The Ultimate Seduction

Chapter Two

For as many times as Noah had fantasized about this moment with Natalie, he'd never once imagined he'd be kissing her during a crisis. Neither had he expected her to be the aggressor. No, he'd always envisioned their first kiss as a slow, sensual, erotic exploration. Him coaxing her passion to the surface at a leisurely pace, and her gradually surrendering.

This reckless embrace went beyond a sweet, lingering kiss and went straight for fast, deep and blistering hot, as well as wild and consuming. She clung to him as if she wanted to crawl into his skin and be a part of him, plastering her soft, lush curves along the length of his body in a way his long-denied libido couldn't ignore. The fingers she'd thrust through his hair flexed for a better hold and she angled his mouth for greater pressure, sealing their lips so tightly he was certain he'd bruise her.

She didn't seem to care. Desperation poured off her in waves as their tongues mated in a wild, illicit dance of seduction, despite the danger he sensed around them. He tasted her panic, felt her fear, even as she kissed him with an erotic intensity that left him reeling. And every time he tried to pull away she grew more frantic, which in turn increased the depth and heat and friction of their mouths and bodies.

He didn't like having his back exposed to whatever element had frightened her, but he'd never in his life been held with such force and need by a woman-a woman intent on either using him as diversionary tactic, or a shield to protect her from harm. He swore he'd keep her safe even as he fought the drugging pleasure of having her so willing and eager in his arms.

Christ. Her feverish kiss and their intimate embrace sent conflicting signals through his brain and body. His muscles were tensed and braced for action, yet he was hard and aching where his erection pressed against her belly. He groaned low in his throat as desire mingled with arousal, and he struggled with wanting this, wanting her, but knowing the circumstances were all wrong.

It seemed an eternity had passed, though in reality only a few seconds had ticked by, when Noah finally gained the upper hand and pried her lips from his, then pulled her arms from his neck. She whimpered at the loss of contact, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. She was breathing hard, and tears of despair shone in her bright, wide eyes as she looked up at him.

He pressed two fingers to her still-damp lips to keep her quiet until he got a better feel for their predicament. "I won't let anything hurt you," he promised in a low, gravelly voice.

Keeping her covered with his body, he leaned back and peered around the alcove to see if there was anyone waiting for them. He saw a few pedestrians strolling along the sidewalk, but not the guy in the baseball cap who had seemingly set her off.

He returned his attention to Natalie, needing to know what she'd seen and what had threatened her so badly. But first he had to calm her, and he tried to do so by rubbing his hands along her arms. "Nobody's there, Natalie. You're safe with me."

"I'll never be safe." Her voice caught on a hysterical sob as she shook her head wildly. "He won't go away!"

She pushed at his chest, shoving him away, and the unexpected assault took him off guard and he stumbled back a step. This time she alluded his grasp, and before he could intercept her she was dashing back across the street toward Murphy's. The signal at the corner was red, and he yelled at her to stop. She didn't listen, just kept running to escape.

From what, he still didn't know.

He started after her, cursing at his inability to control the bizarre situation and her rash actions. Before he could reach the street, an oncoming car slammed on its brakes to avoid hitting her. But the driver was going too fast, and Natalie wasn't paying attention.

He watched in horror, shouting a hoarse warning as the vehicle skidded long and hard, striking Natalie just before the car came to a jarring stop. The impact sent her flying, and she landed on her side a few feet away, her golden blond hair tousled around her head, her arms at an awkward angle, and her body completely lifeless.

Stunned, Noah raced furiously toward her, yelling at the people pouring out of nearby shops and eateries to dial 911 and get an ambulance there immediately. He dropped to the ground beside her, mindless of the sharp pain that shot through his knees. Mindless of anything except the churning in his gut and the metallic taste of fear in his mouth. He pressed two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, and exhaled a sigh of relief when he felt a thready but noticeable beat. She was alive, and that's all he cared about.

A crowd gathered around him, and the driver made his way to Noah's side, babbling about not seeing her in the street until it was too late. Ignoring him, he gently eased Natalie to her back and began a check for injuries, running his hands from her shoulders, down her arms, and along her thighs and legs. Opening her jacket, he skimmed his fingers over her collarbone, ribs and hips, and found nothing broken.

