Protecting Rose (14 page)

Yes, she most certainly did smell good, and Nate wanted to reach out and bury his fingers in her hair and breathe her in. But instead, he just said, “I’m sorry. We don’t have any crackers.”

“Not a problem,” she assured him with a shy smile. Rose picked up her lemonade and took a long swallow, then gave a soulful sigh. “So, what do we do now?”

He tensed at the trace of fear in her eyes and the uncertainty in her voice. She was confused and frightened, and he wanted to kick someone’s ass for it. Over the last week, she’d woken up with no memory, and there had been multiple attempts on her life. The fact that she wasn’t paralyzed with fear was a testament to her inner strength and character.

“I know it’s been rough. But we’ll figure things out.”

“How long do you think we’ll need to stay here?”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t like it here,” he teased.

“No, that’s not it,” she assured him. “It’s just...I feel like I should do something to help. It seems like all I’m doing is running.”

“I know it seems that way. But Rick has a crack team on your case. We just need to give it some time.”

Rose reached up to stifle a yawn.

“You’re tired, sweetheart. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll clean up.”

“Are you sure? I could help.”

Nate smiled. “No, go on. You look like you’re ready to drop. I can handle a few dishes.” Although her bruises were now a light yellow instead of the deep purple they had been, she still moved with some stiffness.

She gave him a tired smile. “All right. Goodnight, Nate.”

“’Night, Rose.”

She stood and went into the bedroom and shut the door.

Nate had to resist the urge to follow her into the room and gather her close in his arms for the night. He shook his head at the impulse. He cleaned up the dinner mess and transferred their clothes to the dryer. After he conducted a thorough survey of the house to make sure it was secure, he headed to take a quick shower.

As he stepped into the shower, the smell of the peach shampoo brought images of Rose to his mind. A little more than an hour ago, Rose had stood naked in the same spot. His groin jumped to attention, and he glanced down at the problem with a frown.
Damn
. He needed to take care of this situation so he could focus on the job of keeping her safe, not his hunger for her.

He leaned one arm against the wall and firmly took the problem in hand. His mind replayed the heated moments between them earlier, before she’d freaked out. The feel and taste of her, her silken skin and passionate responses to his touch, the way her breasts filled his hands perfectly. His breathing grew ragged as he recalled how her rosy nipples grew taut under his tongue and the sensation of her womanly warmth around his finger when she moaned her pleasure. With a groan, his strokes became more intense...quicker, harder. He imagined the many ways he wanted to touch her. To take her. With one final stroke, he leaned against the wall with gritted teeth to contain his shout of pleasure at his release.

Nate stood for a minute, breathing heavily, until he was able to regain his equilibrium. He straightened, then took the shampoo and squeezed a dab of the peach concoction into his palm. The scent flooded images of Rose standing naked into his brain. His groin twitched.

Well, hell.

After his shower, Nate pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed to his bedroom. Although he usually slept in the nude, he figured it wasn’t such a great idea, considering his bedroom had no door. He sat on the bed and leaned his back against the headboard. Placing one hand behind his head, he watched the stars slowly fill the night sky.

He was keyed up from the day’s events and unable to sleep. His mind raced as he tried to determine their next step. Rose had an appointment in the morning to see the shrink, which obviously wasn’t going to happen now.

It was late, too late, to call Rick. But first thing in the morning he would give him a call. Nate wanted to discuss the possibility of bringing Sheila to the farmhouse for a session with Rose. He needed to end the threat to her life, and the fastest way to do that was to get her memory back.

He finally drifted off to sleep.

He woke up with a start when a sound pierced his subconscious. Instantly alert, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to listen. Nate glanced at the clock. It was only 2:00 a.m. A sound of distress came from Rose’s room. He grabbed his Glock off the dresser and rushed to her room.

When he opened the door, moonlight filtered through the curtains and filled the room with a soft glow. He exhaled a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he saw her tucked safely in bed. He began to shut the door. Rose moaned.

Alarmed, he pushed the door wide and strode over to her bed. She was asleep, but caught in a nightmare. His gut twisted when he saw the tears on her face. She tossed restlessly on the bed and soft whimpers of distress fell from her lips as she struggled with her demons.

Damn!
He placed the Glock on the nightstand and sat next to her on the bed.

“Rose.” He swore again when his touch increased her distress and her body went stiff.

Nate grasped her firmly by the shoulders and gave her a soft shake to wake her. “Rose,” he repeated in his most commanding voice.

Her eyes flew open and her panicked gaze met his on a choking gasp. Her body trembled.

He cupped her cheeks and brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “Hey, it’s okay,” he assured her, even as he silently called himself every kind of bastard for his part in her nightmare.

“Nate.” Her voice broke. She jerked upright, flung herself at him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body trembled against him.

“Yeah, babe,” he said in a gentle tone. He stroked her hair. “Bad dream?”

She nodded against his chest, but did not let go.

