"I wouldn't have it any other way." He bent close and brushed a kiss on her cheek.
His lips were warm and sensual, the scent of him musky and all male. His morning stubble lightly chafed her skin, eliciting a stirring of desire in her blood. Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest, and she was surprised that the monitor she was hooked up to didn't go haywire. When he lifted his head again and met her gaze, his eyes were dark and intense.
She exhaled a slow breath as they stared at each other. She craved and wanted this man in inexplicable ways that defied her current state of mind, and all she knew for certain was that the feeling was honest and true. She trusted her instincts where Noah was concerned, because, for now, her gut intuition was all she had to depend on.
A nurse walked into the room, shattering the intimate moment between them. Noah sat back in his chair as the woman came up to the side of her bed and started adjusting the IV drip. She wore a pastel smock, and the badge hanging around her neck identified her as Shirley Richards, RN.
"You're awake," she said pleasantly, and smiled at Natalie. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"As good as can be expected."
The nurse nodded in understanding. "I'll give you another dose of medication to help with the aches and pains. You'll be sore for a few days, but you're darn lucky that you didn't sustain any internal injuries." She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and pumped it full of air.
As Shirley took her vitals, she glanced across the bed to Noah, then back at Natalie. "You've got yourself quite a fiance there," she said genuinely. "He was determined to stay with you and has been by your side all night long waiting for you to wake up."
Her eyes widened as she was dealt another dose of shock to deal with. Her fiance? She and Noah were engaged? She snuck a peek at her left hand and saw no evidence of an engagement ring but knew that didn't mean anything at all. Undoubtedly, this man was part of her life in some capacity, and when Noah didn't deny or correct the woman's comment, she had no choice but to believe it was true.
And belonging to Noah wasn't an unpleasant thought at all.
"I'm thinking you might need to use the rest room, yes?" Shirley asked once she'd written her numbers down on the chart in front of her bed.
Natalie smiled sheepishly. "That would be nice."
"You should be okay to get up on your own, but I'll be here to help you the first time, just to make sure your legs are steady and you don't get lightheaded. And then there's all the IV stuff that can get in your way." The nurse transferred her professional gaze to Noah. "Can you give us about fifteen minutes to do the girl stuff?"
"Sure." A wry grin canted the corner of his mouth and he stood. "I need to use the men's room myself."
He winked at Natalie and turned for the door. She watched him walk out, eyes drawn to his wide shoulders, his strong, lean body and his confident swagger. No matter how she racked her brain trying to recall something as important as an engagement, her mind remained frustratingly blank.
Regardless of her unreliable memory, one thrilling, exciting thought took precedence: this gorgeous, breathtakingly sexy man was all hers.
Chapter Three
After taking care of personal business, Noah washed his hands, then splashed cool water on his face, trying like hell to push away the guilt eating at his conscience. He dried the dampness from his skin with a paper towel and shoved his fingers through his hair in a paltry attempt to tame his unruly morning hair.
Natalie believed he was her nance. When the nurse had made that announcement, he'd witnessed Natalie's surprised expression and had held his breath, waiting for her to ask him if it was true. Much to his relief she didn't question the woman's casually tossed words, which saved him from outright lying to Natalie's face. For now.
Bracing his hands on the edge of the porcelain sink, he stared at his reflection in the rest room mirror, noting the lines of exhaustion at the corners of his eyes. Undoubtedly, he was lying by omission, because he planned to use the fiance pretense to his advantage, to remain as close to her as possible so he could protect her until he nailed the source of her fears the night before. And he knew there would be more fabrications as they became necessary and until she fully regained her memory-all for her own good. For him, it was one hundred percent a safety issue.
He suspected she didn't remember the threat that had scared her, and that made her even more defenseless and too damned vulnerable to the guy she'd run away from. He was beginning to think she was the target of a stalker. What else could explain the hysterical words Natalie had spoken last night before getting hit by the car? I'll never be safe. He won't go away.
Right now, with her amnesia, she didn't have the advantage of knowing something was wrong, and her instincts might be skewed by memory loss. Her vulnerability put her too much at risk for another encounter that might turn hostile.
And there was no way he'd allow anything else to harm her, not if he could help it.
He left the rest room and stopped at the vending machine in the waiting area. Buying a roll of the strongest mints available, he promptly tossed three of the peppermint Life Savers into his mouth and chewed. While he waited a few more minutes before returning to Natalie's room, he came up with a game plan. He'd ask her casual, no-pressure kinds of questions and see what she did and didn't recollect. He refused to feed her any information or outright tell her the truth about what had led up to the accident, because if she didn't remember, he knew it would only cause her panic and paranoia.
He popped three more mints for good measure, and when he arrived back in her room, she was settled back in bed with a breakfast tray on the small table in front of her. She was still wearing her hospital gown, but her hair had been combed and was smoothed back behind her ears.
She glanced from her meal to him and wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Blech."
He chuckled as he came up beside her. "That bad, huh?"
