The Ultimate Seduction

Chapter Three

After taking care of personal business, Noah washed his hands, then splashed cool water on his face, trying like hell to push away the guilt eating at his conscience. He dried the dampness from his skin with a paper towel and shoved his fingers through his hair in a paltry attempt to tame his unruly morning hair.

Natalie believed he was her nance. When the nurse had made that announcement, he'd witnessed Natalie's surprised expression and had held his breath, waiting for her to ask him if it was true. Much to his relief she didn't question the woman's casually tossed words, which saved him from outright lying to Natalie's face. For now.

Bracing his hands on the edge of the porcelain sink, he stared at his reflection in the rest room mirror, noting the lines of exhaustion at the corners of his eyes. Undoubtedly, he was lying by omission, because he planned to use the fiance pretense to his advantage, to remain as close to her as possible so he could protect her until he nailed the source of her fears the night before. And he knew there would be more fabrications as they became necessary and until she fully regained her memory-all for her own good. For him, it was one hundred percent a safety issue.

He suspected she didn't remember the threat that had scared her, and that made her even more defenseless and too damned vulnerable to the guy she'd run away from. He was beginning to think she was the target of a stalker. What else could explain the hysterical words Natalie had spoken last night before getting hit by the car? I'll never be safe. He won't go away.

Right now, with her amnesia, she didn't have the advantage of knowing something was wrong, and her instincts might be skewed by memory loss. Her vulnerability put her too much at risk for another encounter that might turn hostile.

And there was no way he'd allow anything else to harm her, not if he could help it.

He left the rest room and stopped at the vending machine in the waiting area. Buying a roll of the strongest mints available, he promptly tossed three of the peppermint Life Savers into his mouth and chewed. While he waited a few more minutes before returning to Natalie's room, he came up with a game plan. He'd ask her casual, no-pressure kinds of questions and see what she did and didn't recollect. He refused to feed her any information or outright tell her the truth about what had led up to the accident, because if she didn't remember, he knew it would only cause her panic and paranoia.

He popped three more mints for good measure, and when he arrived back in her room, she was settled back in bed with a breakfast tray on the small table in front of her. She was still wearing her hospital gown, but her hair had been combed and was smoothed back behind her ears.

She glanced from her meal to him and wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Blech."

He chuckled as he came up beside her. "That bad, huh?"

"While I can't recall what my favorite breakfast food is, I'm sure this isn't it. Watery scrambled eggs, oatmeal that looks like paste, and dry, cold toast." She indicated each item on her tray with a point of her finger. "The only thing that looks worth eating is the fresh fruit."

He had to agree that her breakfast didn't look at all appetizing. "Then eat the fruit and drink your apple juice, and I'll try to sneak in something good later."

She grinned. "How about a pepperoni pizza?"

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, glad to see she was quickly gaining back her energy. "A big ol' pizza box is a bit obvious, don't you think? That'll have to wait until you're home."

"Home?"

The frown creasing her brows told him that she was having a hard time placing where she lived. Which was perfect for him. "My place. We just moved in together."

"Oh." The one word escaped on a breathy note of sound.

He played his cards very cautiously, not wanting to upset her in any way. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Well, no, not really." She shrugged. "I mean, if we're engaged, that would make sense."

She was so trusting that he had to push aside another wave of guilt that assaulted him-and remind himself that it was the only way he could keep her safe.

She sighed softly. "I just feel like I'm learning who I am all over again. Or at least parts of who I am."

"That's how it'll be with certain aspects of your memory, according to the doctor." Since she wasn't digging into her breakfast, he filched a grape from the compote and lifted it to her mouth. When her lips automatically parted, he slipped the piece of fruit inside. "We'll do lots of talking and that might spark those repressed parts of your memory."

While her mouth was currently occupied, he casually brought up another subject, wanting to know what she might recall about her past. "Do you want me to contact someone in your family to let them know about your accident?"

"I don't have any family," she said automatically.

Surprised, he asked, "You remember that?"

