Charon's Crossing

"Don't you touch me! If you do—if you do..."

"Empty threats, Cat. There is no fool to do your bidding this time."

"I'll scream! I swear, I'll scream until everybody on this island hears me and comes running..." Kathryn blinked.

What in hell was she doing? She was talking to a man who wasn't here.

"You aren't here," she said calmly.

"Of course I'm here. Dammit, Cat..."

She ignored him, scooted down under the blanket and screwed her eyes shut.

"This dream is over."

Her voice was firm, except for a barely discernible tremor. She had courage, he had to give her that much, but then, he had not expected her to accept his appearance easily.

"You disappoint me," he said softly. "Is this the greeting I get after we have been apart for so long?"

Kathryn's eyes flew open.

"It hasn't been so long. Just since yesterday morning."

Dammit, that had been a stupid thing to say. Not that it mattered. In a dream as wacky as this one, you could say anything you liked.

Besides, her remark didn't seem to have struck him as being stupid. It hadn't even made him twitch a muscle. He was still looming over the bed, his arms akimbo and his hands splayed on his hips, looking down at her in a way that made her feel about two feet tall.

It would have been lots better to stand up and confront him, toe to toe, instead of having him tower over her. But she'd have to get out of bed to do that and all she had on under this blanket was her underwear.

"Oh hell," she said weakly.

She really was nuts. None of this was real. What did it matter if she was wearing her underwear or not?

She swept the blanket from the bed in one deft motion, wrapped it around herself with whatever finesse she could muster, and shot to her feet.

"Listen, mister—"

"Such formality, Cat." He smiled coolly. "I would much rather hear you say my name as you used to."

"I don't know your name. And even if I did—"

"Is your memory so short, then?" His smile tilted. "Say my name, Cat."

"I told you, I don't..."

She gasped as he reached out and clamped his hands around her shoulders.

"Say it, damn you," he growled. "Say, Matthew."

Kathryn swallowed dryly. Dream or not, she knew better than to argue with a lunatic.

"Matthew."

"You say it as if it were new to you, as if you have never before heard the name Matthew McDowell." His mouth twisted. "And that is what you will wish before I am done with you, Catherine. I promise you that."

Matthew McDowell, Kathryn thought wildly, a dream image who introduced himself to you.

Maybe she wasn't dreaming after all. Maybe she was simply stark, raving crazy.