[Kate's Boys 02] - The Bride With No Name

by Marie Ferrarella

  A restlessness continued to consume her. “So’s not knowing who you are.”

  The doctor took a step away from the bed, as if ready to move on. “Well, know this. You’re a very lucky young lady that this man was there to save you.” He addressed his next words to Trevor. “She needs to come back in two weeks if she isn’t herself by then.” Taking out his prescription pad, he wrote something down on the top page, then tore it off. He held the page out to Trevor. “These are to deal with the pain should she have any,” he added. “Feel better,” he said, then walked quickly away.

  Leaning over, Venus took the prescription from Trevor. Not a single word of it made any sense. Just like the jumbled mess in her brain. She sighed. “He seems to think you’re in charge of me.”

  Trevor tried to lighten her obvious dour mood. “Maybe he’s aware of the custom I told you about earlier. I saved your life, now it’s mine to protect and do what I want with.”

  Folding the prescription, she started to put it in her pocket, only to realize that she had no pockets and no other place to put the folded piece of paper. With another sigh, she held the prescription out to him.

  “I guess you get to hang on to this until I can get a purse—which I can’t because I have no money, no identity,” she realized. Venus bit the inside of her lip to keep from uttering a string of less than flattering words about her dilemma.

  “Sit tight,” he instructed, “I’ll get this filled for you at the hospital pharmacy.”

  “Wouldn’t they be closed?” She looked at a wall clock directly to her right. “It’s after midnight.”

  “The hospital pharmacy is opened twenty-four/seven,” he assured her. “My whole family uses this place. Can’t get better care than here.”

  She nodded as she slid off the side of the bed.

  He stopped walking away. “What are you doing? I just said—”

  “I’m coming with you.” There was no room for debate. Her tone was firm. “And then, after we fill that, we can leave. The sooner we get out of here, the better.” When she saw him eyeing her quizzically, she told him, “I don’t like hospitals. I don’t know why I don’t, but I don’t.” And then she hesitated. Nothing about her was written in stone, she thought helplessly. “At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

  Trevor could empathize. If he were in her place, if the family he loved were erased from his mind, he wouldn’t know how he would cope. “It’ll all clear up soon,” he promised.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” she murmured.

  Trevor cut off the engine. They were here. At the homeless shelter, the one he donated all his leftovers to. The one Kate volunteered at whenever her schedule permitted and where he, his brothers, sister and parents had spent more than one Thanksgiving working the kitchen.

  St. Anne’s was clean, had been renovated less than two years ago and the staff consisted of kind, decent people. There was no reason in the world for him to hesitate in bringing Venus here. They’d take good care of her. They were accustomed to helping the lost, though she was just a little more lost than most.

  And yet, he did hesitate. Maybe because St. Anne’s was a homeless shelter and somehow, that very fact seemed demoralizing. Venus had already been through enough tonight.

  “You’ll be all right here,” he told her, trying to convince himself more than her.

  She nodded. “You already said that. Twice.” She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the latch inside the car. But as she began to open the passenger door, Trevor suddenly stepped on the accelerator. They were moving away from the curb.

  “Hey,” she protested, pulling the door shut. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you someplace else” was all he said.

  Chapter Four

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, rebuckling her seat belt as he made his way down the block.

  Where.

  That was a very good question, Trevor thought. One he couldn’t answer. Where did he take a woman who had no memory of life that went back more than four hours into the past?

  If this was the middle of the day, he would have taken her to the nearest police precinct and had them handle it. But she couldn’t sleep in a police station and she’d told him earlier that she was tired.

  She had to be even more tired now. The police station could wait until morning, he reasoned. There was plenty of time for her to fill out the paperwork needed to help find out who she was.

  But right now, the woman whose life he’d saved was in need of a bed.

  His first impulse was to bring her to his parents’ house. He could count on Kate not only to take in Venus, but also to make her feel welcome. And his father went along with almost anything Kate wanted because her heart was always in the right place. Though at times contrary, it was a known fact that Bryan Marlowe doted on his wife.

  To appear on their doorstep with a stranger in tow at this time of night would have been a total imposition. They were most likely asleep by now. It wouldn’t be fair of him to do that to his parents unless he had no other choice.

  And he did, Trevor thought. He could always take her to his place.

  Trevor slanted a glance at the woman beside him and wondered how she’d react to that. Would she just go along, or would she think that he had an ulterior motive? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. These weren’t the most innocent of times.

  “Where are you taking me?” Venus repeated when he didn’t answer her question.

  He kept his eyes on the road. “I’m taking you to my place.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her toss her head. Curls the color of flame bounced about her head. “I don’t think so.”

  So much for just going along with it. “I’ll take the couch,” he offered. “You can have the bedroom. It has a lock on the door,” he added quickly before she could utter another protest.

  “You can pick a lock.” She snorted.

  “Picking locks isn’t a skill I’ve ever acquired,” he said matter-of-factly, still watching the road. The streets were well-illuminated, but the cover of darkness drew out the drunk drivers, promising to hide them well. Until the point of impact. He was always extra alert driving home after closing up.

