Page 10 of Dangerous Exile

“But it is not. You’re not Talen Blackstone. You’re Conner Burton.”

“I’m not.” His arms crossed over his torso as he scowled down at her. “I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

She’d seen this man—whoever he was—just like this before. His arms wrapped across his massive chest, his blue eyes hard, impenetrable as they took her in. Standing there just as he was now. Had that been a day ago? Two?

She was losing her ever-blasted mind.

Or the alternative. Her gaze dropped to the coverlet, cringing at her own question. “Am I dead?”

“No.”

Her neck craning, she looked up at him. He’d also looked at her like this years ago when she’d aggravated him. A much smaller version of him, of course, but the same. Conner. It washim.

Impossible.

“Conner, what are you playing at? It’s me—Ness—do I look so awful that you cannot see me through the bruises?”

His head angled to the side as his lips pursed. “Fine, I’ll humor you. Just how do you think I know you?”

“How could you not remember? You were eleven. I was ten. I hated you.”

“You hated me?” His mouth set into a hard line. “You’re seeing crooked if you think I’m this Conner boy. At eleven I was on a Royal Navy ship in the war, swabbing decks. I’m an orphan set to sea at an early age. Nothing more. I’m not what you think you see.”

“But how can that be? What about before that?” Her hand jabbed out to reach up and grab his forearm. “You’re Conner. You were the first boy that I fancied myself in love with. You—”

“No, you just said you hated me.” He jerked a step backward out of her reach. “Keep your story straight, Ness.”

“I did. I did say I hated you.” Her head bobbed up and down, her voice going manic. “But then I adored you. You were eleven and I was ten and we played in the fields in Cumberland every summer before that. I hated you because you tormented me and you were fast and I could never catch you until you slowed down for me. But then you slowed down for me. And I didn’t hate you anymore. And you were sweet. And I thought the sun revolved around you. I always thought we would grow up and I would marry you.”

His boot clomped onto the wooden floorboards as he stabbed another step backward, his head shaking with a snarl on his lip. “Shut your mouth. You don’t know me and you are mad. Pure crazy.”

Her mouth clamped shut, the sting of his words striking her to her core.

No. She couldn’t be. Not now. Not mad.

Hell.What if she was? What if one of the punches into her face had addled her brain?

She sucked in a breath, trying to stop her voice, but words still flew from her mouth with her exhale. “But, you…you don’t remember?”

His shoulders lifted, no recognition in his face. “No. I’m not this boy you think you see—Conner—I can tell you that.”

“But…but how could you not…” She tugged the coverlet off her lap and swung her legs out of the bed, her toes touching the floor. He had to be Conner. He had to be. She was sure of it. How could he not remember her? She wasn’t mad—she wasn’t.

She stood, her balance wobbly. “But how do you not remember?”

He didn’t move a muscle. “I don’t know you, woman.”

“You do.”

His face broke at her last insistence, fury rising so quickly in him it set his eyes ablaze, the whole of him morphing into a seething bull. “This is what Madame Juliet sent to me?” His hand whipped out from the hold against his body to wave in front of her face. “A madwoman? This black and blue face?”

He took a threatening step toward her, leaning over her small frame. “Let me give you a word of advice, Ness. It would behoove you to know me for who I am and to quit this silly nonsense that has scattered your brain, for I am out of patience.”

“Would it?” She glared up at him. What should have her scurrying back into the bed, didn’t. He was Conner. She was sure of it. Conner would never hurt her. Never.

“Aye. It would. The man you came to for help is the man you should be talking to. Talen Blackstone.” His upper lip lifted as he seethed in a breath. “Now, I came in for one thing, and I mean to get it.”

“Which is?”

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