Her jacket had protected her from getting any scrapes along her arms, but she had a nasty cut on her cheek oozing blood that hopefully wouldn't leave a scar. Her face was drained of color, her lips were white and cool to the touch, and she looked so damn vulnerable.

"The paramedics are on their way," someone called from behind him.

Grateful for that bit of news, he held Natalie's slender, cold hand in his bigger, warmer one and silently urged the ambulance to hurry.

"Police coining through," a deep, distinct voice ordered. "Please step back from the injured party."

Bobby's authoritative tone reached Noah, and he glanced up to see his friend flashing his badge and doing his best to make the throng of curious onlookers back away to give them breathing room. When Bobby saw that it was him, he immediately hunkered down beside Noah.

"Oh, shit, it's Natalie," he said, sounding as shocked as Noah felt. "I had no idea. We heard the accident from inside Murphy's and I came out to see what happened. Is she okay?"

"I'm not sure," Noah said, hating that he didn't know more. "She's out cold and hasn't regained consciousness yet."

Automatically, Bobby tested the arteries in her wrist. "Her pulse is steady, so that's a good sign."

Noah nodded in agreement but knew there could be more damage that they couldn't see. "Do me a favor? Take care of the driver for me. He's really shaken up. It wasn't his fault. She ran out in front of his car when he had the right of way."

Bobby's dark brows lifted in surprise at that bit of news. "She was with you, wasn't she?" he asked, confused. "How did this happen, anyway?"

A weary sigh escaped Noah. "Long story, and I'll fill you in on the details as soon as Natalie is taken care of."

"Fair enough," his friend said, respecting Noah's wishes and knowing he'd get the full blow-by-blow later.

Bobby went to do his bidding, and Noah remained beside Natalie, refusing to leave her for any reason. He smoothed her hair away from her face and whispered encouraging words to her, along with the plea for her to open her eyes, all to no avail.

He pressed his lips to the tips of her ringers, wishing he could breath life and energy back into her body. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever felt so helpless, so filled with dread, not even when his parents divorced or when his father was killed in the line of duty. The latter had been a tragic experience for him and his brother and sister, but he'd managed to compartmentalize his pain with a carefree, easygoing facade. It was a strategy that had served him well in life up until this moment.

It hit him hard that this woman had the ability to cripple him emotionally. Over the course of the months he'd been pursuing her, she'd somehow worked her way into his heart, in a way he'd never, ever anticipated. The thought of losing her tore at his insides and made him physically ill.

Finally, he heard the sound of sirens, and within a minute the ambulance was parked and the paramedics were ushering him away from Natalie and taking over. One of the EMTs asked him what had happen, and Noah told them what they needed to know so they'd have better insight to possible injuries.

Still unconscious, Natalie was transferred to a cot, covered with blankets and wheeled to the ambulance for transport to the nearest hospital. Noah followed, refusing to let her out of his sight. They hefted her into the back of the unit, and Noah flashed his P.I. badge to avoid any flack and said, "I'm going with her."

Nobody argued as he climbed inside and settled on the bench seat opposite Natalie's cot. One EMT went to work hooking her up to an IV, then taking her blood pressure, while another man checked to see if her pupils dilated when he flashed a spot of light in her eyes.

Bobby came up to the back of the ambulance, his gaze showing compassion and concern. "I'm going to take some eyewitness reports, then I'll met you at the hospital."

"Thanks," Noah said with a nod. "I'll call Cole on the way and let him know what happened."

The dual doors closed, and the ambulance took off, lights flashing and sirens wailing as they sped through the city to the hospital.

It was the longest ride of Noah's life.

Noah paced restlessly in the hospital waiting room, surrounded by Cole, Melodie and Bobby. It had been three hours since Natalie had been admitted, and other than a few vague updates that didn't satisfy Noah, they still didn't know her final prognosis. The wait was excruciating, and he was eternally grateful that he had the support of his friend and family to keep him company.

