Alex smiled. She knew Dylan believed her, but it was nice to hear him tell someone the same thing.
She knew they were working together as a team, and now she felt it even more. It was a good feeling.
Alex picked up the papers and returned to her reading with a new purpose.
When she finished, she jotted down her impressions on a separate sheet of paper, then took the other papers and locked them in the bottom drawer of her desk.
When she went searching for him, she found him on the balcony with Clarence draped languidly across the back of a chair, avidly looking for any unwary bird who might stop by.
Dylan looked over his shoulder as he gestured outward. “Not bad digs at all,” he commented. “You’ve got well-lit trails for walking or running, tennis courts, swimming pool and fitness center. Pretty much everything you need is right here without you leaving home. I bet your maintenance fees are high for that privilege, too.” His gaze dropped down and he noticed the sheet of paper she held in one hand. “All finished?”
Alex nodded, and she walked over and dropped into the chair next to his. “I didn’t read one word that would indicate one of my clients would have any reason to attack me.”
“Except these are people you don’t remember,” he reminded here. “All you have to go on are your perceptions on paper.”
She smiled. “And you always said I had a good sense about people. Reading about them gives me a sense of who they are.”
“In my world it’s called investigation,” he said, stretching out his legs and propping his feet up on the balcony railing. “You sometimes check out leads that don’t even sound credible because you never know if that’s the all-important clue.”
Her smile was heartwarming. “It’s nice to know you believed me when I didn’t have much to go on today.”
“There was no doubt in my mind, Alex. I trust your senses. Maybe you lost parts of your memory, but you didn’t lose your common sense,” he stated. His eyes darkened as his gaze roamed over her face. “I just wish we’d caught up with them. They could have told us why they’re going after you.”
Alex knew how she felt the night she was attacked, but until now she hadn’t realized just how much Dylan had been shaken up. She leaned over and grasped his hand. She smiled as he laced his fingers through hers and kept her hand resting on his thigh. She felt the warmth of his skin through the material of his slacks.
“Any thoughts, Detective, on the why part?” she whispered.
“Most logical is you picked up something that belongs to one of your clients. It probably happened on the last day. Otherwise, you would have ended up with a trashed hotel room because they would have looked for it before you left the city.”
“This sounds more like a spy drama.”
He nodded. “It would be a good reason for someone to come after you. You have any theories?”
Alex thought about it for several minutes. “It would be logical if I accidentally picked up something that could prove dangerous to a client, and that client would do whatever it took to get it back. Which means it must be illegal, since if it was an honest mistake that person would merely call my office, explain the error and I would look for whatever it was.” She stopped and winced.
“What’s wrong?” Dylan leaned over.
She started to shake her head, then thought better of it before she completed the action. “Just a sharp pain in my head.” She closed her eyes as if it would keep the pain at bay. “Maybe that means I’m on the right track.”
“Okay, enough for now,” he said with frustration coloring his voice.
Alex silently blessed him. She knew he was eager to figure out who and why, but he could tell they weren’t going any further just now. She was just as impatient to solve more of the puzzle, but she sensed the pain was a reminder not to push too fast. She was finally beginning to listen to her body.
If she didn’t know better she’d swear his smile held a hint of sorrow. “You’re a tough lady, Alex. If it doesn’t come back, you’ll handle it, and if it does, well, you’ll know what to do then, too. You just have to know your brain will give you the information you need when it’s ready. Not when you’re ready.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by telling her she would know what to do when her memory came back, but she sensed he wasn’t ready to explain his cryptic statement. As he said, she would just have to wait.
Alex mulled over Dylan’s advice as she went into her bedroom and prepared for bed. She knew his suggestion about being patient was a good one, but there was one problem—she wasn’t a tolerant person.
She’d always thought she had good instincts about people. Boy, was she proved wrong! First with Dylan, now with this new situation that could ultimately ruin her career if it got out. Sure, the guy gave her the creeps, but that didn’t mean he was, well, what he was.
The sound was her first warning as she turned and something struck her on the head. She opened her mouth to scream but had no idea if any sound escaped.
“No!” Alex shot straight up. What felt like fear raced throughout her body as she fought to regain control of the dark fears threatening to take over her brain.
“What happened?” Dylan ran into the bedroom with his weapon in his hand. He slammed the light switch by the door before he headed for the window, but he found it still closed. He turned back to her. “You were screaming. What happened?”
She placed her hands protectively against her throat as she rocked back and forth, struggling for much-needed oxygen. “I can’t breathe!” she wheezed. “I can’t breathe!” She looked up wild-eyed at him while tears streamed down her cheeks.
He took quick note of the situation. “Everything will be fine, Alex. I’ll be right back.”
Panicking once again, Alex cried out his name and put up her hand, imploring him to stay. In response, he wrapped his arms around her, protecting her.
It took a few moments for Alex’s panic to subside. She was aware of the warmth of Dylan’s hand as he gently rubbed the length of her spine in soothing strokes.
“Since your window isn’t open or broken, I can only guess you had a nightmare,” he said.
