“No, that would be a mistake.”
“So that may mean I won’t be able to get back here for a while. And you won’t come to me.”
“No.”
“But I will come back, Eve.” He lifted her up and put his cheek against her belly. It felt rough and hard against her bare flesh. “And you will remember me. Say it.”
“You’d be hard to forget.”
“That’s not good enough.” He lifted his head, and his eyes were glittering, burning, as they held her own. “Tell me. You’ll remember everything we did, everything we are together. No matter how long. You won’t forget me.”
She couldn’t pull her gaze away. His intensity was overpowering and hypnotic, enveloping her, binding her.
“Tell me,” he said softly. “You know it’s the truth. You’re part of me. You’ll always be with me. You’ll remember.”
How could she help it? No matter how their paths parted or intertwined, he’d been the first in so many ways, and the power of his personality had stunned and beguiled her. Even at that moment, she couldn’t imagine the days or years to come without him.
“I’ll remember you,” she whispered.
“That didn’t hurt, did it?” He smiled brilliantly. His arms closed tighter, and he kissed her. “The only thing that will hurt will be the waiting.” Then he put her back on the couch and got to his feet. “And I’ll cut that down to as little as possible.”
“I’m not going to wait for you. That’s a trap, too. And you won’t want to wait for me after you’ve been gone for a while.”
“I didn’t think I would, either. But things are changing. I’ll have to see.” He moved toward the door. “But one thing I do know. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before you. I’m not sure that I’ll ever feel like this again. I want to reach out and grab and hold on.” He opened the door. “But that’s my nature. Good-bye, Eve.”
“Good-bye, John.”
He was standing framed in the doorway as he had been framed by the elevator doors that first night. He was the same, yet not the same. Muscular thighs outlined in denim jeans, same face that was hard yet beautiful in its sensuality. But now she knew that body, that face, in a thousand different positions and expressions. She knew his toughness, his bluntness, his seductiveness, the bitterness that he seldom spoke about, the driving passion that could be as explosive as a lightning flash.
He wanted her to remember him?
This was how she’d remember John Gallo.
CHAPTER 6
The water. Stay out of the water. The current was so strong it would carry her away and over the falls.
Eve’s breath was coming in harsh pants that hurt her chest as she scrambled up the bank and into the brush.
Run.
A bullet took the bark off the oak next to her.
Close.
How could he see in this thick brush?
She heard the splashing in the river behind her. He wasn’t afraid of the current. Could the devil be afraid of anything?
“Eve!”
It was John Gallo. He caught up with her and grabbed her hand. “This way.”
“No!” She tried to pull away.
“Trust me.” He was gazing down at her, and he looked as desperate as she felt. His face was somehow… different. John’s face, yet not the John she knew. “I’ll find her. I won’t let you die. Trust me.”
“Why should I? When have we ever trusted each other?” She jerked her hand away and started to run again.
A moment later, another bullet grazed her hair, then embedded itself in the ground in front of her.
And she heard the sound of running footsteps behind her. Her heart was beating so hard it was jumping out of her chest. Find a way, or she was going to die.
Trust me.
Never.
Pain, high in her back…
She hadn’t heard that bullet.
Death?
EVE JERKED UPRIGHT ON THE couch, her eyes wildly searching the darkness.
Her pulse was racing, but the palms of her hands were cold. It took a minute for her to realize that she was not still in that deadly brush.
A dream?
But it had seemed so real. John Gallo had been gone nearly three weeks, but he had also seemed so real. Although it was a John Gallo she had never known. If she was going to dream about John, why wouldn’t it be sensual, sexual, and not a horrible, deadly chase that had ended her life. That was what her time with John had been all about. Sex, passion, and mindless pleasure that had ended with a desperate intensity that had almost frightened her.
And perhaps that was why she had dreamed of John as the pursuer, the enemy, just exaggerated and translated into a life-and-death struggle.
And all this soul-searching was crap over a simple nightmare. She swung her feet to the floor and got up and went to the bathroom. She drank a glass of water, then went back to the couch.
Go back to sleep. It was only a dream. She was doing fine. She was back in her routine of work and school and keeping herself so busy that she barely thought of John. It was as if that period was also a dream. It was probably good that she had experienced that passion then and not later. She could put it behind her and concentrate on work.
And that was crap, too. She was giving herself excuses, and there had been nothing calculated about what she’d done.
But it was over now, and she was doing just fine.
“YOU DON’T LOOK SO GOOD.” Teresa was gazing at Eve critically. “You got the flu or somethin’?”
“Maybe.” She finished the to-go order and set it on the warming shelf. “It’s going around.”
“Well, you’re white as that paper bag. Don’t breathe on me. I’ve had enough bugs this year.”
“I’ll stay away.” She wished Teresa would be quiet. Her head was pounding, and she was fighting against throwing up. The smell of frying hamburgers was making her stomach churn.
“You should go home. You gonna have to ride the bus?”
“How else?”
“I thought maybe John might be back in town. He’s been gone a couple months, hasn’t he? Have you heard from him?”
“No. I didn’t expect to hear from him.”
“Hot and heavy, then good-bye?” Teresa made a face. “Yeah, that’s the way it goes. But it can be worth it.”
“Maybe.”
“He had a real thing for you. I couldn’t get him to pay any attention to- Where are you going?”
Sick. So sick.
She barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up.
And then threw up again.
Lord, she felt awful.
She sank down to the floor beside the toilet.
She’d get up again soon, but she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her right now.
“Eve?”
Teresa.
“I’m okay. Go back to work.”
“You’re not okay.” She opened the door of the enclosure. “Can I get you a wet towel or something?”