Scrubbing a hand along his tense jaw, he exhaled in frustration. The last time he, Cole and Melodie had been in a hospital had been five months ago when their sister, Joelle, had gone into labor. Back then their presence in a medical facility had been a happy, joyful event as they'd welcomed an eight-pound, three-ounce baby girl Jo and Dean had named Jennifer. But today, the mood was somber and grim as the four of them waited for the doctor to give them an update on Natalie's condition.

He took a drink of the dark coffee Melodie had purchased down at the cafeteria for them, the bitter taste adding to the regrets and guilt swirling within him. "If only I'd tried harder to stop her," he muttered, speaking his thoughts out loud.

"Quit blaming yourself for something that was out of your control, Noah," Cole said, his tone understanding. He was the same old voice of reason he'd been since their father died. "It won't change what happened."

Regardless, he felt partially responsible for the accident. Hadn't he told Natalie that she was safe with him? He'd done a crummy job of protecting her.

He transferred his gaze to Bobby, who sat on a tweed chair, his dark hair as mussed as Noah's. "Are you sure nobody at the scene saw anything out of the ordinary?"

"I'm positive." Bobby took a swallow from his own cup of coffee, wincing at the strong taste that even a dose of sugar hadn't been able to tone down. "Everyone I spoke with either witnessed her running without paying attention to the light signal, or they didn't catch the accident until after it happened."

Noah pitched his empty foam cup into a nearby wastebasket. "I was hoping that someone at least saw that guy in the sweatshirt and baseball cap I told you about."

"Nope," Bobby said, dashing his hopes.

"Did he do something to attract attention or threaten her?" Melodie asked, joining in on the conversation. Having worked with Cole on a few cases, she was perceptive when it came to picking up on details.

"No. He was just walking behind us. He didn't say anything or make any hostile moves toward us." They'd been over the scene a dozen times but hadn't come up with clues that explained Natalie's strange behavior. She was the only one who could give them those missing pieces to the puzzle. "But whoever he is, without a doubt he's what set Natalie off."

"Then we'll just have to wait until we can talk to Natalie and find out who the guy is," Bobby replied pragmatically. "The way things look right now, the department can't even start an investigation on the guy, not unless Natalie gives us more information to go on."

Noah shoved both hands, palms out, into the back pockets of his jeans. "I'm sure she'll cooperate once she's feeling better." At least he was hopeful she'd share more information than she had earlier.

Forty minutes later, a doctor in green scrubs came out of the double doors separating the waiting room from the staff.

"Who here is a relative of Ms. Hastings?" he asked, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose as he glanced around at the people in the area.

Noah automatically stepped forward. "I am."

The lie slipped out with ease. He didn't know if she had any family in the area, and hadn't found anything in her purse to indicate so. He needed to know her status, wanted to make sure whatever threat she'd seen didn't make its way any closer to her. And the only way he could assure her safety was to appoint himself as her full-time bodyguard until this mess was straightened out. Which meant lying when necessary.

He shook the other man's hand. "I'm her fiance," he added, just for an extended measure of believability. He caught Melodie's big, rounded eyes and Cole's raised brow from behind the doctor, and ignored them both. "How is Natalie?"

"She's in stable condition right now," the other man said, clasping his hands in front of him. "She has no life-threatening injuries but did suffer a concussion when her head hit the ground. She's regained consciousness a few times, so that's a good sign."

A huge blanket of worry lifted from Noah's shoulders. "So she's going to be okay?"

"Physically, she'll be sore and bruised for a few days, but she'll recover just fine," the doctor reassured him. "Emotionally and mentally, though, we're a bit concerned. We ran tests and X rays and did an MRI just to be sure we ruled out anything serious, but it does appear that she's suffering some memory loss. She only remembers bits and pieces leading up to the accident, and it's apparent that part of her memory is blocked."

"Are you saying she has amnesia?" he asked incredulously.

"The technical term is 'retrograde amnesia,'" the doctor clarified. "It's quite common with people who have sustained head injuries, or have suffered from something traumatic leading up to an accident."

That certainly qualified in Natalie's case. Noah glanced in disbelief at the trio listening in on the conversation, then back to the calm, patient doctor standing in front of him. "So, how long does this amnesia last?"

