picked up. "About fifteen minutes ago."
"Is she okay?"
"No, she's walking wounded. What do you expect? She went through hell tonight."
"Easy. Don't bark at me. Remember, I have no basis for expecting anything. On the surface all I or any normal Joe can tell is that she just spent an hour or so in the dark." Sorry.
"No problem. Is she going to be all right?"
"Maybe. She's. different."
"How?"
Grady wasn't sure. He hadn't known what to expect when Megan woke. He'd only prayed she wouldn't be permanently damaged. And she might still be damaged, but he couldn't see in what manner. When she had gone into that trailer, he had sensed confusion and fear. When she woke, Megan had given off an aura of being deeper, stronger …formed.
And he had been aware of pure steel beneath that strength. "We'll have to see. I think she's working it out for herself right now. Have you located Molino's man at the circus grounds?"
"Woman," Harley corrected. "It's Marie Ledoute, a trapeze artist. She's a heavy gambler and she's recently been tossing around more money than she could have obtained from her salary. This morning she was very curious and asking questions of where Pierre, our roustabout, had been for the night."
"Did he tell her?"
"No, but he will and everything else she wants to know. She's in bed with him now."
"Keep an eye on her. She probably won't contact Molino until she leaves Pierre Jacminot. That will give us a little time."
"Right." Harley hung up.
Not much time, Grady thought. As soon as Molino knew where they were, he'd send someone on their trail. He should really bundle Megan up and whisk her away from here.
Not yet. He had a weird idea it would be like disturbing a butterfly when it was emerging from a cocoon. She hadn't been damaged last night and he wouldn't risk doing it now. She needed time and he would give it to her.
CHAPTER NINE
MEGAN OPENED THE ADJOINING DOOR to Grady's knock at six-fifteen that evening. He gave a mocking bow. "Dinner is served. I hope it's not too early for you. I want to be at the airport by eight tonight."
"Why? Is there a problem?"
"No, but you can never tell. It's better that we head out." He turned and preceded her to the white damask-covered table and held her chair for her. "You have more color. Did you get some rest?"
"A little." She sat down and spread her napkin on her lap. "But I didn't sleep."
"I didn't think you would." He sat down opposite her. "I ordered chicken and I found mushroom soup on the menu. You love it, don't you? I remember Sarah used to make it for you all the time."
"Yes, I do like it." Her brows lifted. "But it's such a little thing that I wouldn't have thought you'd remember it."
"Little likes and dislikes reveal character." He picked up his fork. "You love running in the surf, puppies, people who are honest and caring, and watching the sun come up. You hate food with mushy textures, ranting politicians, cruelly in any form, feeling helpless."
"Some of those things aren't so little."
"No. And they only give indications of the total Megan Blair. Try the salad. It's excellent."
She started to eat. "You remember all those things from that summer with Mama and me?"
"I always try to remember the good things. It always helps during the bad times. That was a very good summer for me." He smiled. "And you were a big part of what made it good. Sarah kept telling me how solemn you were but I never saw it. You were eager and funny and brimming with life. God, I'd never known anyone with that much energy and joie de vivre."
"And it didn't hurt your ego to know that I had a crush on you," she said calmly. "You did know that, didn't you? I was pretty transparent. Even Mama could see it."
"Oh, yes. I knew. I was... honored." He grimaced. "When I wasn't trying to fight off the dark side. I had to keep telling myself that you were no Lolita and I'd be sorry as hell if I seduced you." He shrugged. "Sometimes I even believed it. But if I'd stayed with you for a few more months, I would have been in trouble. I was only twenty-five myself, headstrong as the devil, and used to having my own way."
She could feel that now-familiar wave of heat moving over her as she looked at him. Everything tonight seemed clearer, simpler, every emotion keener and resounding to every word, every nuance. "I would have had something to say about being seduced. A crush doesn't necessarily guarantee that I'd jump into bed with you."
"It would have been a start." He got up and replaced her salad with the soup. "After that, I'd just have to work on giving you everything you want from me."
She raised her brows. "Like mushroom soup?"
"Ah, you've found me out." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm plying you with mushroom soup instead of champagne or strong drugs."
Mushroom soup, memories, and hints of sexuality that were more potent than any drug. She took a taste of the soup. "It's good. You chose well." She looked up when she was half finished with the soup to find him studying her. "What?"
"I was just wondering why you told me you had a crush on me all those years ago. You've been hiding your head in the sand about what happened that summer since I came back into your life."