by Erika Wilde
Noah nodded in agreement but knew there could be more damage that they couldn’t see. “Do me a favor? Take care of the driver for me. He’s really shaken up. It wasn’t his fault. She ran out in front of his car when he had the right of way.”
Bobby’s dark brows lifted in surprise at that bit of news. “She was with you, wasn’t she?” he asked, confused. “How did this happen, anyway?”
A weary sigh escaped Noah. “Long story, and I’ll fill you in on the details as soon as Natalie is taken care of.”
“Fair enough,” his friend said, respecting Noah’s wishes and knowing he’d get the full blow-by-blow later.
Bobby went to do his bidding, and Noah remained beside Natalie, refusing to leave her for any reason. He smoothed her hair away from her face and whispered encouraging words to her, along with the plea for her to open her eyes, all to no avail.
He pressed his lips to the tips of her cold fingers, wishing he could breathe life and energy back into her body. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt so helpless, so filled with dread, not even when his parents divorced or when his father was killed in the line of duty as a police officer. The latter had been a tragic experience for him and his brother and sister, but he’d managed to compartmentalize his pain with a carefree, easygoing facade. It was a strategy that had served him well in life up until this moment.
It hit him hard that this woman had the ability to cripple him emotionally. Over the course of the months he’d been pursuing her, she’d somehow worked her way into his heart, in a way he’d never, ever anticipated. The thought of losing her tore at his insides and made him physically ill.
Finally, he heard the sound of sirens, and within a minute the ambulance was parked and the paramedics were ushering him away from Natalie and taking over. One of the EMTs asked him what had happened, and Noah told them what they needed to know so they’d have better insight to possible injuries.
Still unconscious, Natalie was transferred to a stretcher, strapped in and covered with blankets, then wheeled to the ambulance for transport to the nearest hospital. Noah followed, refusing to let her out of his sight. They hefted her into the back of the vehicle, and Noah flashed his PI badge to avoid any flack and said, “I’m going with her.”
Nobody argued as he climbed inside and settled on the bench seat opposite Natalie’s cot. One EMT went to work hooking her up to an IV, then taking her blood pressure, while another man checked to see if her pupils dilated when he flashed a spot of light in her eyes.
Bobby came up to the back of the ambulance, his gaze showing compassion and concern. “I’m going to take some eyewitness reports, then I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“Thanks,” Noah said with a nod. “I’ll call Cole on the way and let him know what happened.”
The dual doors closed, and the ambulance took off, lights flashing and sirens wailing as they sped through the city to the hospital.
It was the longest ride of Noah’s life.
* * *
Noah paced restlessly in the hospital waiting room, surrounded by Cole, Melodie, and Bobby. It had been three hours since Natalie had been admitted, and other than a few vague updates that didn’t satisfy Noah, they still didn’t know her final prognosis. The wait was excruciating, and he was eternally grateful that he had the support of his friend and family to keep him company.
Scrubbing a hand along his tense jaw, he exhaled in frustration. The last time he, Cole, and Melodie had been in a hospital had been five months ago when their sister, Joelle, had gone into labor. Back then their presence in a medical facility had been a happy, joyful event as they’d welcomed an eight-pound, three-ounce baby girl Jo and Dean had named Jennifer. But today, the mood was somber and grim as the four of them waited for the doctor to give them an update on Natalie’s condition.
He took a drink of the dark coffee Melodie had purchased down at the cafeteria for them, the bitter taste adding to the regrets and guilt swirling within him. “If only I’d tried harder to stop her,” he muttered, speaking his thoughts out loud.
“Quit blaming yourself for something that was out of your control, Noah,” Cole said, his tone understanding. He was the same old voice of reason he’d been since their father died. “It won’t change what happened.”
Regardless, he felt partially responsible for the accident. Hadn’t he told Natalie that she was safe with him? He’d done a shitty job of protecting her.
