know you!”
One brow shot upward. Tamara’s hand flew to her mouth because she’d pictured him with just such an expression. She had no time to consider it, though, since his next odd question came so quickly. “And do you know him?”
He glanced toward the street and she followed his gaze, catching her breath when she saw Curt’s DPI van parked there. She knew it was his by the rust spot just beneath the side mirror on the driver’s door. She could barely believe he had the audacity to spy on her. On an indignant sigh she whispered, “He followed me. Why, that heavy-handed son of a—”
“Very good, although I suspect his reason for being posted there is known to you full well. This was a trap, was it not? Lure me here, and then your attentive friend over there—”
“Lure you here? Why on earth would I lure you here, and how, for God’s sake? I told you I’ve never seen you before.”
“You call to me nightly, Tamara. You’ve begged me to come to you until you’ve nearly driven me insane.”
“I don’t think it would be a long trip. I told you, I haven’t called you. I don’t even know your name.”
Again his gaze searched her face and she felt her mind being searched. He sighed, frowning until his brows met. “Suppose you tell me why you think that gent would follow you, then?”
“Knowing Curt, he probably thinks it’s for my own good. God knows he tosses that phrase around enough lately.” Her anger softened a bit, as she thought it through more thoroughly. “He might be a little worried about me. I know Daniel is…my guardian, that is. Frankly, I’m worried myself. I don’t sleep at night anymore—not ever. The only time I feel even slightly like sleeping is during the day. In fact, I’ve fallen asleep at my desk twice now. I take to my bed the second I get home and sleep like a rock, but only until dusk. Just at nightfall I have terrible nightmares and usually cry out loud enough to convince them both I’m losing my mind, and then I’m up and restless all night lo—” She broke off, realizing she was blurting her life story to a perfect stranger.
“Please don’t stop,” he said at once. He seemed keenly interested in hearing more. “Tell me about these nightmares.” He must’ve seen her wariness. He reached out to her, touched her cheek with the tips of his long, narrow fingers. “I only want to help you. I mean you no harm.”
She shook her head. “You’ll only agree with me that I’m slipping around the bend.” He frowned. “Cracking up,” she explained. She pointed one finger at her ear and made little circles. “Wacko.”
“You most certainly are not…wacko, as you put it.” His hand slipped around to the back of her head and he drew her nearer. She didn’t resist. She hadn’t felt so perfectly at peace in months as she felt in his arms. He held her gently against him, as if she were a small child, and one hand stroked her hair. “Tell me, Tamara.”
She sighed, unable to resist the smooth allure of his voice, or of his touch, though she knew it made no sense. “It’s dark, and there is a jungle of sorts, and a lot of fog and mist covering the ground so I can’t see my feet. I trip a lot as I run. I don’t know if I’m running toward something or away from something. I know I’m looking for someone, and in the dream I know that person can help me find my way. But I call and call and he doesn’t answer.”
He stopped stroking her hair all at once, and she thought he tensed. “To whom do you call?”
“I think that might be what’s driving me crazy. I can never remember. I wake as breathless and exhausted as if I really had been running through that forest, sometimes halfway through shouting his name—but I just can’t remember.”
His breath escaped in a rush. “Tamara, how does the dream make you feel?”
She stepped away from him and studied his face. “Are you a psychologist?”
“No.”
“Then I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.” She tried to pull her gaze from his familiar face. “Because I really don’t know you.”
She stiffened as her name was shouted from across the ice. “Tammy!”
She grimaced. “I hate when he calls me that.” She searched the eyes of her stranger again, and again she felt as if she’d just had a long-awaited reunion with someone she adored. “Are you real, or a part of my insanity?” No, don’t tell me, she thought suddenly. I don’t want to know. “I’d better go before Curt worries himself into a stroke.”
“Does he have the right to worry?”
She paused, frowning. “If you mean is he my husband, the answer is no. We’re close, but not in a romantic way. He’s more like a…bossy older brother.”
She turned and skated away across the ice toward Curt, but she felt his gaze on her back all the way there. She tried to glance over her shoulder to see if he was still there, but she caught no sight of him. Then she approached Curt and slowed her pace. He’d been hurrying across the ice, toward her.
He gripped her upper arm hard, and marched her off the edge of the ice. On the snowy ground she stumbled on her skates, but he continued propelling her at the same pace until they reached the nearest bench, and then he shoved her down onto the seat.
“Who the hell was that man?”
She shrugged, relieved that Curtis had seen him, too. “Just a stranger I met.”
“I want his name!”
She frowned at the authority and anger in his voice. Curt had always been bossy but this was going too far. “We didn’t get around to exchanging names, and what business is it of yours, anyway?”
“You’re telling me you don’t know who that was?” She nodded. “The hell you don’t,” he exploded. He gripped her shoulders, pulled her to her feet and held her hard. He glared at her and would have frightened her if she hadn’t known him so well. “What did you think you were doing sneaking out alone at night like that? Well?”
“Skating! Ouch.” His fingers bit into her shoulders. “I was only skating, Curt. You know I can’t sleep. I thought some exercise—”
“Bull. You came out here to meet him, didn’t you?”
“Who? That nice man I was talking to? For God’s sake, Curtis, I—”
“Talking to? That’s a nice name for it. I saw you, Tammy. You were in his arms.”
Anger flared. “I don’t care if I had sex with the man in the middle of the rink, Curtis Rogers. I’m a grown woman and what I do is my business. You followed me here! I don’t care how worried Daniel gets, I will not put up with you spying on me, and I won’t defend my actions to you. Who do you think you are?”
His grip tightened and he shook her once—then again. “The truth, Tammy. Dammit, you’ll tell me the truth!” He shook her until her head wobbled on her shoulders. “You know who he was, don’t you? You came here to meet him, didn’t you? Didn’t you!”
“L-let me go…Curt-tis you’re-rr…hurt-ting…”
Her vision had blurred from the shaking and the fear that she didn’t
