His Mysterious Ways Read online

  “I’m afraid not. There’s nothing I can do at the moment, either, so I suppose I should just try and put it out of my mind.” Until Dr. Wilder returns, she silently added. Then all hell would break loose. Blanca seemed to forget that Melanie knew about the rebel soldiers they’d treated, and so had her own leverage. And she would use that leverage to find out where Angel had been taken.

  “Can I ask you something, Melanie?” Bond’s blue eyes regarded her with a curious gleam. “Why spend your vacation volunteering at a medical clinic when you could be off having some fun? You said you wanted to visit the Mayan ruins and the cloud forest. I’ll bet you haven’t done either.”

  “There’s still time. And besides, I like working at the clinic. It’s the nearest I can get to being a doctor.”

  Bond’s brows rose in surprise. “You want to be a doctor?”

  She shrugged. “I did.”

  “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  She tried not to sigh. “I lost my focus, I guess. I let things distract me.”

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re young. You could still go to medical school if you wanted.”

  “Maybe. But sometimes I think it wasn’t meant to be. If I’d wanted it badly enough, I wouldn’t have given up on it so easily.”

  “We all make mistakes. God knows I’ve made my share.” Bond picked up his drink. “Some are more obvious than others, of course. Alcoholism and addiction run in my family, but I’m not trying to make excuses for my weaknesses. One has to accept responsibilities for one’s own actions. But I can only imagine what you must think of me.”

  “I’m not exactly in a position to throw stones,” Melanie said softly. “I’ve battled a few demons myself.”

  “But you’ve conquered them.”

  “I don’t know that you can ever really conquer them. You just try to keep them at bay one day at a time.”

  His smile seemed wistful. “You’re obviously a very strong-willed young woman. I admire that.”

  “Don’t,” Melanie said with a grimace. “If I were the kind of person you should admire, I’d be a doctor right now.”

  He shook his head. “I think you vastly underrate yourself, Melanie. And I suspect it’s because you’ve had an unhappy life. For that, I’m truly sorry.”

  Melanie’s heart jumped at his words. “Why should you be sorry?” she asked slowly. “You hardly know me.”

  He paused, his gaze dropping. “I’m sorry because there might have been a time when I could have helped you. But that time has passed. I see that now.”

  Melanie leaned forward, the nerves in her stomach tightening at the little dance they seemed to be doing. “Why do I keep getting the feeling you’re trying to tell me something? Why won’t you just say it?”

  He suddenly looked indescribably sad. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked a little desperately.

  He rose. “I think it’s best if I leave you now.”

  “No, don’t.” Melanie stood, too, and reached for his arm. “Don’t go. Not yet. Please. If you have something to tell me, just say it.”

  Gently he removed her hand from his arm. “You came to Santa Elena looking for someone, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, her breath in her throat.

  “I’m not that person, Melanie. I’m not the man you’re looking for.”

  He turned then and walked quickly across the terrace to the street. Melanie called out his name once, but he didn’t turn, and for some reason, she didn’t go after him.

  I’m not that person, Melanie.

  Then who was he? If he was nothing more than a stranger, why did he seem to know so much about her?

  And if he was her father, why wouldn’t he tell her? She’d given him every opportunity. She’d practically begged him to say it. But something had held him back.

  Melanie caught one last glance of him as he hurried down the street. He walked with his head down, his shoulders stooped, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Whether he was her father or not, she couldn’t help feeling compassion for Angus Bond, because she’d been where he was now.

  When he disappeared around a corner, she turned away. But as her gaze shifted, she caught a glimpse of a man standing across the street in the shadow of a building. For a moment, something about him, the way he stood, made her think he was Lassiter, but she almost immediately realized her mistake.

  It was the man she’d seen at breakfast the day before. The one who’d stared at her so strangely.

  Melanie could feel his gaze on her now. He was watching her in a way that made gooseflesh prickle her bare arms.

  Was that why Angus Bond had rushed away? Had he seen the stranger, too? Had he recognized him?

  Unnerved by the man’s surveillance, Melanie paid for the drinks and hurried away from the café. Twice during her short walk back to the hotel, she glanced over her shoulder, but she didn’t spot him again.

  Once inside the lobby, she strode toward the elevator, anxious now to be back in her room. Not that her room was exactly a safe haven. But Lassiter had told her earlier that he would call her tonight. Or maybe even come by. And suddenly Melanie wanted more than anything to see him. To be in the security of his arms.

  That stopped her for a moment.

  Security in Lassiter’s arms? Wasn’t that a contradiction?

  A hand fell on her shoulder, and Melanie turned with a start. She immediately jerked away when she saw who it was. The stranger who’d been staring at her.

  He was tall, as tall as Lassiter, with broad shoulders and powerful-looking arms. He had dark hair, dark eyes. He was a very handsome man. Handsome…and dangerous.