  He heard Venus blow out an impatient breath. “What are my other options?”

  He’d had a hunch she’d ask. “I can turn around and go back to the homeless shelter, or I could drop you off at the police station.”

  “That’s it?”

  For the time being, Trevor decided to omit mentioning his parents’ house. “That’s it.”

  Venus was silent for a moment. He could almost hear her mulling over the pros and cons. “That lock on the bedroom door really work?”

  He could tell what went through her mind. Should he be insulted or flattered? He did want her to understand he wasn’t the type to take advantage of a woman—ever.

  “Venus, we were alone on the beach and alone in the restaurant. If I’d wanted to do anything with you or to you, I’d have already done it. I don’t need to take you to my apartment for that. Understood?”

  “Understood.” Her next question came out of nowhere and took him by surprise. “Then you don’t find me attractive?”

  Wow, talk about getting thrown a curve. “I didn’t say that.” He supposed even a woman with amnesia needed to have her self-esteem reinforced. “What I am saying is that whatever appetites I might have I can keep under control. You don’t have anything to worry about from me.” He eased his foot off the gas, ready to make a U-turn if he had to. There was no one else on the road for now. “Okay, the choice is up to you. Homeless shelter, police precinct or my apartment. Which will it be?”

  Venus was silent for a moment, thinking. The man made a compelling argument for trusting him. But she couldn’t help wondering if she would regret this. Still, something inside of her trusted him, although she couldn’t have said why.

  “Your apartment.” And then she frowned.

  He glanced at her before e
asing back on the accelerator. She still looked uncomfortable. Why? Did she want to change her mind?

  “What?”

  Venus shrugged, feeling helpless as she wandered through this murky mental maze. “I’m trying to remember if I know any self-defense disciplines.”

  Trevor laughed shortly. The woman was not the trusting type. He supposed that was a good thing. In the same situation, he wouldn’t want his sister, Kelsey, to be blindly trusting.

  “You won’t need them,” he assured her. And then he smiled. “We’re even on this, you know.”

  Her frowned deepened as she looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “For all I know, you could be a ticking time bomb. This might not have registered with you, but I’m opening my place up to a complete stranger who might just be lying to me.”

  She didn’t seem to hear the comment about lying. “A complete stranger who’s—” she looked at the clock on the dashboard “—approximately four hours old, give or take, if you go by the length of my memories.”

  He empathized, knowing how frustrated he would feel in her position. “That’ll improve soon.”

  God, she so wanted to believe him. “You really believe that?”

  His expression was a portrait of sincerity. “Yeah, I do.”

  But she needed more than that. She needed logical reasons. Reasons the doctor in the E.R. really hadn’t provided. “Why?”

  “Because I’m basically an optimist.”

  That wasn’t what she was hoping to hear. Venus sighed. “Well, I hope you’re right, optimist. I really hope you’re right.”

  So do I. But Trevor kept the thought to himself.

  Sunflower Creek Apartment Homes was a complex composed of nearly two hundred garden apartments, none standing taller than two stories. Trevor’s was one such apartment, on the second floor. It was halfway between the center of the complex where the community pool was located, and the car ports. The upshot was that particular area was fairly quiet.

  At one in the morning it was almost eerily so.

  Staying close, Venus followed her rescuer up a flight of stone stairs. The paper slippers she’d gotten from the E.R. swished against each step as she crossed them. She still had on his jacket, but the breeze found its way under the skirt of her dress, sliding along her bare legs and making her shiver.

  For some reason, the cold reminded her how truly needy she was, at least for the moment.

  Unlocking his door, Trevor walked in and turned on the light, then looked over his shoulder.

  “C’mon in,” he coaxed. He took a guess at the reason for her apparent apprehension. “There’s no one else here, Venus.”

  “Is there usually someone here?”

  “Not when I’m not here.” About to put his keys down on the counter, Trevor thought better of it. He tucked the keys back into his pocket. Just in case. It was better to be safe than sorry.

  And then he thought of something. “Wait here a second,” he told Venus as he went to the rear of the apartment and his bedroom.

  Venus barely nodded in response. Instead, she stood there, looking around, feeling she had no idea what, wishing at least one thing could come back to her, however small.

  But nothing did.

  This was awful. She didn’t even know if she was a nice person or not. Were there people out searching for her? Or were they just glad that she’d disappeared?

  Or, worse, was she alone and no one even knew she was missing?

  In the background, she heard a wardrobe door being slid back and forth. Her frown returned. What was that all about?

  The thought no sooner formed in her head than Trevor returned to the living room. He held a blue pullover sweater, a pair of jeans and a pair of almost brand-new sneakers.

  “These might fit you,” he said, laying everything out on the coffee table.

  Venus looked at the three items for a long moment. The clothing looked to be her size. Did they belong to his wife? To his girlfriend? And where was the woman who belonged to these clothes?