She started to nod, then stopped. “Could I have a glass of water, please?” she whispered, wiping away her tears with the backs of her fingers.
“Sure.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen.
The minute he was gone, she reached inside her night table drawer and pulled out her journal and a pen. She thumbed to the rear of the book until she found blank pages. Afraid of forgetting what she dreamed she quickly wrote down the details, then tore the paper out of the journal, replacing the book in the drawer. She noted her hands were shaking.
“Here you go.” Dylan appeared in front of her, holding out a glass as he sat down next to her. She nodded her thanks as she drank deeply. When she finished, he took the glass from her and set it on the night table. “Do you remember what your nightmare was about?”
Alex nodded. “It’s not something I’d like to remember. I think I dreamed about my attack.” She kept her gaze downcast. By looking at the floor she found it easier to relate what haunted her sleep. “At least it seemed like it.”
“What did you see?” His stroking her back soothed her shaky thoughts.
She studied her hands as she twisted them in her lap. “It was more like what I sensed. It was dark and I was too caught up in what I was thinking.”
“Do you have any idea what you were thinking?”
She unfolded her piece of paper and looked down at the words she’d written down. “I was angry about something. I don’t know if it was something I learned or overheard or read. But whatever it was I felt it was serious enough to ruin my career. I heard a sound, as if someone had kicked a stone and it was skipping across the asphalt. I turned around, felt pain and then nothing. Then I woke up.” She sighed. “That wasn’t much help, was it?”
He pondered her words. “Everything you remember can get us a little f
urther.”
Alex kept staring at the paper as if the answers would suddenly appear before her. “Smoke,” she said abruptly.
He looked up. “Smoke? As in fire?”
“No, as in cigarettes.” She turned around, drawing one leg up under her. Her knee gently bumped his thigh as she shifted her body. “The man who hit me was a smoker. He reeked of cigarette smoke.”
“A smoker.” Dylan nodded.
“I need to look through my briefcase and suitcase to see if there’re any papers there that don’t belong to me.” She touched his arm and stopped.
Dylan’s wearing fire-engine red boxers! He never wore boxers before. He always wore briefs. And when did boxers get so sexy?
She tried to sort through her muddled thought processes. Bad dream. Red boxer shorts. Feeling scared. Dylan in those red boxer shorts comforting her. Maybe seeing her attacker in her dream. Dylan out of those red boxers. She wished she hadn’t drunk all her water. Some of that ice-cold liquid splashed on her hot face would feel good about now.
She determinedly kept her gaze on his chest, then realized it wasn’t a good idea, since it was bare and nicely defined.
Alex was positive her fingers still remembered every inch of Dylan’s taut skin. She seriously thought about exploring the warm texture, but settled for inhaling his woodsy scent. Once upon a time they wouldn’t have been sitting here talking. Instead, Dylan would be doing his best to get her out of her nightgown and under the covers.
“Alex.” Gentle fingers grasped her chin and lifted her face. Dylan’s concern was written on his face. “Are you okay?”
I want you to hold me. The plea in her head headed straight for her lips and almost escaped. It took great effort for her to hold the words back. Logically, she knew she didn’t want Dylan’s comfort because he felt sorry for her. If she ended up in his arms it would be because he wanted to hold her. She felt a sudden wave of incredible loneliness wash over her as she realized that wasn’t to be. They were divorced now. For all she knew he had a woman in his life who meant something to him.
“I didn’t expect to have such a startling dream,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I didn’t expect to relive that night. The detail might not have been perfect, but the shock was very real.”
“It could have been a reaction to the chase today, and then your reading your client notes, with the intent of looking for the worst, triggered the nightmare,” he said quietly, lifting his hand to trace the curve of her cheek with the back of his fingers. She resisted the urge to close her eyes and lean into his caress with the hope it would lead to more. “If you weren’t still on pain pills I’d suggest you have a glass of wine to help you relax.”
“I didn’t take any of my pain medication tonight. I don’t like the way it makes me feel,” she said. But if she’d known she would go to bed and have a nightmare she would have done everything she could to stay awake. “Now I’m glad I didn’t take anything. I might have had a more difficult time waking up.” She shuddered. “Although I guess my screaming like a banshee would have done the trick.” She grimaced. “Since no one’s pounding on the door, I guess I wasn’t screaming as loud as I thought I was.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You got my attention,” Dylan said lightly, in an obvious attempt to lighten the moment. He looked down and absently rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “If you had dreamed longer you might have seen his face.”
“Except it’s obvious I didn’t see his face when it happened and I didn’t see his face now.” She followed his action and looked down to watch his fingers moving over hers. Dylan had rarely touched her since he picked her up at the emergency room. She found the lack of contact hurtful even if she reminded herself they were divorced and she didn’t recall all the details. “If I had seen his face, he would have tried harder to come after me, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t want me identifying him.” A germ of an idea lit up inside her mind. “What if he thought I knew what he looked like? What if he thought I recognized him today when I saw him, even though it’s more a feeling I have than actually recognition? It was as if a switch was flipped on and I instinctively knew I was looking at someone I somehow knew but couldn’t put a place or name to it.”