  “Why are you following me?” she demanded angrily.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in a voice as deep and dark as his eyes. “I just want to talk to you.”

  “If you don’t get lost, I’ll start screaming,” Melanie warned. “Right after I rip out your heart with my bare hands.”

  Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “I believe you would, too. But no need for violence. As I said, I don’t mean you any harm.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “Just to talk. Can we go somewhere private?”

  “Sure,” Melanie said. “Why don’t I just follow you down some dark alley?”

  He grinned. “Okay, someplace public, then. How about over there?” He nodded to a table and chairs placed in an alcove off the lobby. “Please,” he said when she continued to resist. “This won’t take long.”

  Melanie frowned. “I don’t even know who you are. So what could we possibly have to talk about?”

  He hesitated for the space of a heartbeat. “How about Jon Lassiter, for starters?”

  She sucked in her breath. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Deacon Cage. Look, can we just sit down for a minute? This won’t take long, I promise.”

  Melanie didn’t want to go with the man. Something about him made her distinctly uneasy. But the alcove, though designed for private conversation, was in full view of the lobby. Surely he wouldn’t dare try anything with so many witnesses present. And God help him if he did. Melanie hadn’t taken up kick boxing for nothing.

  Reluctantly, she allowed him to lead her to the table and they both sat down. “What do you know about Jon Lassiter?”

  “I know that he survived a terrible accident,” Cage said.

  Melanie’s stomach quivered. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I was on that submarine with him.”

  She stared at him in shock.

  “There were eight of us who survived,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to track all the others down.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there are still a lot of unanswered questions about what happened to us. About our mission. No one seems to know why we were even on that sub. Our memories were erased, and I’d like to know why.”

&nbs
p; “And you think Lassiter knows more than you do? He doesn’t.”

  Cage nodded, as if something she’d said proved a point. “He confided in you, didn’t he?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “If he confided in you, that means he trusts you.”

  Melanie glared at him. “Again, how is that any of your business?”

  “Because I’m not just here to talk about Lassiter,” Cage said. “I’m here because I think you can help us.”

  Melanie’s suspicion deepened. “Us?”

  “I represent a group of people who have a vested interest in the welfare of the survivors of that submarine.”

  “What group?”

  “It’s a little hard to explain.”

  “Maybe you’d better try,” she said coolly.

  He drew a breath as if not quite knowing where to start. “After we were rescued and resuscitated, we underwent intense mind control and brainwashing sessions to erase all memories of our mission and our training. But it went even further than that. We were also made to forget what they’d done to us at Montauk.” A shadow flickered in his eyes. “They made us forget, but they couldn’t deprogram what they’d taught us to do. Some of us have used those abilities for…well, let’s just say, not for the good of humanity. Some of us have crossed over to the dark side.”

  Melanie felt hysterical laughter bubbling up inside her. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

  “About as ridiculous as your ability to walk through walls, I’d say. Or to phase yourself in and out of dimensions.”

  The desire to laugh faded, leaving Melanie with a deep chill. She didn’t particularly like Deacon Cage, but she couldn’t tear herself away from him, either. “I still don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I told you. We want you to help us save Jon Lassiter.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “Save him from what?”

  “From the dark side. From himself. Whatever you want to call it.” Cage leaned toward her. “Whatever happened on that sub changed us. I’m not just talking about the brainwashing, the memory loss. I’m talking about a fundamental change in our souls. Lassiter walks a fine line.”

  The look in his eyes turned Melanie’s blood to ice. “Even if that were true, how am I supposed to save him?”

  “By giving him something to lose. You and Lassiter have a connection. Use it.”

  Her heart started to pound in agitation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. Why do you think the two of you ended up here in Santa Elena? It can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

  He was asking the same question Melanie had been asking herself, but it frightened her to hear Deacon Cage say it. He frightened her.

  “What do you remember about Montauk?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  He peered into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  She fought the instinct to shrink back from him. “Of course I’m sure.” But even as she voiced the denial, something strange seemed to be happening in her head. The noise of the lobby faded, Deacon Cage faded, and suddenly all Melanie could hear was the sound of sobbing. It was coming from somewhere nearby. It was coming from her.

  She was in a cagelike enclosure where the two men who had kidnapped her from her backyard had brought her. She sat on the cold floor, knees drawn up to her chest, arms around her legs as she rocked back and forth.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  The voice came from the enclosure nearest to Melanie’s. She lifted her head, and saw a boy of about ten gazing back at her. She could guess his age because he looked to be about the size of the kid who lived next door to her. That kid had just had his tenth birthday party in his backyard a few days ago, and Melanie had spied on him and his friends through the fence.

  She wondered now if she would be home in time for her own birthday party. The thought of home, of her parents waiting for her there, made her cry even harder.

  “What’s your name?” the boy called softly.