"Yeah, I do," she said, equally stunned by the knowledge. "You were testing me, weren't you?"

As her fiance, he should have known about her family, and was grateful that she saw his question as a way of testing her mind and memory. That would definitely work in his favor to get information from her. "Yeah, I was. What else do you remember?"

She plucked up a wedge of cantaloupe, slipped it into her mouth and thought for a moment while she chewed. "I remember that my parents died when I was about five in a house fire and I grew up in foster homes."

Oh, wow, he thought, blown away by her confession and unable to imagine what a tumultuous and difficult childhood she must have had. He'd lost his parents, too, but at least he'd been lucky enough to have his brother, Cole, raising him and his sister, Joelle. They'd been a strong family unit-then and now. "How about relatives?"

She shook her head. "Both of my parents were only children, so I don't have any aunts and uncles, and my grandparents are dead, too."

He urged her to take a drink of her apple juice. "Do you remember how last night's accident happened?"

She paused, and he could see her straining to recall details. "I remember walking with you-but I was afraid of something?"

She looked at him with uncertainty in her pale blue gaze, waiting for him to confirm her question. "Yes, you were. What were you afraid of, sweetheart?"

She closed her eyes, and her face scrunched up in an obvious attempt to force thoughts into her head.

"I-I don't remember." Frustrated, she dropped her head back onto the pillow and released a low, discouraging growl. "How is it that I can recall so much about my past-you, even-but I can't remember other things? I feel like there's a huge, gaping hole in my life."

She sounded near to panic over her inability to control what her mind could and couldn't recollect. Weaving their fingers together, he sought to soothe her the best he could. "I'm here for you, Natalie, for anything you want or need. Anything at all." And he meant it, too.

She pushed her breakfast tray aside, her appetite obviously gone. "I want my memory back. All of it," she said stubbornly.

Of course she'd ask for a wish he couldn't grant. Knowing she was desperate, he focused on the positive. "Tell you what, let's concentrate on the things you do remember."

Her gaze touched his eyes, lingering long enough to make him feel as though she could see all the way into his soul. She took in the rest of his features slowly, as if scrutinizing each one, then finally came to rest on his mouth.

"I remember kissing you," she said abruptly, her voice low and husky with awareness. She dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, and her breathing deepened. "Come here," she whispered.

Mesmerized by her request, he moved the small table in front of her completely out of their way and leaned toward her, bracing a hand on the pillow beside her head. The position caused his chest to press against her full, generous breasts, and he had the fleeting thought that he wished they were both naked so he could feel her skin on skin.

He was uncertain what she intended, but whatever she had planned, he was a willing participant.

Her soft, slender hand traveled up his arm to his shoulder, then her fingers slipped through the hair at the nape of his neck and she drew his head down to hers. Lost in the need reflecting in her eyes, he complied, watching as her lashes fluttered closed and her lips parted for him even before their mouths touched.

While their first kiss had been an act of desperation, this one was born of the sensuality that burned bright between them. She nibbled on his bottom lip, and he let her have free rein to taste and explore to her heart's content, no matter the cost to him physically. He was already hard and thick, completely aroused-a normal, lusty reaction when it came to her.

When she deepened the kiss, he welcomed the moist heat and slow, penetrating slide of her tongue, and met it with his own. He stroked long and slow, hot and deep, and she kissed him back the same way, eagerly and instinctively. So much passion. So much heat. Intense and uninhibited.

A purr of pleasure rumbled in her throat, and he groaned in appreciation, too. She was an irresistible temptation, a searing drug to his deprived libido, and she made him restless and hungry for more of her.

By the time she let him go, she was panting for breath and his own pulse was racing wildly. Their faces were still only inches away, and he wanted to drown in those trusting, velvety blue eyes of hers. Wanted to strip away the sheet and the flimsy gown separating them and make love to her.

