The sensual fog cleared from his head and he frowned, suddenly aware of the tremors shaking her body. She clung to him, her face buried in his neck, a hot wetness dampening his skin. Caitlan's tears. His body tensed with alarm. God, had he hurt her somehow?
He rolled so she was beneath him, but she wouldn't let go of the hold she had around his neck. Gently, he pried her arms away so he could look into her face. Tears pooled her violet eyes and total devastation marked her expression. J.T. panicked. "Caitlan? Baby, what is it?"
She shut her eyes, releasing another trail of tears down the side of her face. Her breath caught on a ragged sob. "Amanda," she choked out.
His entire body coiled into a tense knot at the mention of Amanda's name. Remembering the last time they'd made love and she'd called him Johnny, irritation flowed like molten lava through his veins. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded.
Her eyes, glossy with tears, brimmed with a peculiar mixture of awe and torment. Slowly lifting her hand, she skimmed her fingertips over his jaw, her gaze searching his features as if seeing him for the first time. She swallowed thickly, a tentative smile working up the corner of her mouth. "I'm Amanda."
He jerked away from her cool touch as if burned by flame. Fury shot through him. "Stop it," he roared, brows drawn fiercely over his eyes.
She withdrew physically, the bedside lamp illuminating her startled expression. An eerie familiarity swirled around J.T., barraging his senses. He gazed down into beautiful violet eyes so like his Amanda's, had glimpsed the dimple both women possessed, and thought the crashing pressure in his chest would be his undoing. The need and connection he'd experienced with Caitlan had felt so damn real… He squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach churning with terror.
Oh, God, Amanda. But how could that be? He shook his head, wondering if he was going slowly insane. No! he raged inwardly. Amanda was dead, gone from this lifetime.
A spike of anger renewed his fortitude, and he moved away from Caitlan. Rolling off the bed to his feet, he snatched his jeans from the floor and yanked them on, one leg at a time.
"Dammit, Caitlan, what are you trying to pull?" He glared at her, grasping his ire with both hands, welcoming the heated fury in favor of the softening emotions threatening to engulf him. "If this is some kind of sick joke…"
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head wildly. "No." Sitting up, she reached for the bunched-up quilt and covered her naked body. Her eyes filled with hurt and confusion. "Johnny, I swear-"
"Don't call me that!" His jaw clenched so hard, his teeth hurt.
She shrank back at his harsh tone. The pain and vulnerability etched on her face nearly disarmed him, but he refused to fall for the act. What else could this whole farce be? Christ, he'd fallen in love with… an imposter. A fraud.
Cursing himself for a fool, he grabbed his shirt at the end of the bed and shrugged into it. His fingers worked the buttons quickly as he paced the floor in agitation. He zipped up his pants, sparing Caitlan a sharp glance. "Who put you up to this? Huh?" He was going to kill the bastard responsible for this sadistic prank.
Pushing the tangle of damp hair from her face, she drew a steady breath that did nothing to clear the uncertainty from her gaze. "My… my Superiors."
He came to an abrupt stop, staring at her incredulously. "Your what?"
She pressed shaky fingers to her temples and closed her eyes, a low groan of despair echoing in the room. "This is all so confusing," she whispered.
"Well, sort it out and fast," he snapped, jamming his hands on his hips. "I'm losing my patience real quick, Caitlan."
"Amanda," she corrected in a whisper.
Dropping his hands back to his sides, he curled his fingers into tight fists. "Explain yourself before I toss you out on your pretty little ass," he said in a slow, precise tone of voice.
She looked up at him, indecision in her gaze. Swirling deeper, he glimpsed a hopelessness that brushed the edge of his heart and made him want to give into the plea for understanding shining in her eyes.
Turning away, he walked to the window and glanced outside, seeing nothing but the murky darkness of night. Propping his shoulder against the wall, he faced her again. "I'm waiting."
Her fingers pleated the sheet in her lap. "I'm a… guardian angel."
He gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, that's a good one. I suppose you're going to tell me the next time I hear a bell ring, a friend of yours is getting his wings."
Her spine straightened in indignation, her eyes flashing violet fire. "Are you going to listen to me or not?"
"Go ahead." A humorless smile curved his mouth. "This tale should be as entertaining as the one you told me of how you got lost on Rafferty property." He was suddenly struck with the timely manner of her arrival on the Circle R. She'd claimed to save his life-just in the nick of time, from what she'd told him. There had been many inconsistencies in her story, but he'd had no proof other than to believe her. Could she truly be a guardian angel? His Amanda?
He studied her warily from across the room as she worried on her lower lip. He searched for something otherworldly to substantiate her claim, a soft heavenly glow about her, a shimmering halo-albeit crooked after her erotic interlude with him. Something. Anything. But all he saw were her huge violet eyes drenched with a vulnerable weariness.
He shook his head, hard. Oh, you're losing it, Rafferty. You're finally sailing over the edge. An angel, for chrissakes!
"Well?" he prompted.
"Can I get dressed before we discuss this?"
He wasn't letting her out of his sight. Considering her clothes were in the guest room, he grabbed a long-sleeved flannel shirt from his closet and tossed it next to her on the bed. She stared at the garment dumbly.
"Put it on," he said in a crisp tone. "It's as generous as I feel at the moment."
A slight blush rose on her cheeks, and she reached for the shirt. The quilt dropped to her waist, and he sucked in a breath at the creamy perfection of her breasts. His body leapt eagerly, responding swiftly to her beauty. The only thought in his mind was to tumble her back on the bed and forget this crazy conversation. Cursing his lack of willpower, he looked away while she dressed.
"My Superiors aren't going to be happy about this," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
Perplexed by her comment, he glanced back, relieved to see her clothed from neck to thigh. "What are you talking about?"
She bent down and retrieved her medallion from the floor. The shiny gold glittered with life and energy in her hand. She closed her fingers over the pendant and looked at him. "My angel Superiors. Chris and Mary. They're the ones who assigned me to this mission."
Drained from the events of the past couple of hours, J.T. sat down on the far corner of the bed, sighing heavily. He didn't know what to believe anymore, but one thing he did know for certain-Caitlan, or Amanda, or whoever the hell she was, did feel like a part of him, heart and soul. Still, Amanda as his guardian angel…?
He clasped his hands between his widespread legs, doing his best to keep an open mind for the explanation to come. "From the beginning, Caitlan."
Placing the medallion on the nightstand, she sat an arm's length away from him and began her tale. Her Superiors, he learned, were high-ranking angels who assigned missions and kept tabs on the activities down on earth. He listened to Caitlan as she explained how she'd seen him get hit in the head, how her Superiors didn't have anyone to send to earth to save him on such a last-minute crisis, and reluctantly agreed to send her to protect him. They'd suppressed her memory of her past with him and given her a new background and identity.
"I was never supposed to remember my past as Amanda," she concluded softly.