  She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “M-Melanie.”

  “My name’s Han Solo,” he said proudly.

  “That’s not your name!”

  “Sure, it is.”

  “You’re silly,” Melanie said.

  “Maybe. And maybe I shouldn’t be wasting my time with a pissy little kid like you, anyway.”

  Melanie was suddenly sorry she’d called him silly. She was sorry he’d moved so far back inside his enclosure that she could no longer see him.

  She scooted close to the bars, peering into the shadows. “Are you still there?”

  There was a long pause, and then a sullen voice said, “Of course, I’m still here. Not like I can exactly leave whenever I want.”

  “I have a cat named Daisy,” she offered shyly.

  “A cat, huh?” He moved back to the bars so that she could see him, although it was too dark for her to make out his features. “What color?”

  “White.”

  “Black cats are better,” he said.

  Melanie didn’t argue. After a little while, she said, “I’m cold.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “Who doesn’t?” he said sagely.

  “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t think about it. Just try to get some sleep.”

  “I’m too scared to sleep.” She began to cry again.

  “Here, take my hand.” He stretched his arm through the bars toward her.

  “W-why?”

  “Just see if you can reach it.”

  Melanie put her arm through the bars, stretching as far as she could to touch him. When their fingers brushed, he closed his hand warmly over hers and didn’t let go.

  “Just hold on tight,” he said. “As long as you can feel my hand, you’ll be safe. I’ll watch out for you while you sleep.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear.”

  Melanie’s tears subsided, and after a few moments, she lay down on the floor and slept.

  WHEN SHE AWOKE, the darkness disoriented her. She glanced around. There was a dresser. A desk. French doors through which moonlight glimmered.

  She was back in her hotel room. But how? When?

  Someone lay in bed beside her, and Melanie gasped, pulling the covers up over her naked body.

  Lassiter rolled over and put an arm around her waist, trying to draw her to him. When she resisted, he murmured against her shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He opened his eyes. “What?”

  She jerked the covers up to her neck. “You can’t just phase into my room and crawl into my bed whenever you feel like it, you know.”

  He propped himself on his elbow. “What the hell are you talking about? I knocked on the door and you let me in.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  She stared at him in confusion. “Then what are you still doing here? It must be late.”

  “I told you earlier. I’m not going back to the compound tonight. I’ve arranged with Kruger to be away for a couple of days. I’m here because I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any more unwelcome visitors.” When she didn’t say anything, he frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m not sure. I feel kind of strange.” She put a hand to her head. “I don’t remember you coming to my room, Lassiter. I don’t even remember how I got to my room.”

  “Next you’ll be telling me you don’t remember what we did here,” he said in a voice that sent a tremor rippling along her nerve endings.

  “You mean we—” She broke off as images flashed strobelike through her head. The two of them kneeling, naked, on her bed. Her back arched into his chest. His hands coming around to cup her breasts. His mouth on her neck. Something hard pressing between her legs…

  “It’s coming back to me now,” she murmured.

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nbsp; “I should hope so.”

  She lay back against her pillow. “I had the weirdest dream just now.”

  “It must have been,” Lassiter said dryly.

  “I was down in the lobby when a stranger approached me. He said he needed to talk to me, but I don’t think I dreamed that part.”

  Lassiter lay on his side, watching her. “What did he want?”

  “His name was Deacon Cage, and he said he’d been on board the submarine with you. He said there were six other survivors besides you and him, and that he’s been trying to track all of you down. He represents a group of people who have a vested interest in your welfare.” She paused. “Stop staring at me like that. That’s what he said.”

  “What did he want with you?”

  “He said he needed my help.”

  “To do what?”

  She slanted him a glance. “To help save you.”

  Lassiter’s brows rose. “Save me from what?”

  “The dark side,” she said meekly.

  He tried to keep a straight face. “Don’t tell me. His name was Obi-Wan Kenobi, right?” At her blank look, he said, “Star Wars? Darth Vader? The Dark Side?”

  “Funny you should mention Star Wars because there was a boy in my dream who called himself Han Solo.”

  “This just gets better and better.” Lassiter rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “So how again is it that you’re supposed to keep me from turning to the dark side?”

  “By…” …making you fall in love with me, Melanie almost blurted. But for some reason, she couldn’t say it aloud. She could hardly even bring herself to think it.

  “By…?” he prompted.

  “By using my womanly wiles, I suppose.”

  He gave her a look that made her heart start to pound. “I might not be opposed to that.”

  Melanie shivered at the deep, sexy timbre of his voice. “No? Not even if I were to…say…do this?” She trailed a finger down his flat stomach, feeling his muscles tighten as she continued a downward journey. “Any objections so far?”

  He sucked in a breath. “Hell, no.”

  She found him, encircled him, and he groaned deeply as she moved over him, letting her lips follow her hand.