"It can last anywhere from hours, to days, to weeks. The amnesia in this case is very selective, and there is usually a full recovery in time. We'll be keeping her overnight for further observation, but I do suggest that once she's discharged from the hospital she isn't left alone until she's feeling confident about her surroundings and the people in her life."

"That's not a problem," Noah said abruptly, and wove another lie to keep her safe from potential harm. "We live together."

"Very good, then." The doctor smiled pleasantly. "When you see her, don't pressure her to remember things, because that can cause her more stress and can possibly suppress her memories deeper. Just let her remember things as they come to her, and in her own time."

"Can I see her?" he asked hopefully.

"She's resting right now-"

"I swear I won't bother her," he interrupted quickly, desperately. "I just need to see for myself that she's okay."

The older man glanced around the waiting room, his gaze briefly settling on Bobby, Cole and Melodie. "Are there any other family members here?"

"No, her family doesn't live in the area." The fibs kept getting easier and easier to fabricate, and he was grateful that nobody interfered.

The doctor hesitated a moment, then gave a succinct nod of his head. "That's fine. In fact, I can have one of the nurses bring in a cot to her room for you if you'd like to stay the night. That way, she can wake up to a familiar face."

"That would be great." He shook the other man's hand again, appreciating the opportunity to be close to her. "Thank you."

After issuing goodbyes to his brother, Melodie and Bobby, and promising to let them all know what he found out when he was able to question Natalie, he followed a nurse to Natalie's private room.

"I'll be back with a cot and extra blankets for you," the nurse said, then left him alone with Natalie.

He stepped inside the small hospital room, his eyes instantly drawn to the sleeping form on the bed. A lightweight blanket covered her up to her chest, and she was still hooked to an IV. The soft blip of a unit monitoring her heart and breathing told him that she was, indeed, stabilized. The color was back in her face, and a butterfly bandage covered the cut on her cheek, which hadn't required stitches, thank goodness.

The awful tightness he'd been experiencing in his chest since the accident finally eased. Pulling a chair close to her bedside, he sat down, leaned forward and placed his hand over Natalie's, just to have some kind of connection to her.

His fingers felt the pulse in her wrist, and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest and the fluttering of her eyelids as she dreamed. Her lips were parted slightly, and remembering their kiss, he was determined that their next one would be much softer, much sweeter, with nothing but desire and mutual hunger between them.

His cot was delivered, along with some water for him to drink. Nurses periodically came into the room to check on her, and he made it clear that he wasn't going to leave Natalie's side until she awakened.

And as the minutes ticked by, one concern preyed heavily on his mind. Would she even remember him when she woke up?

Her throat felt parched and she was so thirsty.

Natalie pulled herself from her deep, dreamless sleep and pried her eyes open. She blinked, focusing on her surroundings, recalling with a startling jolt that she'd been in an accident and was in the hospital. She shivered as she caught sight of the equipment and wires hooked up to her sore, aching body, and inhaled an antiseptic scent that tickled her nose. The back of her skull hurt, too, and she had a headache to match.

She glanced at the clock on the wall in front of her and saw it was six-thirty-in the morning, she assumed.

She closed her eyes again, this time trying to recall any small detail of being hit by a car, but all she remembered was gaining consciousness in the hospital after the fact and wondering what the heck was going on. Last night she'd felt so bewildered and confused, and her head had felt as though something had stampeded through her brain. Exhaustion had finally claimed her, which had been a blessed relief since she hadn't been able to make sense of anything.

It seemed a good night's rest hadn't made any difference, and she couldn't stop the niggling sense of unease that trickled through her. Before her anxiety could spring into full-blown panic, she calmed herself with the knowledge that she'd been through a traumatic accident and the certainty that things would become clearer as the day progressed.

A soft, snoring sound pulled her from her disturbing thoughts. With a frown, she turned her head, glanced down and found a man slumped forward in a chair at the side of her bed, his dark head and brawny arms resting on the mattress near her hip.

Another snuffling sound escaped him, and she smiled, recognizing that tousled sable hair and the strong, gorgeous profile as Noah's. It appeared he'd fallen asleep while watching over her, and the caring gesture warmed her deep inside.

