Racing Against the Clock Page 22

  She suddenly had so much verve. So much energy. Amazing. Where had it come from? During the avalanche emergency, Hannah had worked herself to the point of collapse. He had feared for her health. But now, she seemed completely normal. Tyler was stupefied by the changes in her.

  “You are unbelievable.” How was it that he had found this marvelous woman? And why now? When their lives were so complicated by external forces they could not control?

  “How so?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “You’re a dream come true.”

  “So are you.” She hiccuped, then grinned and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops.”

  He leaned closer and pulled her into his arms. “I know a surefire cure for hiccups.”

  “You do?” Her eyes widened.

  He slid his tongue past her lips. Her laughter dissipated.

  God, she tasted so good! Like wine and honey and heat. He kissed her. Hard and long and thoroughly.

  “Wow,” she murmured, when he broke the kiss. “Wow.”

  “How’s the hiccups?”

  “They’re gone,” she marveled.

  “Voilà.”

  “Magic cure.”

  “Just call me Dr. Love.”

  “Well, medicine man.” She reached out for his hand and tucked it between her legs. Tyler’s heart leapfrogged. “I’ve got this ache. Right here. Have you got a remedy?”

  “Have I got a remedy!” He pulled her smack-dab onto his lap. Her thighs straddled his. “You tell me,” his voice grew husky. “Do I have the cure for what ails you, sweetheart?”

  “Oh my.” Her fingers searched for his arousal, and wrapped around him.

  “Uh.” Tyler grunted at the intensity of the sensation. He cupped the soft curves of her bottom in both hands and tugged her closer.

  Her breasts bobbed above the water, shimmering with wetness, her nipples sweetly puckered. Tyler lowered his head, placed his mouth over first one pink straining nipple and then the other. Her hands went to his shoulders, her fingernails digging lightly into his flesh as she moaned with pleasure.

  She bumped against him with her pelvis. “My ache, Dr. Love, it’s getting worse. You better do something. Quick.”

  “I’m a doctor who likes to take my time.”

  He watched a trail of perspiration trickle between her breasts. He licked it, savoring the saltiness of her heated skin. He lowered his hand, came up behind her bottom and slowly began to stroke her between her firm, supple thighs.

  She made soft keening noises that told him she was winding up for something incredible.

  “Make love to me, Tyler. Now. Right now,” she pleaded.

  Happy to oblige, he lifted her higher in the water and up onto his bludgeoning erection, sliding deep into her sweetness. She hissed in her breath. Tyler closed his eyes, relishing the glory of their joining, relishing Hannah.

  “Kiss me,” she commanded.

  He roamed his mouth over hers, sucking, licking, reveling in her warm moistness. He slipped his tongue inside, feeling the rough edges of her teeth, tasting the wine’s tart sweetness.

  She moaned, and then leaned back, breaking their kiss. He held on to her with both hands wrapped securely around her waist. She moved over him, using her knees as a fulcrum to deepen his penetration.

  They soared together on the wildest of roller-coaster rides, lurching steadily higher and higher, anticipating what was coming next, knowing there would be a frantic plunge, hurtling down into ecstasy as they climaxed together in one powerful shudder.

  Tyler finally floated down from the upper reaches of passion, his breathing hard, his mind scrambled.

  Hannah lay draped over him, her face buried against his neck, her wet hair sticking to her face. From the waist up they were drenched in sweat. From the waist down, they were drained.

  Chagrined, he realized that they had forgotten about birth control. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have allowed himself to get so carried away? It wasn’t that he minded the thought of a baby. In fact, a warm shimmering settled in his stomach at the idea. But Hannah’s health was unstable. Her future uncertain. He didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize her.

  Looking at the sweet face that had become so dear to him in such a short time, Tyler’s heart wrenched.

  “Hannah,” he whispered, nudging her mildly.

  “Huh?” She barely lifted her head and squinted at him.

  “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve been in here far too long.” He scooped up a palm full of warm water from the whirlpool and gently bathed her face with it.

