She blinked, trying to bring the man’s face into focus.
But she felt so leaden, so disconnected. He bought me, she thought suddenly, he’s the man who paid for me! She reared up, wildly striking out at him.
Saint closed his hands around her shoulders and pressed her back down. ‘Don’t be afraid, Jules. It’s me – Michael. You’re safe now. You’re with me.’ She didn’t respond for a moment, and he continued softly, ‘Do you understand, Jules? You’re all right now, I promise you.’
‘Michael?’ she whispered, trying to focus her mind on his words.
Michael, he thought. Only Jules had called him Michael, and not Saint, and he’d remembered. ‘Yes, it’s Michael. You’ve been drugged, little one, but it will pass soon now.’
‘Michael-,’ she said again. Suddenly she knew who he was, and she felt a bolt
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of incredible, unexpected happiness surge through her. She nearly gasped aloud with pleasure and relief. ‘Oh God, it must have been a dream, a nightmare. All of it … it was nothing. You’re with me again. You’ve come back to me.’
Saint blinked, but had no chance to respond. Jules threw her arms about his chest, burying her face against his shoulder. She said over and over, ‘You’ve come back to me. I always prayed you would. You don’t know … so long since you left me, so long.’
‘No, no,’ he said gently, lightly touching his fingertips to her lips. ‘We’re not on Maui, Jules. We’re in San Francisco.’
But she was clutching at him, whispering, ‘I always loved you, always. You came back to me.
He grasped her arms and gently drew her away. He looked into her face and told himself that she didn’t realize what she was saying. ‘Listen to me, Jules. We’re in San Francisco. I … well, I got you away from Jameson Wilkes and that godawful auction. You’re safe with me now, in my house.’
‘You saved me, Michael?’ She reached for him again, and he eased her against hin,15 gently rocking her. He pressed his cheek against her wildly curling hair. ‘You really saved me?’
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‘Yes, and you’re safe now.’
Jules felt his large hands stroking down her back, pressing her more closely against his chest. She felt no fear. She felt secure and warm and happy. Her thoughts were tangled, the past intermingling with the present, and all she could grasp was her love for this man. ‘I love you, Michael,’ she whispered yet again. ‘You saved me.’
‘No, Jules, you don’t love me’ Saint managed. ‘Hush, now. Would you like a glass of water?’
She didn’t want water. She wanted Michael. She’d wanted him forever, it seemed now. He was holding her, caressing her. His hands were making her feel strange sensations
– very pleasant, mysterious sensations that she didn’t want to stop. She raised her hand to lightly touch his face. ‘Michael,’ she whispered. She raised herself and kissed him.
Saint stiffened, appalled at what was happening. It was that damned drug Wilkes had given her. He had to get away from her. He felt her soft lips and experienced a surge Of desire for her.
‘Jules, no,’ he began, but she pressed herself against him and he felt her breasts full and soft against his chest.
‘Ive always loved you, Michael., and now
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you’ve saved me. I belong to you. Please, Michael.’
Please what, for God’s sake? He struggled for reason. ‘Listen to me, Jules. You’ve been drugged, sweetheart. It’s the opium that’s making you act and feel like this. We’ve got to –‘
Her soft mouth covered his again, and he heard his own low moan. He didn’t know how it happened, but he was lying on the bed, Jules clutched against the length of him. ‘Dammit!’he said aloud. He tried to hold her still, but she was writhing against him, pressing herself more closely, as if she wanted to become part of him. He had to do something, dammit! What had that bastard Wilkes given her? What had been added to the opium?
He drew a ragged breath. He knew she was beyond reason, caught in a dream world of urgent passion. He also guessed that if it had been anyone else who had saved her, this wouldn’t be happening. But he was her Michael from five years ago, and it was all tangled in her mind. But none of it was real, none of it.