The latter wasn't an option. Not here. Not now. Not until she regained her memory and could better define her emotions. It was obvious to him that she didn't realize that she'd been avoiding him and her attraction to him for months now. But this Natalie was giving into desires that had always been inside of her, desires she'd hidden from him before today.

Interesting.

A lazy smile hitched up the corner of his mouth. "And that was for-?" he murmured questioningly.

She caressed her palm along his cheek, skimmed her thumb along his full bottom lip, though her gaze never left his. "I needed to make sure what I feel for you is real."

"And is it?" He had to know.

"As real as I know it to be. You feel good and right, and I really like kissing you."

He laughed, relieved, and ran the tip of his finger down the slope of her cute nose. "Just so you know, you have permission to kiss me anytime you'd like."

Smiling, she settled back against her pillows, suddenly looking tired. While she might appear okay physically, he knew it would take a couple of days for her to fully regain her strength again. And right now, she needed more sleep.

He straightened, making a quick decision that would benefit them both. "I'm going to leave, but I'll be back in a little while."

Dread flared to life in her eyes. "Where are you going?"

Her panic-stricken expression clutched at him, and he instantly tried to soothe her anxiety. "I need a shower, shave and a change of clothes. And you need to rest. Are you afraid to stay alone?" he asked gently.

"Just a little nervous," she admitted, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. "I feel so out of place and disoriented, and you're like an anchor in this storm I seem to be caught up in."

"I'm sure that's very normal." Reaching for the call button, he set it within her reach. "Tell you what, here's the buzzer for the nurse, and if you need me for anything at all, here are my cell phone and pager numbers." He jotted both on a napkin and set it by her phone. "Don't hesitate to call me, even if it's just to hear my voice."

She inhaled deeply, as if inflating her courage. "You must think I'm a complete basket case."

No, he didn't think that at all. Her nerves and fears were legitimately based, but he wasn't about to enlighten her of that fact, or the reasons why. She didn't need any more stress to deal with at the moment.

"I'm not always this clingy, am I?" she asked, even as her lashes grew heavy and drooped.

She sounded so embarrassed at the thought that he couldn't help but grin. "You're only clingy when it counts, sweetheart," he teased.

"Good." Her eyes closed completely, and she mumbled drowsily, "Will you bring me back fresh clothes, too?"

She thought he could because she believed they lived together. "You bet." Luckily for him he'd claimed her car keys and ID from her purse before handing over her personal effects to the nurses, so he had everything he needed to get into her apartment and confiscate enough items to make it appear as though she'd moved into his house. But first, he had to call a cab to take him back to his car, which was still parked at Murphy's.

He remained by her bedside until her breathing grew deep and even in sleep before leaving her room. He stopped at the nurses' station, flashed his P.I. badge and gave them adamant orders that other than personnel, no one was to go into her room without someone calling and asking him first.

He wasn't taking any chances with her safety.

Hands on his hips, Noah glanced around what had once been his masculine bathroom, but now shared space with Natalie's feminine toiletries, and knew his cherished bachelorhood as he'd once known it was over-at least temporarily. The thought of trading in meaningless flings for a day-to-day intimacy with a woman didn't bother him as much as it should have, though-because it was Natalie, a woman he'd been chasing for so long. A woman who intrigued him and evoked the kind of emotions that, with other women, had sent him running in the other direction, but with her seemed so perfectly, inexplicably right.

At the moment, he refused to analyze his changing emotions, because he had a job to do and his feelings for Natalie couldn't get in the way of higher priorities, like keeping her safe and protected. Once she regained her memory and was no longer in danger, then they'd focus on them.

He headed back into his bedroom, made room in his closet for her stuff and finished putting away the clothes he'd taken from her apartment. While going through her belongings, he'd learned that she favored jeans and sweats, loose shirts and bulky sweaters. There wasn't a sexy outfit to be had in all of her attire, or the kind of clingy, flattering clothes most women with her kind of figure would have worn. It was as if she'd sought to hide her assets, rather than accentuate them.