  “I’m paralyzed,” she giggled. “My legs won’t work.”

  “You’ve had too much wine.”

  “Not the wine.” She grinned. “Too much Tyler. No, wait.” She lifted a finger. “There’s no such thing as too much Tyler.”

  Her levity was infectious. Was this the serious-minded scientist he had first given refuge to at his beach house? Hard to believe she had such a light, engagingly endearing aspect to her reserved personality. He could get very used to this.

  He stepped from the Jacuzzi, tugging her after him. She giggled again and slumped against him. He looked at her, tenderness overwhelming him. He wished he could bottle these last few carefree hours and save them forever.

  Because no matter how much he wanted to deny it, they had some very big issues to overcome. Insurmountable issues. Suddenly saddened, Tyler scooped her into his arms, carried her to the bed and made love to her all over again, trying his damnedest to block out the desperate ache dominating his every move.

  Long after Tyler fell into a deep sleep, Hannah lay beside him battling the abiding pain in her heart. They’d had so much fun tonight. Too much fun. They had made love, bonded emotionally, and become as intimate as two people could become.

  She loved this man more than she had ever loved anything or anyone. Leaving him was going to be the toughest thing she had ever done, but she had no choice. Even though she felt pretty good right now, Hannah had no doubt her dizziness, malaise and headaches would return. She would continue to get weaker and weaker, sicker and sicker. Wasting away before Tyler’s eyes.

  She didn’t have much time left. Tyler’s blood transfusion had bought her some time, yes, but it was not a panacea. Hannah recognized that fact and faced it with scientific fatalism. Even if by some miracle she did manage to stumble upon an antidote, it would most probably be too late to save her life.

  But she had little choice. She would return to Marcus’s lab alone and try to concoct a remedy. As it was, she refused to torment him by forcing him to witness her steady decline. He had already suffered so much, watching Yvette die, she wasn’t about to put him through that agony all over again. Much kinder to slip out of his life unannounced.

  She looked over at him, admired his sleeping form, his chiseled features. Leaving him was an agonizing choice. She hurt clean through her bones and could not have suffered more if a limb had been ruthlessly severed from her body.

  Disassociate, disconnect, disengage.

  She recited the chant her mother had taught her those many years ago as a way to repress her feelings. But this time, the familiar mantra did not work.

  How could she disassociate herself from the man who was the other half of her soul?

  Distressed, Hannah bit down on the back of her hand, seeking to assuage her emotional pain with a physical one.

  It didn’t work, either.

  She had to find a way to separate herself from the gale-force emotions threatening to blow her into uncharted terrain.

  Hannah lay still, listening to the slow steady rhythm of his breathing, unconsciously matching it. She drifted. Caught in a web of unending anguish. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave. The time was now.

  When she was absolutely certain that he would not awaken, she slipped from the bed, gathered up her clothes and slipped into the bathroom to get dressed. It was the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but she had to do it.

&nb
sp; The avalanche had blocked the only road into Taos, but the perimeter of the snow slide was fairly narrow. She could take the snowmobile they’d confiscated at Marcus’s place and maneuver around the snow slide. The thought of going out into the darkness alone was terrifying but she had no other option. She must go.

  For Tyler’s sake.

  Tears misted her eyes as she tiptoed back through the bedroom again. She stopped at the foot of the bed and for the longest moment stood watching him sleep.

  He was incredibly handsome. Any woman’s fantasy mate. He’d helped her when no one else would have. Seeing him bare to the waist, one arm thrown across his forehead, she resisted the powerful urge to crawl up beside him and rest her weary head on his strong shoulders. Turning, she forced herself to walk out of the room.

  And out of his life forever.

  Before heading for the front door and the snowy weather beyond, Hannah detoured to the kitchen, stuffing a sack with provisions—bottled water, raisins, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter. She acknowledged, with a forlorn pang, this food would most probably be her last. Tears trickled down her face, hot and fast. She swiped them away with the back of her hand, bolstered her courage by reminding herself she was doing this to spare Tyler the agony of watching her die.

