The interior of the cockpit was like the garage itself, neat and clean, and a panel had been pulled aside to reveal the treatment area.
The patient was still lying where he had been, on that stainless steel table, the sheet draped over his lower body. As if he sensed her presence, his head turned and he looked at her—
With a desperation that she did not understand, he reached out… and Erika did not even try to hold herself back from him. For reasons she would worry about later, she threw herself across his bare chest and held on to him.
“I thought you were dead,” she said through tears she couldn’t stop.
“So did I,” he replied hoarsely.
As his heavy arms wrapped around her and held her tightly, she took the first deep breath in what felt like a year.
Or maybe an entire decade.
CHAPTER TWENTY
To Balz, it was the most natural thing in the world to hug this human woman so close. Even though he was weak in his body, his soul was rock solid and that was where the strength to raise his arms came from. This moment, this vital, transcendent moment, was what he’d fantasized about since he’d first seen her.
And what he’d sacrifice the Fade for if it saved her.
“Are you okay,” he croaked.
When she shook her head, he hated what she had seen him do… what she had heard Devina say.
“I don’t know what happened back there,” she whispered. “What you were fighting… what you did…”
Her lips were moving against his shoulder, and her scent was in his nose, and her voice was all he could hear—and the combination of all that was a short-out he didn’t want to fight. He’d rather stay where he was, submerged in so much of her.
But he didn’t want to leave her question high and dry, and she deserved an honest answer. Not that he had a good one.
“I’m so sorry,” he said in a thin voice.
Her head lifted and he got to look into her hazel eyes properly. Her hair was a mess, all kinds of flyaways framing her face, and she had a scrape on her cheek that made him want to call Manny over and schedule her OR time.
Even though the thing probably just needed a Band-Aid.
“Hi,” he whispered like a lameass.
Erika brushed her own hair back. Then she opened her mouth and her tense expression made him think she was going to say something briskly. But then she closed her lips and went quiet.
It was a while before she spoke again. Which was fine. He was content to memorize her up close. She had what looked like a chicken pox scar off to the side of one eyebrow, and half of her upper lip was a little higher on the left side. She had a mole on her cheek, right in the place that Marilyn Monroe used to draw one on. And no contacts. Her eyesight was evidently 20/20 without correction.
Made sense to him. She was perfect, after all.
“You came back there,” she said roughly, “to save me.”
“You’re damn right I did.”
Her lids closed briefly. “I don’t know from what, though. And the weird thing is, I’m not sure it matters.”
“It doesn’t.”
When she looked at him again, there was a reserve to her, and he knew where she’d gone. “I’m sorry you had to see me do that,” he said before she could comment.
“I’m sorry you felt like that was what you had to do.”
Her eyes drifted down to the front of his throat. Then she flushed and straightened. After a moment, she grimaced and rubbed her temple.
Crap. She was poking that memory patch again. “Erika…”
“How do you know my name?” With an abrupt shift, her eyes left his and traveled around the inside of the mobile OR. He was willing to bet she didn’t see much of the medical equipment. “But this was not our first meeting, was it. Did you ever introduce yourself to me before?”
There was sadness in the words, and a helplessness, too. Both ate him alive.
“Don’t lie to me,” she murmured. “Not after a night like tonight. After everything we went through, I’ve earned the truth, don’t you think.”
“Balthazar. That’s my name.”
Her eyes came back and her head tilted a little as she regarded him. “It suits you.”
“You’ve made my night. Unless that’s not a compliment.”
Her smile was pretty much the best thing he had ever seen, but he wasn’t surprised it didn’t last very long.
“How many times?” When he frowned in confusion, she cleared her throat. “How many times have you introduced yourself to me.”
Fuck. “Only once.”
“And how many times have we met.”
Well, if you count my fantasies… “Twice.”
And even though it was causing so many problems for her, he just wanted to do more scrubbing. He wanted to sanitize what she knew of him until to her, he was just a regular male—