That had been an interesting eye-opener, and he'd found the rest of her small studio apartment equally revealing. Instead of the warmth and intimacy he'd expected to find upon entering, the accommodations she called home had felt cold, empty and lonely. Her apartment was a compact place where she slept, ate meals and studied, as indicated by the pile of books stacked on a corner table near the only window in the room. There was nothing to indicate she led anything more than a quiet, solitary life.

The apartment had been filled with only the bare living necessities-a box spring and mattress in the combo bedroom-living room, along with a nightstand and dresser drawers that were old and scarred and didn't even match. Her small thirteen-inch TV sat on a plastic crate, and her small dining table was flanked by two old wooden chairs. Even her cupboards and refrigerator only held a few staple items.

He'd gotten the distinct impression that she could get up and go at a moment's notice and not miss anything she left behind. There was nothing permanent to indicate she'd settled down for good in Oakland. Her belongings were meager, and he hadn't found anything to disclose who she was beyond what he already knew.

He'd even gone so far as to search drawers, hoping to find some kernel of information to help him better understand what had frightened her, but the only intriguing tidbit he'd discovered was an outdated woman's magazine she'd subscribed to with her name and a Reno, Nevada, address on the mailing label. He'd confiscated the item to help him find out about the life she'd led before moving to Northern California.

He emptied the final bag of clothes onto his bed to sort, and her intimate apparel tumbled out. He grinned as he picked up her underwear and rubbed the smooth fabric between his fingers, then inhaled the clean, powdery scent of fabric softener. He'd been surprised to find that she favored simple cotton panties when she had a body made for "barely there" lingerie, but she'd allowed a hint of femininity in the strip of lace around the waistband. Her bras were sheer, but plain, a thin, unadorned covering for her beautiful breasts.

There was nothing overtly sexy about any of her undergarments, and he'd no doubt seen racier, more provocative stuff in his years, but there was something about her no-frill approach that did it for him in a major way, if the raging hard-on straining against his jeans was any indication. Natalie was all woman, and she didn't need silk and lace to emphasize her attributes.

She was also a woman with deeply buried secrets, and he planned to discover what she'd been hiding.

Stuffing her panties and bras into a drawer he'd cleared for her, he also mixed a few articles of her clothing into his hamper just for good measure. Her college textbooks were now on his kitchen table, and he'd set the three music CDs he'd found at her place on top of his stereo cabinet.

Satisfied that his two-story house looked as though a woman lived there as well, Noah took a quick shower, shaved and made a quick call to Bobby and Cole to update them on Natalie's status and to remind them to play along with his cover of being her fiance for the time being. He returned to the hospital with a fresh pair of her sweats, socks, underwear and her well-worn Keds to change into.

When he entered her room, she was up and talking to the doctor, and when she saw him, she graced him with a smile that quickened his pulse and made him feel like a teenager with a bad case of infatuation.

"Hi," she said, and motioned him over to her bed, her expression reflecting excitement. Once he was there, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Good news. The doctor is going to release me today."

He noticed that the IV had been taken off, and she was no longer hooked to the other monitors in the room. "That's great."

The doctor jotted a note on her chart, then glanced at Noah pointedly. "She needs to take it easy for the next few days and get plenty of rest."

"Not a problem." He set her clothes on the side table, right next to a huge floral bouquet that must have arrived in his absence, then grinned down at Natalie. "I'll make sure she gets all the TLC she needs."

"Very good, then." The older man nodded his approval and slipped his pen back into his lab coat pocket. "She can change and get ready to leave, and I'll have the nurse bring in her personal items from last night."

The doctor exited the room, and Noah returned his attention to the gorgeous floral arrangement scenting the room, curious to know who had sent them. "Nice flowers," he commented, hoping his voice didn't reveal the tinge of jealousy he felt. Hoping, too, that she'd reveal their origin.

"Yes, they are beautiful." She reached out and fingered a pink rose petal, then met his gaze, her features softening with adoration. "Thank you for sending them. That was incredibly sweet of you, and the sentiment was very reassuring."