“Rose,” he soothed and rubbed her back in circular motions. “Sweetheart, it’s all right. I’ve gotcha.” He whispered words of comfort and held her for a long time until her breathing slowed and finally returned to normal.

“Better now?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I think so.”

He smiled and gave her a hug of reassurance. “Do you remember anything about the dream?”

“You mean the nightmare?” She gave a soft laugh, pushed her hair from her face, and lay back on the pillow. “No. At first there was something, but I’ve lost it now.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. You’ll get your memory back. It’s just going to take some time.” He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “You’re better now?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Not a problem. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”

He forced himself to release her hand and stood up to leave. Nate picked up the Glock, and moved toward the door. “Did you want me to leave the door open?”

“Yes. Please.”

When he reached his room, he dropped the gun on the dresser and crawled into bed. He needed to get some sleep if he was going to be worth a damn in the morning. But it seemed that no matter how many sheep he counted, he couldn’t fall back to sleep. Just knowing Rose was only a few short footsteps away made sleep impossible.

His senses went on high alert when Rose moved to the hall. Was she going to the restroom? Or maybe on her way to the kitchen to look for a late night snack? His heart rate increased in anticipation when she walked past the bathroom and down the hall to his room. When she stepped through the door, he met a pair of soft chocolate eyes filled with anxiety.

She seemed lost and fragile, her eyes tinged with dark circles, her face pale. She stood at the doorway and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Nate?”

“Yeah, babe. What is it?” He didn’t know what she needed, but he would offer her any comfort she asked for.

She took another step into the room, nervously pushed her hair away from her face.

“I can’t sleep. Can I stay with you tonight?”

He didn’t even have to think about. He reached down, pulled the covers back, and held out his hand. “Of course you can,” he said, even as his common sense screamed,
bad idea
.

Rose sighed, took the last few steps to his bed and slipped in next to him. Nate wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. They spooned, her back against his front. He gritted his teeth and forced his body to behave when her soft bottom pressed up against him, thankful he’d at least taken the edge off in the shower. It was both heaven and hell having Rose in his bed. Heaven to be able to touch her, but hell not to be able to claim her.

He was relieved to feel her tension drain away as he held her. After a short time, she fell into a peaceful slumber. The intense rush of having her soft body molded to his as her sweet scent surrounded him made it difficult to think about anything but the beautiful woman in his bed. It was a long time before Nate was able to finally fall asleep. But when he did, he slept deeply and peacefully, holding the woman who was capturing his heart in his arms.

Larsen went over to the bar to pour himself a drink.

“Would you like a drink, Brett?” Larsen picked up a pair of tongs and plucked two cubes of ice from a bucket. He turned back to Brett and dropped the ice into his glass before adding two fingers of Cognac.

“No, I’m good,” Brett replied.

Larsen went back to his desk and sat down. He reached into a drawer and retrieved a Cuban cigar. He slowly wet the cigar end and placed it between his teeth. One of his bodyguards came over to hold a lighter just under its tip.

“So, Brett. What makes you think you succeeded this time?” he asked, his voice cold enough to burn.

Brett glanced over at the two men standing at the door, weapons clearly visible under their jackets. They watched him with hard, hostile eyes. He knew any signs of weakness could get him killed.

“The bomb I placed in her room took out half the upper floor of the condo,” Brett said.

Larsen eyed him. “How do you know that she died in the blast?”

“I...I also placed explosives at all the exits,” he explained.

Larsen’s eyes narrowed. “But how do you know that she was killed?”

Brett swallowed. “Even if she somehow managed to survive the blasts, there is no way she could have gotten out of the building with all the exits blocked.”

Larsen leaned forward. “But how do you know that, Brett? Where is your proof?”

“I don’t have any...yet.”

Larsen took another puff of his cigar and slowly blew the smoke into Brett’s face. “I have it on the greatest authority that you, in fact, did
not
cover all the exits.”

He paused to flick the cigar ashes onto the floor before continuing. “Know this, Brett. If she managed to escape, I’m going to be very unhappy. And you won’t like it if I’m unhappy.”

Brett licked his lips, unable to keep his eyes from darting toward the door where Larsen’s goons stood. With an audible gulp, he returned his gaze back to Larsen. “I swear I have the situation under control.”

The sound of footsteps drew near as the two guys stopped on either side of him. Threat and intimidation radiated off them in waves.

Larsen leaned forward and ground the smoldering cigar tip into the side of Brett’s neck. The sizzle and sickening smell of burning flesh filled the air. He broke out into a cold sweat, gritted his teeth against the excruciating pain and somehow managed to remain still.

“Make sure,” Larsen said in a low deadly whisper. “You have twenty-four hours to bring me the proof.”

He nearly collapsed with relief when the cigar was removed from his neck. Brett watched through a haze of pain as Larsen walked back to the other side of the desk and sat down, before turning to flick his cigar ashes. He waved his hand in dismissal. “Now get the hell out of here.”