place it. But then, he didn’t even know who he was. Everything had happened so quickly, and he had far more questions than answers. “Do you know who I am?”
“No. Don’t you remember?”
He closed his eyes and tried to think, but the throbbing in his head drowned out all his thoughts. “I don’t. The last thing I can recall is being thirsty, and you gave me a drink. How did we end up in the water?”
“My father threw you overboard. I jumped in after you.”
“To rescue me?” He couldn’t imagine that the slender woman would have had much success dragging him aboard if he hadn’t awakened, but at the same time, he felt grateful that she’d tried.
“Yes.” She squeezed more antibacterial ointment from a tube. “To try, anyway.”
“Why did your father throw me over?”
“It’s kind of a long story.” Lillian sighed as her gentle hands eased the salt-sting on his wounds. “My parents and I have been living on this boat for the past month—that’s a long story, too. We sailed from New York to Lydia to visit my father’s older brother, David. He’s a general in the Lydian Army. I don’t like my uncle at all. He’s extremely bossy, and he pushes my dad around. My uncle told my parents that we needed to leave Lydia before the state dinner tonight.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Lillian wiped ointment from her fingers onto a towel before trimming a length of clean gauze to cover his injury. “At the time, I just thought he was being controlling. But maybe he had some inkling about what was going to happen.” She looked at him thoughtfully.
He studied her face, trying to read what she was thinking. Her blue eyes were streaked with pale gray and green, giving them an almost aquamarine undertone, stunningly beautiful, like the Mediterranean Sea.
Lillian shrugged and continued her story. “I wanted to see the royal motorcade pass by. The kingdom of Lydia has a royal family, but news about them rarely reaches the United States. I’ve seen pictures of the princesses—they’re so elegant, and always promoting humanitarian causes—but the rest of the royal family is fairly private. I just wanted to catch a glimpse…”
“Did you?”
“Hardly. Soldiers pushed everyone back, and then explosions started going off everywhere. I was afraid we’d all be killed.”
Explosions, yes. He pinched his eyes shut, shadows of memories taunting him from beyond the pain-filled recesses of his mind. Slivers of memories fell down like dust motes shaken free. “They were diversion grenades—classified as nonlethal.”
“What? You remember?” She looked startled, maybe even frightened. “How do you know that?”
But the memory melted away like a snowflake in the sun, evaporating to nothingness even as he reached for it. “I don’t know how I know.” He shook his head, wishing he could as easily shake loose the thoughts held prisoner inside. He sighed. “That might explain why I can’t remember much—the trauma from the blast must have temporarily wiped out my memory.”
“Temporarily.” Lillian repeated. “How soon do you think it will be before you get it back?”
“Hard to say. Hopefully not long. Stun grenades aren’t mean to inflict permanent damage.”
“How is it that you know that, but you don’t remember your own name?”
He thought carefully before answering. “I remember how to speak. I remember how to swim.”
“I’m grateful you remembered that much.” Her small smile seemed intended to encourage him.
It warmed his heart. He wished, for her sake, that he could remember. That he had answers to give her. She’d already helped him so much, and he’d done nothing but get her in trouble. “The concussion may have only affected one area of my brain—my personal memories. Hopefully the blast wasn’t too strong, and I’ll recover my memory soon.”
“Maybe that explains why you weren’t injured any worse than you were.” Lillian taped a bandage securely into place. “Whatever those explosions were, I thought for sure we’d all be killed. I saw you in an alley, and ran for my bike just as you did. When you climbed in the backseat I pedaled for the yacht, dumped you onboard, and we got away from Sardis as quickly as we could. But—” she took a deep breath “—my father talked to my uncle, who told him to throw you overboard.”
“Why?”
“He said you’re dangerous.” Lillian sat back, her hands on her knees as she leaned away from him as though she thought he might be dangerous, too.
“Dangerous?” He mulled over the thought.
“My uncle said you were involved with the insurgents who ambushed the royal motorcade.” Her voice grew thoughtful. “You knew what kind of grenades they were shooting.”
Sensing the uncertainty Lillian struggled with, he scrambled to think of something reassuring he could tell her. But everything beyond the last ten minutes was covered by a dark cloud, and the circumstances she’d found him in certainly sounded suspicious. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”
She let out a breath and blinked at the floor, finally meeting his eyes again. “I don’t know.”
Hope flirted with the doubt in her eyes. She wanted to trust him. He wanted to be worthy of that trust, but he didn’t know enough about his own history to know if he was. “So why are you helping me?”
“You were injured. You asked me to help you—to get you out of Lydia before they found you.”
“Before who found me?”
“I suppose it depends on whose side you’re on.” She gave him that wary, uncertain look again.
He wanted to assure her that he was a person of integrity and honor, not someone to be feared, but he couldn’t claim something he didn’t know to be true. The unknowns of his past sat between them like a live grenade that might go off at any moment.
Lillian rose to her feet. “Do you need anything? There’s drinking water there, and a few snacks.” She pointed to a small fridge that served as a nightstand. “Help yourself.”
Her hospitality surprised him. She didn’t know whether he could be trusted, and yet, she’d given up her room for him, and had gone out of her way to make him comfortable.
Lillian stopped halfway to the door. “I’ll be across the hall if you need anything. You might want to lock yourself in the room. Don’t trust my father.”
“Thank you.” He took a step forward, intending to shake her hand.
She shrank back against the door frame.
“I have no intention of hurting you.” He assured her quickly, wishing he had evidence to back up his claim. “I don’t think I’m dangerous.”
Her eyes flickered across the breadth of his shoulders, to the thick biceps that stretched the sleeves of the T-shirt he wore, up
