Desperate Strangers. Carla Cassidy
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“Does my family like you? I mean... I know how my dad and my brothers can be.” Her older brothers had never liked anyone she’d dated. Why could she remember that and yet have no memories of her fiancé?
“I haven’t met any of your family and we haven’t told them about us. Uh... You wanted to keep it a secret until I put a ring on your finger.”
“You haven’t done that?” She looked down at her hand to confirm there was no engagement ring.
“Not yet.” His gaze finally met hers. “We were shopping for a ring.”
“Do we live together?”
“No. You didn’t want to live together before the wedding. You know, you should probably try to get some rest. It’s late and, needless to say, you’ve been through quite a trauma.” He smiled for the first time and a wave of heat swept through her. He had a gorgeous smile.
“Yes, of course.” She closed her eyes but sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. She still had so many questions.
The sound of the recliner chair going to a prone position let her know he was prepared to sleep. He’d probably been terrified when she’d been unconscious in the car.
She opened her eyes and gazed over to him. He’d unfolded the blanket and put the pillow behind his head. His eyes were closed but she knew he wasn’t asleep.
“Nick?”
His eyes opened and he gazed at her. Oh, she could fall into those inviting green depths.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me about the accident. What exactly happened?” She needed to know at least this much before she could fall asleep.
He released a deep sigh. “We were at your place and we had a fight.”
She raised the head of her bed. “A fight about what?”
“Something stupid. Something not worth fighting about,” he replied. “You like your house cool...cold to me. I got irritated that I needed to wear a sweatshirt in July just to be comfortable at your place. You got angry and got into the car. I jumped in the passenger seat and, before I knew what was happening, you hit the tree.”
“Where was I going?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you’re okay.” He closed his eyes again.
She lowered the head of her bed and once again shut her eyes. Maybe if she gave her brain a rest she’d wake up with all her memories restored.
Maybe when the sun came up in the morning she’d remember how very much she loved Nick and why. Despite the fact that she was safe and relatively unhurt, a dark fear whispered inside her.
If there was prison time for lies told, throughout the long night Nick had earned a life sentence. Julie’s amnesia had been both a blessing and a curse.
He now sat in the hospital cafeteria with a cup of coffee and the morning newspaper in front of him. He turned the pages slowly, a knot inside his chest as he searched for a story about a specific murder.
Had anyone seen him on the street before the accident? Had some late-night soul peeked out the window in time to see him running by? Would all of his lies come to light?
He couldn’t get the vision of Brian out of his head. Who had murdered him? And what about the strange carving in his forehead? Did it mean anything or was it just a coincidence that it looked like a V?
He checked every single page, but there was no story in the paper about that particular murder. It was possible Brian’s body hadn’t even been found yet. He lived alone and Nick couldn’t imagine the creep had too many friends.
But Nick couldn’t be sure he was out of hot water yet. He thought of the 1970’s Son of Sam killer. David Berkowitz had terrorized New York by shooting eight people before a traffic ticket had led to his arrest.
And at the moment Nick’s car was parked on a residential street where it didn’t belong. No, Nick wouldn’t breathe easier until Brian McDowell’s killer was caught. Only then would he believe he was truly safe.
He shoved the paper aside and wrapped his hands around the foam cup of coffee. The murder wasn’t his only problem. Julie Peterson. He’d intentionally taken advantage of her amnesia to save his own butt, but somehow he now felt responsible for her.
She’d made it clear when she’d awakened that morning that she was depending on him to get her through this difficult period. She’d almost begged him to promise to stay close to her until her memories returned.
He’d thought to get her home from the hospital and then disappear from her life. But how could he do that to her? How could he take away the one thing she believed was true when she was obviously struggling with her missing memories?
It didn’t help that she had beautiful blue eyes that held more than a touch of vulnerability. It didn’t help that her heart-shaped face and spill of dark hair fired up a heat inside him he found both unexpected and unwanted. What a damn mess he’d made of things.
Right now the doctor was supposed to be writing out her release orders. They would be taking a taxi home because his car was still parked on a street where it didn’t belong. He had to figure out how in the hell he was going to get it and he needed to get it as soon as possible.
Julie had complained of a headache in the wee hours of the morning and they had given her something for pain. Nick wished somebody would give him something for the festering fear that tightened his chest to the point he could scarcely breathe.
He was terrified Julie would regain her memories and yet knew the only way to exit her life was for her to regain her memories. There was nothing worse than being an attempted murderer and having a conscience. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility that she already had a boyfriend. That would be a complication he definitely didn’t need.
It was a damned quagmire and right now he couldn’t see his way out of it. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Julie, who had only been an innocent victim in all this.
He hadn’t slept at all through the night. If it wasn’t a nurse coming in to check Julie’s vitals that kept sleep at bay, it was Julie softly calling his name to make sure he was still with her.
Checking his watch, he quickly downed the last of his coffee. He needed to get back to her room. She’d be anxiously waiting for him.
And she was waiting for him. Perched on the edge of the bed and dressed in the jeans and sleeveless blue blouse she’d been in when she’d crashed her car, she held papers in her hand and her IV had been removed.
She stood at the sight of him, her smile filled with relief. “I’m free to go. I just have to wait for a nurse to bring in a wheelchair.”
Once again he was struck by her beauty.