He transferred his gaze to Bobby, who sat on a hospital chair, his dark hair as mussed as Noah’s. “Are you sure nobody at the scene saw anything out of the ordinary?”
“I’m positive.” Bobby took a swallow from his own cup of coffee, wincing at the strong taste that even a dose of sugar hadn’t been able to tone down. “Everyone I spoke with either witnessed her running without paying attention to the light signal, or they didn’t catch the accident until after it happened.”
Noah pitched his empty foam cup into a nearby wastebasket. “I was hoping that someone at least saw that guy in the sweatshirt and baseball cap I told you about.”
“Nope,” Bobby said, dashing his hopes.
“Did he do something to attract attention or threaten her?” Melodie asked, joining in on the conversation. Having worked with Cole on a few cases, she was perceptive when it came to picking up on details.
“No. He was just walking behind us. He didn’t say anything or make any hostile moves toward us.” They’d been over the scene a dozen times but hadn’t come up with clues that explained Natalie’s strange behavior. She was the only one who could give them those missing pieces to the puzzle. “But whoever he is, without a doubt he’s what set Natalie off.”
“Then we’ll just have to wait until we can talk to Natalie and find out who the guy is,” Bobby replied pragmatically. “The way things look right now, the department can’t even start an investigation on the guy, not unless Natalie gives us more information to go on.”
Noah shoved both hands, palms out, into the back pockets of his jeans. “I’m sure she’ll cooperate once she’s feeling better.” At least he was hopeful she’d share more information than she had earlier.
Forty minutes later, a doctor in green scrubs came out of the double doors separating the waiting room from the staff.
“Who here is a relative of Ms. Hastings?” he asked, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose as he glanced around at the people in the area.
Noah automatically stepped forward. “I am.”
The lie slipped out with ease. He didn’t know if she had any family in the area and hadn’t found anything in her purse to indicate so. Though he’d discovered a prepaid phone, there had only been two contacts saved and named—Murphy’s and Gina from work—which he’d found odd.
He needed to know Natalie’s status, wanted to make sure whatever threat she’d seen didn’t make its way any closer to her. And the only way he could assure her safety was to appoint himself as her full-time bodyguard until this mess was straightened out. Which meant lying when necessary.
He shook the other man’s hand. “I’m her fiancé,” he added, just for an extended measure of believability. He caught Melodie’s big, rounded eyes and Cole’s raised brow from behind the doctor, and ignored them both. “How is Natalie?”
“She’s in stable condition right now,” the other man said, clasping his hands in front of him. “She has no life-threatening injuries but did suffer a concussion when her head hit the ground. She’s regained consciousness a few times, so that’s a good sign.”
A huge blanket of worry lifted from Noah’s shoulders. “So she’s going to be okay?”
“Physically, she’ll be sore and bruised for a few days, but she’ll recover just fine,” the doctor reassured him. “Emotionally and mentally, though, we’re a bit concerned. We ran tests and X-rays and did an MRI just to be sure we ruled out anything serious, but it does appear that she’s suffering some memory loss. She only remembers bits and pieces leading up to the accid
ent, and it’s apparent that part of her memory is blocked.”
“Are you saying she has amnesia?” he asked incredulously.
“The technical term for what she has is called ‘retrograde amnesia,’” the doctor clarified. “It’s quite common with people who have sustained head injuries, or have suffered from something traumatic leading up to an accident.”
That certainly qualified in Natalie’s case. Noah glanced in disbelief at the trio listening in on the conversation, then back to the calm, patient doctor standing in front of him. “So, how long does this amnesia last?”
“It can last anywhere from hours, to days, to weeks. The amnesia in this case is very selective, and there is usually a full recovery in time. We’ll be keeping her overnight for further observation, but I do suggest that once she’s discharged from the hospital she isn’t left alone until she’s feeling confident about her surroundings and the people in her life.”
“That’s not a problem,” Noah said abruptly, and wove another lie to keep her safe from potential harm. “We live together.”
