too long, and never with a man like him.
“Oh, well, next time,” he said as the waitress set plates in front of them.
Next time. She’d waited all her life for this time. With her luck, next time would never come.
The food was good, the music by turns loud or low and mournful. She ate, watched everyone but Martin and tried to think of something to say. When the silence was finally broken, though, it was by Martin. “What would you rather be doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you’re a million miles away. Doing what? And with whom?”
He sounded defensive, which made her answer with more honesty than she normally would have offered. “Looking for something to talk about. With you. I never really developed a talent for small talk. I learned to speak when I had something to say and not to chatter the rest of the time.”
“So let’s talk computers. You can tell me all about them.”
“Except that you don’t want to learn all about them. Your interests are more physical. Active. Outdoors.”
He grinned. “I don’t know about the outdoors part, but I do like physical and active.” His sexy grin spelled out for her exactly what he was referring to, then he controlled it. “That’s the thing about amnesia. You never know what your interests are or how they stack up against what they used to be. I like spicy food. Did I always, or is this something new? I have a weakness for blue-eyed blondes. Has that always been true, or before the accident did I prefer green-eyed redheads? Did I like country music and wear suits and work nine to five, or would I have chosen smashing a steel guitar over listening to one?”
“You may never know.”
He shook his head adamantly. “No. I can’t live with that.”
“You may have no choice, Martin.”
“No. I at least have to know if I’m—” Breaking off, he shook his head again.
If he was married? If he was a criminal? If he was someone he could bear to be? She regretted that she had no answers for him.
“Are you ready?”
“Let me stop by the ladies’ room.” She had to cross the dance floor and circle the opposite end of the bar to reach the narrow hall that led to the bathrooms. On her return trip, she didn’t make it to the end of the hall before a cowboy with the requisite beer blocked her path.
“Whoa there, darlin’. The evenin’ is young. No one’s in a hurry.”
“Excuse me.” She stepped to one side, but he blocked her again.
“I haven’t seen you in here before. Jimmy Ray knows everybody in the Saloon. I ought to, considering I spend my every evening here.”
“You’re right, Jimmy Ray, you haven’t seen me here before. Now, if you’ll excuse me—” When she tried to slip past, he caught her wrist in his free hand.
“What’s your rush, little girl? You come and have a drink with Jimmy Ray and maybe a two-step or two. I can show you a real good time.”
She bet he could, if she weren’t too smart and he weren’t too drunk. He was young and cute, and, like most women, she had a fondness for cute cowboys. Drunk, pushy and manhandling ones, though, weren’t her style.
She tried to twist free, but he held her tighter, his fingers biting into her skin. “I’m not interested in a good time. I’m going home now, so let go or—”
“Or what, sugar? What’re you gonna do?” He pulled until she was against his chest and barely able to breathe. “I’ll tell you what you’re gonna do, darlin’, you’re gonna have a dance and a beer or two with me, and then you’re gonna—”
“Let her go.”
Relief swept through Juliet at the sight of Martin standing behind the cowboy. In the cramped hallway, he looked taller, broader-shouldered and tougher than he ever had before, and his voice was cold enough to freeze fire.
“Go away, man. Find your own woman. This one’s already taken.”
She wriggled, but the cowboy’s arm was around her waist now, and all she accomplished was rubbing suggestively against him. “Let me go, Jimmy Ray,” she pleaded. “Don’t cause any trouble.”
Martin clamped his fingers around the cowboy’s arm and bent it up behind his back, freeing Juliet in the process. As she scrambled away, he shoved Jimmy Ray face first into the wall, then leaned close. “You’re right. She is taken. She’s mine. Now, apologize to the lady.”
“Listen, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was with you—”
“To her, not me.”
“It’s okay, Martin. Let’s just go—”
“Tell her you’re sorry and it’ll never happen again.”
He squirmed, but when Martin twisted his arm higher, a spasm of pain crossed his face and he became still. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean no harm.”
“And it’ll never happen again.”
“It won’t, I swear it.”
“It’s all right. Please, Martin, let him go.”
After a moment, Martin shoved him away. Jimmy Ray stumbled, hit the opposite wall, then staggered off into the men’s room, complaining as he went about the pain in his shoulder. After another moment, Martin faced her. His eyes were grim enough, his expression savage enough, to frighten her far more than the drunken cowboy ever could. She swallowed hard, then touched his hand. “Thank you.”
Slowly, the worst of the threat seeped away, and he gestured toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Darkness had fallen, but the street was brightly lit. Martin wished for shadows as they made their silent way back to the police department and Juliet’s car. This wasn’t the first time since the accident that he’d gotten into a situation that could have easily turned violent, but this was the first time that he’d wanted it to. He’d wanted to smash his fist into the cowboy’s face, to break a few bones and loosen a few teeth so that the next time the bastard wanted to harass some woman, he’d think twice.
But Martin could well imagine Juliet’s reaction if he’d taken it any further than he had. Hell, he didn’t have to imagine. He’d seen the fear in her eyes for a split second before she’d swallowed over that lump in her throat and thanked him. Fear. Of him.
They were only a few yards from her car when he finally spoke. “I would never hurt you.” But the promise didn’t come out as absolute and unwavering as he’d intended, because the awful truth was, he didn’t know whether he would. He knew he could have killed that cowboy. He knew, suspected—feared—that he’d killed in the past. When he remembered that past, when he again became the man he’d once been, who knew what he would be capable of?
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