A brief recollection flashed inside her head, of Noah's lips on hers and a wild, deep kiss unlike anything she'd ever indulged in. She knew Noah, and along with that certainty came the knowledge that he made her feel safe, secure and desired. But she had no idea where he fit into her life. Was he her boyfriend? Lover? Friend? Judging by the awareness and intimate longing swirling within her, she was guessing that he was much more than a casual acquaintance.

Stretching her arm out, she gently threaded her fingers through his hair, the thick strands cool and silky to the touch. She caressed her hand along the dark, bristly whiskers on his cheek and jaw, trying to recall if she'd ever been abraded by that sexy morning stubble. His lips were parted and looked so warm and soft. So inviting. She couldn't resist testing the feel of them for herself, and she wasn't disappointed in the silky, seductive texture her fingertips encountered.

His lashes drifted open as he gradually awakened, his dark blue eyes at first unfocused. God, he was so sinfully sensual, so deliciously good-looking, he literally took her breath away.

The charming grin she expected to see never appeared. Instead, he slowly lifted his head and stared at her cautiously, warily searching her gaze as if he wasn't sure what to expect from her. Odd, she thought.

Regardless, his presence soothed her, grounded her, and she was grateful that she hadn't woken up alone. "Hi, there," she said, her voice husky from slumber and thirst.

He swallowed hard, then finally graced her with that sexy smile that never failed to jump-start her pulse. That exciting tingling through her veins was an incredibly nice way to greet the morning, though she couldn't ever recall waking up with this man next to her.

Not that it had or hadn't happened. She just couldn't-remember. Her mind felt muddled, foggy and disoriented, and the inability to grasp any kind of clear recollection of them frustrated her.

"Hi, yourself, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone low and rough.

Sweetheart. Yeah, she definitely liked the sound of that. And she knew that he'd used that sentiment with her before.

He straightened in his seat, then stretched his arms over his head to loosen the kinks that had no doubt cramped parts of his body due to his awkward sleeping position. Muscles flexed beneath his T-shirt and along his arms as he arched his back and reached high. He groaned in relief, and she enjoyed every bit of the male display.

"You snore," she said in amusement.

"I'm sorry." He cringed at that bit of information, instantly contrite. "Did I wake you?"

"No, actually it was a cute snore and not at all obnoxious."

He laughed, the rumbling sound sending a pleasant vibration along her nerve endings. "Well, it's certainly good to know that you think my snores are cute, but don't tell anyone else because, for one thing, I'll never hear the end of it and, for another, it'll be a huge blow to my masculinity."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." She smiled, curious to know if they shared any other private intimacies. "I need something to drink. Is there any water?"

"Sure is." He raised the top of her mattress so she was sitting up, then rilled a plastic glass on the tray next to her bed. Bringing the straw to her lips, he watched her take a drink, his concerned gaze roaming over her face. "You sound better than I'd expected this morning, but how are you really feeling?"

She swallowed one last gulp of cool water, relieving her dry, scratchy throat. "My head is throbbing and I feel bruised, battered and achy. Like I got hit by a car."

He chuckled lightly at her wry tone and tipped his head. "You remember?"

"Not much, if anything at all." She sighed and settled back against her pillows. "Actually, one of the nurses told me what happened when I asked last night. That's how I know. I'm still kind of sketchy on the details, though."

He took a long drink of water from her glass and set it aside. "That's okay. It'll eventually come to you. I'm just glad to see your beautiful eyes are wide open and clear. You gave us all quite a scare."

"Us all?"

Nodding, he perched his hip on the mattress next to her waist and placed her hand between his. His thumb drew lazy patterns over her knuckles. "Me, my brother, Melodie, Bobby, and everyone at Murphy's."

She thought hard to place who those people were. Struck with a sudden dull ache at her temple, she pressed her fingers against the sore spot. "The names are familiar, but why can't I place their faces?" she asked, annoyed with her inability to do so.

He hesitated, his gentle caresses stopping. Then he asked very carefully, "Didn't the doctor tell you?"

By the tone of his voice and the troubled look marring his brows, she was certain she wasn't going to enjoy what he had to say. "Tell me what?"

