“I will.” She blinked to stay calm. Shane was trusting her. Not only to keep herself safe but to protect him. Hope flared hot through her. As well as caution. She needed to protect herself from having her heart broken yet again. Although the indecision in his eyes was new. “You’ve changed.”
“It’s been two years. I assume we both have.” He stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes. “Go to sleep. Morning will arrive way too soon.”
Less than a minute and his breathing evened out. She smiled as memories assailed her. He’d always fallen asleep so easily, almost as if he could control it. Almost as if he had to take rest when available.
The smile slid away.
When they’d met, they’d had a lack of family in common. She’d thought he was like her, raised in different foster homes, never quite fitting in. Then the nightmare, when he let the truth slip. He had brothers she’d never met. When she’d asked about them, Shane said they weren’t close, and that had been the end of the subject.
She should’ve pushed harder to understand him. But being alone, relying on herself, that was all she knew. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d held back. Perhaps trust earned trust. Throw two broken people together who don’t know how to live with others, and you get pain. What a disaster.
Soft light filtered through the cheap shades, caressing the hard planes of his face. So handsome. Straight nose, rugged cheekbones, and those sensuous lips. But his eyes. Magic and fire lived in their odd gray color. She still saw those in her dreams.
With his amnesia, more of his true self had emerged. The parts of him he’d hidden from her, she could finally see. Was there a chance he might let her into his life? In fact, he was even trusting her. But… what would happen when his memories came back? Would he draw away and break her heart again? Or would he stay?
He twitched. Then gave a low moan. Pain suffused the sound.
Her heart lurched. Her mind spun.
During their brief marriage, although he’d had no clue, she’d learned how to soothe his nightmares. To help him rest and get needed sleep. It was so easy and natural—and just took a soft whisper and touch. No matter who he was, she could only be herself. If he was in pain, she couldn’t sit by and watch. She didn’t want to be a person who’d sit by and watch.
An agonized growl rumbled from his chest.
Oh, this was a bad idea. She crept forward, gingerly resting one knee on his bed. Reaching his side, she snuggled down, her head on his outstretched arm. Warm cedar filled her senses. She placed her hand over his heart. “It’s okay, Shane. Only good dreams tonight,” she whispered. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes and let darkness take over.
*
Shane kept his breathing even, his body relaxed. His heart thumped against her palm. Awakening, he’d heard her move from the bed and had wondered. Would she head for the door? No. She hadn’t. The woman had cuddled up with danger to provide comfort for him. Security. Love.
His heart warmed until it hurt. Vulnerability and need filtered through him, followed by determination. He didn’t know how the hell he’d lost her before. No matter what it took, no matter who he had to walk through, he wouldn’t lose her again.
A truck passed by on the interstate, and he calculated the weight load and speed. A cricket chirped outside, and he identified the species. A woman breathed deep next to him, and he measured her heart rate. With his hearing.
He knew every way to kill a person, and he could do so without hesitating. In fact, hesitating didn’t seem to be part of his makeup. What kind of a monster didn’t feel anything when he killed? People should fear monsters. So far, nothing scared him—nobody could stop him. He closed his eyes against the reality that if his memories came back, he’d be the one thing he feared.
Josie sighed next to him, and he could hear her lungs fill with air.
Jesus. Who the hell was he?
Chapter 11
Josie mumbled to herself, her head bent over the figures laid out on her desk. Her head ached. She needed to get dimmers on the lights in her office. The room was almost perfect with the thick desk she’d chosen to match the chairs. Prints of famous Western oil paintings lined the walls.
Although it had taken her all day and several pots of coffee, she’d found one of the problems in the Larson Corporation file—a mistake in the revenue figures. How freaking high had Billy been the last year while doing the corporation’s books? This was malpractice and not some minor math mistake. She’d have to meet with the client soon.
She tugged her gray skirt smooth. Thank goodness she’d had a change of clothing and makeup bag at work.
A blond head poked in the door. “I’m heading home, boss.”
Josie glanced up and forced a smile for her secretary. “Home or out for some fun?”