Roarke's Kingdom

“Well, you seem to be in one piece. You’re going to have one hell of a lump here, though.”

She hissed and pulled back from his hand when he touched her temple. The sudden motion made her stomach feel as if it were turning over.

“Does that hurt?”

“Of course it hurts.” Jennifer raised her hand to her face and touched the bruised spot gingerly. It was already swollen, and she could feel a faint trickle of something warm and wet on her fingertips. “Am I bleeding?”

“Yes. It’s just a little cut.” She felt the soft press of cloth against her skin. “Here, hold this against it for a couple of minutes.”

It was his handkerchief. The faint scent of a musky cologne rose to her nostrils, bringing with it a sudden disorientation.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “I’m fine. I just—I’ll feel better once I’m on my feet.”

He clasped her shoulders as she began to rise. “I don’t think you ought to get up just yet,” he said. “Why don’t you stay put while I get some help?”

“I don’t need any help.” Her voice was sharp. There was something about the way he held her that seemed familiar. If she could just concentrate on that… “I—I want to sit up. I know I’ll feel better when I do.”

She sensed his reluctance, but helped her sit and lean back against the car. “How’s that?”

“Better.” If only she could see his face, but the sun was still in her eyes. And her vision seemed weird. As if it wasn’t quite focused…

“You sure?”

“Positive.” She smiled shakily and held out his handkerchief. “I’ve probably ruined this.”

He laughed. The sound of it was vaguely unpleasant. “Don’t worry about it. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll have my insurance company tack it on to your bill.”

“My bill?”

“They should get a laugh out of it, anyway. Repairs to my Corvette, ten thousand dollars. One linen handkerchief, twenty bucks.”

Jennifer’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Just take a look at what you did to the front of my car.”

“You hit me,” she said, “I didn’t hit—”

“I hit your car, lady. Not you, although it’s a miracle I didn’t hit you. What the hell were you doing, standing in the middle of the road?”

“That won’t change the facts. You were speeding, and you ran into my car.”

“The facts are that you and your car were both where you shouldn’t have been.” He paused. “There’s something about you… Do we know each other?”

So he sensed it too. That familiarity…

Oh God! It was him. The security guy from Campbell’s!

“No,” she said quickly. “We do not.”

She began to get to her feet.

He put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m going? I’m standing up.”