Don't Say a Word by Rita Herron Page B

rest and we can meet my brother later.”
    She turned to study him in the dim light of the car. His masculine scent, big body, even his low breathing filled the confines with an intensity that bordered on frightening. Yet tenderness also underscored the dark hooded look in his eyes as he made the offer.
    â€œI thought you wanted this meeting immediately, Agent Dubois,” she said, confused.
    â€œI do, but you look exhausted. And please call me Damon.”
    Calling him by his first name seemed somehow too intimate. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow echoing between them, and making her even more aware of his potency.
    â€œNo, let’s get the meeting over with,” she said, determined to follow through with any lead on her identity.
    His eyes darkened. “Are you sure?”
    His concern touched her. Surely if he meant her harm or was leading her into a trap, he wouldn’t offer to let her rest.
    â€œYes, I want to do this,” she said, lifting her chin and struggling for courage. “If I’m Kendra Yates, then I can help your brother. And I’ll know something about myself. If I’m not, I won’t be any worse off than I’ve been the past few months.”
    He nodded and focused on the road. She tried to relax. But by the time they reached the jail, her head throbbed full force, and nerves gripped her shoulders so tightly she ached all over.
    Agent Dubois led her into the police station, through security and into a holding room to talk to his brother. In spite of her fears, Crystal was impressed with Damon’s quiet commanding authority and the respect he garnered from the other officers. Still, she sensed animosity between a few of them as the other officers passed through the department, as if they understood his personal agenda and perhaps believed his brother was guilty of the charges.
    Their whispers and shocked expressions reminded her that her new face looked like the woman they had charged Antwaun Dubois of murdering.
    As soon as they stepped inside the room, Antwaun entered, handcuffed and shackled. At first glance, the brothers resembled one another, and a frisson of attraction lit her insides. Antwaun’s hair was wavier, and instead of dark brown eyes, his were an odd silver cobalt-blue. They settled on her, steely with rage.
    He looked every bit like a killer.
    She sucked in a deep breath, and searched for recognition, for some memory to surface, even a fleeting one that might alert her to the fact that she had known him. For a brief second, she felt it. Then the strong sense that he hated her for what she’d put him through overwhelmed her, and she moved closer to Damon.
    â€œKendra?” Antwaun stalked toward her, his eyes scrutinizing her every feature as if he were looking at a ghost.
    She shook her head. “I’m sorry…I…don’t remember you.”
    Agent Dubois cleared his throat. “Antwaun, I found this woman at a rehab hospital.” He explained how she’d wound up at Dr. Pace’s, about her amnesia and the plastic surgery. “According to Dr. Pace, she’s been hospitalized for the past several months.”
    â€œWhy are you doing this to me, Kendra?” Antwaun asked, his gaze still glued to her. “The last time I saw you, we talked about having a life together. Were you just using me?”
    She backed away, his anger palpable. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t remember that at all.”
    Antwaun jerked his gaze toward his brother as if he thought she was lying.
    â€œShe’s agreed to be fingerprinted and have her DNA tested,” Agent Dubois said. “We’ll find out the truth, Antwaun.”
    Crystal bit down on her lip. As much as she wanted to know her identity and had half hoped she was this reporter, she sensed she wouldn’t have gotten involved with Agent Dubois’s brother. He was certainly handsome, but regarding him