"While I can't recall what my favorite breakfast food is, I'm sure this isn't it. Watery scrambled eggs, oatmeal that looks like paste, and dry, cold toast." She indicated each item on her tray with a point of her finger. "The only thing that looks worth eating is the fresh fruit."
He had to agree that her breakfast didn't look at all appetizing. "Then eat the fruit and drink your apple juice, and I'll try to sneak in something good later."
She grinned. "How about a pepperoni pizza?"
He chuckled at her enthusiasm, glad to see she was quickly gaining back her energy. "A big ol' pizza box is a bit obvious, don't you think? That'll have to wait until you're home."
"Home?"
The frown creasing her brows told him that she was having a hard time placing where she lived. Which was perfect for him. "My place. We just moved in together."
"Oh." The one word escaped on a breathy note of sound.
He played his cards very cautiously, not wanting to upset her in any way. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Well, no, not really." She shrugged. "I mean, if we're engaged, that would make sense."
She was so trusting that he had to push aside another wave of guilt that assaulted him-and remind himself that it was the only way he could keep her safe.
She sighed softly. "I just feel like I'm learning who I am all over again. Or at least parts of who I am."
"That's how it'll be with certain aspects of your memory, according to the doctor." Since she wasn't digging into her breakfast, he filched a grape from the compote and lifted it to her mouth. When her lips automatically parted, he slipped the piece of fruit inside. "We'll do lots of talking and that might spark those repressed parts of your memory."
While her mouth was currently occupied, he casually brought up another subject, wanting to know what she might recall about her past. "Do you want me to contact someone in your family to let them know about your accident?"
"I don't have any family," she said automatically.
Surprised, he asked, "You remember that?"
&nb
sp; "Yeah, I do," she said, equally stunned by the knowledge. "You were testing me, weren't you?"
As her fiance, he should have known about her family, and was grateful that she saw his question as a way of testing her mind and memory. That would definitely work in his favor to get information from her. "Yeah, I was. What else do you remember?"
She plucked up a wedge of cantaloupe, slipped it into her mouth and thought for a moment while she chewed. "I remember that my parents died when I was about five in a house fire and I grew up in foster homes."
Oh, wow, he thought, blown away by her confession and unable to imagine what a tumultuous and difficult childhood she must have had. He'd lost his parents, too, but at least he'd been lucky enough to have his brother, Cole, raising him and his sister, Joelle. They'd been a strong family unit-then and now. "How about relatives?"
She shook her head. "Both of my parents were only children, so I don't have any aunts and uncles, and my grandparents are dead, too."
He urged her to take a drink of her apple juice. "Do you remember how last night's accident happened?"
She paused, and he could see her straining to recall details. "I remember walking with you-but I was afraid of something?"
She looked at him with uncertainty in her pale blue gaze, waiting for him to confirm her question. "Yes, you were. What were you afraid of, sweetheart?"
She closed her eyes, and her face scrunched up in an obvious attempt to force thoughts into her head.
"I-I don't remember." Frustrated, she dropped her head back onto the pillow and released a low, discouraging growl. "How is it that I can recall so much about my past-you, even-but I can't remember other things? I feel like there's a huge, gaping hole in my life."
She sounded near to panic over her inability to control what her mind could and couldn't recollect. Weaving their fingers together, he sought to soothe her the best he could. "I'm here for you, Natalie, for anything you want or need. Anything at all." And he meant it, too.
She pushed her breakfast tray aside, her appetite obviously gone. "I want my memory back. All of it," she said stubbornly.
Of course she'd ask for a wish he couldn't grant. Knowing she was desperate, he focused on the positive. "Tell you what, let's concentrate on the things you do remember."
Her gaze touched his eyes, lingering long enough to make him feel as though she could see all the way into his soul. She took in the rest of his features slowly, as if scrutinizing each one, then finally came to rest on his mouth.
"I remember kissing you," she said abruptly, her voice low and husky with awareness. She dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, and her breathing deepened. "Come here," she whispered.
Mesmerized by her request, he moved the small table in front of her completely out of their way and leaned toward her, bracing a hand on the pillow beside her head. The position caused his chest to press against her full, generous breasts, and he had the fleeting thought that he wished they were both naked so he could feel her skin on skin.
He was uncertain what she intended, but whatever she had planned, he was a willing participant.
Her soft, slender hand traveled up his arm to his shoulder, then her fingers slipped through the hair at the nape of his neck and she drew his head down to hers. Lost in the need reflecting in her eyes, he complied, watching as her lashes fluttered closed and her lips parted for him even before their mouths touched.
While their first kiss had been an act of desperation, this one was born of the sensuality that burned bright between them. She nibbled on his bottom lip, and he let her have free rein to taste and explore to her heart's content, no matter the cost to him physically. He was already hard and thick, completely aroused-a normal, lusty reaction when it came to her.
When she deepened the kiss, he welcomed the moist heat and slow, penetrating slide of her tongue, and met it with his own. He stroked long and slow, hot and deep, and she kissed him back the same way, eagerly and instinctively. So much passion. So much heat. Intense and uninhibited.
A purr of pleasure rumbled in her throat, and he groaned in appreciation, too. She was an irresistible temptation, a searing drug to his deprived libido, and she made him restless and hungry for more of her.
