Diamond Bay by Linda Howard

gets ahead of me. Oh – did you find anything
yesterday?"
    His face was a blank mask, though his eyes were once again peering
at her cart. "No, nothing. It may have been a false lead."
    "Well, good luck. Remember to get a cap or something while
you're here."
    "Sure. Thanks."
    She joined one of the lines at the
row of checkout counters and selected a magazine to flip through while she waited, gradually nudging the cart forward. He had moved to the side and was looking at paperback books. Damn,
would he never leave? When it came her time, she unloaded the cart and tried to
keep her body between Lowell and the counter. The clerk picked up the package
of undershorts and held them in front of her while she punched in the code
number on the computerized cash register. Rachel shifted to that side, and when
the clerk set the package down she pushed a shirt over it. Lowell was moving
closer.
    "One-forty-six eighteen," the clerk said, reaching for a
large bag.
    Rachel checked her wallet, inwardly grimacing. She seldom carried
that much cash, and this was no exception. Disgruntled, she plunked down a
plastic credit card and the clerk ran it through the imprinting machine, then
called to get an okay on the amount. Lowell had walked around to the front of
the store and was coming down in front of the checkout counters. Rachel grabbed
the bag the clerk had laid on the counter and began shoving her purchases into
it.
    "Sign here," the clerk said, pushing the credit slip
toward her. Rachel scribbled her name and a moment later the bag was stapled
shut. She loaded it in the cart and began wheeling it out of the store.
    "Need any help?" Lowell asked, falling into step beside
her.
    "No, rolling it in the cart is easier than carrying it.
Thanks, anyway."
    The humid heat settled on them
like a suffocating blanket as soon as they left the cool confines of the store,
and Rachel squinted her eyes against the almost painful brightness. After
opening the trunk of the car she dumped the bag in and slammed the lid shut,
agonizingly aware of Lowell 's acute interest.
    She pushed the cart to a buggy-return stand, then walked back to
the car. "Goodbye," she said casually.
    He was still watching as she drove out of the lot. Rachel wiped
the perspiration off her face, aware that her heart was thudding in a panicky
rhythm. She was out of practice for this! She only hoped he hadn't been too
suspicious.

Chapter Five
     
    The dreams were still so vivid
that it was several minutes before he realized he was awake, but awareness did
not necessarily bring understanding. He lay
quietly, looking around the cool, dim, unfamiliar room and groping for any
details in his mind that would give him a hint of what was going on and where
he was. There seemed to be no connection between his only memories and this
silent room. But were they memories, or dreams? He had dreamed of a woman, a
warm and pliant woman, with eyes as clear and gray as a highland lake under
cloudy skies, her hands tender as she caressed him, her velvety breasts
swelling against his palms. His fingers twitched on the sheets; the dream was
so real he almost ached to feel her under his hands.
    Still, that had been only a dream, and he had to deal with
reality. He lay there until certain things began to return, and he knew that they weren't dreams. The attack on his boat; the endless, agonizing swim in the
dark, driven on by his own sheer inability to give up. Then, after that…
nothing. Not even a glimmer of what had happened.
    Where was he? Had he been captured? They would give almost
anything, risk almost anything, to take him alive.
    He moved cautiously, his mouth setting grimly at the amount of
effort it took. There was pain in his left shoulder and lacing through his left
thigh, and he had a dull headache, but both his leg and arm obeyed his mental
command to move. Awkwardly
using his right hand, he threw the sheet back and struggled to a
sitting position. Dizziness assailed him, but
he gripped the