He released a deep breath. Now that the issue had been brought up, it was obvious that he felt obligated to carry it through. "About your amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Her voice rose to an incredulous pitch, and she experienced an adrenaline rush of distress. "But I remember you." Which was why she hadn't been overly alarmed at the other little things she couldn't recollect. But now that he'd used the word amnesia, her lack of recall made more sense, not that she liked it one bit.

"And thank God for that." He tenderly brushed her hair away from her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin. "But there are other things you might not remember."

Well, she certainly couldn't argue with his statement. Stunned, she could only shake her head in wonder and fear. How strange it was not to recall certain parts of your life, yet know other things so instinctively. Like her inexplicable emotional and physical connection to Noah.

"Tell me what the doctor told you," she asked, and listened to him explain her level of amnesia, and that while she might be able to remember certain aspects of her past and current life, other things might not be clear at all.

She shook her head in shock. "Is this retrograde amnesia permanent?"

"Not according to the doctor," he reassured her. "You suffered a huge trauma when you hit your head, and he said that you'll start remembering things in bits and pieces over the course of the next few weeks or months. He's confident that you'll have a full recovery in time."

She shivered as a chill rippled through her. "But in the meantime, I've only got half a memory? How frightening is that?"

He gave her hand a tender squeeze. "I know it has to be scary, but I promise I'll be here for you."

Knowing she could count on Noah brought her immense comfort, because at the moment she was feeling incredibly alone and vulnerable. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He bent close and brushed a kiss on her cheek.

His lips were warm and sensual, the scent of him musky and all male. His morning stubble lightly chafed her skin, eliciting a stirring of desire in her blood. Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest, and she was surprised that the monitor she was hooked up to didn't go haywire. When he lifted his head again and met her gaze, his eyes were dark and intense.

She exhaled a slow breath as they stared at each other. She craved and wanted this man in inexplicable ways that defied her current state of mind, and all she knew for certain was that the feeling was honest and true. She trusted her instincts where Noah was concerned, because, for now, her gut intuition was all she had to depend on.

A nurse walked into the room, shattering the intimate moment between them. Noah sat back in his chair as the woman came up to the side of her bed and started adjusting the IV drip. She wore a pastel smock, and the badge hanging around her neck identified her as Shirley Richards, RN.

"You're awake," she said pleasantly, and smiled at Natalie. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"As good as can be expected."

The nurse nodded in understanding. "I'll give you another dose of medication to help with the aches and pains. You'll be sore for a few days, but you're darn lucky that you didn't sustain any internal injuries." She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and pumped it full of air.

As Shirley took her vitals, she glanced across the bed to Noah, then back at Natalie. "You've got yourself quite a fiance there," she said genuinely. "He was determined to stay with you and has been by your side all night long waiting for you to wake up."

Her eyes widened as she was dealt another dose of shock to deal with. Her fiance? She and Noah were engaged? She snuck a peek at her left hand and saw no evidence of an engagement ring but knew that didn't mean anything at all. Undoubtedly, this man was part of her life in some capacity, and when Noah didn't deny or correct the woman's comment, she had no choice but to believe it was true.

And belonging to Noah wasn't an unpleasant thought at all.

"I'm thinking you might need to use the rest room, yes?" Shirley asked once she'd written her numbers down on the chart in front of her bed.

Natalie smiled sheepishly. "That would be nice."

"You should be okay to get up on your own, but I'll be here to help you the first time, just to make sure your legs are steady and you don't get lightheaded. And then there's all the IV stuff that can get in your way." The nurse transferred her professional gaze to Noah. "Can you give us about fifteen minutes to do the girl stuff?"

"Sure." A wry grin canted the corner of his mouth and he stood. "I need to use the men's room myself."

He winked at Natalie and turned for the door. She watched him walk out, eyes drawn to his wide shoulders, his strong, lean body and his confident swagger. No matter how she racked her brain trying to recall something as important as an engagement, her mind remained frustratingly blank.

Regardless of her unreliable memory, one thrilling, exciting thought took precedence: this gorgeous, breathtakingly sexy man was all hers.