Jed wanted to talk? She could barely breathe, let alone talk. Just being in the same room as him, almost within touching distance, was more than her will-power could bear. Over the years she’d berated herself repeatedly for her total lack of self-control that night. Never, before or since, had any man made her lose her head the way he had, and in the clear light of day, well away from the burning memories of their shared night, she hadn’t been able to understand what had happened to her.
But seeing him now, powerfully male and extravagantly handsome, she could only marvel that she’d managed to walk away from the man at all.
Raising her chin slightly, she gave him a cool smile, relieved that she was wearing trousers. At least he wouldn’t be able to see her knees shaking. ‘What did you want to talk about, Mr Matthews?’
‘Us, Brooke.’ His voice was suddenly soft, almost threatening. ‘I want to talk about us.’
Her eyes flew to his and she was immediately defensive. She had to protect herself. And not just herself.
‘I don’t think I understand you, Mr Matthews.’
A hint of a smile touched his firm mouth. ‘You understand me perfectly, and before you say anything more you should probably know that in certain circumstances I’m not renowned for my patience.’
That wasn’t how she remembered it. He’d shown endless patience on that night, taking things as slowly as she’d needed, showing a touching amount of care for her needs.
‘Mr Matthews—’
‘My name is Jed.’ He spoke slowly, with deliberate emphasis, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. ‘But, then, you can hardly be expected to know that, can you? We didn’t exactly spend the night conversing.’
Hot colour seeped into her cheeks. ‘I really haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.’
‘You’re a lousy liar.’ He covered the short distance between them in two easy strides and suddenly he was standing right in front of her, six feet two of powerfully built, very determined male. Startled, Brooke backed away but stopped dead as her shoulders hit the cold, solid wall.
‘Nervous?’ His eyes lit with grim amusement. ‘With good reason. This time there’s nowhere to run to. At least, not until I choose to let you. You owe me an explanation.’
‘I don’t owe you anything.’ This time her voice nearly gave her away, and she flinched as his eyes trapped hers.
‘Don’t play games with me!’ His voice was impatient. ‘Why did you do it, Brooke? Why did you creep away while I was still asleep? Why did you leave without a word after what we shared that night?’
Suddenly she found she couldn’t breathe very well and pushed at his broad chest in an attempt to get herself some space. He didn’t budge. She was totally cornered.
‘We didn’t share anything.’ She made one last try, knowing it was futile. This man had a mind like a razor. There was no way she would ever be able to persuade him that he was mistaken. He’d probably never made a mistake in his life. ‘It was someone else—’
‘You’re suggesting I don’t know who I’ve been to bed with?’ He raised one dark eyebrow and an ironic smile played around his firm mouth. ‘Are you questioning my morals or my memory?’
‘Neither.’ Her eyes flashed defensively and the panic threatened to choke her. ‘I’m just telling you you’re mistaken, that’s all.’
There was a heavy silence and a muscle worked in his hard jaw.
‘Are you seriously trying to convince me that it wasn’t you?’ He stared at her for a moment and then he started to laugh, a full, masculine sound that made her nerve endings tingle. ‘You are hardly easy to forget, Brooke. If you really want to blend into the rest of the female population then you’ve got some serious work to do.’
Self-consciously she lifted a hand to her dark hair, the wildness of which was still severely curbed by the tight knot she’d constructed that morning. ‘I probably just look like someone—’
‘Believe me, you don’t look like anyone except yourself.’ His tone was dry as he reached out and wound a lock of that same dark hair around his fingers.
With a sigh he lifted her stubborn chin with his free hand, forcing her to look at him. ‘I’ve only seen hair like this once in my lifetime. Stop playing games, Brooke.’
She was silent for a moment, her breathing rapid and her mind in a tangle. Suddenly she felt utterly defeated and her slim shoulders sagged. It was too much. On top of everything else it was just too much.
‘What are you afraid of?’ His voice was suddenly gentle. ‘I’m not going to force anything on you that you don’t want. I’m not going about to broadcast our relationship around the unit or embarrass you in any way. I just want you to admit the truth.’
And the truth was the one thing she couldn’t tell him. She’d decided that six years previously when she’d been forced to face the consequences of their night together…
She made a final attempt, her voice a feeble croak. ‘I don’t remember you.’
There was a long silence and he gave a soft laugh. ?
??Shall I tell you something? After that night, my brother Tom was convinced you were Cinderella. Kept trying to persuade me to chase round the hospital on my white charger with a glass slipper tucked under my arm.’