Hot and Bothered (Some Like It Hot 3)

“The two of you aren’t engaged.” He waved an impatient hand in the air. “I’ve been watching you long enough to know that the two of you weren’t ever an item, at least not before the night of your accident.”

His comment rippled through her mind, and denial rose fast and furiously. Of course, she and Noah were engaged! They lived together. She’d given him her body, her soul. She loved him.

But along with that denial came snippets of conversations she’d had with Noah, of him skirting the issue of their engagement, no ring on her finger, no wedding date set, and no straightforward answers to the many questions she’d asked about them as a couple.

More vague images appeared in her head…Noah at the bar, talking and flirting with her, walking out with her the night of the accident, and her playfully fending off his flirtatious advances. They’d been friends, acquaintances, nothing more. The memories were fresh and real and gave her no choice but to believe Chad’s words.

She and Noah weren’t engaged.

The truth crashed over her in waves, shaking the very foundation of her relationship with Noah, which in essence had been nothing more than an affair. No wonder so much hadn’t made sense to her.

“I thought you’d finally changed,” Chad went on bitterly, touching her personal items on the dresser, taking a whiff from her perfume bottle before continuing toward her. “But being the slut that you are, you moved in with him, slept with him and now you’re his whore.”

Whore. She winced, remembering Chad cursing her with that exact word the night he’d attacked her after work in Reno.

He’d claimed she was a tramp for using her body as a showgirl, and he didn’t like other men looking at her, lusting after her. Memories of her tumultuous past with Chad deluged her mind, overwhelming her—memories she would have been happy to keep suppressed but this confrontation triggered a release of recollections she couldn’t stop or escape.

Swallowing the whimper of panic rising to the surface, she kept inching backward, until her spine pressed up against the wall and she found herself cornered by Chad and the king-size bed to her left.

Knowing she was trapped, Chad continued to approach her like a savage animal anticipating pouncing on his prey. “I’ve had enough of watching you with him. Now I’m going to take back what’s mine.”

Her chance of escape was slim, but she wasn’t going to let Chad bully her anymore. She refused to be a victim any longer, refused to allow this man any power over her mind or body—as he’d had in her past.

Resolute and more determined than she’d ever been before, she sprinted to the left and dove for the bed so she could scramble across the mattress. She made it halfway across before she felt a large hand clamp around her ankle and yank her back. She flipped over just as Chad started to move on top of her, his intent clear.

He was going to assault her.

And she was going to fight for her life, without remorse or hesitation. Just as he let go of her ankle, she kicked, hard, and aimed high. Her foot connected with his jaw with a loud crack, and his head snapped back from the impact. Her other foot landed in the middle of his chest, knocking him off balance and giving her the reprieve she needed to get the hell away from him.

“Goddamn whore!” he bellowed furiously, the agony of her dual attack radiating in his eyes.

She rolled away from him and off the bed. As soon as her feet hit the floor she was running out the door and down the stairs. He was seconds behind her, cursing her and promising retribution every step of the way. Before she could reach the foyer and front door, shards of glass be damned, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to an abrupt stop.

She yelped in pain but didn’t stop moving, her arms swinging, hands punching, and legs and feet striking any body part she came in contact with. They stumbled into the living room, and she kicked him in the shin, expecting his instant reflexes to cause him to let her go.

No such luck. Another explicit curse filled the air and he shoved her down onto the floor between the couch and coffee table, pinning her there with the weight of his body. He straddled her thighs, taking away any chance she might have had to knee him in the groin.

She wanted to scream in frustration but didn’t waste her energy on something that would be of no help to her predicament.

He stared down at her, his nostrils flaring with each labored breath he took. “I’m going to take what’s mine. Right here. Right now.”

“Go to hell,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’re nothing but a hypocrite! You call me a whore, yet you have no qualms about using my body to slake your lust!”

He clenched his swollen jaw and narrowed his gaze to tiny slits. “It doesn’t matter. You’re used goods, anyway.”

Grabbing the neckline of her shirt, he ripped it right down the middle, exposing her breasts encased in a thin cotton bra. She fought to fend him off, then ceased her struggles when she caught sight of the bronze statue on the coffee table next to her. As much as it revolted her, she let his hands grope her and didn’t issue a protest when his mouth touched down on the upper slope of one breast.

Swallowing the nausea rolling in her belly, she sank her fingers into his hair in the pretense of enjoying his kisses, feigned a sigh of surrender and reached for the bronze statue. As soon as her fingers curled around the cool metal she jerked Chad’s head back and bashed the statue against the side of his head. The first hit merely dazed him. The second strike, backed with more force, rendered him unconscious.

He slumped on top of her, and with a deep sob she immediately shoved him off and crawled away from his lifeless form, the statue still clutched in her hand. She pressed her back up against the wall just as she heard the sounds of a siren and a vehicle skidded to a stop in the driveway. Seconds later, two uniformed police officers charged into the house, guns drawn—no doubt sent by the security company when she hadn’t answered the phone.

They took one look at her ripped shirt and devastated expression, coupled with the man crumpled on the floor, and came to all the right conclusions. They made sure she was physically unharmed, then proceeded to take care of Chad, locking him in cuffs and rendering him immobile so he’d be no threat when he gained consciousness.

As they called for backup and an ambulance for Chad, Natalie buried her face in her hands. She finally broke down, allowing her emotions and tears to flow freely and releasing the fear, anxiety and pain she’d kept bottled up inside of her for too long.

But mostly, she wept for the empty future without Noah that awaited her after today. She understood now that their relationship had been based on a lie, a fabrication she’d fallen for, deeply and irrevocably, when in reality she’d been merely a responsibility for Noah. He’d taken her into his home to protect her from Chad since she couldn’t recall her past, and she’d fallen for the protective ruse. But Noah had never truly been hers.

Their relationship, his family, the sense of belonging she’d experienced…it had all been a false sense of security that had now been shattered by the return of her memory.