Safe by His Side. Debra Webb
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Safe by His Side - Debra Webb страница 5
“How’s your head?”
She snapped her eyes open and jerked her attention to the right, toward the deep male voice. Every aching muscle in her body tensed, and her head screamed in protest of the sudden move.
He sat in a chair a few feet away, watching her. She blinked and then frowned. Did she know this man? He looked vaguely familiar. She inspected his features more closely. Blond hair, light blue eyes. His face was lean and angular, exceptionally handsome. He seemed tall, but it was hard to tell with him sitting down. Still, she couldn’t put a name with his face. What had he asked her? Her head…yes…how was her head?
“It…” She cleared her rusty voice and tried again. “It hurts.”
“My guess is that you have a concussion. You probably need to see a doctor. I’ll take you into town to the hospital.”
He didn’t sound as if he relished the idea. She wondered if this man had some reason to dislike her. She pushed up into a sitting position and the room spun wildly for a sickening moment. Her stomach roiled. She groaned and rested her head in her hands.
“Where am I?” she asked in a thready whisper.
“Don’t you know?”
She thought about that for a while, but no matter how hard she tried to form an answer she couldn’t. She had no idea where she was. She shook her head and immediately regretted it.
“Your license says Virginia. Is that where you’re from?”
Virginia? Was she from Virginia? She should know where she was from. If her license said so, then she must be. “Yes,” she finally told him for lack of a better answer.
He didn’t speak again for a while, but his intense gaze never left her. His close scrutiny made her uneasy. “Who are you?” she ventured hesitantly.
“What’s your name?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“What?” That was a ridiculous question. He’d seen her license, he should know her name without asking. She scanned the room once more. Besides, why would she be in a strange man’s bedroom? He must know who she was. He had to be playing a joke of some sort. Well, she didn’t want to play. Her head ached.
“Tell me your name,” he repeated sternly.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. She frowned and snapped it closed. Her name…what was her name? She had to know her own name. Panic slid through her veins.
Everyone knows their name.
She threw the covers back and stood too quickly, only to plop back onto the bed. As soon as the dizziness had passed, she stood again, a bit more slowly this time. “I have to go,” she announced as calmly as she could. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. She had to get out of here. Away from this man. Away from his questions.
“Your name is Denise.”
She silently tested the name as she took another step toward the door. Denise. It didn’t ring a bell, but if that’s what her license said… “Yes, that’s it.”
He snagged her arm and pulled her around to face him. He shook his head and swore, an ugly four-letter word. “Then why does your driver’s license say Kate?”
How had he moved up behind her so quickly, so quietly? Why was he holding her arm so tight? “I…I don’t know,” she stammered, her voice faltered as fear mushroomed inside her.
He pulled something from his pocket and placed it in her hand. A driver’s license. “That’s you.” He pointed to the picture. “Kate Roberts.”
She stared at the picture, concentrating. Was that her? She suddenly realized that she didn’t know what she looked like. Hysteria bubbled up in her throat. How could she not know what she looked like? She jerked free of his grasp and half ran, half stumbled to the dresser. She peered at her reflection in the mirror.
Terror gripped her. She didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. She moistened her lips and swallowed tightly. She looked at the reflection again, mentally inventorying the details. Dark hair and eyes, pale skin. She looked at the picture on the driver’s license once more. It was the same face. Kate Roberts, she read. Kate. That sounded right.
“Your clothes should be dry by now. When you’re dressed, I’ll take you to the hospital.” He started toward the door.
“Wait,” she called after him. When he faced her, she asked, “Why don’t I know my name? Is there something wrong with me?” The panic tightened like a steel band around her chest now. She braced her left hand against the dresser for support. The license dropped from her slack hold as her right hand fluttered to her throat where her breath had caught.
He hesitated, seeming uncertain of how to answer. “You were in a car accident. It looks as if you hit a deer. I think maybe you bumped your head pretty hard.” He shrugged. “They’ll be able to help you at the hospital.”
She released the breath she’d been holding as she watched him disappear. She turned all the way around in the large bedroom then. Absolutely nothing looked familiar. She noticed the bathroom door open and walked slowly in that direction. At least she knew she had to relieve herself, that was something.
After she’d taken care of necessary business, she picked up a comb from the vanity and fought with the tangles in her hair. She stared at her reflection. “Kate,” she whispered. She looked like a Kate—didn’t she?
When she was satisfied with the state of her hair, Kate walked sluggishly back into the bedroom. She found that if she didn’t move too quickly, the dizziness didn’t overwhelm her. The man stood quietly waiting for her. He’d piled jeans, panties, T-shirt, socks, shoes and a wrinkled blouse on the bed.
“The sooner you’re dressed the sooner you’ll get the medical attention you need.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. Kate moved to the bed and inspected the stack of clothing. Were these the kind of things she liked to wear? She had no idea.
Kate heard the door close and she looked around to find herself alone. She pulled off the huge sweatshirt and tossed it on the bed. After donning the panties, socks and jeans, she pulled on the T-shirt. Kate reached for the wrinkled blouse, but thought better of it. She’d just keep the warm sweatshirt. She sat on the edge of the bed and tugged on the high-top boots.
Kate picked up the driver’s license and tucked it into the pocket of her stiff jeans. She looked at herself again in the mirror and summoned her courage. A doctor would know why she couldn’t remember who she was. Everything would be fine just as soon as she got to the hospital.
Kate firmed her resolve and went in search of the man who had promised to take her to help. She found him in the great room warming by the fire. He’d already pulled on his coat. He stepped to the sofa and picked up a parka and a small purse. “These were in your car.”
Kate accepted the items and draped the long, narrow strap of the purse over her shoulder, then pulled on the tan-colored coat. The sweatshirt hit the tops of her thighs, the coat only came to her waist. What a fashion statement, Kate mused. But at the moment, she truly didn’t