“I’m sure you must feel so hurt,” she said, trying to push away her sudden fear. She said haltingly, “I can only imagine how it must feel, to love someone who can’t remember you.”
Do you love me? she thought desperately, trying to read his face. Do I love you?
“Shhh. It’s all right.” Lowering his head, he kissed her tenderly on the forehead. The warmth of his nearness was like the summer sun on a winter’s day. Then he lifted her chin, and his dark eyes whipped through her like a blast of heat. “Don’t worry, Eve. In time, you will remember—everything.”
Looking into his face gratefully, Eve realized that her first impression of him had been utterly wrong. He wasn’t cruel. He was kind. How else to explain the fact that he could be so gentle and patient and loving, pushing aside his own hurt to focus only on her?
She took a deep breath. She would be as brave as he was. Pushing the blankets aside, she said over the lump in her throat, “I’ll get dressed to go.”
He stopped her. “Wait. There’s something else we need to talk about.”
She knew instantly what he meant to discuss. And without the barrier of blankets between them, in just her paper-thin hospital gown, she felt painfully bare, vulnerable in every way. She yanked the blankets back over her body, tugging them halfway to her neck.
“He told you, didn’t he?” she whispered.
His voice was low, almost grim. “Yes.”
“Are you happy?” Her voice trembled. “About the news?”
She held her breath as his darkly handsome face stared down at her. When he finally spoke, his voice was charged with some emotion she didn’t recognize.
“I was surprised.”
She searched his gaze. “So the baby wasn’t something we planned?”
His hands tightened, twisting the blanket in his grip. He glanced down at it, then looked at her.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said in a low voice. His black gaze hungrily caressed her face. With his fingertips, he brushed some dark tendrils from her cheek. “No makeup. Bare.”
She tried to pull away. “I’m sure I look terrible.”
But he drew her closer. His eyes were dark as he looked down at her, making her shiver from deep within.
“Are you happy about the baby?” she said softly.
He put his arms around her. “I’m going to take good care of you.”
Why wouldn’t he answer? She swallowed, then lifted her head to give him a weak smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not an invalid. I hope the amnesia will disappear in a day or two. Dr. Bartlett said something about a specialist—”
His arms tightened around her, cradling her against his hard chest.
“You don’t need another doctor,” he said roughly. “You just need to come home with me.”
She could feel the beat of his heart against her cheek through his black button-down shirt. She was enveloped in his masculine scent, sandalwood and amber, exotic and woodsy. Against her will, she closed her eyes. She breathed in his smell, heard the beat of his heart, felt his warmth.
Everything else faded. The private hospital room, the nurses and doctor visible through the window of the door, the sound of one of Talos’s men speaking urgently into his cell phone in some language she didn’t recognize, the antiseptic smell, the beeps of the machines…it all faded.
There was only this.
Only him.
Held securely in his strong arms, for the first time since her accident she felt safe and loved. She felt as if she had a place in the world. With him.
He kissed her hair softly. She felt the warmth of his breath, the hot caress of his lips, and a tremble went over her. Fear? Longing?
Did he love her?
She reached upward, cupping his rough jawline with her hands. Though his clothes were sharply pressed, the dark shadow on his chin suggested he’d changed clothes on the plane without bothering to shave. He’d rushed here from Australia. He’d flown all night.