By the time she let him go, she was panting for breath and his own pulse was racing wildly. Their faces were still only inches away, and he wanted to drown in those trusting, velvety blue eyes of hers. Wanted to strip away the sheet and the flimsy gown separating them and make love to her.
The latter wasn't an option. Not here. Not now. Not until she regained her memory and could better define her emotions. It was obvious to him that she didn't realize that she'd been avoiding him and her attraction to him for months now. But this Natalie was giving into desires that had always been inside of her, desires she'd hidden from him before today.
Interesting.
A lazy smile hitched up the corner of his mouth. "And that was for-?" he murmured questioningly.
She caressed her palm along his cheek, skimmed her thumb along his full bottom lip, though her gaze never left his. "I needed to make sure what I feel for you is real."
"And is it?" He had to know.
"As real as I know it to be. You feel good and right, and I really like kissing you."
He laughed, relieved, and ran the tip of his finger down the slope of her cute nose. "Just so you know, you have permission to kiss me anytime you'd like."
Smiling, she settled back against her pillows, suddenly looking tired. While she might appear okay physically, he knew it would take a couple of days for her to fully regain her strength again. And right now, she needed more sleep.
He straightened, making a quick decision that would benefit them both. "I'm going to leave, but I'll be back in a little while."
Dread flared to life in her eyes. "Where are you going?"
Her panic-stricken expression clutched at him, and he instantly tried to soothe her anxiety. "I need a shower, shave and a change of clothes. And you need to rest. Are you afraid to stay alone?" he asked gently.
"Just a little nervous," she admitted, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. "I feel so out of place and disoriented, and you're like an anchor in this storm I seem to be caught up in."
"I'm sure that's very normal." Reaching for the call button, he set it within her reach. "Tell you what, here's the buzzer for the nurse, and if you need me for anything at all, here are my cell phone and pager numbers." He jotted both on a napkin and set it by her phone. "Don't hesitate to call me, even if it's just to hear my voice."
She inhaled deeply, as if inflating her courage. "You must think I'm a complete basket case."
No, he didn't think that at all. Her nerves and fears were legitimately based, but he wasn't about to enlighten her of that fact, or the reasons why. She didn't need any more stress to deal with at the moment.
"I'm not always this clingy, am I?" she asked, even as her lashes grew heavy and drooped.
She sounded so embarrassed at the thought that he couldn't help but grin. "You're only clingy when it counts, sweetheart," he teased.
"Good." Her eyes closed completely, and she mumbled drowsily, "Will you bring me back fresh clothes, too?"
She thought he could because she believed they lived together. "You bet." Luckily for him he'd claimed her car keys and ID from her purse before handing over her personal effects to the nurses, so he had everything he needed to get into her apartment and confiscate enough items to make it appear as though she'd moved into his house. But first, he had to call a cab to take him back to his car, which was still parked at Murphy's.
He remained by her bedside until her breathing grew deep and even in sleep before leaving her room. He stopped at the nurses' station, flashed his P.I. badge and gave them adamant orders that other than personnel, no one was to go into her room without someone calling and asking him first.
He wasn't taking any chances with her safety.
Hands on his hips, Noah glanced around what had once bee
n his masculine bathroom, but now shared space with Natalie's feminine toiletries, and knew his cherished bachelorhood as he'd once known it was over-at least temporarily. The thought of trading in meaningless flings for a day-to-day intimacy with a woman didn't bother him as much as it should have, though-because it was Natalie, a woman he'd been chasing for so long. A woman who intrigued him and evoked the kind of emotions that, with other women, had sent him running in the other direction, but with her seemed so perfectly, inexplicably right.
At the moment, he refused to analyze his changing emotions, because he had a job to do and his feelings for Natalie couldn't get in the way of higher priorities, like keeping her safe and protected. Once she regained her memory and was no longer in danger, then they'd focus on them.
He headed back into his bedroom, made room in his closet for her stuff and finished putting away the clothes he'd taken from her apartment. While going through her belongings, he'd learned that she favored jeans and sweats, loose shirts and bulky sweaters. There wasn't a sexy outfit to be had in all of her attire, or the kind of clingy, flattering clothes most women with her kind of figure would have worn. It was as if she'd sought to hide her assets, rather than accentuate them.
That had been an interesting eye-opener, and he'd found the rest of her small studio apartment equally revealing. Instead of the warmth and intimacy he'd expected to find upon entering, the accommodations she called home had felt cold, empty and lonely. Her apartment was a compact place where she slept, ate meals and studied, as indicated by the pile of books stacked on a corner table near the only window in the room. There was nothing to indicate she led anything more than a quiet, solitary life.
The apartment had been filled with only the bare living necessities-a box spring and mattress in the combo bedroom-living room, along with a nightstand and dresser drawers that were old and scarred and didn't even match. Her small thirteen-inch TV sat on a plastic crate, and her small dining table was flanked by two old wooden chairs. Even her cupboards and refrigerator only held a few staple items.
The Ultimate Seduction Page 4