“If he wasn’t the one who attacked you he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did,” Dylan said.
“We have the assumption that this man and whoever was with him are looking for something, but we can’t seem to get any further. Another barrier.” She blinked rapidly.
“Hey.” Dylan tipped his head to look into her down-turned face. “Don’t cry, Alex. We’ll get through this just fine. You have my word on it.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry, I won’t cry.” She felt the warmth of his fingertips against her skin. For a moment she visualized her taking control of the moment by falling back on the covers and pulling Dylan down with her. His red boxers would slide off very easily and she knew she could get rid of her nightgown in seconds. That was one area in their marriage they had no problem with. A powerful sense of need rose up inside her, so strong she felt it clear down to her center. Except she knew it wouldn’t do any good to communicate it to Dylan. She had a pretty good idea he didn’t hold any lingering feelings for her. She now knew that disappointment was a bitter taste.
Dylan stood up and tugged at her hand. “Come on, we both need sleep.” He urged her back into bed and tucked the sheet around her. Once she was settled under the covers, he stretched out next to her and pulled her into his arms, nestling her head in the curve of his shoulder. “Go to sleep, Al,” he murmured. “You won’t have any more nightmares tonight.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. During those fleeting seconds between awareness and sleep, Dylan’s voice using that nickname drifted through her mind. Except when he said it that time his voice was cold and sarcastic. This time she couldn’t hold back her shiver.
Thinking she was resisting sleep because of her nightmare, Dylan tightened his hold on her. She murmured something indistinct as her body eventually relaxed and she fell into a deep sleep.
He’d forgotten how Alex felt in his arms. How her body fit so sweetly around his and seemed to become a part of him.
How often had they fallen asleep just like this? Of course, they had always made love first. They had never been able to keep their hands off each other. His body tightened as he remembered those heat-filled nights.
It had been difficult not to do more than rub Alex’s hands tonight. His first thought had been to offer her another kind of comfort. He wanted to give her the kind of solace where they could lose themselves in each other and forget about what was going on around them.
As he lay back in the bed with Alex asleep in his arms, he inhaled the light jasmine and vanilla powdery fragrance of Donna Karan that wafted off her skin. He wished for those nights again, wondering what would happen if they could go back to that happier time. Would a second chance mean they could avoid the pitfalls they encountered before? If she didn’t regain her memory, who was to say she still wouldn’t revert to the power-hungry lawyer she became toward the end of their marriage? And if she did regain it, well, things would just go back to the way they were.
Alex had broken Dylan’s heart once before. He didn’t intend for it to happen again.
Alex woke up feeling more refreshed than she had in the past few days. The only hint Dylan had shared the bed with her was the dent in the pillow next to hers and the rumpled covers. With a smile on her face she followed faint sounds to the kitchen.
“Do you think Tank will feed us again?” she asked gaily, walking into the kitchen, then stifled a scream as she realized the man standing there wasn’t Dylan.
“Ma’am.” The uniformed patrolman almost choked on the coffee he’d been drinking. “I’m sorry if I scared you. Um, Detective Parker said it was okay if I got some coffee.” He gestured toward the coffee pot while valiantly trying not to make eye contact with her.
Alex then realized her nightgown might fall to her toes
, but the semisheer fabric didn’t adequately conceal her body. She almost reached for a dish towel to cover up.
“Would you like some, ma’am?” the officer asked, looking over her right shoulder. “The detective also had me pick up some doughnuts on the way over.” He nodded toward a pink bakery box sitting on the table.
“Yes, on the coffee and donuts, thank you.” She decided it was best to act as if she encountered a strange man in her kitchen every morning. “Where is Detective Parker?”
“He was called in to the station.” The officer seemed relieved to have something to do as he retrieved a mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee.
She took that moment to escape to her bedroom to find a robe. She returned to find a coffee mug sitting on the table.
“Detective Parker didn’t think you should be here alone, so I was assigned to stay here until he got back.”
“Please, sit down.” She glanced at his nameplate above his badge. “How long have you been on the force, Officer Townsend?”
“A little over a year, ma’am.”
“Call me Alex.” She sipped the liquid, grateful it was hot and bracing. “Was Detective Parker called in because of my case?”
“I don’t know, ma—Ms. Spencer. I was just told to stay here until he got back.” He took the chair across from her, but sat as military straight as he had stood. “The detective said if I answer any questions about your case he’d have my ba—neck.”
She looked down at her mug so he wouldn’t see her smile. She should have known Dylan would cover all his bases. And she had no doubt Dylan would carry through on any punishment he promised the officer for divulging secrets.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Detective Parker you were silent as the grave,” she assured him, hopeful he would get the message.
The officer smiled, looking more relaxed than he had since he arrived. “Ms. Spencer, I’ve been married six years now. If my wife can’t get any information out of me, I don’t think you can.”
Memories After Midnight Page 13
