When I saw the robe, I paused. It struck a familiar chord, but I couldn’t place why. Given the other crappy hotels, I was sure it hadn’t been because of them. I continued staring at it. Seeing it didn’t alarm me; it made me feel like I’d forgotten something important.
Absently, I wandered from the bathroom, forgetting to worry about my feet as I looked around again. Nothing in the kitchen or living area looked familiar, and I started to doubt the odd feeling I’d gotten.
Emmitt, who sat on the sofa, lifted his head from his hands and watched me with a sad light in his gaze. I crossed the carpet, sat beside him, and rested my head on his shoulder.
“Don’t dwell on the past. It doesn’t do any good.”
He kissed my forehead. “Go take your bath.”
Reaching around him, I gave him a quick hug then got up to inspect the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” he asked with curiosity in his voice.
“Just checking things out. Something seemed familiar, and I can’t figure out why.”
I moved to the doorway and froze. The king-sized bed with a white down comforter dominated the room. Two towels folded into swans faced each other at the end of the bed. Their heads and necks formed a heart. On the wall above the bed, a black, white, and brown abstract painting hung. To the left, long black and brown patterned curtains dominated the wall.
This was the room from the vision where I bit Emmitt. My stomach dropped, and a blush consumed my face. My stomach continued twisting nervously, and my heart gave a quick unsteady beat.
“Are you okay?” Emmitt asked quietly from behind me.
Startled, I jumped and turned. “Yep. Fine. I’m going to rinse in the shower then take a nice long soak. Let me know when the food’s here, okay?” My gaze drifted to his throat briefly before I forced it back to his eyes.
He tilted his head, probably trying to figure out what I wasn’t saying. I just smiled nervously and moved to step around him. He mirrored my move, blocking me.
“Michelle, tell me. What is it? Should we leave? Find another room?” Concern etched his face.
Despite my discomfort, I couldn’t let him worry. I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest. His heart beat strong and steady. Mine still raced.
“No. The room is fine. I just connected it with a vision I had.”
“What was the vision about?”
I made a face against his chest, not wanting to say anything, but knowing he’d think the worst, if I didn’t.
“You and me.” I pulled away, feeling nervous. Then, the filter between my brain and my mouth broke. Every thought that crossed my mind spilled from me unedited.
“I don’t want to bite you. I don’t care if it looked like you liked it or not. It’s going to hurt you, and I just don’t think I can do it. Not yet.”
He quickly masked his shocked expression and didn’t try to stop me when I fled toward the bathroom. I wasn’t nervous about being “engaged” to Emmitt. The biting part scared me. I’d bit Frank because I was angry and desperate. I’d meant it to hurt him. Granted it hadn’t, and all I had to show for it was the lingering taste of rotten soup in my mouth, but still...
I glanced back at Emmitt just before I stepped into the bathroom. He watched me with concern. I’d put him through enough lately, and as I turned away, I wished I could take back my mental spill.
I left the door ajar for comfort; I needed to be able to hear him moving around out there. Though I wasn’t about to let myself dwell on the mistake I’d made when I’d opened the door for Frank, I wouldn’t soon forget the fear.
The tub was at least halfway full, so I shut it off and moved to the shower. I was about to peel off my clothes when I realized they were the only ones I had. The hotel probably had a laundry service but what would they think of the blood that smattered my shirt? I stepped out of my shorts, but kept the rest on as I ducked in under the spray. First, I peeled off the shirt, cleaning it with shampoo until the bloodstains were gone. Then I rinsed my under things. I rung everything out and hung the clothes over the glass shower door.
The water ran pink again when I washed my hair. Would I really be Claiming Emmitt tonight with a head injury? What kind of crazed person was I? The word “tonight” echoed in my head. I needed to think about something else. I needed a toothbrush.
I ran my fingers along my scalp to assess the damage. Wincing at the sting of the shampoo, I determined the blood was from a scrape rather than a cut. Relieved there wouldn’t be a need for stitches, I hurried to rinse. Then I washed my mouth out with soap.