“Very good, then.” The doctor smiled pleasantly. “When you see her, don’t pressure her to remember things, because that can cause her more stress and can possibly suppress her memories deeper. Just let her remember things as they come to her, and in her own time.”
“Can I see her?” he asked hopefully.
“She’s resting right now—”
“I swear I won’t bother her,” he interrupted quickly, desperately. “I just need to see for myself that she’s okay.”
The older man glanced around the waiting room, his gaze briefly settling on Bobby, Cole, and Melodie. “Are there any other family members here?”
“No, her family doesn’t live in the area.” The fibs kept getting easier and easier to fabricate, and he was grateful that nobody interfered.
The doctor hesitated a moment, then gave a succinct nod of his head. “That’s fine. In fact, I can have one of the nurses bring in a cot to her room for you if you’d like to stay the night. That way, she can wake up to a familiar face.”
“That would be great.” He shook the other man’s hand again, appreciating the opportunity to be close to her. “Thank you.”
After issuing goodbyes to his brother, Melodie, and Bobby, and promising to let them all know what he found out when he was able to question Natalie, he followed a nurse to Natalie’s private room.
“I’ll be back with a cot and extra blankets for you,” the nurse said, then left him alone with Natalie.
He stepped inside the small hospital room, his eyes instantly drawn to the sleeping form on the bed. A lightweight blanket covered her up to her chest, and she was still hooked to an IV. The soft blip of a unit monitoring her heart and breathing told him that she was, indeed, stabilized. The color was back in her face, and a butterfly bandage covered the cut on her cheek, which hadn’t required stitches, thank goodness.
The awful tightness he’d been experiencing in his chest since the accident finally eased. Pulling a chair close to her bedside, he sat down, leaned forward and placed his hand over Natalie’s, just to have some kind of connection to her.
His fingers felt the pulse in her wrist, and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest and the fluttering of her eyelids as she dreamed. Her lips were parted slightly, and remembering their kiss, he was determined that their next one would be much softer, much sweeter, with nothing but desire and mutual hunger between them.
His cot was delivered, along with some water for him to drink. Nurses periodically came into the room to check on her, and he made it clear that he wasn’t going to leave Natalie’s side until she awakened.
And as the minutes ticked by, one concern preyed heavily on his mind. Would she even remember him when she woke up?
CHAPTER FOUR
Her throat felt parched and she was so thirsty.
Natalie pulled herself from her deep, dreamless sleep and pried her eyes open. She blinked, focusing on her surroundings, recalling with a startling jolt that she’d been in an accident and was in the hospital. She shivered as she caught sight of the equipment and wires hooked up to her sore, aching body, and inhaled an antiseptic scent that tickled her nose. The back of her skull hurt, too, and she had a headache to match. She glanced at the clock on the wall in front of her and saw it was six thirty—in the morning, she assumed.
She closed her eyes again, this time trying to recall any small detail of being hit by a car, but all she remembered was gaining consciousness in the hospital after the fact and wondering what the heck was going on. Last night she’d felt so bewildered and confused, and her head had felt as though something had stampeded through her brain. Exhaustion had finally claimed her, which had been a blessed relief since she hadn’t been able to make sense of anything.
It seemed a good night’s rest hadn’t made any difference, and she couldn’t stop the niggling sense of unease that trickled through her. Before her anxiety could spring into full-blown panic, she calmed herself with the knowledge that she’d been through a traumatic accident and the certainty that things would become clearer as the day progressed.
A soft, snoring sound pulled her from her disturbing thoughts. With a frown, she turned her head, glanced down and found a man slumped forward in a chair at the side of her bed, his dark head and muscular, tattooed arms resting on the mattress near her hip.
Another snuffling sound escaped him, and she smiled, recognizing that tousled sable hair and the strong, gorgeous profile as Noah’s. It appeared he’d fallen asleep while watching over her, and the caring gesture warmed her deep inside.