  With trembling hands, she sat down at the kitchen table to write him a note, but the words would not come. There was so much she wanted to say but had no idea where to start. Finally she simply wrote:

  I’ll never forget you.

  Leaving the note propped up against the salt and pepper shakers, she pulled her parka from the closet, put it on and zipped it up. She slipped her gloves over her fingers, jammed her feet into snow boots, then shouldered the backpack. She hesitated in the doorway, glancing one last time toward the bedroom.

  “I’ll always love you,” she whispered aloud even though he could not hear her. “Always.”

  She waded outside into the knee-deep drifts and closed the door tightly behind her. With her heart breaking into a thousand pieces, she took the key from her pocket, and climbed onto the snowmobile they had left parked under the chalet’s eaves. She allowed the engine to idle for a while, then put the snowmobile into gear and drove away into the dark, lonely silence of the New Mexico Rockies, preparing to sacrifice her own life in order to bring down Lionel Daycon and his evil CIA counterpart.

  “Hannah?” Tyler stumbled from the bedroom, rubbing his eyes, when he’d awakened to find her gone. “Hannah, where are you?”

  He flicked on the light in the kitchenette and stood there blinking against the glare for a moment. Then he spied the note propped against the salt and pepper shakers.

  Snatching up the note, he read the four short words. I’ll never forget you. His heart ripped.

  “Hannah,” he bellowed. Crumpling the note, he tossed it to the floor and went rampaging back through the bedroom. He searched under the bed, peered in the closet, double-checked the bathroom, but he knew she was gone.

  Dammit! She’d left him.

  I’ll never forget you.

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Why has she taken off? He thought that after all they’d shared she’d let down the last vestiges of her fears and had finally trusted him.

  But no. He was alone.

  Totally and completely alone.

  He hadn’t felt this lonely or this desolate since losing Yvette.

  Hannah had left him.

  Well, he wasn’t going to accept it. Tyler tugged on his blue jeans and a thick cable-knit sweater. He was going after her. They were a team, and one way or the other he was determined to make her see that.

  A knock sounded at the door of the chalet. It was after midnight. Who could it be?

  Hannah? His heart leapt with hope. Had she realized her mistake and come back? He hurried to the foyer just as the knock sounded again.

  “Dr. Fresno, it’s an emergency,” came a male voice from the other side of the door.

  He sighed. Not Hannah after all. It was probably the intern needing advice about one of the avalanche victims. “I’m coming.”

  A blast of arctic air hit him when he opened the door, but that wasn’t all. One tall, thick-waisted man tackled him, knocking him to the floor. The next thing Tyler knew he was staring up into the barrel of a very nasty-looking handgun, clutched in the hammy fist of a second man who looked like Robert De Niro in Raging Bull—broken nose, cauliflower ear, crazy eyes.

  “Don’t move.”

  The first man was on his feet and lumbering toward the bedroom, dusting off his pants as he went and tracking slushy footprints in the carpet behind him.

  A deathly cold calmness came over Tyler as he assessed his chances for overpowering the gunman. He was quick and he was strong, but the guy had some fifty pounds on him, not to mention some serious firepower. Hannah was out there alone somewhere. If he got killed, she would have no one. He could not afford to go off half-cocked. What he needed was an escape plan.

  The first man trotted back into the main room. “She ain’t in there, man.”

  “What do you mean, she ain’t here?” Cauliflower Ear asked. “She’s gotta be here.”

  The first guy shook his head. “I looked everywhere. Not in the bed, nor the bathroom, neither.”

  They both turned to look at the kitchen only a few feet in front of them. It was obvious no one was hiding there. The first guy did a walk around and came back with Hannah’s crumpled note.

  “Looks like he’s telling the truth. It’s a Dear John letter.”

