Dangerous Embrace (Embrace #1) (2 page)

The woman reached out for him. “No, Mark, don’t—“

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and rushed into the dark in the direction Sarah had come.

Sarah hugged herself and dropped her head, trying to breathe. When the jacket fell off her shoulder, she looked down at her ripped clothes just as her vision narrowed into a dark tunnel.

Sarah pried open her heavy eyelids and turned, trying to focus on the clock.

“Ow, dammit!” She clenched her teeth and looked down at the sling tied to her arm. The smothering realization pressed on her chest. When the nausea hit, she flung the covers off and rushed to the bathroom, fighting to get to the toilet before her stomach heaved.

When the painful dry heaving stopped, she lay back on the cold tile floor, exhausted, and waited for the room to stop spinning. Her ragged breaths roared in her ears and seemed to echo in the quiet room. When her breathing slowed, the silence ebbed around her in waves, but when footsteps approached the bathroom door, she tensed again.

A bead of sweat dripped down her scalp, and at the same time someone tapped at the door. Her pulse spiked, and she fought like hell to remember who brought her home from the hospital.

She closed her eyes.

“Who’s there?” The waver in her voice pissed her off.
Gawd—please don’t let me be pathetic in front of whoever this is.

A hesitant and completely unfamiliar man’s voice said, “Are you all right? Do you need something?”

Sarah sucked in a hard breath. “Um...” She exhaled slowly. “Who are you?”

“Mark Summors.”

She stiffened and tried to sit up.

“Do I know you?” she asked, her voice pitching.

“I can explain if you open the door.”

She steadied herself against the bathtub. The sling had slipped up her arm, exposing the trail of bruises. She swallowed another wave of nausea and tried to put the pieces together.
Mark Summors?

She glanced around for something to use as a weapon just in case. Then she wanted to laugh—and cry. Who the hell was she kidding? She rolled her eyes.
Good plan, Sarah, take on a strange guy with a toilet brush.

“Can I come in?” His voice was muffled as if he was resting his face against the door.

“Go ahead.” She clamped her mouth closed to suppress a shiver and mumbled, “It’s unlocked.”

The door eased open and a cup of water shot out at her.

“Oh, thank you,” she cried out, relieved to wash the disgusting film out of her mouth. She snatched the cup out of his hand and gulped it, letting her eyes lift above the rim to see his face.

“Ah.” Sarah choked and inhaled the water. She set the cup down, almost upending it as she dropped it.

“Oh my God!” She would never forget those intense, blue eyes, just like she would never forget the smell of her attacker’s breath. They were all thrown together in the same horrifying memory.

He waved in surrender, his eyebrows drawn together. “I’m sorry...I’ll explain, but you have to calm down.”

She shook her head, still coughing. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Why are you here, in my house...”

“You didn’t have an emergency contact, and I couldn’t leave you alone.”

She cleared her throat. “Since when—what time is it?”

“My mom and I brought you home from the hospital at about three this morning.”

“Three o’clock—what time is it now?”

He glanced at his watch. “Almost midnight.”

She rubbed at her throat. “So, it’s Saturday...Sunday?”

“It’ll be Sunday in ten minutes. You slept through Saturday. Do you want help getting off the floor?” He held his hand out for her.

She looked at his face, and then his hand. “Ah, thanks, but I can manage on my own.”

He backed up a step as Sarah tried to push herself up.

When she winced, he stepped forward and reached out for her. She jerked away and fell back against the tub. Heat rushed her cheeks, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the floor to look at him again. She hugged herself, trying to stop the fluttering spasms taking over her body.

Mark stepped back, mumbling an apology. “I’ll just...give you some privacy.”

She watched his feet inch back out of the room. “Thanks.”

With her good hand, she braced herself against the edge of the bathtub and lifted up off the floor.

She closed the door and looked in the mirror.
What a mess.
Besides the bruises on her arms, her left shoulder was black from the top of her elbow to the base of her neck, and it hurt like hell. The sight was cringeworthy for sure. If it didn’t hurt so much, she would’ve thought someone painted it on. The tenderness made it impossible to touch, and beyond the bruising, fine, red scratches covered one side of her face and neck.

Bruises also colored her cheekbones, the black and purple standing out against her pale skin. She reached up and picked a twig out of one of her curls. With a quickened pulse, she ran a finger along the angry scratch that traveled her jaw and remembered waking up in the bushes.

Sleeping for an entire day didn’t make this less real. It had not been a bad dream. The bubble of safety she’d envision around her had burst.
How did this keep happening?
For some reason she’d thought a stranger attack would be less painful, but she never imagined she’d have the opportunity to compare.

She shook off the anxiety and took a deep breath, then gingerly took off the sling and slipped on her robe. Before tying the front, she stopped and plucked at the hem of her tank top.
Uh—how?

Think, Sarah, how did you get inside the house? How did you change your clothes?
She remembered Mark helping her out of the car, but nothing else.

Sarah crept to the side of her bed, looking for her slippers. Sitting on the tiled bathroom floor had made her body rigid with cold, and now every injury throbbed as she inched through her bedroom.

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee drifted in.

“Oh thank God,” she whispered, following the scent. She hobbled out of her bedroom through the living room, toward the kitchen where Mark sat waiting and the coffee pot percolated softly.

She looked at the unfinished coffee. “Thank you.”

“I wasn’t sure you would want coffee, but I thought just in case...” He shrugged his shoulders, making his uneasiness known.

