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CHAPTER SIX

L ight from behind him picks out his big, muscular and athletic silhouette. When he moves, he prowls like a panther. His face is in shadow, except for the hot glints of his eyes and a pointed dimple in his chin.

Liquid sparkles in his eyes seem to melt away what little clothing I have. Instinctively my hand reaches for a sheet to pull up and cover myself. With his wide brow and improbably full lips, he looks like the evil Roman centurion in a renaissance painting.

He lets out the word, Madonna , over a long sigh and his low chuckle reverberates through my core. His eyes blaze as he strides for me, all sensual, rolling muscle.

I hug my arms together across my chest and shrink back into the pillows. I can’t believe I look like anything but a total wreck in this plain, shapeless cotton gown. I can’t see my hair, but I feel it, like a thick shrub that’s been tied tight around my head.

Feelings stir deep down inside me, making me hot for this man. I can‘t trust him. I know that I shouldn’t feel this way, but that does me no good. Do I know him? He knows me, judging by the way he looks at me.

I’m shocked breathless by the size and sheer power of him as he strides to the bedside. I’m jumping inside with excitement and fear. It terrifies me that he clearly knows me well, and that I haven’t any sense of recognition. Nothing at all, other than the senses in my body.

The bang of my heartbeat, the pumping buzz in my ears and the tightening in my chest and throat all seem to tell me that I know this man. I know him well. Or, at least my body does.

“You’re awake.” His voice is thick and low. Dark, like black coffee and chocolate. His beautifully cut suit rustles like a soft wind stroking wild grasses.

He wraps his arms around me. Pulls me close. The strength and warmth of his body fold me in and I could melt, dissolve into him. While he holds me I feel like everything is okay and nothing could be wrong.

He pulls back, holding my shoulders. Searching my face. At this point I can’t tell whether I’m more shaken by my feelings for him, or by the intense hold of his eyes, as strong as the grip of his huge hands.

Whatever it is, whoever he is, my body’s instinct is to hide away from him.

But there’s nowhere I can go.

I shove myself back, as far up against the headboard as I can get, as if that would give me any kind of an escape.

Breathless, I whisper, “You kissed me.”

“You remember? Did you even know what was happening back then?” What have I done? I should have kept quiet. I feel like I’ve given myself away. Put myself up for offer, but I shouldn’t even think of giving myself to this brute. But my breath heaves for him. My hips squirm for him. I can feel my pussy weep for him.

Is it just because he has such power over me? Am I so weak and helpless? Who the fuck am I?

His eyes narrow. “I thought you were totally unconscious.”

“I was unconscious, but… ”

“Have you been faking it?”

“No!”

I cannot let him see that I’m welling up.

He comes near. “Are you sure?”

It’s hard to keep control of my body. My hands are buried in the bed covers and I know that if I let either of them come out into view, he will see how much they’re shaking.

“I had some awareness.” Even I can hear the weakness in my voice. but it’s only because I’ve just come around. He’ll see that, surely. I’ve been unconscious for…

“How long have I been here?” I nearly ask him how long I’ve been kept a prisoner here, but just in time, I change tack. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

“No. I wouldn’t. I can’t You’re in charge here.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

“I’m weak and helpless here. You can easily overpower me.” I search his eyes for clues. “You could pretty well do anything you wanted.” I blink. “You could take me, whether I wanted you to or not.” I’m hot and breathing hard.

“Would you want me to do that?” His eyes are sly.

I tell him, “Maybe you have to find out.”

I don’t know why I said that. I mean I don’t know. It can’t be an issue now, surely. Even without any mirrors, I know that I can’t be looking my best.

I wonder if that’s why they’ve covered all the mirrors.

Desperate for a change of subject, I ask him.

With an evil trace of a grin he tells me, “Not everything is about you, beautiful.”

I try to savor the word, but I’m too jumpy. He says, “Mirrors can be helpful to attackers.”

“What kinds of attackers?”

“Well, particularly snipers.”

“Snipers?” I jump. “Who the fuck are you people?”

Inside, I’m wondering, And who the fuck am I?

In spite of the savage, evil edge, he has a voice you could chase in your dreams. A voice to fall under the spell of, to carry you through the deep, dark waters of love.

But what am I? Am I a loving kind of a woman?

A dark, heavy curtain keeps me from seeing who I am, and a feeling tells me not to try and pull the curtain back. To stay safe on this side.

When I think about trying, a quiet laugh echoes in the back of my head. It feels as though it’s coming from behind my neck and it chills me rigid. I know that I must return to whoever I am, but I so much want to stay here, wrapped in the soft strength of my savage Warrior’s voice.

He studies my eyes and says, “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Should I?”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. A crash. That’s all.”

“Before the crash?”

“Not a thing.”

“Your name, where you live? Anything about your life?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I feel exposed by admitting it to him but there’s nothing I could say to cover it up. Maybe I would be able to conceal some gaps in my knowledge, but I have no knowledge to put between the gaps.

Still his eyes slide and narrow. He doesn’t believe me.

“Why would I lie?”

“Oh, I can think of a lot of reasons.” His lips tighten. “Let’s see what the doctor can uncover. It’s time he started to earn his keep.”

“Is he a good doctor?”

“How the fuck would I know? He should be. He’s the top neurologist at the UW Medical Center.”

“He seems to be here all the time.”

Now he’s looking even more suspicious. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been drifting in and out. I tried to talk but I couldn’t. When I tried to move, nobody took any notice. The only way I could get anyone’s attention was by holding my breath.” I touch his hand. He’s watching me.“You noticed that.”

“Yesterday?”

My jaw drops, “No. Was it?” I’m blinking. “I thought that was like half an hour ago.”

His lips purse as he looks at me. Then he stands. I grip his hand.

“Don’t leave me.” I plead into his eyes. “Not yet. Please.”

“I’m just going to call the doctor.”

“Wait.” I pull his hand, encouraging him to sit back on the bed with me. “He said he was coming back. Wait here with me.”

I have an idea. I tell him, “Even if it was yesterday, it was your kiss that brought me back.”

“Wait a minute… I…”

I squeeze his hand tighter and smile. “It’s okay. Nobody has to know.”

“Look, I just…”

“Really,” I stroke the back of his hand. If I’m going to escape, I will need an ally. Or at the very least I’ll need one of the men to trust me. Remembering as much as I can of the feeling in his kiss, I think he’s my best chance. My Warrior.

I don’t know what it will take, but I’ll need quite a few things before I can even think of getting out. For one thing I’ll need to be stronger. For another, I’ll need clothes.

First things first, though. A confederate, willing or unwilling is the main asset and right now, the Warrior is my best hope.

Looking into his eyes, I start to pull him toward me. His eyes soften. He’s coming closer. He could be the key.

The door opens.