  “Gimme that.” The other thug tugged the paper from the first. “I’ll never forget you,” he read in a derisive voice. “That don’t mean she left him. It could be a trick. Didja look in the closets?”

  The first guy nodded.

  Cauliflower Ear swore colorfully, then turned his attention to Tyler. “Where is she?”

  “You read the note. You know as much as I do.”

  “Don’t get cute with me, medicine man.” He raised a threatening hand. “Where’d she go?”

  Raw anger, pure in its intensity, shot through Tyler. He would not let these goons get their hands on Hannah. Acting on gut instinct, he cocked his knee and slammed his foot squarely in the man’s groin.

  Cauliflower Ear shrieked, dropped his gun and sank to the floor on his side, desperately trying to suck in a wheezy breath.

  The other guy hurried over and kicked Tyler in the ribs before he could scramble to his feet and dive for the loose weapon.

  “Uh.” Air left his body in one painful explosion. The thug kicked him again. This time in the head. A multitude of stars burst inside his brain. Red, white, yellow, orange. Blindly, he got to his hands and knees and crawled for the open door.

  “Not so fast, Doctor.”

  Another boot to the head.

  Tyler grunted and his knees gave way. He found himself sprawled alongside Cauliflower Ear who was still writhing in pain.

  “Come on now. Fess up. Where is she?” The first thug squatted beside him, arm draped over a broad thigh, gun held in his hand.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Let’s try this again.” The thug grabbed Tyler by the hair, raised his face up off the carpet and punched him hard in the right eye.

  His teeth jarred together at the impact. Okay, maybe this was the guy who could pass for Jack LaMotta, not the one on the floor.

  “Does that help your memory any? Or should I blacken the other eye?”

  Knowing he was going to regret it, Tyler opened his mouth and told the goon exactly what sex act he could perform upon himself.

  A hammy fist smashing into his left eye was the last thing Tyler remembered.

  Without Tyler beside her, Marcus’s desolate, destroyed home looked even worse than it had before. The garbage that had just begun to smell two days earlier had ripened into an overpowering stench that forced her to slap her hand over her nose and mouth while she picked her way over the debris on her way into Marcus’s base
ment laboratory.

  A spike of lonely devastation drove through her. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how much comfort she had drawn from Tyler’s calming presence. Not having him beside her forced Hannah to admit how much she had come to rely upon him in such a very short time.

  “Tyler,” she said aloud, “I wish you were here.”

  Dejected, Hannah descended to the freezing cold basement, then slumped into the worn leather chair parked behind a desk strewn with papers. What on earth had she been thinking? Slipping away in the darkness, leaving Tyler without a proper explanation for her behavior. Had he awakened and discovered her gone yet? It was almost dawn. Was he at this very moment reading her letter, agonizing over her departure? Was his heart, like hers, in shreds?

  Or was he relieved to be free of her and the trouble she had put him through?

  Don’t be silly, Hannah, he loves you.

  Yes, a thousand times, in a thousand different ways Tyler had proven his love for her. Idly, Hannah tapped on the desk with a pencil. Maybe that was the issue. Maybe she couldn’t tolerate being loved. She had never had love and she didn’t know how to deal with it.

  There you go again. Putting up a wall, making excuses, running away from your feelings.

  Love.

  A truly wondrous emotion, but one that carried with it so many responsibilities. Her parents had been cold and unemotional. They had never shown her how to love. But she had learned that if you loved, then you had an obligation to share yourself. No secrets. No holding back. If she loved him then she had to give her all.

  Was that the real reason she had left? Not, as she had told herself, to save him from pain. But rather, had she run away because she had no idea how to open up and tell him the things she felt deep inside? Because she still didn’t really trust him to accept her unconditionally?

  Hannah sank her head in her hands. Surely she wasn’t that shallow, so afraid of getting hurt that she would abandon Tyler simply to keep from revealing her true self to him. A self he might find unpleasantly lacking in admirable qualities.

  Conflicted, she curled her hands around the edges of Marcus’s desk and frowned.