He swallowed not only his surprise, but the words of denial that immediately sprang to his lips. Whatever sentiment was written on the card attached to the bouquet had given her the impression that he'd bought the flowers for her, and his fingers itched to pluck the envelope from the center of the arrangement and read the attached note for himself.

Schooling his expression and summoning restraint and a grin, he played along with the scenario. "You're welcome."

With a long, lingering sigh, she sat up in bed and carefully swung her legs over the side of the mattress. "Well, I guess I'd better get dressed so you can spring me from this joint."

He helped her stand with his hand encircling her arm, waited to make sure she was steady on her feet, then handed her the clothes he'd brought for her. He watched as she headed toward the small bathroom, and nearly groaned at the sweet, delectable view he caught sight of.

Trying to preserve a bit of modesty, one of her hands clutched at the open folds at the back of her hospital gown to hold them closed. While she did a decent job of covering herself, he was still treated to tantalizing glimpses of the rounded curves of her buttocks that gave way to her slender, smooth thighs.

Once she disappeared behind the closed door, he inhaled a deep, steady breath that did little to ease the tightening in his groin, and focused his attention back on the floral arrangement. Knowing he only had minutes before Natalie returned, he removed the envelope, withdrew the florist card within and read the note someone had written specifically for her.

You'll always be mine.

Brief and succinct, that's all the inscription said, with no name or signature to go with the very personal, possessive comment. Unease prickled through Noah, along with a healthy dose of fury that someone would prey upon Natalie so brazenly. And just how far was this crazed lunatic willing to go to stalk her?

The answer to his own question upped his inner rage a few notches and instigated another fierce surge of protectiveness toward Natalie.

Thank God she believed that he'd sent the flowers, and he didn't intend to correct her assumption. He supposed in her frame of mind she'd taken the remark to mean that Noah still considered her his, despite the accident and amnesia. She'd taken the note as a reassurance, and had no idea just how threatening those words were.

Whoever had been following her last night knew that she was in this hospital and was keeping tabs on her, which was a scary prospect. Noah was grateful that patient information was privileged and wasn't given out to just anyone, because Natalie's amnesia was something someone with sinister intent would no doubt use to his advantage.

Finding a notepad in the side drawer, Noah ripped off a page and quickly scribbled the name, address and phone number of the florist shop printed on the outside of the envelope, then slipped the paper into his pocket. Another piece of evidence he planned to follow up on later. He hoped he'd be able to learn the identity of the sender through the shop and hunt him down from there.

If this creep wanted to play cat and mouse with Natalie, then Noah would be the Doberman pinscher in the scenario, because he was determined to catch this guy before he caught Natalie.

Sitting across from Noah in a small, cozy kitchen nook, Natalie reached for her second slice of pepperoni-and-cheese pizza, still absorbing the fact that she and Noah lived together in his two-story house.

So far she'd only seen the lower level of the structure, and she had to admit not only to herself, but to Noah as well, that nothing looked familiar. Not the tweed sofa and big-screen TV in the living room, nor the kitchen where she was certain they'd eaten many meals together. She'd racked her brain for a niggle of recognition, and hadn't been aware of the distressed sound that had escaped her until Noah had gathered her in his strong arms and told her to be patient and give it time.

His closeness, warmth and arousing male scene was all it took to soothe her frazzled nerves. She'd clung to him because he made her feel safe and secure, and as though she belonged in his embrace. In his life. From there, she'd relaxed and told herself to enjoy the man so willing to cater to her every whim and desire. A man who inspired decadent fantasies and a hunger that had nothing to do with the food she was feasting on.

Natalie took a bite of her pizza and moaned her appreciation of the delicious, savory taste filling her mouth. True to his word, Noah had ordered a large pizza for her as soon as they'd arrived at his house, and compared to the bland breakfast and lunch she'd been served at the hospital, the delicacy was like ambrosia to her taste buds and she couldn't seem to get enough.

