Christmas Male(25)

Still, regardless of how similar their stories were, she had to be objective. Amanda Hemmings was the great-niece of the kind of thief who could have set up the attempted snatch of the Rubinov. Until they found out for sure if Amanda had been in contact with Arthur Franks, the innocent-looking private was looking pretty guilty.

She and D.C. had decided in the car that he would question Amanda. Since he’d met her a few times in General Eddinger’s office, she’d probably be more at ease with him. In other words, Fiona was to play bad cop. Usually, she relished the role.

Very deliberately, she moved to the foot of the bed and shifted her gaze to D.C. He was studying Hemmings also, and once again, he seemed to fill the space. It was more than his size and more than his aura of command. For her, the man was different. She’d only had to see him filling her doorway this morning to know that she’d made the only decision that she could.

Sex had always been pleasurable. But when she thought about making love to D.C, touching him, being touched by him, pleasure shot right into the pain zone.

Getting out of her apartment had been a struggle. From the moment she’d seen him through the crack in the door, she’d wanted him. It had taken all of her concentration to lay out the ground rules. When he’d talked about how quickly they could be in bed together, her knees had gone weak.

What would happen when they really did make love? She’d very nearly found out. When she’d grabbed her coat from him, she’d very nearly tossed it on the floor and jumped him.

And that wasn’t like her at all.

Perhaps she should have. The idea of it thrilled her. Perhaps that was the only way to put an end to this aching need inside of her.

“Amanda, can you hear me?”

Ruthlessly, Fiona forced her mind back to the job.

Amanda’s eyes fluttered open. Gradually, her initial disorientation faded and her gaze became fixed on D.C.

He covered one of her hands with his. “I’m Captain D. C. Campbell. I run the military police unit at Fort McNair. General Eddinger introduced us once.”

For a moment, she studied D.C. “I don’t…remember.”

“That’s all right.”

“No. No, it’s not.”

There was confusion in her voice, but it was the hint of panic that caught Fiona’s full attention.

D.C. smiled warmly at her. “I’m here with Lieutenant Gallagher to ask you about what happened last night in the sculpture garden.”

Amanda moistened her lips. “Sculpture garden…?”

“Right next to the National Gallery. You were at the National Mall distributing brochures for a toy drive to benefit the families of vets who are recuperating at Walter Reed. Do you remember that?”

There was a stretch of silence as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she turned her hand and gripped D.C.’s like a lifeline. “No. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” D.C.’s tone was gentle as he eased himself onto the edge of the bed. “Maybe you remember visiting one of the exhibits at the gallery. There’s a new one featuring a legendary diamond. The Rubinov has received quite a bit of attention from the press.”

“A diamond?”

“A big one. And it’s blue.”

“No. I…can’t…I—”

“Don’t try. Instead, why don’t you tell me what you do remember? Take your time.”

She drew in a deep breath. “I remember waking up a while ago. There was a woman next to my bed, and she told me I was in a hospital and I was going to be fine. Then I fell asleep again.”

“You don’t remember anything before that?”

“No…no. Who am I?”

“You’re Amanda Hemmings.”

Fiona kept her gaze fixed on the young woman while D.C. filled her in on what he knew, save for the part about finding the Rubinov diamond in her pocket. It was a very convenient time to have amnesia. Faking it would buy both Amanda and her accomplices time. But something deep in Fiona’s gut told her that what she was witnessing wasn’t a performance.

When D.C. had finished his summary of Amanda’s work history at Fort McNair, she asked, “Why can’t I remember?”

“You suffered a blow to the head. Your skull was fractured and you may have a concussion. The memory loss is probably temporary.” He slipped his hand from hers, took out a card, and put it on the stand next to the bed. “Just get some rest, and I’m betting you’ll start remembering things shortly. When you do, I want you to give me a call. Will you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Lieutenant Gallagher and I are going to let your doctor know that you’re having some memory problems. He’ll be able to explain it better to you than I can. We’ll check in with you later today.”