“Coffee should help clear the fog.” She hesitated and struggled to pull herself up on one of the barstools with her good arm. When she was seated comfortably, she looked at him and then down at herself.

She tugged her robe closed. “I don’t remember much.”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Yeah, my mom helped you get dressed when we got here.”

“Right...your mom is Beth Summors.” She nodded now as the memory cleared some. “She runs the after-school center next to the school.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I was picking her up from work. How’s the shoulder feel?”

“It’ll be fine. I’m not sure what the sling was for...”

“You don’t remember having your shoulder pushed back into the socket?”

She shook her head.

“It was dislocated.” His expression darkened as he said it. “Does it hurt? You have a prescription of pain killers if you need something.” Mark gestured toward the pill bottle next to the coffee pot.

“Ah, no.”

It was obvious her refusal worried him.

“I want to be clearheaded for a while before I go numb again. It’s a pretty weird feeling, you know, waking up with a strange man in my house—and not knowing what day it is.” She narrowed her eyes and said, “Why are you here?”

“We didn’t want to leave you alone and you wouldn’t let us call anyone.”

“Thanks for staying.” She looked around now, too embarrassed to admit just how grateful she was to have someone there with her. “Beth isn’t here?”

“I finally talked her into going home. She’s a caretaker by nature and wouldn’t agree to leave you until I promised to stay.”

“I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble. I appreciate it, but I could've managed.” She tried to sound stronger than she felt. Normally being alone with a stranger in her house would make her uncomfortable, but she was too relieved to be uncomfortable.

“I’m glad we were there to help, and I’m glad you’re...okay.” The softness of his voice made her feel a little guilty for questioning him.

She got to her feet and walked stiffly over to the coffee pot to pour a cup. “Would you like some?”

“Sit down. I’ll get it.”

“I can handle...”

“I’ve got it.” He wrestled the pot from her hands and filled two mugs.

Sarah stared at him, not sure how to respond to his manhandling her coffee carafe.

“I’m not completely helpless,” she said, struggling to get back onto the barstool.

“No—yeah.” He gestured to the stool. “You’ve got everything under control.”

He actually had the nerve to smile at her when he said it. As if she cared about the cute little dimple on his left cheek.

“Well, Mark, thanks again for your help. Sorry you can’t stay longer, but I need to get back to bed.”

Mark ran a hand through his short, chocolate brown hair. “Sorry. I really am only trying to help.” His eyebrows drew together. “Do you even remember what happened to you last night?”

She lowered her eyes and fought the slow suffocating pressure that overcame her. The things that might have happened...

“Are you okay?”

“Yes...fine.”

“Do you remember anything?” His voice softened again, and she glanced up at him.

“Some.
Enough.
It’s kind of fuzzy though.”

“I’m not surprised, between the trauma and the drugs they sedated you with.”

“They sedated me?”

“Yeah...you were pretty out of it. Do you remember being at the hospital, talking to the police?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

He sat quietly for a long moment, and then said, “Do you have someone who can stay with you?”

“I don’t need help.” She thought about calling her mother and cringed. She didn’t have the strength to deal with that invasion. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“You don’t have any family?”

“Not nearby. My parents live out of state.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. You can call someone in the morning to come help you.”

She jerked her head up to look at him. “No—no, I’ve imposed too much already.” Her eyes traveled his face, taking in the dark circles and disheveled hair. “You look completely exhausted and I’m—I
will
be fine.”

Mark rubbed at the scruff on his chin. “Yeah, I must look pretty frightening myself. I stayed awake, thought you would need someone when you woke up.”

Sarah started to refuse again, but before she could, she saw the concern etched in the lines of his face. A complete stranger—the emotion and the fear for her was all there in his deep blue eyes. As she looked at him, she couldn’t deny the sincerity she read on his face and felt as if she needed to comfort him. What had he gone through over the last two days? She would have said something to show her gratitude, but she was too busy fighting tears. Usually she guarded herself better around people.

“I’m sorry,” he said in reaction to her tears.

“No, I am.” She cleared her throat and waved off his apology. “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this mess. I’m sure your wife is furious with you.”

“No, she doesn’t know anything about it.”

“What? Your wife doesn’t know where you are?” she shot back at him, her face getting hot.

He raised his hand in defense. “My ex-wife, sorry, didn’t mean to confuse you. I’m divorced.”

“Oh,” she said, lifting a hand to her chest. “I was about to feel even more guilty. I’m not comfortable with you uprooting your life to babysit me. You don’t even know me.”

“There’s no need to feel guilty at all,” he said with a little more force in his voice. “I’m not comfortable leaving until I know you’re going to be okay and...
safe
.” Mark hesitated a little too long on the word safe.

Sarah’s pulse kicked up in reaction to the look on his face.

He waited a heartbeat before he said, “I don’t think you fully understand the situation.”

“What do you mean by situation?” Sarah asked, wide-eyed.

“The guy who attacked you took your wallet and keys.”

The force of what he said sunk in slowly.

“He took my wallet
and
my keys?” Her stomach rolled and coffee burned the back of her throat. With her hand over her mouth, she tried to swallow back the sick.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Mark said when Sarah slid off the barstool and headed back to the bathroom.

Her second round of fear-induced vomiting and the cold tile floor gave her a sense of déjà vu. She was seriously failing at the “not being pathetic in front of people” thing.