Noah grinned at her as he washed down a bite of his own pizza with a drink from his bottle of cold beer. "I take it your stomach is happy?"

Surprisingly, she felt happy, despite every reason she had to feel uncertain. "Very," she said, and darted her tongue out to catch a string of cheese from the corner of her mouth. His dark, lazy gaze watched the slow slide of her tongue, setting off a fluttering sensation in the pit of her belly. "The flavor is better than I remember."

He chuckled, a low, pleasant rumbling sound. "You're very easy to please."

Before she could stop herself, she slanted him a flirtatious glance and asked seductively, "Am I?"

Slowly, he licked smears of sauce from his fingers in long, slow laps she felt in intimate places. "Yeah, you are." Sexual connotation deepened his sexy voice, and a naughty twinkle glimmered in his eyes.

A smoldering heat flared through her, a sensation she didn't bother to fight. "You're a tease."

The corner of his mouth hitched with a wicked grin, and a sable brow lifted with amusement. "You started this, sweetheart, not me."

Unable to argue, she ducked her head and brought up an issue on her mind. "Noah, I've been meaning to ask-since we're engaged, how come I don't have a ring?" It seemed like such a forward question, but one that had become necessary in order for her to fill in more blank memories. "Or is it with my personal belongings from the hospital?"

He shook his head and took a long drink of his beer before answering. "No, you don't have an engagement ring. We'd talked about going to pick one out together, but that was before the accident."

She smiled, accepting his answer without questioning him further because it made so much sense, and they finished their dinner with a keen awareness swirling in the air between them. The more she was around Noah, the more she wanted him, with an intensity that kept growing stronger, more insistent. And if she couldn't remember being with him intimately, then she wanted new memories to replace the ones she'd lost. That much she knew for certain.

Standing, Noah tossed their empty paper plates into the trash and cleared the table, putting the leftover pizza into the refrigerator. He came back with a glass of water and two white pills.

"Here's some Motrin to help keep your headache away." He gently brushed a finger across her cheek, then urged her to take the medication. Once she'd swallowed both tablets, he asked, "Can I get you anything else?"

A loaded question, and one she handled with restraint. "I'd love a long, hot bath."

He swept into a gallant bow that made her smile. "Your wish is my command."

As she stared up into his gorgeous face, she wondered if she requested her true heart's desire at the moment if he'd obey and take her right there in the kitchen. On the table, on the floor, up against the wall, she didn't care, just so long as she felt his need for her in return. The naughty, scintillating thought tantalized her, teased her, caused a pulsing knot of anticipation to pull tight in her stomach, and lower.

He grabbed her hand, led her upstairs, and she followed him into a large, spacious room decorated in blue-and-beige tones and furnished in dark oak. A king-size bed dominated the area, covered by a soft, rumpled comforter in a masculine design. She tried to remember making love to Noah there. While she couldn't recall specific memories, her mind had no problem conjuring images of their naked limbs entwined and Noah's strong body moving over hers, filling her, thrusting hard and deep as she arched beneath him.

The mental imagine was so realistic her womb contracted, her panties grew damp, and much to her chagrin a whimpering sound caught in her throat.

Noah glanced at her, concerned. "Hey, you okay?"

If he only knew the truth-that around him she couldn't get sex off her mind. Had this man always had such an instantaneous effect on her libido? If so, she was in big, big trouble because she didn't know how long she could resist the urge to give in to the provocative fantasy that had just filtered through her head.

"I'm fine." Her voice was husky.

"Okay." He stared at her a moment longer through narrowed eyes, as if to make sure she was truly stable. "Go ahead and get yourself something to sleep in, and I'll run you a hot bath." He slipped through an adjoining door, leaving her alone. Seconds later she heard the rush of running water.

She released a deep breath that did little to ease the throbbing ache in intimate places. No, she didn't think anything would be able to relieve that shameless, reckless longing except for Noah's touch.