  She raised her eyes to his. “Well, they’re too small for you, so I’m guessing this means you’re not a cross-dresser. Won’t whoever they belong to mind my wearing them?” she asked.

  She was being flippant again. He was becoming familiar with the way her mind worked. She was flippant when something made her uncomfortable. Except that right how, he hadn’t a clue what that might be.

  “I sincerely doubt it, or she wouldn’t have forgotten them when she left.”

  She. It struck Venus that “she” was a very ambiguous pronoun and she was in no mood for more problems or complications. “‘She?’”

  “Someone I thought I knew,” was all he said.

  There was no point in going into the single largest disappointment of his life. While they were together, he’d thought Alicia was the one, the woman he was meant to spend the rest of his life with, the way his father was meant to spend the rest of his with Kate. But he’d been too busy trying to lay the foundations down for a future for them. He’d realized too late that they’d not only drifted apart, but she had also gone paddling in a completely different ocean.

  He’d come home early one evening, a bottle of champagne in his hand, determined to surprise her. He turned out to be the one who was surprised. He’d found her packing. Someone else was in her life, she told him matter-of-factly, for several months now and it had turned serious. They were getting married. She was leaving him and nothing he could say would make her stay.

  Stunned, hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to ask Alicia to remain, to try to work out their problems. Asking was tantamount to begging as far as he was concerned and a relationship based on begging wasn’t worth having—or saving.

  “I’m not sure about the sneakers,” he went on as if Venus hadn’t asked him anything. “But for now, they’re better than nothing. We can see about getting you a better pair of shoes tomorrow.”

  We. Tomorrow. He was making plans for her, about her. Without asking. Part of her felt protected, the other part felt threatened and trapped.

  A quip shot to her lips. She pressed them together, hard, holding back the remark and banking down the urge to deflect any offers of help. She needed help and she knew it. God knew she was in no position to just march off on her own. She had no money, no memory and, without Trevor, no shoes.

  Definitely not the mistress of her own fate, she thought, hating the feeling. She supposed, in all fairness, it could be worse.

  Mustering the best smile she could, her mouth curved only a little as she murmured, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. Bedroom’s right through there.” He pointed it out to her.

  Venus picked up the sweater, jeans and sneakers, holding them against her. She started to go, then stopped. Trevor was taking the decorative pillows off the sofa. Aware that she had stopped walking out of the room, he looked at her.

  “Something wrong?”

  Other than not being able to remember who the hell I am, no, nothing’s wrong. Everything is ginger-peachy. “I feel bad, chasing you out of your own bed like this,” she confessed.

  “You’re not,” he told her. “I offered you the use of the room, remember?” He nodded again toward the bedroom, indicating that she should leave. “See you in the morning, Venus.”

  Venus, goddess of love. She didn’t feel like a goddess right now. Unless it was that armless one. Venus de Milo, was it? The name sounded right, but she just wasn’t sure.

  Wasn’t sure about anything.

  “G’ night,” she murmured, clutching the clothes he’d given her to her chest as she walked out of the living room.

  Trevor discovered his couch was not fashioned for comfort as a bed. As a torture rack, it had definite possibilities. He wasn’t one of those overwrought creatures whose thoughts and worries kept him awake for half the night. Falling asleep and staying there was not a recurring problem for him.

  But sleeping on a rock-hard surface was not a skill that
he’d honed. He tossed and turned for most of what was left of the night, then fell asleep some time after four.

  The smell of food woke him.

  Specifically, the aroma of coffee, deep, rich and inviting, penetrated the perimeters of his ragged rest, breaking down the flimsy walls surrounding him.

  That and the scent of freshly made pancakes.

  His eyes flew open.

  For a moment, disorientation hovered over his brain. By virtue of the aroma, he figured he was home. The home where he had grown up. And Kate was making breakfast for all of them the way she used to.

  Blinking, his surroundings came into focus, as did his mind, and his aching back.

  He was in his apartment, alone.

  No, not alone. He’d brought someone home with him last night.

  Someone who was currently in his kitchen? It seemed like the logical assumption, except that he would have bet money that the woman he’d saved from a watery grave didn’t know her way around the kitchen.

  Showed what he knew.

  Sitting up, Trevor slipped his loafers back on his feet. He’d slept in his clothes, fully dressed in order to seem less threatening to his impromptu houseguest. Running his hand through his sandy-colored hair, smoothing it down as best he could, Trevor went into the kitchen.

  She was wearing the clothes he’d given her. Wearing them differently than Alicia, he noted. Her figure was curvier. Her back was to him, but he could see that she was doing something on the stove. Something that smelled damn good.

  “Morning,” he said.

  She almost dropped the frying pan. The shriek escaped her lips before she could stop it. She turned to glare at him, one hand gripped around the handle of the frying pan, the other hand splayed across her chest, trying to keep her heart from leaping out.

  “Do you always sneak up on people like that?” she demanded.

  It seemed useless to point out that he wasn’t trying to sneak up on her, that he’d attempted to announce himself as best as possible.