A brief recollection flashed inside her head, of Noah’s lips on hers and a wild, deep kiss unlike anything she’d ever indulged in. She knew Noah, and along with that certainty came the knowledge that he made her feel safe, secure, and desired. But she had no idea where he fit into her life. Was he her boyfriend? Lover? Friend? Judging by the awareness and intimate longing swirling within her, she was guessing that he was much more than a casual acquaintance.
Stretching her arm out, she gently threaded her fingers through his hair, the thick strands cool and silky to the touch. She caressed her hand along the dark, bristly whiskers on his cheek and jaw, trying to recall if she’d ever been abraded by that sexy morning stubble. His lips were parted and looked so warm and soft. So inviting. She couldn’t resist testing the feel of them for herself, and she wasn’t disappointed in the silky, seductive texture her fingertips encountered.
His lashes drifted open as he gradually awakened, his dark blue eyes at first unfocused. God, he was so sinfully sensual, so deliciously good-looking, he literally took her breath away.
The charming grin she expected to see never appeared. Instead, he slowly lifted his head and stared at her cautiously, warily searching her gaze as if he wasn’t sure what to expect from her. Odd, she thought.
Regardless, his presence soothed her, grounded her, and she was grateful that she hadn’t woken up alone. “Hi, there,” she said, her voice husky from slumber and thirst.
He swallowed hard, then finally graced her with that sexy smile that never failed to jump-start her pulse. That exciting tingling through her veins was an incredibly nice way to greet the morning, though she couldn’t ever recall waking up with this man next to her.
Not that it had or hadn’t happened. She just couldn’t…remember. Her mind felt muddled, foggy, and disoriented, and the inability to grasp any kind of clear recollection of them frustrated her.
“Hi, yourself, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone low and rough.
Sweetheart. Yeah, she definitely liked the sound of that. And she instinctively knew that he’d used that sentiment with her before.
He straightened in his seat, then stretched his arms over his head to loosen the kinks that had no doubt cramped parts of his body due to his awkward sleeping position. Muscles flexed beneath his T-shirt and along his arms as he arched his back and reached high. He groaned in relief, and she en
joyed every bit of the male display.
“You snore,” she said in amusement.
“I’m sorry.” He cringed at that bit of information, instantly contrite. “Did I wake you?”
“No, actually it was a cute snore and not at all obnoxious.”
He laughed, the rumbling sound sending a pleasant vibration along her nerve endings. “Well, it’s certainly good to know that you think my snores are cute, but don’t tell anyone else because, for one thing, I’ll never hear the end of it and, for another, it’ll be a huge blow to my masculinity.”
“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She smiled, curious to know if they shared any other private intimacies. “I need something to drink. Is there any water?”
“Sure is.” He raised the top of her mattress so she was sitting up, then filled a plastic glass on the tray next to her bed. Bringing the straw to her lips, he watched her take a drink, his concerned gaze roaming over her face. “You sound better than I’d expected this morning, but how are you really feeling?”
She swallowed one last gulp of cool water, relieving her dry, scratchy throat. “My head is throbbing and I feel bruised, battered, and achy. Like I got hit by a car.”
He chuckled lightly at her wry tone and tipped his head. “You remember?”
“Not much, if anything at all.” She sighed and settled back against her pillows. “Actually, one of the nurses told me what happened when I asked last night. That’s how I know. I’m still kind of sketchy on the details, though.”
“That’s okay. It’ll eventually come to you. I’m just glad to see your beautiful eyes are wide open and clear. You gave us all quite a scare.”
“Us all?”
Nodding, he perched his hip on the mattress next to her waist and placed her hand between his. His thumb drew lazy patterns over her knuckles. “Me, my brother, Melodie, Bobby, and everyone at Murphy’s.”
She thought hard to place who those people were. Struck with a sudden dull ache at her temple, she pressed her fingers against the sore spot. “The names are familiar, but why can’t I place their faces?” she asked, annoyed with her inability to do so.