Feeling a bit lost, and not certain where to start her search, she began opening dresser drawers. The first one was filled with his socks and briefs, the second with his white undershirts. Peeking from beneath the cotton shirts was a glint of steel, and upon closer inspection she was shocked to find a gun in a leather holster. She frowned, wondering why he had such a lethal weapon stashed in his drawer.

"Is something wrong, Natalie?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, so close. She'd been so absorbed by the revolver that she hadn't heard him come up beside her. She looked up at him. "You have a gun?"

"I'm a P.I., sweetheart," he said simply, gently. "Owning a gun is part of the job."

A very logical explanation. She shook her head. "Of course. I just don't remember you carrying one." The story of her life, lately. She wondered if she'd ever get used to the various voids in her memory.

"I wear it pretty much on a daily basis, and I took it off when we got home. But right now it's not loaded, though the clip is right there beside it." He shut the drawer and opened the one below it. "Your stuff is right here."

"Thank you." She pulled out a fresh pair of undies, hopelessly frustrated that he knew right where her things were located while she was floundering just to find her panties.

Walking over to the closet, he grabbed a long cotton chemise. "And here's your nightgown."

"Are you sure I don't wear one of your shirts to bed?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a hidden request. She wanted to feel as close as possible to him, even while sleeping. A security blanket of sorts, no matter how silly it seemed.

He stopped in his tracks, her cotton gown fisted in his hand, his entire body tense. "Would you like to?"

He'd answered her question with one of his own, which didn't tell her what she wanted to know. Hell, maybe she slept in the nude and he was just trying to preserve her modesty until she felt better.

It wasn't necessary. "I'd love to sleep in one of your shirts, as long as you don't mind."

"Not at all." Back at the dresser, he withdrew an extra-large white T-shirt and gave it to her, his movements quick and efficient. He disappeared back into the bathroom, turned off the water and returned seconds later. "The tub is full and waiting for you. Can you handle things from here, or do you need help?"

Oh, she was sorely tempted to tell him she needed his assistance, just because she wanted to feel his hands on her naked flesh as he undressed her. And she certainly wouldn't mind having him scrub her back or wash the rest of her body while he was at it. She shivered at the sensual thought.

But while he seemed concerned for her welfare, there was a sudden reserve about him that puzzled her, and she didn't push the issue. "Don't worry about me, Noah. I'll be fine."

"Leave the door open," he said, grabbing a pair of gray cotton sweatpants for himself. "I'll be downstairs in my office, so just call me if you need anything."

And then he was gone, making her wonder why he didn't change in front of her if they lived together. Shrugging her shoulders and refusing to let such an inconsequential thought hurt her already tired brain, she stepped into the bathroom. She was greeted by a fragrant cloud of steam and a large tub brimming with water and bubbles. She spotted her floral body wash beside the tub, knowing that Noah had thoughtfully added it to the water.

After stripping off her clothes, she rummaged through the drawers, recognizing her stuff and finding a scrunchie for her hair. She rubbed a spot clean on the fogged mirror and proceeded to pull the shoulder-length strands into a ponytail so they wouldn't get wet.

She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, drawing her gaze to the lush curves of her body. Absently, she cupped her large breasts in her palms and grazed her fingers over the tips. She shivered as her nipples puckered and tingled. Closing her eyes, she touched elsewhere, skimming her hands over intimate dips and hollows.

She imagined it was Noah caressing her, and her heart thumped hard in her chest as her body came vibrantly alive, as if something deep inside of her was gradually awakening, demanding attention and release. Her skin grew damp from the moisture in the bathroom and her own arousal, her nerves strung tight, and the provocative sensations grew stronger with every slick slide of her hands, along with a carnal craving that stole her breath.

She felt sexual and sensual, her response wrapped up in illicit fantasies of Noah. He was the only connection she had to the past and present and the burning, aching need consuming her. She needed him in ways even she didn't understand, but she trusted him, with her body and even her lost soul. And while there were still so many gaps in her mind, there was one thing she knew for certain.

The erotic hunger within her wouldn't be denied much longer.